#we add responses to the posts when we get a chance so seeing that last part had me howl with laughter~G🏩

[cybertronian-cupid]

How'd you guys get into Transformers? I'm sure its an interesting tale. :>

I grew up on the '86 G1 movie and whatever episodes my father happened to have on video cassette/DVD at the time. Fell outta it once I was in middle school, but about four or five years ago, a friend of mine fell into a TF hyperfix and suggested TFA and TFP to me :33 Buuuuuuut, I didn't really have many people to talk to about it. Luckily, Gregoria and I started chatting about that time and she let me rant and ramble about my alien robot crushes to her uwu~Mila💟

Yeah thanks to Mila I rediscovered TFP. I first watched it on tv back when it aired, then when it became clear we weren't getting all episodes I ended up searching it up online. I was only interested in the show and fics, and lost interest relatively quickly. Enter Mila and I was introduced to so. much. media. I have been sinking deeper into this fandom for three years now and I have no intention of leaving anytime soon *snickers* Especially now that there's people to share fun ideas we come up with for these robots💥 ~Gregoria🏩

And that, dear followers, is how I met your mother uwu~Mila💟

*WHEEZEEEEEE* Mila you are a fucking gem.~Gregoria🏩

[anadiasmount]

hello again? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: weddings and dates. feelings tested to their breaking point when one of you appears with a date. the night is young, is there still a chance to make things right even when it feels wrong?

wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HAD SOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! this wa smeant to be posted yesterday so I'm sorry for the small delay!! i love the drama and angst but fluffy ending as promised!!🤞🏻 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

“i going to need five painkillers by the end of the night,” the bride, well, your best friend says. you laugh as you finish tucking in the last few bobby pins in her updo, making sure no flyaway or small bumps are seen, everything sleek and perfect. “i am too. or maybe many many many tequila shots, whichever is first available,” you joke.��

“you should be all set!” you say cheerfully with a full smile on your face, hands resting on her shoulders as she admires your work. “it looks absolutely perfect, thank you! you’re truly a life savor i was ready to cancel the whole wedding,” your friend's eyes glimmer in relief, having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders as you did her hair. the hairstylist had to cancel the day of due to having a family emergency, but refunding her money was the least she could do. 

all the bridesmaids surrounded you, complimenting the hair and most importantly the bride who could just be overall thankful and full of emotions. the photographer came in, taking individual and group pictures of everyone, and opening a bottle of champagne to start the day. 

there were still a couple of hours left so you did some touch-ups on hair and makeup, assuring to add some powder to set and spray a setting mist to ensure it would last all day, also being generous with the hair spray. you changed into the olive green-toned dress and the black pumps for the evening, the dress hitting the correct angle and not interfering with you walk. a simple gold bracelet and matching earrings completed the look, walking out and earning praises from your girlfriends. 

your heart began to race faster approaching the reception, suppressing any feelings away because you felt it wasn't the time. the wedding nerves were killing you but also seeing jude again was making you stress more than it shouldn't have. how he was. what he'd wear. if he was even going to be there?

with jude's schedule, it was hard to even make time for each other, being one of the main reasons for your messy breakup. your promotion to the law firm, move to spain, his recovery, media, games, and the always questioning each other's every move. it took a toll especially on you, crossing yourself every night knowing you couldn't do anything about it except long for him.

he was your every thought since then. if he missed you? how his life was going? if he also desired to get back together? as hard as it was you still felt more than love for him. the feeling in your tummy spreading as you remember the first times with him. the kiss, the date, the sex, the love, all of it.

"i've ordered your favorite, now tell me where i can help you," jude says kissing just below your ear returning from outside where he placed a call. you hand him your flashcards pulling out your notebook to read the different scenarios that match with the words.

"just so you know, before we start, i'll have you know i want something in return," jude whispers with a cheeky grin. "of course you do, what is it," you ask teasingly your arm wrapping around his shoulders waiting for his response.

"a date. i want you to go out on a date with me y/n..." jude says earning a silence from you. your nails rake against the back of his neck, "i'd love too. just so you know, depending how much you help me with determine the commitment to our first date..."

"i promise to be on my best behavior then."

"y/n! are you ready?" your friend waved her hand in the air with a confused look, you immediately snapped back into reality as you stepped out to the reception. "does everyone have their flowers? remember they go in your right hand!" the party organizer reminded you as you quickly got into line with the groomsmen.

it all happened quickly, you smiled at alex who quickly got into place arm wrapped with yours as you walked down the aisle as rehersed. the reception was absolutely beautiful. the tears, the vows, the laughter, the ceremony couldn't have been more perfect. you hated to admit but your eyes did search around for jude, and once you saw him, a sensation in you went numb.

there jude sat with a girl to his side who clearly hadn't read the dress code. placing kisses all over his hand and cheek, the love dazed in her eyes as she stared at jude. jude did reach over a few times and she giggled, making your weak heart wrench further.

jude on the other hand started to get impatient, especially with carla who wouldn't stop annoying him and trying to get his attention every few seconds. since breaking up with you he couldn't stand the PDA towards him or seeing it. jude quickly found it difficult since most of his teammates were married or in committed relationships.

it seemed like everywhere he went, there were reminders of you lingering around. the library you studied and where he took you on a desk in a quiet corner, the cafe where you'd get your morning coffee with him, even his training center, and the beranabeu where he hoped and waited you'd be there. he was miserable and driven to his breaking point.

jude began to regret bringing carla, as she got the wrong message and was all over him. the wedding you planned to go to together, where you were supposed to be his date, not her. but his stupid jealousy and talks from others were the fault he was here today. he was anticipating meeting your boyfriend or date, make the message clear he was going to be in the picture.

he hated to think of someone else when it wasn't him. it ticked him off and he knew he couldn't do anything about it because you weren't there anymore. but no one said he couldn't feel the way he felt. to hate the man who would forever make you laugh, or earn your love at the end of the day.

all those promises, the kisses, the hugs, the forever after you guys created was long gone. it hurt jude to the point where he had nightmares, not being able to sleep. it didn't help when they teased or made comments to him. or the fact a rumor went around you moved on and had someone else.

"carla, do you mind getting some drinks while i say hello to some friends?" jude kindly asks removing her hands from his chest. "anything for us jude! i'll wait for you by our table," she winks at him making jude internally cringe as she walks off.

he dabs up his friends, congratulating the groom and making small talk. "oye jude! que pasa chaval!? i didn't think you'd come," his shorter teammate brahim greeted him. "well i'm here aren't i? how are you? como estais?" jude mocked earning a chuckle from him.

all of his teammates suddenly surrounded him, laughing and discussing the plays for the game before, and the tactics for the upcoming one. jude looked around trying to look for you and carla. he fixed his suit every now and then, entranced with his friends. "who did you come with?" asked brahim, looking around for what presumably could be you.

"an old friend, her name is carla," jude winces at his friend's look. “i thought you were coming with y/n?” asks brahim earning a deep scowl from jude. “no we uh- we broke up a while ago,” jude squints his eyes, eyes finding you where you laughed loudly with your friends.

“but she’s here?”

“yeah but probably not alone,” jude retorted still convinced you were seeing someone and they were here. “what?” brahim laughs at him earning an eye roll from jude, “you can’t be serious! i’m pretty sure she’s single,” brahim says. “what are you playing at here jude?”

“nothing. i’m here for the wedding,” jude scoffs. “yeah sure you are,” brahim squints his eyes then looks around starting to walk off. “when you come to your senses, i’ll wait for you over there. remember not everything seems to be exactly as you seem jude…” he smacks his shoulders and walks off.

you’d probably been on your third glass of champagne by now, enjoying the presence with your girls as you spoke about the wedding and old throwbacks together. the speeches were made and the newly weds had their first dance already. anyone at the event center was dancing, talking, or drinking.

“i’ll be right back, i'm pissing myself,” you excuse yourself laughing at joke as you step away to do your business. you brought along your bag, washing your hands and touching your your makeup that had smudged a bit after the maid of honor speech. applying a fresh coat of lipstick and gloss you dabbed the excess off and headed outside.

you motion to your friends you we're head to the bar, them mouthing to bring shots of tequila and some peanuts to eat. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” a strange voice says behind you, you turn slowly, feeling your chest sink deeper as you place a small smile. “i'm carla,” the girl introduced herself, watching as you hesitated taking her hand.

“i feel like i’ve seen you around somewhere, i just can’t put a finger to it. you know huge town but small circle of friends, i was invited last minute to the wedding so,” carla spoke falsely making you want to walk out the conversation. you nodded along not really caring and wanting to go back. part of you hated the way you were treating her, but it was all the jealousy talking. she had done nothing to you besides show up here with him.

“i’m sorry but my friends are waiting for me,” you apologize letting the bar tender know where you were seated. you grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and standing up, grabbing your bag and walked away. “leaving so soon? i was hoping we could talk,” she approaches you again making you turn again but this time a bit agitated since you were catching on to what she was doing.

“like i said, my friends are waiting for me,” you shrug nonchalantly seeing her cock her head to the said and look you up and down. “well i didn’t catch your name,” she sarcastically says, the anger building in you slowly as she spoke and wanted to rub onto your face who she was here with.

“i’m y/n, but i feel like you know that already.”

“oh you’re the ex-girlfriend!” the girl enhanced the oh, with a fake smile. rage burned in your veins, needing to have resistance before you put her in her place. she had been on it the whole night, and she began to test your limits now. 

“you must be the new girlfriend!” you returned the fake smile and took a huge sip of the champagne. “almost couldn’t tell…” you shrugged looking for an escape route but landing eyes with the man you avoided the whole night. his mouth agape and wide eyes. 

he wore a black suit and white button up, leaving three buttons undone, hair styled and a fancy watch adorning his wrist. you felt tugged into the eye contact, needing and wanting to be the one next to him tonight. but instead here you were, giving your attention to the person you hated most. 

your jaw clenched, turning your attention to your glass where you swirled the drink. “it’s a shame you guys didn’t work, but don’t worry! i’ll take better care of him,” she snarled. “jude spoke so much of you, honestly don’t see anything fascinating about you. have a goodnight.” 

you downed the drink in one go, feeling the burn in your throat as you placed the glass onto the empty table. jude frowned at your state, still overly confused and waiting for your date to appear. then it all clicked in his head, you didn’t bring anyone, you didn’t bring a date. the jealousy and anger disappearing in him slowly as he watched you sit down and sigh covering your head in your hands. 

“what did you say to her?” he questioned his date, seeing a smirk appear on her lips. jude turned back to you where you looked around in a trance, knowing immediately you felt the anxiety in you. 

“what had to be said. it’s all done.” 

“what’s done? what are you doing?” jude spit out dragging her to an empty hall where she just chuckled. “i told her what needed to be said. closed a chapter and now we’re starting a new one,” carla spoke crossing her arms. “i brought you here as a companion, not as my girlfriend or anything more. i think you’re getting the wrong message here,” jude said shaking his head.

“what do you mean jude?”

“i never asked you to do that, carla. you had no right to do that. i brought you here as a companion, not my girlfriend or anything else,” jude makes it clear to her seeing confusion flash into her eyes, now beaming with embarrassment. “i don't get it jude?”

“that i don’t intend to start a relationship with you. i’m sorry if i have given that impression but i can’t. what did you say to her?" jude demands his tone going softly as he walks towards her. "i thought i had said what needed to be said so we could finally be together!"

"y/n is too busy with herself. she got herself a promotion and is focused on her studies! she can't give you what you want and ask for jude! she's nothing compared to me," carla points to herself as she speaks all mumbled.

"and you can? what you did just now, what impression does that give to me carla? the way you're speaking about someone who you don't know, and never will?" jude defends you, deeming the need to even if you weren't there. she opens her mouth to speak but closes it immediately, knowing nothing could fix the situation. "i'm sorry-"

"save it. we both know you don't mean it," jude scoffs and walks off, back into the reception where you're nowhere to be found. he wandered off for a few minutes looking for you, even asking some people around him and they all gave him the same response that they hadn't seen you.

you had walked off back to your friends after a mini breakdown and questioning your life. beginning to blame yourself for everything when it shouldn't. it was both your faults but yet it hurt to hear her say nothing was fascinating about you. you shouldn't have let her words get to heart but what if they were true?

what if you were stuck in your own world and couldn't bother to make time for him? what if you didn't give enough attention especially when he most needed it? to be worried only in the moment and not live your life to its fullest? a couple shots and dancing later you found yourself seated at your table alone, watching you friends dance without their heels drunkly laughing off.

"where are you even going?" jude asks you, seeing how you packed every item away into suitcases. "clearly far way from you. i can't stand it anymore, you're never here jude!" you yell throwing your hand sin the air.

"you're never here and i'm tired of it jude. it's always some bullshit excuse and if you truly cared you'd see that but you don't. i'm not wanted here so the faster i leave, the better for us," you say zipping up the final case.

"you're being ridiculous," jude laughs in disbelief, approaching you but you warn him to not get near you. "this is what i mean! i can hardly recognize you nowadays! i'm done jude. done," you say loud and clear.

"leave. i never needed you anyway." you turn around facing him, a flash of regret filling in his eyes as you look at him in pure disbelief. "you did, or you wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for me."

you share your head at the memory, heading to the empty bar to return the empty glasses, feeling the need to clean up the mess and grab a small snack and final glass of champagne walking out to the outdoor balcony for a breath of air. "y/n?" you look up, not feeling sleepy or drunk anymore, standing up straight as jude approaches you.

was it possible to feel your heart shatter into millions of pieces over and over again? to feel the pit of your stomach turn at the sight of your ex-boyfriend? to feel utter pain when it was supposed to be a happy day? "jude..." you croak, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek.

he rests his forearm on the bar railing looking at you, trying to read you as you looked forward. silence fell upon you, but there was no denying that your hearts began to sprint faster at the closeness of the two of you. "did you need something?" you softly ask, taking a sip of the drink. "i wanted to talk," jude states firmly.

"are you sure? i don't think your girlfriend would like that," you attempt to joke but it earns you a frown from jude who just shakes his head. "i'm not sure she would, i'll just leave this here and go-" you try to walk away but he stops you, softly gripping your wrist refusing to let you go.

"she's not my girlfriend, she also left a while ago..." jude says, seeing you finally lock eyes with his. a deep laugh rumbles from his throat a painful smile stretching along his adorned face, "my first reaction would've been that too, if you had shown up here with someone else."

"i don't get it, why are you here then?" you feel the need to ask, get some sort of answer to relieve the pang in your chest. "why bother being here when you still brought her."

"because i was jealous, there i said it. i was so convinced you'd show up with someone who wasn't me. that i'd have to face reality and finally accept we're not longer together. that i can't call you mine anymore..." jude confesses, making your eyes glisten with new tears again.

"do you not know how it feels? to still be stuck in the past and longing for hope that one day you'll come back to me? having to face everyday with you on my mind anywhere i go? to have vivid dreams of you?" jude frowns, his once rough voice turning delicate as he brought a hand wiped your tears. "i can't stand it anymore."

"i thought this whole time before coming here, you were with someone else. everyone told me you had moved on and looked in a better place and all i could feel was bitterness. it wasn't fair, but i was so wrong y/n. so wrong to the point where i brought someone who could never love me like you did..." jude wiped his own tears away at the state of you.

you felt like you couldn't move, stuck in the same place as you heard his voice. the voice that one day soothed you to sleep, to calm you down, to look forward to at the end of the day. was it possible to feel this emotionless? to have no more tears left to cry? a sob emerged you, covering your face and attempting to control your breaths.

"who said i stopped? i may have an idea of what you feel like, let's be real. i don't know quite frankly who told you i moved on, but that's all lies. i can't do that knowing i still feel the same i did when i first met you," you sniffle taking a gulp and feeling the knot in your throat. "i thought i was fine and could handle seeing you, but my oh my was i incorrect... to see her with you, for her to come up to me and speak the way she did? for a second i thought 'where is my jude'?"

"i'm right here..."jude grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart, bringing it up to his jaw and resting his face on your palm. "don't you see it though? we're back where we ended off. do you possibly think we're good for each other when it seems like we're only hurting?" you question him.

"i've lived everyday thinking i wasn't enough or that i couldn't give you what you wanted jude," you shook your head in disappointment, "i want to fix things i do, but i'm scared that if we do this again, we're going to end up back here confessing our wrongs and tears. the way i felt the day we broke up doesn't compare to now..." you say, jude going quiet and looking down in defeat.

"i miss you so much jude," you choked on your own words, a fresh wave of tears overpowered the dry ones, holding onto jude upper arms as he leaned down and engulfed you into a deep hug. jude repeatedly kissed your head, choking on his own sobs as he repeated how much he missed you.

"i hope you know i'm still so madly in love with you y/n. i've never felt this way for anyone and it seems like its meant for you and you only,"j jude says making you giggle. "i'm serious pretty girl. i'm serious about you and us. i always was and i made the mistake of letting you go once, but i'm not here to do that again. i'm here to grant all of the promises we made," jude holds your face, seeing your red eyes and slightly smudged makeup, still more beautiful than ever.

"all of them?"

"every single one of them."

"i feel like we should talk more about it," you insist, seeing jude nod and agreeing with you. he tightens his grips on you waist leaning further down closer to you. "yes we do and we will, but right now i want to kiss you..." he asks and you grant. he sucks in a breath lips devouring yours after months, holding and kissing you how you liked and deserved.

you held onto his suit, tiptoeing up and deepening the kiss further, being able to taste his minty whisky scent. "come with me. we won't talk about everything tonight but i really just want to be here with you," jude says, sitting down on a small couch laid outside. you immediately follow and cuddle into him like you used to. you place a final peck onto his lips. "wait my drink-" jude holds your waist giving you a look with a playful smile.

"i think that's enough for tonight."

[desperate-gay]

not to add to what looks like a lot of mary smut requests, could you write something smutty for lucy where the reader just doesn’t want to think after a loss and lucy helps her not think

Distraction

Lucy Bronze x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

“We played the best we could. You were amazing out there.” Lucy says, trying to cheer you up while combing her hand through your hair. You both are lying on your bed, your head resting on her chest, it slowly moving up and down from the girl’s breathing.

“I had two chances. Two. Both times I hit the stupid post and that cost us going to the semi-finals.” Your voice wavers slightly due to your emotions rising from thinking about it.

You know Lucy is taking it pretty tough too, but she scored the last goal, almost securing your spots. The difference between the two of you is Lucy thinks positively and moves on while you think about all of the things you could’ve done differently, making your head think it’s all your fault.

Almost like she’s reading your mind, she interrupts, “It’s not your fault.” You scoff in response but Lucy doesn’t accept that. “I’m serious, it’s not at all your fault. We all are a team, so it’s not on you.”

With a little sniffle, you sit up and place yourself on the older girl’s lap. Her gaze remains soft and concerned, worried about your watery eyes to which you just shake your head. Your hands find their places on her neck, rubbing up and down in a sweet manner.

“I don’t want to think about it anymore. Help me forget?” You ask, leaning down and placing your forehead against hers. Both of you sit there in comfortable silence with your eyes still closed and hands rubbing at each other’s skin.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe we should just-“

“Please, Lucy.” The desperation in your words is strong, letting the girl know under you that you need her.

Lucy sighs, nodding her head in agreement as she kisses your forehead and then trails them down to your lips. When your lips intertwine, the kiss is slow and deep, her way of assuring you everything is going to be okay. Her tongue brushes against yours, making you moan softly into the kiss as your hand trails down her muscular stomach.

Pulling away, you grab at the hem of her shirt, asking to take it off. Lucy gets the idea and lifts it over her head, mindlessly throwing it somewhere before connecting her lips back to yours for a sloppier kiss than the previous ones. Your hips begin to grind on her lap which makes the brunette smirk a little, her hands quick to tug off your shirt and unclip your bra.

Her lips trail down onto your chest, swirling her tongue around your nipple while her hand kneads at the other one. Your hands brush through her hair, sighing softly at the feeling of her mouth on your chest. After a minute or two, you cup her cheeks and tilt her head to look back up at you before smashing your lips back onto hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lucy murmurs, her arms wrapping around your back, flipping the two of you over so she now lays on top of you, scaring you and making you squeak.

“Warn a girl next time, eh?” Lucy just shrugs, causing you to giggle at her careless and rushed behavior. She smiles down at you, happy she can finally see that you’re feeling better.

Her head tucks into your neck, placing multiple kisses all over, sucking and biting at a few spots. She lies a series of kisses down your neck down to your belly button, stopping at the fabric that blocks where she wants to go. Lucy places more sensual kisses on your lower stomach, slowing down her quick pace.

You tilt your head back against the sheets and take a deep breath, losing all of the negative thoughts that were running through your head, trying now to be more in the moment and let Lucy help you out.

As she trails kisses lower, her hands drag down the fabric of your shorts and underwear with her, allowing her to have access to where you need. The feeling of her breath ghosts against your slit but instead moves to your inner thighs to suck hickeys. With a shake of your thigh and a whine, Lucy chuckles and dives right in, licking up through your folds. A loud moan slips out from your mouth at the sudden pleasure, but she pulls away fast, leaving you wet and desperate.

You flinch when her cold hand meets the warm skin of your calf, throwing it over her shoulder. Licking her lips, she leans back down and blows over your glistening hole, causing you to flinch back. A smirk etches on her features before she flicks her tongue over your clit. Seeing you’ve had a bad day, she doesn’t tease you too much, allowing you to get off edge as soon as possible.

Her lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking with makes her back arch slightly, hips moving closer to her face. While she continues her strokes, she notices your hands gripping the bed so she reaches out and intertwines your hands together. A small smile reaches your lips at the sweet gesture but is interrupted by the sounds escaping your lips.

Lucy’s tongue now pushing in and out of you as her nose bumps against your clit, pleasing you in the most wonderful ways. Your mind blank and cloudy from your approaching orgasm. Noticing your breathing getting faster and your hand squeezing hers harder than before, she knows you’re close, so she attaches her mouth back onto your clit, switching between sucking and licking.

Your hips arch up while your teeth grind together from the stimulation on your body. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as your hips shutter, Lucy’s mouth working slowly, helping you ride through your orgasm. Once your moans turn into a whine and your body flinches away, she kisses your thighs and makes her way back up to you, placing your leg back onto the bed.

“You did so good.” Lucy praises, pecking your cheeks sweetly, her hand cupping the other side of your head to pull you closer to her lips. You smile, wrapping your fingers around her wrist and guiding it to your lips to press a tiny kiss on her palm.

“Thank you, Lucy. I love you.” Your eyes gaze at hers with the most loving look. The brunette leans down and connects your lips to a passionate kiss. Nothing heated or sexual about it, just a kiss pouring your feelings into one another.

“I love you too, gorgeous.”

With a few more kisses, you lay your head down on her chest and trace the tattoo on her wrist. Lucy looks down at you realizing that no matter how tough a game goes, she’ll always have you to go home to so there’s nothing to be sad about.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. All but one of these are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching! Yes, even the ones I'm not loving! We need to encourage these Japanese studios to keep giving us access to their content. Changing up the order this week so as not to lead on a bum note (we can end on one, instead:)).

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yara ka

When we left off with Kazuyo’s confession last week, I said this: “Kazuyo is such a sweetheart that I really hope she'll stick around rooting for this pair once she inevitably gets let down gently.” And we got all that and more this week, because this show is my perfect angel that has never done anything wrong in its life. I love that Kazuyo is not only at peace with Sakae’s feelings for Soga, but very enthusiastically supportive of his pursuit. I love this friendship, and I love that we’re spending real time on Kazuyo’s feelings in the aftermath of this rejection. And we continue to see bits of the past relationships that have been weighing on Sakae and Soga. This show really cares about its characters and it shows. Sakae’s confession at the end of this episode was another great moment of grace and kindness and I’m looking forward to Soga’s response once he has a chance to process alongside some healthy jealousy as Sakae’s ex returns.

Perfect Propose

The first two episodes of this new jbl dropped today, and I loved it. Overworked young salaryman, Hiro, is falling apart. His childhood friend, Kai, finds him lying exhausted on the street and invites himself to move in to take care of him. Kai explicitly declared 1) that he is gay and 2) that he considers himself Hiro’s fiancé within the first five minutes, and helped Hiro get off so he could sleep properly in the first episode. This drama really said eat real food, have a nice orgasm, and get a good night’s sleep and you will be happy, and it seems to be building to some themes about the harm caused by the culture of overworking. I support this message!

Ossan's Love Returns

...where to even begin. This "honeymoon" episode was bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I went from crying to laughing hysterically to gasping to staring in mute horror at my screen to laughing to crying again. This show is so good at keeping these characters grounded in authentic emotion even as their behavior spins far out of the realm of how real people behave. It's a minor miracle that I can be gaping at Maki in disbelief and then bursting into tears two seconds later because of one perfectly executed line. I don't even want to talk about what specifically happened in this episode, I just want you to go watch it.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK, BABY!!! I got my hot little hands on the first four episodes of this excellent second season and let me tell you, the joy I felt to see Yuki and Kasuga again! I love that we came back to find out the gals have been eating like queens and blowing the budget. Plus, there's a new baby lesbian in the building! This season is really delving into Yuki's exploration of her sexuality, and the show is handling it with the expected gentle grace. I am enjoying the journey and putting on my patient pants to settle in for a long wait before these two actually officially get together.

Chaser Game W

This was a rougher week for this show, in that the pacing felt very jerky as the story suddenly executed a rapid turn in the romance that did not really work. The backstory reveal was weak (very poorly motivated noble idiocy), Itsuki's casual decision to start caring for Fuyu's child at the expense of her own life and Fuyu's decision to let her was under-explored, the messages about the importance of these women's work was decidedly mixed, and the sudden love confessions straight to sex didn't get proper build up. Add Fuyu continuing to be a violent drunk who treats Itsuki like shit, and it's hard to root for this pair--I am not really invested in the romance. This show is clearly going somewhere with its commentary on gender roles as it relates to Fuyu's behavior, and I hope wherever it is will feel worth it.

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun

This show ended this week, and I pretty much hated it, but I will always love Toki despite the mess this show made of his story. We have one more show coming from Drama Shower for the season, and I sincerely hope we can end on a good note with this project.

[unnoticed-poison]

ᴅᴀʀᴋ! ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ! ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

Let me just start by saying that I do not apologize for what's gonna happen in this chapter ☺️

Well not really a chapter since it's just the scene that I left out from the last chapter, tests are starting soon so I couldn't add more.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

"-And that's how the whole overpopulation issue would be fixed! And your people won't need to do the extermination anymore!" Charles said, pointing to the final paper, which had various angels and demons holding hands with happy smiles.

......

"Is this a joke?"

Charles blinked, taken aback by the response. "What?"

"I said, is this a joke?" You asked again, looking at him like he was a lunatic. "Are you serious?"

He stammered, unsure of what to say.

"I'm completely serious!"

.....

You couldn't believe what you just heard.

"Everyone? Just mere mistakes?" You narrowed your eyes at his words. "You're saying that 𝘢𝘭𝘭 sinners deserve a second chance?"

He nodded. "Yes!"

Oh my god.

Frustrated, you pinched the bridge of your nose, your patience running thin the more you heard this idiot talk about this nonsense. "Ok, let's see if I can get this through your thick head."

Not that you were sure it would make any difference with this guy.

"Huh..?"

"Let's say that your idea can in fact work and you redeem a soul, let's also consider that this particular soul was a rapist, a cannibal or a serial killer for example, What would we say to their victims when they see them up there in heaven with them with the crimes they committed? 'Oh they got redeemed so it's all good now! It'll be best for you to forgive and forget!'. " You sneered, like that would ever happen. " yeah right, fuck off."

"I- no! I mean-"

He had nothing to say to that.

"Look, I appreciate you trying to help your people but let's be honest, if humans can do whatever they want then just get redeemed here to end up in heaven it wouldn't be fair to the souls who have been good in life, now would it?"

Well...

With a shake of your head, you walked past him.

This was a waste of time.

"You can try again next meeting but let me tell you now, your idea is never going to be accepted or work for that matter, now if you'll excuse me."

....

No...

He glanced up back and forth at the drone then at you, panic settling in.

No..NO!!

If he let you go now who knows when he'll have another chance at this!

"WAIT!!" He yelled out, his hands outstretched as he rushed ahead to stop you.

But of course, due to his luck, he tripped over his own feet.

Shit!

As he desperately tried to steady himself, he grabbed onto your dress, his eyes widened as the fabric started to rip rapidly.

Fuck!

You cried out in surprise as he collided with you, the impact was sudden and startling, causing you to stumble forward, your body making a loud thumb as it meet the ground, the man following suit, his face landing directly on top of your ass.

.........

Everything went silent.

"Well, that was unexpected."

Was the only thing Vox was able to say.

Oh, this was 𝘧𝘶𝘯.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Someone fucked up BIG time

The lucky mf got to feel the cake on their first meeting.

Btwwww~!

One of my friends made this Fanart of my mc for this!! And even drew her as mermaid!! THANK YOU SO MUCH BESTIE!! I LOVE YOUUU😭😭💖💖💖

This fic is posted on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev

Anyhow hope you enjoyed the chapter, have a nice day! ❣️

[sunflowerskies00]

sun to me, part 2

i was about to start my day

series masterlist

When I get back to the table, three sets of eyes turn to stare at me.

"Spill," Josie says. I just raise an eyebrow at her, not sure what she wants me to say. "Lindsey said you were having a nice little conversation with Luke Hughes?"

"Oh, yeah. He played with Ethan, so we met a few times, he recognized me and wanted to say hi," I say.

"Just hi?" Josie asks. She's more invested in this than I am.

"Yeah, and then asked about how I liked Jersey," I take a pause before rushing out the last part. "And then gave me his number and said if I ever wanted to do something besides go to school and hockey to text him." Josie's jaw drops, and she looks like she might burst with excitement.

"Please date him," she begs me.

"Slow your roll there buddy, I don't even know if I'll text him."

"You have to," she sounds like I'm causing her physical pain by saying that I might not even text him.

"Josie," Ava sounds amused, and Lindsey looks like she's trying not to laugh at our very dramatic roommate.

"Fine, I'll drop it, for now," she pouts but leaves it alone, and Lindsey changes the subject to the professor she's dreading having to see tomorrow because he's cranky and mean.

--------------------

As soon as we're back to the house, I go upstairs to make sure all my crap is together, so I'm not in a complete spin of chaos in the morning. I shove my notebook and laptop back into my backpack and toss my little pen case in on top before zipping it up and setting it on the chair at my desk. I grab a pair of jeans and a slightly cropped t-shirt, lying them across the back of the desk chair. Once I'm sure that everything is ready for tomorrow, I head downstairs where Ava, Josie, and Lindsey are already sitting in the living room. They have some reality tv show playing, and they all look far too invested. I plop down into the empty seat on our sectional, pulling out my phone so I can scroll aimlessly through social media instead of watching whatever they're all so engrossed in.

I've made my to online shopping when my phone buzzes with a text message, from Luke.

I catch myself grinning at my phone as I text him back, making plans for tomorrow.

"Alright, what's got you grinning like the freaking Cheshire cat," Ava pauses their show. I look up from my phone to see all 3 of my roommates looking at me.

"Oh, um, nothing?" It's a lame response, and they obviously know that I'm lying. Josie leans way over and before I can turn off the screen she has a chance to see what's got me smiling.

"You're texting Luke?" She can't fight the smile on her face.

"Um, yeah," I answer, very awkwardly might I add. "We're hanging out tomorrow," I give them what they want to hear.

"You're going on a date with Luke Hughes?" Josie gapes at me.

"Not a date, see I specifically said that, not a date," I point to the last text message.

"Yeah, yeah, in my mind this is a date," she waves a hand at me. I let them interrogate my for approximately five minutes before saying their time was up and they begrudgingly turn their show back on and drop the topic of my not date with Luke.

~*~

NOTE: this is super short I know, I'm at a conference for the next couple of days and I wanted to get something posted before I didn't have time to write.

[izukuwus]

Edible Arrangements 39

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: howdy folks and strokes it took literally all my strength not to post this chapter early yeehaw

if you're interested in a spicy little oneshot, please direct your attention over to Legs Spreadable Arrangements for all your smutty spinoff chapter needs!

please note that this chapter is more than twice the length of recent chapters before settling in to read. please enjoy with responsibility to your sleep schedule! <3

Summary: You're making amazing strides. So is the hunt.

Warnings: oh man haha let's think uhh some talk of death, food mentions including some gross shit, mind fuckery things, implied parental abuse

Word count: 5000+

The students in the day ahead of him are fresh-faced, not yet tainted by the drag of the semester ahead of them. [name] sits at the farthest seat in the back of the room, Ochako sitting with two seats of space between them. Ochako is flashing sweet, pleasant smiles at the other students as they enter. Like this, Izuku almost forgets that Ochako is their aide, here to get them through this class. He wishes he had that privilege. Every time he thinks he can handle this, surreptitiously glancing up from papers to scan the room, he sees their face and feels his heart shatter into powder.

Already his regrets have dragged on for a month. They were, by everyone's judgment, prepared for this, and yet, he doesn't feel like it now. He's not prepared for it, either.

He inhales. Exhales. Checks his watch. Twenty-five students in the course, twenty-one bodies in the room, one of them extra seeing as Ochako isn't technically on the roster. He’d had to remember to add her to the list so no one notices when he calls roll that she's not on it.

Class start time in two minutes. Five no-shows, but they still have time.

He hates this. He hates teaching in-person classes. He hates the moments before the class starts, casing the students out for who he can rely on, who may need to rely on him. Connections to make, or, more likely, to inevitably fall apart as his words tumble, rather than slip, from his mouth.

Class start time in one minute. Two stragglers, running into the room last-minute and skidding into seats at the back, filling the spots between Ochako and [name].

Oh. That won't be good.

They cast a panicked glance Ochako's way, but neither of the two appear to say anything.

Why did they sit apart to begin with? Is [name] less comfortable with being around people now? Is that enough to leave the risk that two stragglers—that he's now growing increasingly angry with—would fill the seats between them?

Class start time is now.

He stands up, clears his throat. Waits for the few surprised looks that are inevitable when he says he's Dr. Midoriya, the professor, and not a TA or a student making a power play.

He's somewhere over fifty years old, thank you very much. How old? Hell if he knows.

So he squares his shoulders, reaches for his list.

"A-alright, I think that's everyone who's showing up, so without waiting any further, hello everyone! I-I'm Dr. Midoriya, I took over this course from Dr. Hakamada in light of his... untimely circumstances." His eyes come to rest on [name], staring blank at their desk. He hesitates. "I know things aren't—things aren't what everyone expected right now, but I expect that all of you will be able to make it through this course if you're willing to keep working and come to me if you have any issues! Before we get into the syllabus for this course, I'm going to give us all a chance to, uh, to break the ice."

Some attentive stares. Some blank. The expected anguished looks from students who don't want to speak up for any reason, let alone to introduce themselves.

"Now, I know some of us are more socially-inclined than others, so I'll let all of you take this at your own pace. Feel free to decide the order you go in, but let's all take a moment to introduce ourselves. How about... name, major, year, and a fun fact about you? I-I'll start!"

Dammit. Stop stuttering.

"My name is Dr. Izuku Midoriya, I teach in several different areas, but specialize in Quirk Theory. A fun fact about me is that, judging by the way most of you assumed I was a TA or another student, I actually have the worst babyface on the planet!"

A few students let out polite laughs. He gives them nods of appreciation in reply.

"Wait, so how old are you?" a girl in the front row asks. She has her chin resting in her hand. "No offense, Professor, but you look younger than nearly everyone in this room."

He laughs at that. It's becoming easier, so long as he doesn't look at [name] in the back. So long as he doesn't acknowledge the heartbreak in the room. "I stopped counting after I hit my fifties."

"Oh, there is no way you're actually in your fifties."

He smiles, nods to her. "Alright then, it sounds like you're volunteering to go next!"

She rolls her eyes with a smile. "I guess I am." She rattles off her introduction—well-practiced, as many are, after several years of several classes all requiring her to rattle off the very same information. Quick, dirty, easy.

He checks off her name and scans the room for the next volunteer.

And his eyes land on [name].

Staring right at him.

With that very same look that tells him they're confused and definitely caught information with their quirk that he didn't think about communicating to them.

He chooses the next lazily raised hand and tries to brush it off as they tap something on their phone—not too discreet, [name], but he'll let it slide—and Ochako reaches for hers moments later.

Oh, to know what information they were exchanging now.

"Good to have you!" he says and checks off the next name to introduce themselves, searches for his next victim. "Next, how about..."

He pauses, tries not to freeze.

"You, in the back."

"[full name]. I'm told I'm in my senior year, and I'm a quirk theory major." A pause. "I like to read, and I don't like to talk."

He laughs softly, more dumbfounded than anything. "Same here. You'll be happy to know that I offer options to turn in papers instead of present in front of the class for every relevant assignment, and that goes for all of you. Now, who's next?"

He eases into it. Tries not to bubble over with relief and maybe excitement at seeing [name] make such a stride in his class. Gets through the icebreakers, goes over the syllabus in detail. He even manages to completely stop stuttering by the end. It's never been about the actually teaching the class, anyway, just the anticipation of where it could go wrong in the moments leading up. And nothing goes wrong!

At least, not until the end of class. He watches his students filter out, watches [name] and Ochako wait. Ochako appears to be chatting with them, ostensibly to make it less obvious that they're waiting to talk to him. He goes through the motions, answers the questions of a stray student, and watches as the pair approach him from the back of the room.

"[name], you did great!" he gushes when he's sure the others have left the room. "I'm glad to see you making an effort to speak up!"

They give a little half-shrug, favoring their unstabbed arm. "I had to ask Ochako what year I was in. I didn't remember."

"Well, that's understandable. I forget my own age, after all!"

Ochako pulls a tight smile. He has the sense that she does a lot of customer-service smiling around him. "[name] had something to ask you?"

They blink in confusion, tilting their head at Ochako. "I thought you did?"

"No, remember? You texted and asked what year you were in, then asked if we could stop after class to ask Dr. Midoriya a question."

She holds up her phone, shows [name] the texts.

"Oh," they say after a moment. "I don't remember, so it probably wasn't important. Sorry."

Oh. He knows what that’s about, doesn’t he?

The look on their face as he joked about his age. The way they can’t process it now.

Another wrench of guilt. He smiles anyway. “Well, if you do remember, you know how to find me! Good work today, both of you.”

A flash of pink at the door. Mina is there, arms crossed, glaring him down while waiting for her friend. When Ochako and [name] leave, Mina lingers a moment longer, just glaring.

He shrugs it off and packs up his things. Class is over. He can handle the rest. Not without issue, of course. The issue was always him.

Besides, soon enough, this will be over. He’s gotten his affairs in order. [name] may never understand it, but they’ll understand the money, the house. They’ll understand Sbeve. If they’re smart—and he knows they are—they can live the rest of their normal life on his dime and never know why. He doesn’t need forgiveness. It won’t do him any good where he’s going.

~

[name] sits on the edge of the couch, listless as the others chat over pizza. In total, there’s five people in the living room, aside from [name]. Whatever they’re talking about, [name] hasn’t been listening, and they’re still not listening when a plate with a slice of pizza is balanced atop their knee.

They eat, mindless.

“[name], honey, are you listening?” Mina elbows their side gently. “Do you remember Tenya? We’re really worried about him right now.”

A flash of recognition. It fades away, slips away from their mind in real time.

“Is Tenya important?”

They don’t miss the looks of pity they receive, though they don’t understand why they receive them. As their attention falls back away, the others turn on to other topics that don’t matter.

None of it does, really.

~

“Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“You’re sure of it?” Tenya spurns his pleasantries with little more than a look.

He sits across from Izuku, looking entirely out of place sitting peacefully in Izuku’s admittedly drafty living room. He really should get that door fixed before [name] inherits it.

“Yes. The Death Adder has been staying in the area. It has to be because we’re here, though I’m not sure he knows we’re working together or even know each other.”

“After he attacked [name], I admit that he knows you’re here. You were probably his target that night.”

“I know. But, look. I was reading the paper—“

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t think anyone still got paper copies in this day and age.”

“I’m fifty years old, so sue me. Anyways!” He lays out the classifieds in front of Tenya, tapping a circled paragraph.

I know where you are, my children. I’d like to see you again someday. DA.

“DA for Death Adder. We’d be his children, in a sick way that makes me even more geared up to do this. But that alone isn’t why I asked you to come here.” He spreads out another paper, this one more recently dated, and taps the circled section on this sheet. “I replied.”

DA - You made me into myself, so many years ago. I’d like to return the favor. If you truly want to see me, you know where to find me. If we meet again, I’ll happily pass on the message you taught me. IM

“That was two days ago. Now, I’ve been getting the paper daily. There was nothing yesterday, but in today’s paper, we have this.”

IM - You will see me again, a week from today. DA.

Tenya looks up from the paper with hardened eyes. “So we have a week.”

“Get your affairs in order, just in case. I’ve already established everything to pass on to [name] once I’m gone. I suggest you figure out where all you have will go.”

Tenya nods. “Do you still have our weapon?”

“[name] secured a bottle of holy water for me, before all this happened. We’ll have to be careful with it, obviously.”

“A week to get my affairs in order and take down a serial killer.”

“No going back?”

“No going back.”

~

When they open their eyes, it is morning. Normal morning, not some obscenely late-in-the-day morning like the ones they’ve been waking up in. The clock reads 9:09 AM, and because it is a weekend, their alarm has not gone off. They sit up in a haze.

This is their bedroom, but this is not the apartment.

No, wherever they are, it is so familiar and so unfamiliar but it is theirs.

Their phone buzzes. It is atop their eight-drawer, fine-wooded dresser. The piece of furniture is more expensive than anything in the apartment. The sight of the mirror attached to it fills them with a strange dread, but they must answer the phone. It’s important. It isn’t important. It’s so, so unimportant. It is Nothing.

They slide out of bed.

What doesn’t matter is how large the bed is. What doesn’t matter is how empty it felt to sit alone on its edge. What doesn’t matter is that it is not the bed they fell asleep in. What doesn’t matter is the depression beside them, where someone laid not long ago.

Who decides what is important and what is not, except for them? Who decides for them?

Bare feet sink into a plush rug. The sensation is familiar, soothing. Lazy mornings before the world stopped making sense and began making change.

Bare feet pad across the room, to the dresser. The phone has stopped buzzing, but they still know they must reach it.

Was the mirror covered before? They can’t remember, but the sight soothes them. They can’t see themselves. Not now.

Beside the phone is an arrangement of fruit skewers in a vase. The card attached to the vase with a simple green ribbon is blank. Nothing is written there. The fruit is rotten, and its heady, alcoholic scent draws them in even as the scent warns of danger and disgust forgotten. Somewhere behind them.

Behind them.

behind you

They turn. Nothing is behind them. There is Nothing in the bed.

Nothing behind them. What is behind them in life? There cannot ever be nothing, not really, but the past must not have been important, if they lose hold on it so easily.

The past, too, must be Nothing behind them.

The buzzing of their phone, once again, but once they turn, it falls away to Nothing.

There is Nothing covering the mirror now, the sheet Nowhere to be seen.

There is a skewer of rotten fruit held to their lips. When did they pick one up?

Their phone is at their ear. They don’t remember answering it.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” They do not know this voice.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure? You’re crying.” They know this voice.

What? No. They can’t be. Why would they be crying?

They put down the phone. The fruit in their mouth squelches as they bite into it, the flesh giving beneath their teeth with the faintest pop. Beyond the skin it is liquid. The flavor is sour and burns their nose as they chew, although there’s no need to do so. Their teeth are sharp, their jaw strong, and the flesh sludge. It leaves them drunk as it melds past their teeth. Although their body protests, they swallow it without a thought and take another bite. It leaves a metallic-tasting burn in its wake.

They look in the mirror, now that they know they can. They shouldn’t be crying. Why would they be crying?

It is now that they realize what is wrong.

The thing about Nothing is that it matters. It matters so, so much. When there is Nothing where there should not be, there is a problem.

They look in the mirror to inspect their tears, and Nothing is there.

~

When they open their eyes, it is morning. Normal morning, not some obscenely late-in-the-day morning like the ones they’ve been waking up in. The clock reads 10:08 AM, and because it is a weekend, their alarm has not gone off. They sit up in a haze.

This is their bedroom. This is the apartment.

This is familiar, and it is theirs.

The knowledge feels good, that there is something that is theirs and cannot be taken from them for at least the year. They feel good, that they have slept well and made it through a week of classes and classwork and physical therapy and worked hard at getting better. Their memories aren’t returning, but their soul is, and that, in itself, feels good. They don’t remember when last they were truly in their body.

They dreamed, they’re pretty sure. Of what, they’re not sure, but phantom aches linger about their throat in pinpricks and bruises, and when they check their reflection in their bathroom, they find no source.

They think back to last week. They had been rude, hadn’t they? They’d completely ignored those questions about Tenya. Their friends were worried, they think. Their friends have been so good to them, and they were rude. They need to do better.

They pad out of the room in their pajamas, not bothering to change, and find Mina and Tsuyu commiserating over breakfast, scrolling their phones in silence.

“Mina? Tsuyu?”

The girls look up in tandem. “[name]. Sleep okay?”

“I’m sorry about last week. You guys were talking about Tenya. You were worried. What’s wrong with Tenya? Can I help?”

“It’s… a lot.” The girls share a look before Mina continues. “We can get into it, but it’ll take a lot out of you, and we’ll need to invite the others back over. The guys, at least. Itsuka isn’t really involved.”

“I feel good today. I think there’s a lot of me to take.”

“If you’re sure, there’s no backing out, okay?”

“O…kay?”

Tsuyu nods, adjusting her posture to focus on the phone in her hand. “I’ll call the boys.”

~

Their friends sit around them in a rough imitation of a circle. They are sat in the center, turning their head nervously as the others settle in.

“Tenya can’t come,” Mina sighs, pocketing her phone, “he says he has plans, but at least you guys are here. Neito, did you bring the stuff?”

“Of course I did. We’re really doing this?”

“Look at them. Their eyes are brighter than I’ve seen them in months. I think we can get them.”

“So how are we doing this?”

“We rely on their quirk,” Neito declares. He’s got a box with him. He reaches in, pulls out an old journal that has something scratching on [name]’s memory. “[name]. This belonged to you. Do you remember it?”

They shake their head. “That isn’t mine.”

“Look at it. Tenya was holding onto it for you for all this time. Will you read it?”

“I don’t—I thought this was about Tenya.”

“It is about Tenya,” he says simply, and it isn’t a lie.

They take the journal. They open it to the first page.

In younger, scratchier handwriting than theirs today, the first page details their name, a phone number that was once theirs, and an address they almost remember writing. They trace a fingertip over the letters. They didn’t write them, but it is undeniably their handwriting, so long ago now.

“This isn’t mine.”

“It is.”

“It’s not!”

“[name], listen to me. You used to be in love with Tenya. The two of you dated for years. You lived with him after cutting ties with your parents.”

“No,” you reply firmly. “That didn’t happen. I don’t remember it.”

“You don’t remember anything.”

“You’re just—you’re just saying things, but that didn’t happen. I don’t know Tenya that well.”

“You did. You used to be inseparable. He still hasn’t gotten over what happened to you and your memories.”

“You’re lying.”

“Look at any of us and tell us whether we’re lying.”

You look. You slip away into them again. “Then you’re wrong.”

Tsuyu slides several photos toward them. [name] picks them up blankly.

They were younger, when these photos were taken. They see themselves, leaned against Tenya’s chest, and they don’t remember ever seeing Tenya, but they know it is him, looking at them with soft eyes.

It is you and him.

Your head hurts.

“Can… can we stop this? I don’t wanna help anymore. This doesn’t—this isn’t important.”

“I’m sorry,” Hitoshi says. “We have to keep going.”

“It’s not just that you used to date,” Neito insists. He has produced a folder that they do not recognize, and their head aches sharply. “We want to give you this to read. A few years back, you were attacked just like you were all those weeks ago. Do you remember? Tenya lost his brother, and you changed. Do you recall what happened?”

They don’t open the folder. “Nothing happened. Nothing.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“If it isn’t, then—“

“It isn’t. Look at them. It’s notes from your therapy sessions with Dr. Fuyumi. Why would you lie to her in therapy, if all of that was untrue?”

They lift their hand, but can’t open the folder. They’re frozen, stuck in the headlights.

“No.”

“No?”

“No!”

The folder is flung, papers fluttering around the room as they bolt for their bedroom. Hitoshi is up and after them, grabbing at them a bit too harshly. “[name]! Didn’t you want to help Tenya?”

“Not anymore!” They bite back. In the next moment, they slip away and stop struggling in his hold.

“Sit back down in the middle of the circle,” he orders, and they obey.

The papers are collected and placed in their lap, roughly back in their same order.

“Speak if you want to. Read the papers you’re holding.”

They tilt their neck downward, eyes roaming over the pages. “These are real?”

“They’re real. We got them from Dr. Fuyumi herself.”

The words ring true. Even without being able to turn to see them, no glow edges at your vision. No evidence of lies.

Your head hurts. Worse and worse it hurts.

The more evidence they pile on, the worse it feels. Unable to look away or run, they whimper out protests. Old texts talking about Tenya. Social media posts long since forgotten, tagging Tenya or talking about a boyfriend or their parents. Another old photo. [name] with a slice of cake, sat next to Tenya.

They—you—keep returning to the notes. “How do you know these notes are real?”

“We stole them from Dr. Fuyumi’s office.”

He isn’t lying.

The words on the page are the truth.

You were attacked by whoever killed Tenya’s brother. Tenya had been acting distant in a way that didn’t seem like grief. You wanted to understand it better and help your boyfriend through a difficult time.

Your boyfriend.

Ex? Boyfriend?

“Hitoshi,” you say, voice hoarse. “Let me go.”

“Are you going to run?”

“No. Let me go.”

He lets you go.

You hunch over, letting the folder and the photos slide off your lap as something strikes. A match against damp sandpaper.

What is he now? Who are you now?

When it comes together at last, the pieces snap into place. You would swear that there was an audible click, or perhaps a cracking like a bone, snapped from crashing your bike into a tree while chasing your dear neighborhood friend.

something is creaking something is bending something is straining under the weight and you cannot understand you will not understand you are not to understand you are to look away you are to forget but you cannot

forget

it is Nothing but the thing about nothing is that Nothing Matters and it is nothing and so it matters

what are you looking away from why are you looking away look at it look at him look at your past look at it look at it LOOK AT IT

~

…are you looking?

~

…are you looking.

~

…do you see it?

they come back to you in fragments. your own wrist, blurry. faint scars there. a soft shade against your skin. a pattern of bite marks.

do you remember who put those there?

it was tenya, wasn’t it? you asked him to. he only fed from you once. something went wrong.

something?

what went wrong?

what’s wrong?

nothing’s wrong.

You’re crying.

The fragments slip from your grasp as you come back into the moment. Mina is holding you as you thrash, holding you as you sob. Your vision is white, and you are screaming, and it is normal, and you are staring at a photo on the floor of you with Tenya and remembering the day it was taken.

He had planned a surprise party for you. It was your first birthday away from your parents. He’d declared it a necessity for a proper birthday party to be held, and so it was, with cake at his parents’ dining room table and all kinds of gifts and an innocuous sheet of paper declaring you officially emancipated from your parents.

The headache is blinding, less so as you latch onto the memory and find more attached.

The fragments come up like a system of roots and fungus, a mycelial network of all the things you’d forgotten you’d forgotten.

Tenya, chasing off bullies for you with nothing but a glare and his size, being an older kid. Tenya, never raising a hand and yet protecting you all the same. Tenya on one side of you, Tensei on the other, explaining in dire words the situation you were in and couldn’t you stay for a while? Tenya’s mother, smiling and nodding and saying she’d speak to their father but they have an extra guest bedroom in the meantime if you’d like to spend the night.

“How long?” You whisper, and it is you, but it is not. All of the things you remember as though they were yesterday, and yet, you cannot find Yesterday among your memories. There is a gap, or more like a ravine, stretching between you. When was Yesterday? Where are You?

“Years.”

“But that isn’t everything, is it? There’s more. More than just that my… boyfriend? Ex? Best friend? Fuck, I don’t know, that he’s a vampire? That vampires exist? The lifetime of tragedy I couldn’t save him from?”

“No. There’s more. It’ll take more pain, but we’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

There isn’t a moment’s hesitation, only a question. “Tenya was never coming for this, was he?”

“No. He doesn’t know we’re doing this, and he’s off doing god knows what.”

“…I don’t know if I want to know what it is I forgot.”

“You do.” Tsuyu’s voice is firm. “You just can’t know you want it.”

“Don’t you want to know why you’ve been so despondent? Don’t you want to remember what you’ve done? The months leading up to your stab wound? Me and Hitoshi?” Neito’s voice is low.

You don’t want to know. You don’t want to know.

You don’t—

“Unlock your phone.”

You listen, though you don’t have to, and wait for further instruction.

“Have you been without your phone at all since you woke up without your memories?”

You shake your head.

“Look back at your old texts. What do you notice?”

You look. There are ones where your eyes glaze over, where you just can’t focus on the words or the photos. They must be talking about other texts, anyways—

“Look at the ones you don’t want to look at. There’s someone you’ve forgotten. Not me or Neito, but someone else. There, stop scrolling.”

You stop on a photo of you. It’s a selfie. Someone is beside you—a man with a cute face and fluffy green hair and freckles. “I know him,” you mumble. There is a flicker of hope as they gather around you. “He’s my professor.”

The hope flickers but does not extinguish.

“He’s more than that. Don’t look away. When did you meet him?”

“Dr. Midoriya and I met a month or two ago, I think. Ochako took me to meet him so I would be able to get ready for the summer semester.”

“No,” Hitoshi starts to say, but Mina cuts him off.

“What do you remember about that meeting?”

“Um… I don’t know. Dr. Midoriya was lying about it being nice to meet me?”

“Why would he lie about that?”

“Because I’m a pain in the ass with a lot of accommodations…?”

Mina coos with pity, then shakes her head. “Remember, there are usually other explanations that don’t involve self-deprecation. Why else might he lie about it being nice to meet you?”

You pause for a long time, staring at the photo even as your headache rears its hideous head once again. “It wasn’t nice.”

“Or…?”

“He wasn’t meeting me?”

“There you go. That wasn’t your first meeting. Look at the date on that photo.”

October 31st, 2050. During the Yesterday you’re missing.

You put down the phone. You look away, rubbing your eyes. Your head is split.

“Come on, [name], don’t look away now. Just a little further and you’ll remember. If you can’t look at the photo, look at me. All you have to do is verify whether or not I’m telling you the truth.”

A whimper. You open one eye to look at Tsuyu as she speaks. “You were in love with Izuku. You lived with him for months. You kissed him on New Year’s and you had a cat together named Sbeve.”

“I’ve met Sbeve,” you manage. “He was sweet. I guessed his name right.”

“You named him. When you stopped living with Izuku, you had been sleeping with him for months.”

They’re telling the truth. Why are they telling the truth? Would it kill them to lie to you? Would it kill them? Won’t this kill them?

the bending the creaking the snapping of the pressure in your head but it isn’t enough it won’t be enough

“Do me a favor and look at this.”

you are looking.

there is a phone in front of you. the camera is on. the screen shows not your face. the screen shows your neck. someone guides your hand to touch the throat. you watch the hand move, reflected in the camera image on the screen. something changes. you must not understand. you are beginning to understand. you cannot look away. something changes.

your neck is littered in bite marks

and

you

snap.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @xxangelpridexx​ @lirinstaalem @izoodles​​ @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin​ @sincerelybubbles​ @fudobaby​ @imabootywarrior​ @chickynn​ @fuc-kingmonkey​​ @the-secret-thief​​ @kc-korra​ @kiliakit​ @hay-leeeah​ @meowkid1000​ @mha-baku-todo-deku-kiri​ @jojo-buttercup​ @starfishlovingbnha​​ @wwwwyamd​ @omiwashere​ @emilytheeggy​ @subwayslander​ @thelittle-witch​ @sparkexplosive​ @shoutaaizawas​ @vanilladyfics​ @stargazerunlimited​ @chaoticevilbakugo​ @deeplightgarden @stxrrielle @idonthaveanameideayet @snowymaltese @bnha-babygirl @graywrites20 @dusstory @sky-angel101

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[mi6-cafe]

It's December!

After a year of fun monthly themes, we are themeless this month as we transition into trying something new. (More on that below.) Instead this month we encourage you to lean into the end of the year spirit and create anything you want as a gift to yourself.

You can also look forward to the Festive Fanwork Fiesta works, the premiere of our quarterly themes, and our annual end of the year survey!

Festive Fanwork Fiesta

Signs-ups are complete! Prompts will be sent out and prompt responses posted each week for the four weeks of the event. We’re looking forward to seeing what our creative participants come up with!

If you missed sign-ups but still want to participate, send us an email at mi6cafemod@gmail.com and we’ll get you sorted! 

The Saturday Cafe: December 2nd, 16th, and 30th

Come join us in the fandom Slack as we write, draw, sprint, plot, brainstorm, cheerlead, and generally have a good time trying to get things done together. If you’d like an invite to the Slack, go ahead and message @castillon02 or @spiritofcamelot!

Long Fic Readalong, Saturdays at 9pm ET

Join us in the Discord while we read a fic together. This is a chance to enjoy the fun of reading a chaptered work in weekly installments with all the laughter and shared suspense that that involves. The group is currently reading “Treason, Traitors, and Treachery” by Kryptaria and zooeyscigar!

We’d love to see you there. You are welcome to listen if you don’t or can’t read aloud!    

When: Saturdays at 9pm eastern/6pm Pacific.

Where: We’ll be reading on discord in the readalongs channel. (Invite to discord here)

Please join us to read, to just hang out and listen, and to generally enjoy a good story together!

Holiday Readalongs, December 23rd and 30th at 9pm ET

The usual long fic readalongs are being replaced by two holiday fic readalongs! We'll be reading assorted shorter, holiday-themed fics together.

Just like with the long fic readalongs, we'll be in discord and you are welcome to just listen without reading aloud.

Quarterly theme

Starting on the winter solstice (December 21st) we will announce our first quarterly theme! Each solstice for the next year we will reveal a new overarching theme which will replace our traditional monthly theme. These quarterly themes will be pretty general and hopefully will leave you all a lot of ways to interpret them. Because they are quarterly, we will spice it up with some monthly subthemes, debuting in January.

End of the Year Survey

As we have been doing since 2017, we will have an end of the year survey which we hope you will all fill out to help continue to make this community as wonderful as it is. We will be posting this the last week of December and it will be open for a couple weeks. Stay tuned!

Weekly events:

WIP Wednesday: You can post an excerpt of your WIP on our post or make your own post and mention the @mi6-cafe. Either way it’s a fun way to show people what you’re working on, Bond fandom or otherwise.

Weekly Bond movies: Hosted by womble every Sunday at 8am Pacific time, join us in Discord to watch one of the Bond movies. Keep an eye on the watch party calendar linked below for updates.

Want to host your own event in the Discord or elsewhere? Let us know about it so we can add it to the calendars!

Calendars

Watch Party Calendar MI6 Cafe Calendar   If you need help adding these calendars to your personal one, check out this post.

[valpohq]

WELCOME TO OUR SOFT OPENING !

Hello  jewels  of  Santa  Moneda  !  Thank  you  so  much  for  joining  us  for  the  soft  opening  of  Santa  Moneda  !  We  have  several  fun  things  planned  for  everyone  to  get  to  know  our  muses  better  leading  up  to  our  grand  opening  on  Saturday,  the  11th  ! The  soft  opening  is  to  help  better  develop  your  characters  and  explore  some  aspects  of  them  that  you’ve  never  thought  of  before,  haven’t  thought  of  yet,  or  wouldn’t  generally  be  able  to  in  a  thread.  This  is  to  also  help  people  find  connections  and  create  plots  with  each  other  to  prepare  for  when  we  open  for  interactions,  and  lastly,  for  people  to  get  excited  about  who  they  play  and  who  they’re  playing  with!

The  soft  opening  will  consist  of  the  following:

Ask  memes  and  musing  posts:  We'll  have  4  ask  meme  posts  available  for  you  to  reblog,  and  we will  send  them  in  the  bulletin  board  in  the  discord  server.  Please  only  reblog  2  a  day  as  to  not  flood  the  dash,  and  make  sure  you're  sending  just  as  much  as  you're  receiving.  We  encourage  you  to  use  these  ask  memes  and  their  responses  as  a  way  to  curate  wanted  connections,  or  connections  with  muses  as  they  begin  to  be  posted.  You  can  also  posts  musings  posts  for  your  muse  and  wanted  connections.  These  are  both  mandatory.

Nightly  writing  sprints,  and  writing  space  at  Vicente's:  Take  part  in  sprinter  and  a  micless  voice  channel  in  the  discord  where  we'll  be  listening  to  music  together  and  writing  our  intros,  wanted  connections,  or  brainstorming  for  threads  we'd  like.  We'll  be  curating  a  writing  playlist  that  you're  more  than  welcome  to  add  to,  and  we  encourage  it  !  Doing  so  will  grant  you  points  to  be  used  later  one  !  This  completely  optional  !

Question  of  the  day:  Lastly,  we'll  be  having  both  IC  and  OOC  questions  of  the  day  in  their  respective  server.  This  will  give  us  a  chance  to  learn  more  about  our  characters  and  each  other  !  We  hope  it'll  help  make  it  easier  to  reach  out  for  interaction,  and  encourage  plotting  outside  of  the  main  server.  The  question  of  the  day  is  optional  but  highly  encouraged.

General  Channels:  You'll  have  free  use  of  the  channels  once  reading  the  rules  so  please  use  them  !  Send  in  photos  of  your  muse,  let  us  see  tiktoks  that  remind  you  of  them,  talk  about  places  in  your  intro  where you're stuck or  ask  about  wanted  connections  !  We  meant  it  when  we  said  we're  so  happy  to  have  your  muses  at  Santa  Moneda  and  want  to  learn  all  about  them  !

Our  soft  opening  will  last  from  Monday,  November  6th  at  12AM  CST  to  Friday,  November  10th  at  11PM  CST  because  we  open  for  interaction  on  Saturday,  November  11th,  at  12AM  CST  !  More  to  come  on  that  later  !  Thanks  so  much  again  for  joining  our  little  community,  and  we're  can't  wait  to  write  with  you  all  !

[fitnesspizzainmydiet]

NEVER SAY NO TO PIZZA AGAIN

Growing up we had pizza at least once a week. My father was born and raised in Brooklyn and man, did he love his pizza. He would call home every Thursday and ask, “did your mother cook?” to which I would always sarcastically reply “of course not, it’s pizza night!” and then he would say “call up Dickie Dees, order a large pie with extra cheese and pepperoni, well done. Tell them ‘Jimmy’ will be there in ten minutes.” Some of my favorite memories with my dad include us either ordering pizza and watching WWE, or stopping at random hole in the wall pizza joints to see what they were about.

I’ll never forget, two weeks after getting my tonsils removed my mother got called into work for an emergency meeting and my father was responsible for feeding my siblings and I dinner that night. Guess what he ordered?

A large, extra cheese and pepperoni pie, well done from Dickie Dee’s in Newark, NJ.

The problem? I couldn’t eat solid foods yet!

Did that stop me? NOPE. My father and I sat there and cut up two slices of pizza into the tiniest, bite size pieces and I chewed them up until they were soft enough to swallow. It may have taken me thirty minutes to eat two slices of pizza, but Dad didn’t raise a quitter 💪🏽

When I decided to start losing weight as an adult, I knew I would never be successful if my meals were limited to baked chicken and broccoli or boring Cesar salads.

That’s when I learned about flexible dieting and calories in VS calories out.

For years, the media has glorified weight pills, surgeries, or overly restrictive diets for weight loss. I’m living proof that you can lose weight without giving up your favorite foods (or getting surgeries that restrict your diet for the rest of your life anyways).

I’ve been counting calories for the last two years, and I’m watching the pounds shed off week by week. I recommend everyone try this method at least once and try to do it for three months to give yourself time to see results.

The first thing you need to do is calculate how many calories you should be consuming. I recommend using this website to do that. These are going to be your maintenance calories. In order to lose weight, you need to be in a calorie deficit (meaning you need to eat less calories than you burn.) If you’re just starting out, I recommend a 3-400 deficit.

So let’s say your maintenance calories are 2400 calories per day. Subtract 400 from that, and you have the amount of calories you should be eating in a deficit, 2000 calories. I like to think about these calories as dollars (bare with me)

So let’s say you have $2000 (or 2000 calories). How you chose to spend those $2000 is completely up to you.

If you have a nice, low calorie breakfast and you want to go to McDonalds for lunch and order a Big Mac with large fries, a large coke and an apple pie go for it. Just remember that you still need to be within the 2000 calorie range in order to see results. So if you had that nice, low calorie breakfast, and then you ordered everything off the dollar menu at McDonalds for lunch, chances are you’re going to have to make some sacrifices and eat that boring old cesar salad for dinner.

It all comes down to calories in VS calories out.

With all that being said, there are plenty of ways you can make some of your favorite meals at home for half the calories without sacrificing flavors. One of the ways I’m able to eat pizza three times a week while losing weight is by making my own at home! As promised in my previous post, I’ll walk you through the recipe and leave the macros below!

Ingredients

1 Cup of self rising flour (this is super important!)

¾ Cup of Non-fat plain Greek yogurt

¼ cup of your favorite pizza sauce (homemade is best!)

56g of low fat or fat free mozzarella cheese

17g of turkey pepperoni (optional)

4g salt

4g garlic powder

Preheat your oven to 420 degrees Fahrenheit. 

Start by adding ¾ cup of your yogurt to a bowl, along with the salt and garlic powder. You can feel free to add whatever seasonings you’d like here, but I feel like the salt and garlic give the dough that classic NYC pizza dough flavor. Add in ¼ cup of flour at a time and stir until combined. If you have a stand mixer, use your dough hook to make this part a little easier on yourself. If not, a wooden spoon is fine! I tend to use a little less than a full cup of flour, but I keep the remaining to the side to sprinkle on the counter while kneading/rolling out the dough.

Once your dough comes together and is still a little tacky, flour your work space and start rolling out that pizza dough to your designed shape and thickness. Place the dough on a nonstick oven safe pan (I got my 10” pizza pans at Big Lots on sale for ten cents!! Check your local discount stores’ sale sections!) and place in your preheated oven for ten to fifteen minutes. It is important to cook the dough before adding any sauce or toppings so it can cook evenly. Once the dough starts to rise a bit, remove from the oven and start adding your toppings.

I like to use homemade sauce because it just taste the best in my opinion, but you can use whatever you’d like! Keep in mind that the calories will differ depending on what brand you use.

Once you have your pizza assembled, place it back into the oven for an additional 10-12 minutes or until the crust is golden brown. I like to spray the crust with a little bit of cooking spray for that beautiful golden brown color!

Take the pizza out of the oven and allow to cool for 3-5 minutes before cutting. Slice your pizza into 6-8 slices and enjoy!

If you follow these instructions to the T, you will have an entire pizza that is only 620calories, 2.3g fat, 102g carbs and 48g protein!

Give this recipe a shot and let me know how you like it!

[fifiliphile]

Cotton Ball (College AU)

[Ao3 Version]

“You’re infuriating and I want to throw something at you, but the only thing I have on me are my clothes, so here comes my shirt” AU — AKA the morning after Don't Give Me Flannel

So, yeah, it's been a while. *sigh* I know I have a couple of other things to finish and my consistency isn't worth much, but I want to go back at least to writing little tit-bits. Aaand there is a chance that I might get on medication in autumn (which I'm really hoping for), and that should help at least somewhat with other things and leave me more time and energy for writing. Either way, I'm presenting to you a sequel to Don't Give Me Flannel, which I've been meaning to finish for quite a while now. This time we are looking at the situation through Charles's eyes, which was quite fun to write. Like the first one-shot, it is rather fluffy, so beware — it might just rot your teeth. Thanks to my lovely partner @aphyxiation for reviewing this little piece before posting — your encouragement means the world to me ❤ Enjoy!

“Rise and shine.”

The voice resounds somewhere above Charles’s ear, and although soft, it still manages to rouse him from the deep sleep he’s managed to fall into for the first time in weeks. Even the familiarity of the voice’s lovely low timbre does little to ease Charles’s displeasure at being woken up so early. It’s hardly a surprise, though—as far as Charles’s morning routine is concerned, he’s never been an early riser, certainly not after nights spent reading, studying, or doing research.

Thoroughly displeased, and more than a little groggy, Charles groans, about to roll over to his back, but something solid and warm behind him stops him in his tracks. He freezes, feeling the reverberations of a quiet chuckle against his spine.

“Time to get up, our exams won’t write themselves,” the voice mutters encouragingly into Charles’s neck.

It takes a moment for Charles’s mind, still somewhat fuzzy with sleep, to catch up enough to draw a connection between the much cherished voice and its owner. However, much to Charles’s dismay, it only serves to further confuse him. After all, what could possibly Erik be doing in Charles’s bed, snuggled to his back, especially once Charles realises he’s still wearing his comfy pyjamas.

“Erik?,” Charles croaks, once again trying to turn around. “Am I forgetting something?”

Finally, he manages to turn around when Erik pulls away a bit, in time to see the amusement on his friend’s face. In fact, so endearing is Erik’s half-smile that Charles struggles not to lean in closer and kiss all the smugness off of that gorgeous mouth.

“I promised I’d tuck you in,” Erik explains innocently, though he’s still smirking. “And then I tucked myself in,” he adds, as if it was all the explanation that Charles needed.

A quiet, albeit inelegant snort is the only response that Charles deems necessary while he’s racking his brain in hopes of recalling what had happened the night before. Remembering isn’t an issue in itself—Charles has always had a rather remarkable memory—but his mind tends to take some time to catch up so early in the morning, especially after just a few short hours of sleep. Luckily, it is quick to supply him with the recollection of last night.

Oh.

Oh.

A breath leaves Charles’s mouth with a quiet hiss when the realisation finally dawns on him. Unable to quell down the disbelief, he reaches across the few inches that separate him from Erik, his hand hovering over his friend’s face. Slowly, he brings it down to Erik’s cheek, stroking it gently, and then traces the line of Erik’s jaw, his fingertips catching on the light stubble there, just like they did the night before.

Surprise flashes across Erik’s face at the gesture, his expression quite akin to the one he wore last night, as soon as they parted for a breath, with Charles heaving, yet grinning like a fool.

“You… You’ve wanted this?,” Erik asked then, his voice hoarse, after what felt like an eternity.

Charles couldn’t stop smiling, his hand still touching his friend’s face, his fingers running gently across the expanse of the soft skin. It was utterly fascinating, watching a minute hitch in Erik’s breath when he reached the man’s lips, flushed slightly from the kiss.

“Darling, I’ve wanted to kiss you for the longest time,” he admitted, his voice low, an endearment easily falling out of his mouth. “Ever since we had that first heated discussion about the question of mutant recognition programmes, which you, of course, don’t see as an opportunity to build solidarity and create communities, but as a leeway to start registering all of us.”

Charles could see the argument rising in Erik’s eyes, his thoughts slowly becoming more turbulent, but any interruption died on Erik’s lips when Charles giggled, looking away.

“I hardly could keep coming up with substantive arguments because I couldn’t look away from your lips.” Although Charles’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, they remained close enough that he was sure Erik could hear him. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

Upon hearing this, Erik frowned and just stared at him, his mind lighting up with the recollection of that particular evening as he was desperately trying to understand how he could’ve missed that. And then his thoughts wandered to a completely different moment of that party.

“Emma was right, damn that woman,” he said under his breath, looking away from Charles’s face as if he was trying to hide his annoyance, even though Charles could clearly feel it seeping from Erik’s mind.

Either way, it wasn’t a statement that Charles had expected, not in the least. He leaned slightly away from Erik with surprised amusement, catching an image of Emma, dressed in her signature impeccable white and smiling slyly, as it flashed in front of Erik’s mind.

“Was she?,” he asked incredulously, his lips curling into a smile.

Erik just sighed heavily, but Charles could see the corners of his friend’s eyes wrinkling up.

“The next day after that party, she asked me if I had fun with ‘that telepath of mine,’” he explained, equally exasperated and amused. “Her words, not mine,” he clarified immediately and Charles did his best not to chuckle at that. (Barely, but somehow he managed.) “I told her that I agreed to get you home, since we live in the same dorm anyway, and that she shouldn’t get any ideas. She just looked at me as though I was an idiot and berated me for brushing off the guy who was practically throwing himself at me.”

“You never told me that.” Charles said, with good humour rather than accusingly. “Was I really that obvious?” His smile must’ve been a little sheepish, yet he wasn’t feeling particularly self-conscious.

“Apparently not enough, if my obliviousness is anything to go by,” Erik sighed, but he was grinning nonetheless.

They were so close that Charles could feel Erik’s breath on his skin. It took him a moment to realise that all this time he had been absentmindedly tracing patterns across Erik’s skin, at first touching his face, then his neck, and now he was caressing Erik’s chest.

“It’s not your fault, I should’ve said something, instead of just waiting for you to…” Charles stopped and shook his head with exasperation at his own aloofness, yet his humour continued to be marvellous. “But you couldn’t have known, you’re not the one with telepathic abilities here,” he quipped, delighted to see the amusement in Erik’s eyes in response.

Charles had always enjoyed the casual banter that he and Erik often engaged in. Now, however, with everything out in the open, it was an utterly different and absolutely delightful experience. And looking at Erik’s smugness, Charles couldn’t help but feel giddy, all the stress of the incoming exams pushed to the back of his mind.

“But you like me anyway.” Erik smirked, his voice low and making Charles’s insides twist.

Charles mirrored his smile and leaned in, whispering against Erik’s lips, “Very much so.”

Completely lost in the memory of the last night, Charles barely notices a shuffle of the sheets, while the mattress sinks a bit next to him after Erik sits up on the bed.

“Come on, we should get up,” he says decisively, pulling Charles out of his reverie.

The telepath groans, burying his face in the pillow. A meagre couple of hours of sleep hasn’t been enough to make him feel less than bone-tired and he would do anything to get even five more minutes of sleep. The fact that Erik’s smell still lingers on the soft fabric doesn’t make it any easier to move away from the warm comfort of the bed.

“Can’t we just stay in bed for a few more minutes?” Charles mumbles into the pillow, feeling forlorn as the ghost of Erik’s warmth is slowly fading.

“We’ve wasted enough time as it is,” Erik points out with a meaningful glance, though he lingers on the bed, and gingerly places his hand on Charles’s back.

He’s clearly still slightly hesitant about casual intimacy, Charles notes. And yet, the initial tenseness of Erik’s fingers is quickly gone, as Charles turns to look up at him.

“You could at least give me a morning kiss?” the telepath says innocently, though he is certain that Erik notices his small playful smile, if his exasperated groan is any indication.

“Charles, we need to get ready.” Despite Erik’s insistence, Charles can feel his regretfulness.

Not even slightly discouraged, he raises from the pillow, propping himself up on his forearms. Although he knows that chances of convincing Erik to go back to bed are slim to none, he isn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Not even a peck?” He flutters his lashes perhaps a tad too ostentatiously, but he can’t help himself.

Erik regards him for a moment, and although the surface of his mind feels calm, there is a slight thrum of uncertainty which betrays that he is quite conflicted. Even though Charles knows that he’s a rather terrible flirt, his friend appears to be utterly susceptible to his questionable charms.

However, in a split second, Erik’s mind flashes with determination and he’s quickly on his feet. He wastes no time and crosses the room in just a few steps, stopping next to the window with a triumphant smile.

“Well, if you want one, you’ll have to come here,” he teases, practically beaming with satisfaction.

Charles, obviously, does not sympathise. Distantly, he knows that if he wants to make it to the exam in time, he needs to leave the safe confines of his bed soon, but if it’s somehow possible to prolong the blissfulness of staying in his warm bed, he will do all that he can to do it.

“I’m not moving.” He crosses his arms, and pouts theatrically.

Erik, the bastard, laughs at that and Charles tries really hard to ignore how delightful of a sound he makes. (Which is an utter failure, of course.)

“Then there won’t be any kisses for you, mister.” Erik smiles, charming as usual, his mind practically gleaming with amusement.

As annoyed as Charles is at that utterly despicable abuse of power–truly, how has Erik dared to betray him like that?–he is fighting to suppress a smile. 

“Screw you.” 

With a flourish, Charles buries himself back below the covers, intent on staying exactly where he is, thank you very much. A distant, decidedly more responsible part of his mind screams at him to move, what with the exam that he has to write today, but he stubbornly ignores it, way too content to allow his usual anxiety to kick in.

Erik is not discouraged by his childish behaviour, though–if anything, his smug smile only grows.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He raises his eyebrow suggestively, pitching his voice much lower than necessary, really.

Now that insinuation–however correct–is simply unacceptable so early in the morning and right before an important exam. Charles sends the deadliest glare he’s able to muster from under the covers, which only appears to further amuse Erik. With nothing else left–certainly no willpower–Charles does the first thing, which comes to his mind–he grabs one of his pillows and chucks it in Erik’s direction. Considering how sleepy he still is and how his hand-eye coordination is lacking on the best of days, it isn’t that bad of a throw, the pillow landing just shy of Erik’s feet. But this is not nearly intimidating enough and Erik just laughs.

Charles is not impressed and he expresses it by throwing the second pillow. This also does not have the desired effect; moreover, it leaves Charles with no pillows, and he realises that too late, when the second pillow has already landed a foot away from Erik, who reaches for it triumphantly.

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to fall back asleep now,” he says with mock worry, trying for Charles’s accent and failing spectacularly.

Which is even more annoying, because Charles knows that he can do better than that.

“Shut up.”

“Or what?”

Out of options and anything close enough to grab, Charles has nothing else to do but to use the top of his pyjamas as another projectile–this time it even hits its target, although Erik easily catches it, despite his obvious surprise. He’s no longer laughing and Charles counts it as a success, even though he knows that he has lost the fight. Perhaps it wasn’t his intention, but undressing clearly has at least managed to get Erik to stop being so smug about the whole thing.

With a long sigh, Charles entangles himself from the covers and jumps of the bed. He needs to shower to feel at least a bit human, and so he takes off towards their en suite, severely missing the warmth of his bed, even though he knows that he already is behind schedule, not that he would be willing to admit it out loud.

“If you’re done being infuriating, you can give me back my shirt,” he says, stopping in front of Erik, and he doesn’t miss the way his friend’s eyes drift lower down his chest before he manages to shake his head and look at the shirt in his hands.

“Why do you insist on sleeping in this atrocity?” He hands it to Charles, his eyes still locked on the offending item of clothing.

“It’s warm.” Charles shrugs. “And you know I'm getting cold at night.”

The smug look is back on Erik’s face. 

“Maybe I could just warm you up instead…” His voice is low again, and Charles truly hates how it makes his blood flow south.

Ignoring that sensation, he purses his lips, pretending to ponder the offer, but at the same time stepping quickly away, beyond Erik’s reach.

“A truly tempting offer, Mister Lehnsherr.” Charles throws a quick glance over his shoulder, about to open the door to the bathroom, and he can help but bat his lashes again, even as Erik rolls his eyes. “But for now… I believe I need to get ready.” Charles punctuates this statement with a not-exactly-apologetic smile and quickly slips into the bathroom.

As the door closes behind, he hears Erik muttering something under his nose, but a quick brush against his mind confirms that he’s only mildly annoyed.

“You’re insufferable,” he shouts through the closed door nonetheless, and Charles just laughs.

[frauleindermorgen]

i'm sorry to be a pelleas rper and ask for 3-13's pre-battle scene 🙈 u know the lines,

canon scene meme | open

it's okay n. nat had ur back anyhoww WAHOO MORE RADIANT DAWN SPOILERS BELOW.

cont. from this ask. let's pick the scene right up again

[ミカヤ] ……でき…ません………▼ "I can't.... I can't do it..."

We've covered what happens if Micaiah accepts Pelleas' command. The scene where Tauroneo kills him instead does not add much, though I do think it's interesting when Almedha insists it must have been Micaiah's fault her son died the response is "...". She doesn't deny it, even though she herself had just been crying over his body. idk idk there's a lot to unpack her without Almedha let's move on

Pelleas apologizes to Sothe and Miciah both for the trouble after handing Tauroneo the knife on NG+, asking Micaiah to give Almedha a ring and his love.

[ペレアス] ミカヤ… この指輪を母上に。▼ できれば…… 心より愛していましたと 伝えてほしい。▼ "Micaiah. This ring, give it to my mother. Tell her I truly loved her, please." [ミカヤ] ……っ……… ……………………▼ (a pained sound)

*lol i was wrong she technically makes a noise here. probably a sharp intake of breath. 🤓

[ペレアス] さようなら、みんな。▼ "Goodbye, everyone."

[ミカヤ] いいえ……っ！ だめです！ ペレアス王、諦めてはだめ！！▼ "N-no! "Not this! King Pelleas, you cannot give up!"

(Micaiah steps between Pelleas and Tauroneo as the latter makes the stab animation. The screen goes white.)

[ペレアス] 君は、なんてことをするんだ…！ "Micaiah, why!" [ミカヤ] ……だい…じょうぶです… …わたしは……▼ "It's.... fine.... I'm... "[ペレアス] すぐ治療を……▼ "A healer, we need - " [ミカヤ] …いりません！▼ ……こんな傷………平気です…▼ あなたを犠牲にして…生き続けろと 言われることに比べたら…… 痛みなんて…ないも同然です……▼ "We don't! This is... fine... Compared to... hearing you say you'd sacrifice yourself... This pain is nothing."

SO!!!!!! looking this over after initially lobbing the jp version of this scene at n i have MORE to say wahaha. Now that I'm not hastily translating it the already BANGER lines about Micaiah's pain meaning nothing to her contain so much more when accurately translated. It's not just that it's less painful because Pelleas isn't being sacrificed. Being stabbed by Tauroneo is literally less painful to her than hearing Pelleas plead for his death before her. Fuck me up.

[ペレアス] ………ミカヤ……▼ ……だけどっ！ 僕のせいなんだっ！！▼ あんな誓約をした責任を…… …せめてこの命で償いたい……▼ "Micaiah.... but still! All of this remains my fault. The responsibility of making that vow... I thought if I could atone for it with my life..."

[ミカヤ]……逃げないで……▼ "You're running away.... don't. [ペレアス] ！▼ [ミカヤ] 戦いましょう。 最後の一瞬まで……▼ …たとえ、わずかでも…… わたしたちには可能性が残されている… ……だから………生きて……▼ "Let's fight on. Until the very end.... it may be small... but there is a chance.... so you have to live...."

I said in my last post I think Micaiah is angry at Pelleas here, and I stand by that. I think it's her anger that is allowing her to speak so frankly here. The adrenaline rush that led her to get in the knife's path and her words directly after it, I find difficult to interpret as anything other than an anger born of love. Don't get me wrong Micaiah's actions here could read as platonic but guess what kids my house my blog and 1. This scene being the cliche "realizing feelings too late" hits hard and good and i make the canon 2. Whoever shipped Micapell on the writers team WENT OFF during this exchange so i feel vindicated by you intsys employee. I see you.

To end this speel I do think the last lines are very telling of Micaiah's overall character, as well as her feelings for Daein. Not just Pelleas. The base conversation where Micaiah swears to Sothe she'd rather be like Ashnard than just if being just means having the people of Daein slaughtered is a direct continuation of this thought process, and I think it is a good example as - even if we lack many DB scenes - she continues to exist as their leader and beacon of hope. I think I'll talk more on this in another post but for now :salute:

[greypetrel]

WIP Wednesday

I've been tagged by @melisusthewee, whom I thank for giving me the chance to share!

Since I already post wips for drawing, here you go with something written... I'm planning out the DadWolf AU, I'm gonna write it down but it needs some worldbuilding first. But my hands are quicker than my brain so... some brewing for some DRAMA, three years after this, they're both 21. (It's basically a modern time AU, so... Yeah, you know what happened to poor Cullen.)

More and a silly doodle of Aisling and Cullen at 15, before stuff went wrong, under the cut! Consider yourself tagged if you see this!

Aisling. [ Hey, stranger! Let’s see if you’ll reply this time… Are you still in Denerim or have you been reassigned? :) ]

Cullen. [ Hello. Yes. Why? ]

Aisling. [ Wonderful! Are you free to see an old friend? I’ll be in Denerim for a three days seminar, the weekend after this, but I’m free after the lessons. Ydun is coming too, but… What about doing something together? It’s been ages since I saw you, those enslavers didn’t even let you get home for First Day… ]

Cullen. [ Is Ydun ok? ]

Aisling. [ Of course, I already told her. I can see her often anyway, so you have the precedence. As for what… Nothing fancy, even just a cup of coffee to catch up? You tell me how much time do you have. Or I think our AirBnB has a tv: Netflix and chill? We can order pizza and eat it on the couch, for old time’s sake. You can choose the movie, I maaaaay also be willing to finally see Top Gun. If you ask nicely. ]

Cullen. [ My free evening is on Saturday, but I already have plans. ]

Aisling. [ Oh. Yeah, sounds right, you get so little free time… Sorry if I insisted. Well… If you get five minutes free, give me a call? I’d love to see you again, I’ve missed you. You get so little time to chat, and you disappeared these last months… And I feel like it’s only me speaking. Sorry, I must be bothering you. ]

Cullen. [ I’m very busy.

*2 hours later*I will be at this pub with some people, if you really want to join. *location forwarded* ]

Aisling. [ :D That would be wonderful! We’ll be there, sure! Any dress code we should know of? Only uniforms allowed, should I show up in lab coat, rubber gloves and goggles? I look like Gollum with goggles. u_u ]

Cullen. [ Just dress normal if you really want to come. 8pm. ]

Aisling. [ Ok? Sure… Can’t wait! :D ]

Aisling stared at her phone and that exchange for the tenth time since it happened, those weeks ago. She read and read it again, not understanding. Something was off, she could tell… Or well, it would have been off three years ago, before he left, with the shy, kind boy that was her best friend since kindergarten.  Maybe he was just too busy to stay on his phone. Maybe it was really just that. He was an officer after all, graduated with flying colours as Mia informed her -they had a party at the Rutherfords to celebrate, but Cullen didn’t show up. Cullen, actually, hadn’t written nor replied in the last six months, not even to Mia. He had responsibilities, and… Well.

A hand blocked her visual of the screen, taking the phone away from her hand with a huff.

“You’ll dig a hole in the screen if you’ll keep staring at it, doll.”

Ydun told her, looking herself at the screen and frowning, exactly as the times she showed her the messages and asked for her opinion.

“I know but… He was strange, and I’m worried. Should I write him again? Ask him if it’s still confirmed for Saturday?” She asked her, leaning her head over her shoulder. The fabric of her tailleur was rough under her cheek, but she didn’t mind that much.

“He sounds like an asshole. Write to call it off, we’ll just be losing time.”

“He’s my best friend, and Dorian’s. We’ve been friends since kindergarten. He’s not an asshole, I know when he’s strange and I’m worried for him.”

“He’s an officer in the military, Ash. He invited us, two elves, one a Dalish and the other a mage, to a party full of militaries. Add the fact that lesbianism doesn’t really help. It’s not the invitation of a nice person.”

“Maybe they’re good people. He is. And I’m bi.”

Ydun turned to look at her, a silent, very doubtful question on her sharp face, tattooed in deep crimson. Aisling knew that expression as well as she knew her Vallaslin, she didn’t need to look up to know. She frowned in all answer, scuddling closer on her seat to get closer to her girlfriend, hugging her arm with a sigh.

“You can stay home. I’ll go, check he’s still in one piece and get right back.”

“Sure, what a marvellous idea.” Ydun snorted, very sarcastically, poking at her arm. “You’ll need someone to protect you, I’ll be there with you, doll, of course.”

Aisling didn’t like when Ydun called her doll. She didn’t like when she treated her like a damsel in distress, just because she was emotional. She was a mage, writing her dissertation for her BA in Physics, and listening to her tutor, she will get into any MA program she wanted. She and Dorian just needed to choose a program and a place, and whether to make the leap and leave home. Together, because loneliness was scary and papae Solas confirmed them that they did their best when they worked side by side anyway.

…she wanted to see Cullen, and ask him. When she was scared about whether to apply to Physics or not, or just to find work because she didn’t feel competent enough, just a pale imitation of her brother, it had been Cullen who talked her down her fears and convinced to send the application. He had been right. And she… She missed him. In those three years they had seen each other a handful of times, and always briefly. He had no time to write -Mia, Branson and Rosalie all confirmed that he wasn’t writing much to them either.

She missed Cullen, and she would have seen him on Saturday.

She got her cellphone back and wrote him.

Aisling. [ Hey, stranger! On my way to Denerim in an uncomfortable train. Answer me when you can.All confirmed for Saturday? :) ]

Cullen. (3 hours later) [ Confirmed. ]

Aisling. [ Yay!! Can’t wait! ^O^ I got so much to tell you! Ydun too can’t wait to meet you, finally! Any chance to get to an Ed Sheeran concert? I’d love to be reminded what’s good music in comparison and have a pizza afterwards, honestly. ]

*no reply*

[shall-we-go-far-away]

okay, okay ep. 5 & 6: holy shit that was one hell of a ride wasn't it? (maybe whoever is reading this also saw my panicked posts from wednesday, yes I was losing my mind)

I'll try to do this as structured as possible but I can't promise anything so prepare for it to be just as all over the place as wednesday's episodes.. get ready, buckle up I have a lot of things to say:

first and foremost: FUCK YOU TAEHYUNG!! I was trying to be nice last time giving him a second chance and all because yk, I thought maybe just because he was annoying once, doesn't mean he has to be all the time but fuck was I wrong.. is he genuinely so stupid that he doesn't realize how his words affect jaewon or does he just straight up choose to ignore it?? or is it simply the mixture of both because wtf dude?? this guy is so blinded by his jealousy it's crazy like bro, how about you try and make it less obvious?? and considering how angry and uncomfortable he makes me (and jaewon) I was sooo glad jihyun and aeri were there and so happy to see they quickly picked up on how jaewon reacted and then decided to team up against taehyung (rightfully so)

especially jihyun (my cute little bean) was so attentive the entire time he really took one look at jaewon and immediately recognized something was off.. and because he was watching him so closely his reaction to jaewon slamming his hand on the table came almost naturally

moving on to aeri, I still think she's a bit much but that's probably because I'm introverted as fuck and she's clearly not.. I do really like her and jihyun's dynamic and loved their little class-skipping-shopping-sequence like you go besties!!

back to the junior-senior get together: that cut to jaewon being absolutely wasted was kinda scary and really shows how much he's struggling with everything and that he doesn't know how to properly cope with it.. and this little part of dialogue really stuck with me so once again props to jihyun for this simple yet very deep response

"you're not acting like yourself."

"hey, what is 'acting like myself'?"

"that's up to you."

I just feel like jaewon never heard something like this, he always had to fit into this box that the people around him created for him so someone saying who you are is up to you is complete news to him

harsh cut to jaewon waking up and the flashback with his brother: that shit hurt!! for some reason I expected his brother to be closer to him age wise (not that this would make him dying any less horrible) but when I saw jaewon with this little boy that just shattered me and jaewon just sitting there sobbing and desperately trying to put the camera back together was so painful to watch

skip to the beginning of episode 6: the scene of them in the car was also kinda hard to watch seeing jaewon so out of it like he wasn't even fully there (a quick round of applause for lim jisub who portrays this haunted look very well) apart from that I really liked that even though jaewon didn't answer jihyun's question he didn't let go and kept asking until eventually he gets an answer from jaewon

and now we're at a point where things started to get a little confusing for me:

while watching I felt like something was off, I couldn't pinpoint what it was (most of the time my brain has all the pieces of information but I can't put them together) but the episode felt different and then I saw a post on here (I tried not to read too much because I wanted most of this post to be my own impression) that said we might be seeing everything from jaewon's blurry, medication induced view which is why some things don't seem to add up and I think that's true or at least somewhat close to what was happening

I was actually debating which route to go with because so many possibilities about what was actually happening in ep. 6 came to my mind at first I actually thought jaewon might've overdosed in the car and ep. 6 didn't happen at all but were a hallucination or nightmare (what made me think that was the weirdly bright lighting and everything looking kinda blurry which always was an indicator of a dream or something unreal happening in any sort of media I've ever seen) but I don't think so anymore I would actually go with what I mentioned above and this blurry look comes from jaewon's medication

OOOR they chose this lighting to show how this entire trips feels like a dream because it's only jaewon and jihyun, completely separated from other people and far from their actual lives so of course that feels somewhat dream like

what I'm trying to say is: I don't think the entire episode was fake

I think making it all fake would be a waste of an episode and judging from the rest of the show so far it doesn't really seem like something the creators would do.. I think?? (maybe that's why I want some of the theories here to be true so bad because I don't want this episode to be wasted as a dream or whatever)

I would also agree with others that jihyun is probably fine, maybe a little shaken and scared but not physically hurt.. I think we see the accident happen from jaewon's pov and he's imagining it way worse than it is

nonetheless that shit scared me, how the entire mood switched and went so dark all of a sudden and then jaewon screaming jihyun's name.. I think the worst part were the silent credits and damn, that silence was loud.. let's just say, I cried..

alright, I think that's it.. I kind of lost focus in the end so idk if I actually said everything I wanted to but I think I covered most of it

[galactic-pirates]

Romance Tropes Bracket (Round Two)

You can see my first round post here.

Please check out @purlturtle's second round post. I'm doing this in response to them, as they said I could. Such an interesting topic!

So in the BLUE CORNER

Bodyguard vs Workplace

Second Chances vs. Sibling's Best Friend

Rocking that RED we have

Grumpy/Sunshine vs Just To Get It Out Of Our Systems

Holiday Romance vs. Soulmates

The sun shines down on YELLOW

Mistaken Identity vs Only One Bed

Amnesia vs Secretly a Celeb/Royal

Aaaaaand finally working that GREEN

Fake Dating vs. Friends to Lovers

Sworn Off Love vs. Supernatural (vampires etc.)

Under the cut for this round of picks and rambles!

Bodyguard vs Workplace Workplace is a wide field of possibility - it’s literally any place people work. Bodyguard is just one profession but it could protect someone who works in many different fields. Again a lot of options.

I’m going to go with Bodyguard because Workplace is too wide really. It’s a setting, a backdrop. There is a slight inherent prompt (meeting at work) but Bodyguard is that and a dynamic as well. Plus as I mentioned in the first round I find the Bodyguard trope compelling. I have more novel ideas than time/spoons so I don’t know if I will ever get round to writing my Bodyguard concept series but I hope I do! I have concepts for 3 books at the moment. If only I could write multiple ideas at once. Writing takes ages :/

WINNER: Bodyguard

Second Chances vs Sibling’s Best Friend I was decidedly meh on the Sibling’s Best Friend in round one so this isn’t going to come as any great surprise. It has to be Second Chances. Last round I briefly mentioned by serial - “reunited forced proximity due to workplace divorced ex-wives” and for fun I'm going to tell you the inspiration. So I was watching Ahsoka and I did a literal spit-take because I misheard a line and thought Sabine said "Guess I should have married a good one" and what can I say, inspiration was born. I don't really ship Ahsoka and Sabine but boy once I had seen those ex-vibes I couldn't unsee it.

Anyway! I have another Second Chance in my sci-fi thriller series. That’s sort of reunited via bad guy revenge. They are both slow burn on getting back together because while the love is still there, breaking up caused pain. It’s important not to gloss over that. To communicate, to build something stronger, to not repeat past mistakes - learn and grow basically. I do like the idea that the end doesn’t have to be the end. That love can endure. That people can mess up and work their way back. There’s hope in that.

WINNER: Second Chances

Grumpy/Sunshine vs Just To Get It Out of Our Systems Again no surprise as I wasn’t fond of the ‘Out of our systems’ trope in round one. It had to be Grumpy/Sunshine. I have thought about that a little more though because while I described the type of vibe, I didn’t give any examples. The first one that came to mind was the fandom crossover Rushbelle (Nicholas Rush, SGU and Belle, Once Upon a Time). But I also think it applies to Lamia and Cassandra from Librarians. I think I said before it’s not a vibe I like with all pairings, it’s not something I look for. It’s more like a topping? It’s not the cake. With some pairings it works to add something but it’s not something that compels me on its own. But it wins by default.

WINNER: Grumpy/Sunshine

Holiday Romance vs Soulmates This one is a little more difficult if you stretch the definition of Holiday Romance but otherwise it mostly feels like a sweet meet cute. I do like the Soulmate trope. I explained why in the last round. I never thought I would like this trope and then I wrote it and discovered how interesting it can be.

I think it comes back to that iconic line about “I would find you and choose you in any universe” or the other line about “hope there will always be an us, in every world, in every story”. Because when people fit… this is why there’s a million AUs for ships. We watch the same ship fall in love in different settings, with different tropes - across alternate universes and they still belong. I don’t like the whole “only one person destined for you, not being whole etc. without them” - that’s not what I mean. Maybe I’m talking transcendence I don’t know. I think I’m trying to have it both ways with the soulmates trope but I do like it.

WINNER: Soulmates

Mistaken Identity vs Only One Bed Ooof we have reached a tough one. It kinda doesn’t feel fair that some brackets are super easy and then others I would pick both. Only One Bed is the absolute classic but it can’t just win automatically or it will steamroll the whole thing purely for being iconic. I have a deep appreciation for it. I snicker and go awww every time.

But then Mistaken Identity… I spoke last time of that Sophie Devereaux quote “do you let them love the fake you, or hate the real you” and about masks, the deep need to be loved for who a character truly honestly is - true acceptance basically. This definition is present in basically everything I write. Characters are afraid to be truly seen thinking they will be rejected. I don’t know if I am stretching the Mistaken Identity as a prompt but this is how it speaks to me and so I got to go with it.

WINNER: Mistaken Identity

Amnesia vs Secretly a Celeb/Royal I stretched the definition of Secretly a Celeb/Royal last time. I talked of the idea I have tossed around of some rich guy doing a Clark Kent as nobody expects them to be normal. I do like that. It’s one of the old standbys I pull out when I can’t sleep buuuuut Amnesia is another one.

There’s something about memory, like it’s gone but an impression remains. An echo. Like Deja-vu maybe? Imagine waking up and going “who are you” and getting told “I’m your wife” and going home and seeing photos and mementoes of a life you don’t remember. But when you hold her, there’s something. It feels right in a world where everything feels unfamiliar and wrong. OR alternately another variation of two friends who aren’t together but the one with amnesia doesn’t know anyone, but they know their friend, they think they are lovers or married. How can their friend tell them when they are the only thing in the world they remember? There’s a lot of ways it can go.

WINNER: Amnesia

Fake Dating vs Friends to Lovers This is another hard one. Friends to Lovers is basically everything I write, and Fake Dating is like Only One Bed - an absolute classic. Iconic. Now I ruled against Only One Bed because I said it couldn’t win purely because it was so iconic. I said that a definition of Mistaken Identity could be about masks and that was in everything. The same applies to Friends to Lovers. I guess on that basis Friends has to win. I am just hesitant. I don’t know why Fake Dating just tickles something in my brain. So much mutually pining idiots. This is really difficult I want to pick both.

WINNER: Friends to Lovers

Sworn Off Love vs Supernatural (vampires etc.) In the first round I waxed lyrical basically about Helena swearing off love in Warehouse 13 and then Myka happened. I have such feelings I can't tell you. But then Supernatural ugh! This is another super hard one to choose between because they both have such compelling facets to them.

I suppose Supernatural is broader because the conflicts it evokes are dependant on the situation - of which there are many possibilities. Sworn Off Love is the conflict itself. It sort of speaks to a trauma in the past that the person needs to overcome. Not because the new love/relationship will fix them (I don't like that), but because they are still stuck in the moment of whatever hurt them. It is taking their choices and to have control of their life and happiness they need to process the pain. Whether that's accepting love from this partner, or a future partner, or just being more comfortable in themselves - knowing that they can have a relationship if they want, even if they decide they don't.

Having just gone on I guess I kinda need to pick Sworn Off Love but Supernatural is so compelling /sigh. So hard to choose!

WINNER: Sworn Off Love

I saw @purlturtle didn't ramble for this round but I'm not even a little bit sorry. Maybe eventually I will have less to say but probably not. It's me and story, I can usually think of something haha.

[thewordworrier]

Call Me Babe For The Weekend - A Prologue, Of Sorts?

Original Series Masterpost Word Count: 5.8k.

Do we remember that banner? Do we?

I... Did not think I would come back to this. [And past this point, I don’t think I will!] But! This wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it. So here you go. It’s a little bit later than I wanted - I wanted to post it a year to the day of the last chapter, or a year to the day of the day after the last chapter. But... It is what it is.

I’m also going to add this in to the main masterlist, at the bottom of the chapter list because I don’t want to add it in as a ‘new thing’ when really it’s not. I’m also going to badge it as a ‘Deleted Scene’ - because it is. I’m also not sure that it came out quite as I thought it would but... I’m not totally unhappy with it. Not 100% happy but not unhappy enough to not post it.

A Prologue, Of Sorts aka A Deleted Scene.

“Good morning Shelly sweetheart.” Shelly closed the door of her grandparents’ tailors behind her and smiled brightly at the older woman sitting at the desk at the front of the shop. “Good morning grandmama.” “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you today,” Rosie, her grandmother, hummed as the younger girl joined her behind the desk. “Oh, you know that’s silly, I always end up here,” Shelly hugged her grandmother from behind, resting her chin gently on the older Sketcher’s shoulder, looking over it to see what she was looking at. “What’s on the books for today?” Rosie leant her head against her granddaughter’s and pulled the appointment book out from under a few sheets of paper to let Shelly look over the pages. “Not many actual appointments,” Rosie said quietly. “But we’ve got enough work to be doing anyway, so it’s not a big deal.” Shelly hummed, not sure how to feel about that. “Grandma, business is okay, isn’t it?” “Of course sweetheart,” she patted Shelly’s hands, feeling the girl let her go to stand up straight. “I promise that we’re alright.” She noticed that her granddaughter didn’t look completely convinced. “Now now Little Miss,” she raised an eyebrow at Shelly. “You can go and ask your grandfather to show you the other books if you don’t believe me. Or you can go and see the work in progress rack.” Shelly bit her bottom lip, a little scolded. “No, no it’s alright but… You would tell me if we were in trouble, right?” Rosie sighed very softly and moved to her feet, looking at her granddaughter. “Darling. You don’t need to worry about these matters. We’re alright.” “But if you weren’t -” She stopped Shelly mid sentence by cupping her hands around Shelly’s cheeks. “Sweetheart. We’re good. You do not need to worry about us. Okay?” Shelly nodded once. “I’ll try not to worry, but you know I can’t help it.” “Hm, yes, you are very much your mother’s daughter.” The younger girl didn’t have a chance to say anything to that because her grandfather appeared from one of the rooms at the back of the shop, in the middle of a conversation on the phone. “Of course, that shouldn’t be a problem, let me just double check the books -” At these words, Rosie handed her husband the appointment book, getting a smile from him in response. Alexander flicked through a few pages, looking back at the page for that day before speaking again. “Oh no, absolutely. We can fit you in whenever you’d like.” Shelly glanced over at her grandmother and mouthed a ‘what’s going on?’ Rosie shook her head in a ‘I’m not sure’ response and they both turned back to the Sketcher patriarch. “Today is absolutely fine,” Alexander said into the phone. “We can move a few things around for you, sure thing - what time were you thinking?” “What’s he going on about?” Shelly almost whispered into her grandmother’s ear. “He’s making it seem like we’re a little busier than we are,” she replied just as quietly. “Appointment wise anyway. And he’s making it seem like we’re doing this client a big favour.” “Who is it?” “I’m not completely sure, but I have a hunch.” They both turned to Alexander as he spoke again. “Of course that’s not a problem.” Roise raised her eyebrows, which Shelly noticed. She frowned at her grandmother, asking questions without words. The older woman shook her head slightly before nodding towards Alexander as if to say; “just wait a second.” “My pleasure Mr. Way, we’ll see you later.” Both women waited until the patriarch had hung up the phone before Rosie cleared her throat. “Mr. Way?” Alexander nodded. “He’s coming in today?” Rosie continued, getting another nod. “What for?” “The usual; it’s not urgent and he even said so,” Alexander scribbled in the appointment book for a moment. “But as you heard, I’ve said that we can see him today.” His wife hummed. “Well, he is a well paying client, so that makes sense.” Shelly blinked. “Um, who?” “Oh, hey Sea-Shell,” Alexander straightened up and moved to hug his granddaughter in greeting, smiling when she hugged him back quite tightly. “I didn’t think you were due in today?” “Mm, no I wasn’t, but I decided to anyway.” He held her, gently at arms’ length, giving her A Look. “Shelly…” Shelly blinked at him. “Yes?” “If you’re not supposed to be in, then you’re not supposed to be in. We give you the time off for a reason.” Rosie laughed as their granddaughter grinned up at her husband - a big, bright cheesy grin. “But grandpapa, I like being here, I like helping.” Alexander shook his head gently before leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “We love you for your helpfulness, but you really should take the time off.” “I know, I know, but I really don’t mind.” “Hmm…” She smiled up at him again. “Alright, you can stay for the day. You can come and help me sort the fitting room out for Mr. Way and when he gets here, we’ll see if he minds you shadowing.” Shelly blinked rapidly. “Okay, I can do that.” “I’ll let you know as soon as he gets here,” Rosie leant up to kiss her husband’s cheek. “Thank you, love,” he turned to Shelly. “Come on then, you little menace.” Shelly giggled and Rosie watched Shelly follow Alexander into one of the other rooms. She shook her head ever so slightly and started tidying the front desk. “Right,” Alexander took Shelly to one of the back fitting rooms; the larger of the two and they set about tidying it - not that it was untidy to begin with. “Obviously I’m going to get the client’s permission first, but I think this might be a good time for you to shadow me a little more closely than normal.” “Is this… Mr. Way?” Shelly glanced at her grandfather who nodded. “Is he special or something?” “Mr. Way is…” Alexander paused and watched his granddaughter check the table in the room - making sure it had the required tools they would normally need for altering garments, for example. “Well, there’s no other way to say it. He’s very rich. He actually buys quite a bit from us.” Shelly tilted her head, counting the table supplies but still listening. “He’s incredibly complimentary too,” he continued. “He seems to think that traditional tailoring is a lost art.” “Hmm,” Shelly muttered. “How long has he been coming here?” “Months, though I couldn’t say for certain how many,” Alexander beckoned the younger girl to follow him into the material room. “Your grandmother would be able to tell you for certain.” “How come I haven’t seen or heard of him before?” She started helping her grandfather sort out some samples of the newest fabrics. “Coincidence? He normally ends up coming in when you’re scheduled to be off.” “I guess I’m glad I stopped in today then,” Shelly watched her grandfather triple checking a measurement. “And doubly glad that I dressed for work and not just a visit.” He smiled up at her. “I’m very glad about that second one. He is a high tier client and impressions are important.” “Do you think he’d be the type to pull back his business if I was here in jeans?” “Hmn. I’m not sure. But truthfully, I wouldn’t want to risk it. I think he’s bringing in more business - we had someone call the other day who mentioned him,” he handed the new samples to her and watched her look over them. “So it makes sense to pretend to move schedules around, to be even more impeccably dressed than normal and to be on the most perfect of behaviours?” Shelly looked from the samples to her grandfather. “These are really nice, I really like them.” “Do you think they’ll be difficult to work with?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” Alexander nodded. “But yes, doing those things does make sense when it comes to Mr. Way, you’re very right.” Shelly hesitated for a moment, looking thoughtful as she nibbled her bottom lip. “Sea-Shell,” Alexander said quietly. “Don’t do that.” Shelly grinned a little at him. “Sorry grandpapa, I guess I'm a little nervous.” He frowned at her in question and she swallowed, glancing down at the fabric in her hands. “I’m worried that I’m going to mess up, that I’m going to ruin this for you somehow.” Alexander gently took the fabric samples from her and hugged her. “Don’t worry sweetheart. You’ve got no reason to worry.” Shelly huffed softly but hugged him back tightly. “I hope you’re right.” He drew back and gently held her by her arms. “Ashely.” Her eyes widened at the use of her full name - it wasn’t something she was really fond of, especially not coming from her grandparents. But she knew why he was using it and she looked a little guilty. “Don’t talk like that. You’ve never let me down before, I don’t see you starting now.” Shelly hugged him again, but tighter this time. “I’ll do my best.” “I know you will darling. You always do and your grandmother and I are always so proud of you.” She swallowed a little and moved to pick up the fabric samples again, taking a step back. “Do I need to put these in the fitting room?” “Yes, please. While you do that, I’ll see if I can find his file.” Shelly nodded and left the fabric room while her grandfather went to find the client’s file. She took a moment to make sure that the room was definitely tidy, stocked and spotless before heading to find him. Meanwhile, in the front of the store, Rosie heard the bell above the door chime softly and looked up from her papers on the desk. “Well, good day Mr. Way.” The well dressed, younger man closed the door behind him and nodded politely to the woman. “Hello ma’am.” Rosie tutted gently. “Now now, I’ve told you that you don’t need to call me that.” “It’s respectful ma’am,” he smiled a little more. “How are you? How’s your day been?” “Very pleasant, actually, thank you,” she hummed a little. “How about yours?” “Yeah, pretty decent, thank you.” Rosie was about to say something else but she heard the voices of her husband and her granddaughter moving closer to her from where they’d been at the back of the shop. She could hear the two in conversation but she wasn’t really paying too much attention to the words as she was actually more interested in the reaction of the other man. She glanced over at him, who looked ever so slightly confused - he had a slight frown on his face. This reminded Rosie that he hadn’t been present in the shop at the same time as her granddaughter. The pair entered the ‘reception’ area of the store and Alexander looked up. “Ah, Mr. Way, nice to see you,” he crossed the room in a few strides and shook the younger man’s hand. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long.” “Oh no, not long at all,” he shook the tailor’s hand warmly; because he was polite and actually, he respected this man. “I’ve pretty much only just arrived.” “I’m glad. Can we get you anything?” “No, thank you, I’m good.” Alexander nodded and stepped back, hearing Shelly clear her throat almost silently - he knew that she wasn’t doing it to draw attention to herself; she had other things she did to do that. “Ah, yes. Mr. Way, please let me introduce to you my granddaughter, Ashely.” Shelly shot her grandfather A Look at the use of her full name before she stepped forward to shake his hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said sweetly. “Likewise,” he said, shaking her hand. Her handshake was pretty firm actually, he noted, despite the softness of her hands. Rosie watched this with interest. She recognised the look on her granddaughter’s face as one of curiosity. Which is something she understood - Mr. Way was a very… Striking looking young man. Taller than both herself and her granddaughter (but then again, that wasn’t hard - every female in their family was short), an almost classical facial structure, pale skin paired with dark eyes… And the most unusual thing about him was the short, platinum (almost-white) blond hair. Clearly not his natural colour and certainly an… Interesting choice. The look on his face, as he looked at her granddaughter however, she couldn’t really read. She hoped that there was at least a shred of… Interest, there. Maybe. But he was definitely looking at her - Rosie might even say that he might be purposely looking at her. She wasn’t surprised in the slightest, her granddaughter was a very pretty young thing, and she sometimes garnered a lot of looks and attention because of that. Not that Shelly agreed with this, but Rosie knew, Rosie saw it. Not that she was trying to pair them up or anything of the sort - hell, she didn’t think Shelly would be completely impressed with him. She wasn’t always with the richer types - most of the time she thought that they could be a bit… Snobby (and truth be told, she was normally right - Rosie was very proud of how observant her granddaughter could be. But the girl would always more than happily admit if she was wrong. And Rosie was proud of her for that too.) “If you’re amenable to it, I would like her to shadow me today,” Alexander said, a tiny drop of nervousness in his voice. Mr. Way blinked rapidly for a few seconds. “That… That shouldn’t be an issue. That’s fine.” Alexander relaxed a little bit. “Thank you, we appreciate that. Would you like to get started?” “Sure thing.” “Would you like me to take your coat first, my dear?” Rosie asked him. “Oh, that’s kind of you.” He gently shrugged off his jacket and handed it to the older woman, smiling a tiny bit when she took it from him ever so gently before placing it on a hanger and then on the clothing rack by the door. He noticed that she purposely kept it away from the few other items on that rack. She did that every time he came here, and really, it was appreciated. Then again, look at where he was. They obviously knew the benefit of looking after well made clothing. Of course they did. The three headed to the fitting room that Alexander and Shelly had been tidying, where Alexander closed the door behind them and he started to measure Mr. Way again, Shelly taking down the numbers. She stayed quiet for the most part, sometimes getting her grandfather to repeat numbers, but otherwise just listening and observing. Just before they were going to start re-measuring for new shirts, Alexander’s phone started ringing. “I am so sorry Mr. Way, do you mind if I take this?” “Not at all, go ahead.” Alexander nodded gratefully and stepped out of the room, leaving his granddaughter alone with the man. Shelly had watched him leave before she cleared her throat softly and looked back down at the information sheet on her clipboard. “I haven’t seen you here before.” Shelly glanced up to see the man fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt as he looked at her. She tilted her head ever so slightly as she noticed that he was actually fiddling with his cufflinks. And those things looked fancy and expensive. She hummed for a moment as she considered her reply. “I just don’t think my schedule has ever coincided with one of your…” She paused and hesitated for a moment. “With one of your appointments, before. But I’ve been working with my grandparents for years.” He nodded. “Are you an apprentice, or do you work for them because they’re family?” “A little of both, I think,” she tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “I know how to do what they do, and I have my own, ah, specialty here? And I work here because I want to. Plus, I enjoy it.” “So, could you do what your grandfather does if you needed to?” Shelly thought about this, looking up at him instead of down at her sheet of numbers. “I think so, yes. Maybe not with his confidence, at least not at first, but I’m sure with some time I’d get there.” He nodded politely, not entirely sure why he was making conversation, but not totally hating it. He was about to enquire after her speciality when Alexander returned. “I’m sorry about that, suppliers, you know? So, where were we?” “A few more numbers and then the fabric choices, I think grandpapa,” Shelly said softly. “Ah, right, yes.” Much to Alexander’s delight - Shelly remained quiet and respectful towards Mr. Way. She was friendly and… Soft would be the right word, when she was spoken to. She watched her tone, was pleasant and complimentary when she could add something like that into the conversation; she didn’t do it unnecessarily. He always thought his granddaughter was good with people, good with the clients like that. She was very good at massaging their egos when it was needed; she had a very pleasing ‘customer service’ voice. He was, actually, grateful that apart from maybe a singular, raised eyebrow, she kept her opinions on the fabric choices to herself. He knew that she wasn’t best fond of at least one of the choices - she just thought it was a little… Ugly really, and he knew because she’d told him when they’d gotten a delivery of the fabric in question;

“The customer is always right, Shell,” Alexander had said to her.

“In a matter of taste,” she’d rolled her eyes playfully. “They have every right to buy the hat, or indeed fabric, I think is ugly, I know, I know.”

“Exactly.”

“But wouldn’t they want to know that it looks bad?”

Alexander had thought about this. “I don’t think the fabric will look bad on everyone, but there are better ways to go about telling them than telling them outright.”

She sighed. “I guess? But you know that if I had my way, we wouldn’t even have that fabric.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, hugging her gently. “I know dear, I know.”

She’d stood quietly, taking a few notes as her grandfather and Mr. Way had been talking about some styles or details that he’d wanted, but truthfully, she hadn’t been completely listening. Maybe she should’ve paid a little more attention to the conversation as a whole, but her brain was good at tuning in for the things she would need to know. She was pretty good at making it look like she was being fully attentive when she was only being partially attentive. That was a skill that she’d learnt and it was very useful with some of their clients. Once the final measurements and style discussions were over, Shelly followed behind the two men as Alexander showed Mr. Way to the door. She watched from a slight distance as the men shook hands, her grandfather promising to keep Mr. Way updated. She was slightly amused when her grandmother almost flirted with the younger man and her eyebrows rose when he took Rosie’s hand and kissed the back of it. Rosie giggled. “Not in front of my husband, good sir.” Mr. Way had flashed her a smile before looking over to Shelly. “It was nice to meet you.” Shelly blinked rapidly and straightened her spine before smiling at him. “Pleasure’s all mine.” He nodded politely, finished putting his coat on and said final goodbyes to her grandparents, before he left. Once the door had closed behind him, Shelly watched him walk past the front window; she could see that he had his hands in his pockets and he sort of kept his head down as he walked. That was… Interesting to her, but she didn’t know why. Rosie had turned to look at her granddaughter as soon as Mr. Way had left the shop, so she had seen her watch him go past the window, and she had seen the expression on Shelly’s face. “Little Miss, you look like you have something to say.” Shelly blinked rapidly, stopped leaning against the wall and straightened up. She huffed out a sigh. “Well. He’s not what I expected.” “Oh?” Rosie glanced at her husband as he went to write something down in one of the books on the front desk. “He’s younger than I thought he’d be,” Shelly said. “But that’s about it. He still seems as much of a…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Stuffed shirt as our other higher clients do.” Rosie couldn’t help it, she let out a soft snort just as Alexander full-named his granddaughter, causing the girl to wince. “Sorry,” she mumbled, tugging on the sleeves of her blouse a little. “But it’s true!” “Shelly…” Rosie shook her head slightly. “Well, at least you were quiet and polite when he was around,” Alexander rubbed a hand over his face. “I wouldn’t dream of being anything less,” Shelly shrugged a little. “For the business and all of that.” “Now now sweetheart,” Rosie tutted at her granddaughter. “I don’t think you should judge him so harshly. Or so quickly.” Shelly raised an eyebrow at her grandmother. “And why do you say that?” Rosie raised an eyebrow in response to Shelly. “Well, a couple of reasons, really. First, because it’s just polite to be open and not overly judgemental.” “Hmmm,” Shelly tucked some hair behind her ear and looked down at her shoes. “Secondly,” Rosie crossed the room and lifted Shelly’s chin. “He’s been coming here for a few months; he’s really not that bad.” “He’s very polite with your grandmother,” Alexander added quietly. Rosie cupped Shelly’s cheeks in her hands and gently squeezed them. “Give. The. Boy. A. Chance.” “It will do you some good to be a little more open Sea-Shell.” Shelly glanced over at her grandfather, her grandmother’s hands now resting on her shoulders. “If you’re not, it’s going to start showing in your words and in your attitude,” he continued. “What he’s trying to say, sweetheart,” Rosie interrupted gently. “Is that you need to watch yourself, just a bit. Please.” She sighed very softly. “Okay. I will try. And I’ll try to not be so judgy.” “We’re not saying that you have to be best buddies or anything,” Rosie said with a small nod. “But, be a little bit nice, okay? Be the soft, sweet and gentle young lady that I know you are. You’ve only met him once.” “I’ve already said that I’ll try,” Shelly said. “But, I know men of his age, of his type.” Alexander sighed. “Ashely.” “I’ll try, grandpapa, I will! I really will!” Rosie gently squeezed Shelly’s shoulders and let her go, watching her granddaughter follow her husband to the fabric room. “Shelly,” Alexander said softly. “He’s brought in a lot of money in the short amount of time he’s been a customer with us. And you might need to work with him without me at some point. So please… Just be nice.” “I will!” Shelly almost pouted at her grandfather. “You know I will be - I’m even really nice to those one or two who are a little bit creepy with me.” “And as soon as they do something within my earshot Shell, I’ll do something about it, you know I will, and it’s not that I don’t believe you, but I need to see or hear it myself.” “I know grandpa, I know.” Alexander watched her as she looked over the notes she’d made for Mr. Way’s order, comparing the new numbers to the old ones before she went to find the right pattern. He stayed in the doorway to the fabric room, just watching her as she pottered around, starting to gather everything they’d need. “I’m not going to do anything to cause him to stop being a customer grandpa,” she said quietly, going through fabrics. “I know, sweetheart. You do good; not only as a granddaughter, as an employee and as a human. We’re very proud of you and of the person, the woman you’ve become.” Shelly hummed softly, going a little bit pink. “Are you sure that you want to stay helping us?” He moved closer to check over everything that she’d gathered. “You know you don’t have to, you know.” “Grandpa,” Shelly looked up at him. “I love working here. I do it because I want to, because I enjoy it. I don’t feel like I have to.” Alexander studied her for what felt like a long time, but might have only been two minutes at the most. He sighed softly. “We don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here, you know?” “I don’t feel that,” Shelly replied, not looking up from the sheets she was looking at. “I could never feel that. You and grandma are important to me, this place is important to me. I enjoy being a part of this.” “As long as you’re sure, Shelly.” “I am.” “Alright,” Alexander hummed for a moment. “Right, are you going to help me with this?” Over the next few months, Shelly was true to her word. That is, she was nice to Mr. Way - who’s first name she soon learnt was Gerard - whenever she was around during his appointments. Those two things - her shift times and his appointment times, soon started to overlap, whereas they hadn’t before. (It took her an embarrassing amount of time to figure that out, actually.) She was especially nice when her grandfather left her alone with the man, whether that was to help with measurements or so she could help with adjustments - she found it easier to do all the fabric tucking and all the pinning in place because her fingers were a little more nimble than her grandfather’s. His precision regarding measuring and cutting was unmatched though - he could eyeball measurements and 99.9% of the time get them spot on. Of course, he would always measure things out properly to be sure, but still. Shelly was pretty good, but not that good. She was certain that her grandfather had some kind of magic when it came to this stuff. The same went for her grandmother - that woman hardly ever seemed to poke herself with the pins. Shelly knew, because she watched, so she couldn’t even say that it was because her grandmother was so used to everything that she had thicker skin on her fingers. She probably did, but it wasn’t that. And at least, if her grandmother did poke herself, she never even muttered anything about it. Unlike Shelly, who ended up pricking herself a little during one such appointment with Gerard - Mr. Way. She hissed very slightly and muttered to herself under her breath. “Are you... Alright?” “Mm hm,” Shelly stuck the tip of her finger in her mouth for a second before wiping it on her skirt. “Just stabbed myself with a pin, that’s all. You don’t need to worry yourself. I’m always more likely to stab myself than our clients. You’re pretty safe.” “Just ‘pretty’ safe?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to use the mirror to look at the girl pinning and tucking fabric at his back. “Well, I’ve been doing this a fairly long time, for my age, and I haven’t hurt anyone other than myself yet. I mean,” she paused to concentrate for a moment. “I’m not going to guarantee that you’re one hundred percent safe, that would be stupid.” “I suppose nothing is guaranteed to that certainty in the world,” he replied. “Except maybe death and taxes,” Shelly muttered. He snorted very slightly, clearly a little amused by this. “Hm! Yes, except maybe those.” She heard his amused sounding snort and couldn’t help but smile. That was progress, kinda. They had… Well, they weren’t conversations exactly, more like small exchanges of dialogue when they worked together; neither of them particularly attempted to prolong or initiate a conversation, but they did still speak to each other when the other said something, or when Shelly pricked her fingers, apparently. Truthfully, she didn’t mind it. She enjoyed working quietly - some of their other clients just… Spoke too much and sometimes it meant that she couldn’t concentrate. This one spoke to her grandfather more than her, and that meant that she could listen in while still working. She had noticed that she seemed to be soloing Gerard’s appointments more and more recently, which was an… Interesting development? Although she hoped that this wouldn’t be a permanent thing, as the man actually made her a little nervous. Not that she had given the reason why much thought - she tried not to give him much thought outside of work, to be completely honest. “Right,” she said quietly, taking a step back from him. “How are those adjustments?” Shelly decided not to confront her grandfather about the fact that she felt like he was leaving her to solo Mr. Way’s appointments more. For now at least. She decided to wait and see; to see if it continued or if the last few had been a coincidence, because knowing her luck, she’d confront her grandfather and it would turn out to just be a fluke or something. And then she’d feel bad. So she decided to just wait. She waited for a long time, and due to work commitments, she pretty much forgot about wanting to say anything. Some of these work commitments included more of Mr. Way’s appointments. Although less of these appointments involved Shelly working with Mr. Way on her own, which is another reason why asking her grandfather about the… Coincidences slipped her mind. She did, however, get a few chances to talk to the man a bit more; nothing too deep, or too soul-defining, but light conversations happened and… They were almost nice. They certainly weren’t like some of the things she had to endure with some other clients. He was very polite, maybe overly so, in comparison. It was after one such appointment that Shelly found herself being… Not quite cornered, but approached by her grandmother. She was in the little kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil when the other woman appeared in the doorway. Shelly smiled and immediately pulled out another mug to make her grandmother a drink as well. “Thank you darling,” Rosie said softly when Shelly handed her the mug. “Come and sit in the office with me? Your grandfather’s up front for a little bit.” Shelly nodded and followed behind her grandmother to the main office, both women sitting in the “visitor’s chairs” and putting their mugs on the desk next to them. “Okay,” Rosie settled comfortably. “How have you been finding working with Mr. Way?” Shelly thought about it, sipping her tea. “Quiet. He’s quiet. Kinda respectful, like, he doesn’t make the same sort of comments that some others do.” Rosie sighed, and shook her head gently. “Are you sure you’re alright with that?” “Eh, they’re just words, I can get over it.” The older woman looked at her granddaughter over her mug. “Ashely.” She winced. “I mean it! I’ll do something if it gets too bad, and I’ll definitely do something if they start getting physical, I promise - but until then, I don’t really want to rock the boat and risk losing them as clients.” “You know that your health, safety and well being are more important than the business? To both myself and your grandfather, right?” Rosie asked, leaning forward to put her hand on Shelly’s knee. “I know grandma, I know,” Shelly placed her hand over Rosie’s and squeezed gently. “I promise I’ll speak up if it gets too bad, or if I feel like I’ve had enough.” Rosie studied her granddaughter for a few minutes before nodding, deciding that she believed the younger girl. “Alright sweetheart.” Shelly just smiled, maybe a little relieved. It wasn’t that she was lying, because she wasn’t - she honestly would let them know if something was really getting that bad. “Now, back to Mr. Way.” “What about him?” Shelly rolled her eyes a little bit, playfully. “Working with him is just quiet?” Rosie sipped her drink. “Mm, well, yeah. He doesn’t talk much, or at least, when he does talk it’s nothing…” Shelly paused to think about it. “It’s not about anything I need to worry about concentrating on, really. It’s nothing deep and meaningful, but there’s bits of interest there.” “The fact that he’s having little conversations with you is a good thing. But he’s being nice to you, right?” Shelly nodded. “He’s not the same with me as he is with you.” Rosie chuckled. “He's very complimentary towards me.” “I’ve noticed! I like that though, I like that he doesn’t seem to talk down to you or anything, but he’s still pleasant and nice. And respectful!” Rosie nodded. “Keep talking to him Shell. He’s warming up to you, I think.” Shelly tutted and shook her head before she sipped her tea some more, not noticing the look her grandmother was giving her - which was paired with a raised eyebrow. “And what was that Little Miss?” Rosie tilted her head. “That noise and expression?” “I just… I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I still don’t like his type, because I do know his type. I’m grateful he’s so quiet, it means I can get my work regarding him done and get out as soon as possible to work on whatever’s next.” “Ashely,” Rosie watched her wince again - she really didn’t like being full-named like that. “You shouldn’t be judgemental.” “He hasn’t exactly proved me completely wrong though grandma,” she tried to argue. “I mean, yeah, he’s not as bad as he could be, and he’s not as bad as I thought but…” Shelly paused and shrugged. “There’s still time.” “Little Miss…” “Just because he’s not as bad to me… Doesn’t mean he’s a good person though,” the blonde shrugged gently. “Miss… Has he been bad to you?” Shelly shrunk back in her seat and shook her head. “No, not exactly.” “Shelly…” “Fine, not at all.” Rosie nodded. “That’s what I thought. You need to take a step back from those thoughts, you know.” “I know,” Shelly sighed deeply and adjusted her position in her chair. “I know. And I’m trying.” “You’re doing alright with not letting that seep through to how you talk to him, or how you are around him though.” Rosie nodded. “That’s good.” “Mm.“ Shelly grinned at her grandmother, both women standing to take their mugs to the kitchen. “I will admit one thing though.” Rosie raised an eyebrow in question. “And what is that?” “Well,” Shelly nibbled her bottom lip. “He’s not awful to look at, is he?”