#( i'll properly post her info at some point )

[knightinsourarmor]

Arima Kana - SNK Verse DRAFT

Ai generated art

Kana's born in Wall Maria. Her mother was from Wall Sina, and her father from Wall Maria, and a cadet in the Training Corps by the time Kana's parents met, fell in love and got married. Kana's father didn't manage to enlist in the Military Police for their family to move together in Wall Sina, and Kana's mother, after marrying someone from Wall Maria, she lost her citizenship for Wall Sina. Kana's born a short while after, being an energetic loving child, her mother tries to raise like the aristocrat she was.

When Wall Maria falls, Kana and her mother immigrate to Wall Rose while Kana's father, a soldier in the Garrison, still fights in Wall Maria. A few days later, they tell them Kana's father heroically fought and died while protecting the Walls. Kana's mother, after the death of her husband is allowed to move back to Wall Sina, but Kana isn't, due to being born elsewhere. The years pass by, and Kana feels her mother blaming her for being stuck in Wall Rose when she could have gone back to Wall Sina if she was on her own.

When Kana comes of age, she enlists in the Training Corps, with the promise to score at the top 10 and gain citizenship for Wall Sina, so she and her mother can live together in the town Kana's mother comes from. Her mother moves back to Wall Sina the moment Kana enlists, and for years she doesn't contact Kana.

Kana works hard, she tries her best, she becomes an excellent soldier, but she still doesn't manage to score at the top 10 in the Training Corps. Her opportunity to move with her mother is gone forever. Screaming, crying and begging to be given another chance, she ends up enlisting in the Survey Corps. If she can't be with her mother, she could at least make her proud by becoming a hero for humanity. Her cause is at first selfish. She had to do everything within her power to get her mother's attention. She had no motive to serve humanity, but make herself known, like Captain Levi, and maybe one day, earn honorary citizenship for Wall Sina.

But the battlefield is merciless and those who can't work well with others don't survive. Watching people die before her, because of her, because of her arrogance, broke Kana beyond repair. Losing comrades at the expense of her life, watching others being ready to sacrifice their life for her, made her realize what was worth giving her life for. With her confidence shattered, expedition after expedition, she tries to make herself useful, lead when needed of her to lead and follow those she deems to have real power.

[giveafike]

Hi can you write Ben Shelton x fem reader where reader is also a pro player and her and Ben are like close friends and team up to play mixed doubles in like the us open and it's kinda like friends to lovers and they being all flirty on court and eventually admit feelings to each other?

TLDR: STORY! Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton friends to lovers. Sort of took them flirty on and off court. Tried to build it up. Mention of Bryan Shelton and Tommy Paul cameo, thanks for stopping by, kings.

Word count + info: 17.6k! SUPER LONG STORYTIME w dialogue! (over an hour's worth of reading, ouu you're well fed tonight)

Character Inspo: Just a sweet girl, like "girl-next-door" girl. Listened to "After the First Kiss" - Faye Webster writing this (cried on first listen, enjoy the link), if that helps you envision sweet, cute, pure vibes. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW - no warnings - slight mention of cheating and gaslighting.

Azzie Notes ✚: Hi my sweet munchkins! I'm so sorry anon, this took so long to come out but life got busy + then tumblr had this unavailable for me when I queued to post which tbh was a miracle bc I was rlly unsure while writing this, and I took my own time to reread and rework it, but idk guess I have writer's block, sorta? It doesn't feel like my best work... be brutally honest w me in ur feedback when u finish reading.

And then also there's a part that was just v vulnerable for me to write, but I couldn't really imagine the scene playing out any differently. Essentially, Y/N's dialogue about her ex - that's my lived experience...erm, so I was just tinkering of ways to rewrite it but I just couldn't think of anything else to fill it with.

Anywho, boy do I have a lotta requests coming up! Be patients w me pls! Also anon, "d" you are a genius, I'm so excited to write ur prompt hehehehe, but sorry if it takes some time :(. I got a Holiday surprise coming up, I'll lyk by the end of the month what that is, but OOOH, SFW Shelton nation, prepare urselves! How are we doing otherwise? Let me know! Are you taking good care of your health in these cold months + wrapping up? Make sure to get your vitamins in! Also, is my tumblr ugly? Should I make a colour theme and redo my masterlist properly? Help?

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Beyond the Baseline - B.T.S

The relationship between you and Ben Shelton was like watching day and night play tennis. Seriously, how could you be friends? What did you even have in common? What would you even talk about?

You, polished, textbook perfect, poised. A steady player who never lets emotions show on the court. Confident but never loud about it. After a win, you’d offer a graceful nod to the crowd, maybe a modest fist pump, but never more. Your game was a masterclass in precision in every shot calculated, every movement on and off court methodical. Fans admired how you dismantled opponents with strategy and patience, and your flawless form made it look effortless. Off the court, you were polite and kindred, smiling, making everyone feel at ease without even trying.

You were the embodiment of calm, pristine tennis. If anyone wanted an example of “playing by the book,” they’d point to you.

And then there was Ben Shelton.

Ben, who was your complete opposite. Loud, unpredictable, made waves and was unapologetic, and yet, utterly captivating. His game thrived on power and chaos, booming serves, fast sprinting bursts across the court, and reckless dives to the net, every point celebrated with fist pumps and wild energy. He lived for those moments that made crowds roar, he basked and riled the stands. When you calmly shake hands with your opponents, Ben chats effortlessly at the net, teasing, joking, and slapping his opponent’s back with that infectious grin. Impossible to dislike, even when he was cocky. Off the court, he was just as loud, just as alive when socialising. If you were a quiet, steady river with your course set, Ben was a wildfire, impossible to contain or predict.

Yet, somehow, despite your differences, you clicked.

It all started that first year on tour at a crossover event where the tours shared a venue. After a long day of matches, you found yourself in the players' lounge, neatly perched in a plush chair, legs crossed, posture upright and as perfect as ever. You still had that composed, in-control air about you, ready to handle anything gracefully.

Then, in strolled Ben Shelton.

He collapsed into the chair across from you, manspreading like it was his personal throne, slouching so far down it was a wonder he didn’t slide onto the floor.

He glanced at you with a lazy grin, his curls messy and unruly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y'always sit like you’re posing for the cover of Tennis Monthly?” he asked, amusement laced with that accent of his, no intention of introductions or small talk.

You blinked, taken aback for a few seconds. “I-...what?”

“Yeah,” he continued, sitting up a bit as he waved a hand at your upright posture. “We’re off the court. Y'know, you can relax, right?”

You stared, completely thrown off by his audacity. Who starts a conversation like that? And how do you even reply to that? You didn’t even know him well, yet here he was already challenging you. Your lips broke into an awkward, tight line as your mouth was still agape, trying to find words to respond - not that you needed to, it seemed like Ben had more to tease you about, clearly enjoying your confusion with a wider, gummy smile.

“Don’t tell me you play tennis like this too, all tight 'n rigid. That's so boring.”

It took a moment, but when you finally brought your eyes up to his, you burst out laughing. His nerve! “You did not just say that,” you managed between giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. “My tennis form? Really? You want to talk about form and play?”

He shrugged, not even a little apologetic, enjoying the riffing as his feet rested against the coffee table filling the gap between you two. “Just sayin' loosen up. This isn’t a press conference. I mean, d'you even know how to slouch?”

You shot him a playful, mock-serious look, tucking a strand behind your ear as you leaned forward, your arms resting on your folded legs. “I can slouch.”

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, folding his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him in a challenge. Slowly, way more dramatically than necessary, you leaned back in your chair, gently scooting down an inch on the chair, still keeping your legs crossed but allowing just enough of a slouch to break your normally perfect posture. You looked more uncomfortable than anything, your back now curved, while every other inch of your body remained proper.

Ben snorted, shaking his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Wowwww,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “Look at you. A real rebel huh?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing yourself back up to sit properly, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not trying to impress you, you know.”

“Oh?” he cocked his head to the side like a puppy, his grin turning into something softer. “Too late. You already have.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. There was something about the way he said it, teasing, but with an undertone that made butterflies dance in your stomach and your skin buzz. You found yourself opening your mouth to respond, but just like the other attempts, nothing came out. You just stared at him, feeling completely disarmed by his effortless charm. He didn’t push, just grinned and waited, like he was used to leaving people speechless.

How much confidence could a guy have, and how could he play it off so casually that you don't even mind it?

And in that moment, there was no awkward silence, no need for formalities. Just easy, unexpected banter that flowed naturally and lingered in your mind for longer than you'd like to admit. It wasn’t what you’d expected from someone like Ben, but somehow, it felt right. He opened a side of you within a few conversations, a side that took years of coaxing from some of your closest friends. You couldn't even explain it, for everything you both were and were not, somehow ying and yang, a mountain and a streaming river, you were opposites and yet fit together like a landscape. He’d broken through your perfectly composed exterior, making you laugh and talk without even trying, and for some reason, you didn’t mind at all.

And now here you are, present day, strolling through an Australian mall at midday, looking the ever-polar opposites.

You strode in your knitted cardigan top and straight-leg pants while Ben towered over in a casual t-shirt and his signature stupidly short black shorts. Your arm was casually linked with Ben’s, your steps in sync like this was second nature. It wasn’t unusual for you two to walk like this; in fact, it would be strange if you didn’t. Over time as you both got to know each other, it had started as a joke but became a habit, something along the lines of Ben not wanting you to get "swept away by the crowds". You shared this easy closeness, the kind that people would easily mistake for a couple, but it was just the way you were.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, realising he was watching you, that knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His finger was pointing at a poster right beside a warm small shop.

“Didn’t you mention that necklace before on call a while ago? Wanna go in and have a look?”

You shook your head, brushing it off. “Oh, no, I was just-”

Before you could finish, he was already steering you toward the small store, his hand warm on your shoulder. “C’mon, just looking, right? Besides, you need to get somethin' while we're here. Not like you can't afford it.” He flashed you a wink that made your stomach flip.

The two of you stepped into the warm-lit shop, drawing a few amused glances from the few other customers and the shop assistant. It only really occurred just odd you two looked, Ben in his usual casual attire, slouched with his hands in his pockets, striding while examining the glass displays and you, neat and polished, hands folded and shy.

Ben leaned close, glancing over the cases as if he actually knew what he was looking at. “So you’re gonna match with me and get one of those silver chains, right?” He tugged at his thick metal chain with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, Ben, because that would look so ‘me,’ right?”

He snorted. “What, scared of a little edge? Imagine the next headline: ‘Good Girl Gone Bad’ ”

“Or,” you retorted, arching a brow, “it could just read ‘WTA Pro Loses It With a Clear Cry for Help.’”

He chuckled, his laugh low and genuinely amused. But then his expression softened as he caught sight of the delicate rose-gold necklace you’d been admiring. “Alright, alright. Let’s see the one you’re actually into.”

You glanced at him, surprised he remembered the specific piece. And the next thing you knew, he had the case brought out by the sales assistant. The delicate rose gold chain necklace with its beautifully intricate pendant sat in front of you. It wasn't long before the cool metal met your fingers as you gently hauled it out from its bed and into your hands, your breath hitching as you studied it dozens of times, trying to engrave it into your memory. Before you could think twice, you broke your trance and handed it to him.

“Help me put it on?”

Ben’s brows shot up, but he didn’t hesitate. “Turning this into a whole trust exercise, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning around and sweeping your hair aside.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice quiet with a flutter of nervousness.

Obediently, you turned, holding your hair up and out of the way, feeling his hands slip around to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. His fingers brushed your skin, surprisingly gently, and suddenly it was hard to focus on anything else but the feel of his hands there. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, his large digits fiddling with the small dainty clasp. You couldn't help but feel hyper-aware of his touch as you let out a small gasp, only for you to hear; the way he just barely grazed your neck for fleeting milliseconds, how his breath was ghosting over your ear in steady, focused breaths, how his tongue stuck out ever so slightly as he focused, his eyes honed in on getting this one thing right just for you - it was far too much.

You swallowed, realising this was the first time he’d ever been this close in this way, this… tender. A part of you wanted to step forward, break the tension, take the necklace and put it on yourself, the burning, buzzing sensation being oh so overwhelming to the point where it felt you might evaporate on this spot, right here right now. But realistically even if you really wanted to, you couldn't force or make yourself move, the feeling was like a drug, coursing through you and this was your euphoria, your high, something you hadn't felt in a long time, or maybe ever and you had no intention of cutting it short.

You gently bring your gaze up from your shoes, to the mirror and stare at him, running your eyes over his face. It's just a necklace, he's just helping you, c'mon get it together!

“There,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt the clasp fall onto your skin. But he didn’t step back right away. His fingers trailed down, skimming the nape of your neck, and for a second you thought - no, you knew - he was about to say something else, he took a sharp intake but then hesitated and remained in his silence. You look up in the mirror, seeing him still staring at your neck, and your hair, slowly meeting your eyes in the mirror before he realises he's been caught. He stepped back, his familiar grin slipping back into place, and the moment passed like a puff of smoke.

“How does it look?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking free from the dizzy haze you've created in your head.

“Looks good,” he said lightly, and you hated the way your heart twisted at the easy casualness of his tone. He flashed you that infuriating smile, the one that made you both want to slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice tight, almost irritated that you felt this intense pull that didn't seem to affect him nearly as much as it affected you. “Thanks.”

Your hand delicately took the pendant between your fingers, toying with it as you both stared at each other in the mirror entranced for a few moments, something shifting. You turned back to the display, focusing hard on the jewellery cases even though you could still feel the phantom warmth of his hands on your skin. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, to ignore the way your heart was racing, to pretend like everything was fine.

But as you looked at your reflection in the store’s mirror, the delicate gold resting against your collarbone, you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew, if he could feel it, too. The slow, insidious shift between you, the way everything had started to mean something when it was supposed to mean nothing at all. It wasn't the first time that Ben had done or said something that froze you, but it seems as though every encounter grows in its intensity, and worse, builds more confusion and haze inside of you.

“Guess that means you’re getting it, right?”

You gave him a shy smile breaking from your thoughts, turning around on your heel, still feeling the heat lingering on your neck. “I… think I might.”

As you admired the necklace in your hands, Ben flashed you a grin and excused himself, slipping off towards the main counter. You assumed he was just idly browsing or looking for something to keep him occupied while you made your decision. But when you turned to check on him, you saw him whispering something to the cashier, glancing over at you with a suspiciously wide grin.

You squinted, realising too late what he was up to. Just as you started toward him, the assistant who’d been helping you gently tapped your shoulder.

“Miss?” she said, her voice sweet but carefully practised. “We actually just got a similar collection of rose-gold necklaces in. You might want to take a look.”

You shot her a polite smile, still watching Ben out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, I think I’ve found the one-”

But Ben was already flashing his card to the cashier, sending you a playful wink and sticking his tongue out between his smile, before your assistant intercepted you again with a dazzling necklace display. By the time you returned to the counter, Ben was leaning casually, arms crossed, the structured paper bag already in his hand.

“Ben!” you hissed, reaching for it.

He laughed, holding it just out of your reach as he leaned in, his grin bordering on smug. “You don’t remember mentionin’ it twice, right?” he drawled, dripping with his usual playful tone, the same one that had you engaged from the day you first met. “Couldn’t risk lettin’ ya walk away from somethin’ you actually like.”

You smacked his arm lightly, only making him laugh more as he ducked away, looping his arm casually around your waist to draw you into a side hug. The warmth of his touch lingered, his hand resting comfortably at your hip. It was the sort of touch that should’ve felt natural by now, but somehow, it left you flustered. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious friend who made everyone laugh. So why did it feel like every touch, every sideways glance in your direction, especially today, held a weight that left you breathless? You hated that it was him, the one person you thought you’d never lose your cool around, who could make your composure slip so effortlessly.

“Don’t go gettin’ all mad,” he said, that easy grin still in place, his accent softening in a way that had your stomach fluttering. “It’s just a little token of your winnin's.”

You mumbled something about unfair tactics, even as your hand settled into his. He finally laughed, still holding your bag and chuckling as he looked around the mall. His gaze landed on a clothing shop just ahead, and his face lit up.

“Alright, you got your shiny new necklace. Now you’re helpin’ me pick out a hoodie,” he said, giving you a grin that could only be described as downright cocky. “Let’s see if I can look half as put together as you.”

“Fine,” you replied, barely suppressing a smile, “but don't expect me to return the payment favour, that's on you.”

Ben just laughed, letting you walk in first before he strolled in behind you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once inside, Ben beelined for the hoodies, pulling out everything he could get his hands on without checking the tags or sizes. He held up a dark blue one with a shrug, grinning as he tossed it in your direction. “This one’s a classic, right? Nice and oversized?”

“Ben,” you said, giving him an exasperated look as you held the fabric up, it's nowhere near his size, way too small. “This wouldn’t even fit you like a sleeve. This would be a corset for you. Besides, since when do you need an oversized anything?”

He chuckled, looking down at his broad shoulders and long frame. “Point taken. Let’s see, you’re gonna have to help me find somethin’… refined. Like me.”

You rolled your eyes, but reached for a khaki cream-coloured hoodie, holding it up in front of him. “This one’s got ‘actually dressed himself’ written all over it.”

Ben took it from you and pulled it over his head without bothering to even look for the changing rooms, letting it settle over his broad shoulders and across his arms, the fabric fitting perfectly. He adjusted the sleeves, smoothing out a crease as he caught your eye with a playful smirk.

“So, how do I look? All cleaned up, or just half?”

You stepped closer, straightening the hood and smoothing the fabric across his chest and shoulders. “Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly. “Maybe the best-dressed you’ve ever been for casual attire.”

Ben cleared his throat, a small blush creeping up his neck before he made a funny face at you and pushed your face away with his palm, making you laugh. You reached up and tugged the hood down over his face in response. “Stop it! Do you ever act normal?”

From underneath the hood, his face was hidden but the smile in his tone gave him away. “Normal? C’mon, that doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He yanked the hood off, reaching for another hoodie, examining a grey one this time. He pulled the cream hoodie up over his head, and just as he tugged it up, you realised his T-shirt was trying to come with it. Without thinking, you reached over and tugged his shirt back down, cheeks warming as he slipped into the hoodie with a cheeky grin.

“Good save,” he said, finally adjusting the fit with a little salute. “Now I really gotta make you my official stylist.”

“Oh, if it means I get to stop you from embarrassing yourself in public, I’ll do it,” you replied with a grin.

Ben just rolled his eyes sassily as he watched you inspect the look as he pulled the grey one on. “Don’t go givin’ me too many compliments now. Might go straight to my head.”

You laughed, giving his chest a final pat. “I’d say we’ve got it just right.”

After a long day of shopping and conversing together, the last thing you needed was more conversation, you couldn't wait to take yourself to your hotel room and sink in everything that had happened and everything that had been felt. As you took your small bags from Ben's hands you stood in the elevator, engrossed in the gossip Ben was subjecting you to, something to do with car dealers. Somewhere along the way, Ben had even pressed the button to your floor himself.

By the time you unlocked your door, it was almost automatic; you turned to face him, assuming he’d say goodbye and let you get some rest. But he strolled right in, still mid-sentence, as if he had every right to be there. You stood in the doorframe, breaking your smile and shaking your head, mouth agape as you realised what just happened.

“Ben... did you just follow me into my hotel room?” you asked, crossing your arms as you watched him plop down on your bed like he owned the place.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself. You ain’t got nothin’ in here worth followin’ you for - ‘cept maybe more of that wild fashion sense you got.” He shot you a teasing grin, his eyes flicking over to the small shopping bags you’d set down on the dresser.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re a fashion critic too? I didn’t hear you complaining when I helped you pick out those hoodies.”

He laughed, that easy, familiar sound filling the room, and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I still think you coulda gone a little crazier. All that walking around and y' bought tiny, little things like that necklace. Real tame, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile. “It’s called being tasteful, Ben. Not everyone can rock 'big and bold' like you.”

He gave you a mock-offended look, his drawl growing thicker. “Well, we can’t all be boring, now can we, darlin'?”

You felt a flicker of something under his words - the teasing words hung in the air longer than you expected, and you felt a jolt of something, nothing you could name, but enough to make you look away first, pretending to busy yourself with the bags again as you cleared your throat.

“Right,” you said, voice light, “because you’re the definition of exciting. The guy who almost bought a novelty koala mug for fifty bucks.”

“Hey, c'mon now, that mug was a steal,” he shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. “And besides, who’s gonna stop me? You?”

You giggled softly, flopping down beside him on your stomach, your elbow brushing the bedspread as you kept a careful inch of space between you. The gap between you felt electric, buzzing with that familiar charge you both pretended not to notice. “I already did, remember? I’ve saved you so many times from a lifetime of tacky souvenirs. You’d be drowning in cheap tourist mugs if it weren’t for me.”

Ben’s face softened, his smirk fading into something almost thoughtful as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. “Guess I owe you, then,” he said quietly, his tone lower, like he was sharing a secret.

The room seemed to hold its breath, and you swore the sunlight dimmed just a little, softening the angles of his face. For a heartbeat, you thought he was going to say something more, something that would change everything between you. You caught the scent of his cologne, warm and fresh with a hint of spice, and your eyes flickered down to his lips, wondering if he’d noticed the way you’d frozen like a deer in headlights, caught between teasing and leaning in, unsure if you were daring him or daring yourself.

His gaze dropped, almost imperceptibly, to where your fingers played with the loose thread on the edge of the bedspread, and it was like he saw right through you. The air crackled, the tension stretching out like a taut string, ready to snap making you feel all sorts of woozy. You knew if you moved, if you even breathed too deeply, it would shatter whatever fragile moment this was. He was watching you so closely, noticing everything, the angle of your face, the way your hair fell, the way your breath caught just a little too fast, the tiny smile you couldn’t quite hide.

And then he grinned as he caught your smile; a lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip. The vulnerability in his eyes flickered and was gone, hidden behind that familiar playful charm. It was safer that way, easier to laugh it off than to admit there might be something real between you.

You nudged him gently with your shoulder, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, aching from the sincere moment but almost glad it passed. Almost.

“You definitely do,” you said, your voice deliberately light.

Ben chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that made you feel both safe and entirely off-balance. “Deal, you got it. How about some snacks? But, if I’m buyin’, you can’t go pullin’ that health-nut stuff on me. It’s gotta be a proper snack run, none of your boring, practical choices.”

“Oh, I’m so there,” you replied, half laughing, half trying to mask the flush that was still heating your cheeks. “Just don’t get all whiny if I veto your terrible taste.”

He sat up, giving you a mockingly serious look, his expression exaggeratedly grave. “Whiny? I don’t whine. I’m just... persuasive.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, feeling the tension still lingering about in the air.

You reached out to push his shoulder playfully, but he was faster. His hand caught yours, fingers curling around yours in a way that sent a spark racing up your arm. For a second, everything went still, the noise from the street outside faded, and the weight of the bed shifted beneath you, but all you could feel was the heat of his palm against yours.

It was Ben who let go first, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark. “9, don’t be late,” he said, pushing himself off the bed with a careless grin.

You watched him head for the door, your pulse still racing in your chest. “I’m never late,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected despite the way your voice wavered, light and teasing.

He paused in the doorway, throwing a look over his shoulder, his eyes softer than usual, almost expectant. “We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you staring at the closed door, still lying on the bed, with a strange, buzzing feeling beneath your skin. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face, your hand on fire from the interaction as you stared around, dumbfounded from the passing moments.

Later that night, you headed to the hotel lobby, the low hum of late-night travellers and the clinking of glass doors filling the space. You spotted Ben before he saw you, leaning casually against a column in a purple hoodie, scrolling through his phone with a barely-there smile tugging at his lips.

He looked up the second the elevator doors opened, and whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t you in a simple top with the sleeves pushed up and cargo pants, like you were trying too hard to look like you weren’t trying at all.

His eyebrows lifted, a grin spreading slow and wide. “That’s what you’re wearin’?” he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

You scoffed, furrowing your brows, shoving your hands in your pockets before muttering, “Yeah... what’s wrong with it?”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way they softened, something playful and gentle mingling with the mischief. Without saying a word, he dug into his bag and pulled out a well-worn hoodie, its cuffs fraying slightly and the colour slightly faded from too many washes. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at you. “You’re not goin’ anywhere with me like that.”

You gave him a long, unamused stare. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he shot back, voice dropping lower, teasing. “Don’t make me beg.”

You snatched the hoodie from him with a huff, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fabric as you slipped it over your head. It was massive, swallowing you whole, the sleeves dangling well past your hands. You tugged at the cuffs, rolling them up clumsily and folding the bottom into your waistband so it didn't completely swallow you up as Ben watched with a satisfied smirk.

“Better,” he declared, like he’d personally fixed a crisis.

“Happy now?” you asked, your voice sharper than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help the way your heart picked up speed when he looked at you like that like you were more than just some friend he dragged along on a whim.

He just grinned and nodded. “Let’s go.”

The grocery store was nearly empty, the white-lit aisles stretching out like pathways to nowhere. The two of you wandered slowly at first, examining small differences side by side, until you found yourselves in the snack aisle, surrounded by walls of bright, neon packaging. Ben was in his element, zeroing in on the loudest, most ridiculous options like a kid in a candy store.

He plucked a bag of neon-orange chips from the shelf, shaking it lightly. “Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly all business, “What’s your stance on cheese puffs?”

You glanced at the bag and back at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not food, that’s...radioactive material. Nothing should be that orange.”

He gasped mouth agape before forming a pout, side-eyeing you. “Loud and wrong, but okay...”

You snatched the bag from his hand, tossing it into the cart anyway. “Fine. But we’re getting something that won’t kill us on the spot too.”

“Oh, here we go,” he groaned, watching as you added a box of granola bars to the mix with a self-satisfied smile. He shook his head, grabbing the cart handle and steering it down the aisle with a flourish.

“You’re no fun.”

“Somebody has to be the adult,” you said lightly, your shoulder brushing his as you walked.

The cart squeaked slightly as you rounded the corner, stopping to examine a box and before you knew it, Ben had snuck up behind you, his hands on your waist, lifting you off the floor in one swift movement. You barely had time to react before he dropped you, albeit with a slightly abrupt drop, laughing into the cart like it was the most natural thing in the world. You gasped, grabbing at the edges of the cart to steady yourself as he pushed forward, his laughter echoing off the empty shelves.

“Ben, what are you doing?” you demanded, half-exasperated, half-laughing as the cart picked up speed.

“Shoppin’!” he said nonchalantly, his voice lilting with barely suppressed giggles. “What’s it look like?”

You tried to glare at him, but the sound of his laughter, the way he moved so easily beside you, pulling you into his orbit, made it impossible to be mad. He flipped the hood over your face without warning, almost like payback from your antics earlier and you yelped, fumbling to throw it off your face as he made a dramatic show of spinning the cart around in circles in a wide arc, as if he were doing doughnuts in his car, laughing as you swayed and clung to the sides.

“Ben, you’re insane!” you shouted, but it came out more like a giggle, and you knew he’d hear it for what it was; a thrill you couldn’t quite hide.

“Yeah, but you love it!” he shot back, slowing the cart and landing it to face him, just enough to meet your eyes, the world narrowing down to the space between you. His smile was softer now, more intimate like he’d forgotten you were in a brightly lit grocery store at all.

For a second, you forgot too. Forgot about the shelves stacked high with candy and cereal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as your world came back from spinning and went straight into those puppy-dog brown eyes that always invited you so warmly. It was just him, and the warmth in him, the way he was looking at you like he could see straight through all the walls you’d built up.

Then he blinked, breaking the moment, and you cleared your throat, holding your sides tighter like it was armour. “C’mon,” you said, your voice a little too casual. “We still need to get some popcorn.”

His smirk returned a flash of teeth and mischief. “Only if I get to pick.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping out of the cart in a not-so-gracious way, almost tripping and falling over before you found your feet, while he squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a laugh. You ignored him and nudged him aside as you led the way, leaving him and the cart behind. “We’re not getting any of that sugar-loaded nonsense.”

“Deal,” he said easily, falling back into step beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours with every step as he leaned onto the shopping cart's handle. It was comfortable, this back-and-forth, like a dance you’d both practised without realising.

The rest of the trip was a blur of bright colours and easy laughter, you vetoing his most ridiculous choices and him sneaking them into the cart when he thought you weren’t looking. There was something electric in the air, a charge that made you feel light and breathless. Every time your eyes met, it was like the world shrunk just a little more, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in a moment that neither of you wanted to end.

By the time you left, the night air was cool and crisp, and the city lights blurred into a haze of gold and blue. You carried your small, modest box of granola bars easily while Ben lugged a full backpack and a crinkling, overstuffed plastic bag of brightly coloured chaos, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked.

“Y’know,” he began, adding a lazy warmth to the night air, “if you think for one second that’s the last time I’m gonna put you in a cart, you’re wrong.”

You huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Oh yeah? You're planning on carrying me around as part of your personal grocery haul from now on?”

He shot you a playful grin, his smile wide and easy. “Might just make it a habit. You fit in there pretty nice.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped his arm with yours, but the warmth lingered longer than you expected. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Hey, I don't hear nobody complainin’ ‘bout bein’ chauffeured around,” he shot back, his eyes glimmering in the low streetlights. “And don’t pretend you didn’t love it. Saw you smilin’ the whole way.”

You tried to hide your grin, biting down on your lip. “I was not smiling.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl, and you knew he saw right through you. He always did, with that irritating, endearing way of his.

He kept walking, and you fell into an easy stride beside him, the silence that stretched out feeling warm, and comfortable, the kind that made you feel like you didn’t need to fill it with words.

As you cross the street, your fingers accidentally brush his for a split second, and you both tense up, the smallest contact sparking between you like static. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shot you a quick, almost shy smile before looking up at the half-lit sky.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said suddenly as if the thought had just hit him. “There’s this café I saw online, right? Said they’ve got the best breakfast sandwiches in Australia. And it's like, a 15-minute walk from the hotel.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah? And what, you’re planning to drag me out of bed before dawn just to try a sandwich?”

“Exactly! You read my mind!” he yelped excitedly without missing a beat, clearly not hearing your sarcasm. “We’ll beat the crowd! No lines, best seat in the house. Plus,” he added with a wink, “you look like you could use a proper breakfast after that grocery store workout.”

You gave him a sceptical look, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. But if it’s some overhyped, greasy thing, you owe me.”

“I’ll take that bet,” he said, flashing that confident grin that made it impossible to say no. The walk back to the hotel was quieter, the playful back-and-forth giving way to a comfortable, unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to break. After many attempts at trying to close the door on Ben only to be interrupted by "Wait, one last thing before I go"'s and many, many awful jokes, you finally found yourself drained as you collapsed onto your bed. You quickly set a reminder for his ridiculous plan, and a dreadful 5am alarm was made, leaving you with not nearly enough time to rest after the day's antics.

The alarm dragged you out of a deep sleep way too soon, feeling like you had just fallen into slumber. You groaned, fumbling to silence it, barely managing to swing your legs over the side of the bed before realising you were still wrapped in Ben’s hoodie, the fabric heavy and warm, smelling of cologne and well, him. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself to move, your mind foggy with sleep, the hotel room still wrapped in low shadow. The chill of the early hour made you pull the hoodie tighter around yourself, the soft material a comfort against the cold.

When you finally stumbled downstairs to the lobby, he was already there, leaning casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding a steaming ceramic cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you noticed the way his eyes went wide for a second before he quickly masked it with a crooked smile. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t been awake for long, but the sight of him made your chest feel oddly light. You were still half-asleep, your hair barely brushed, eyes slightly open, and wearing his hoodie like it was a shield against the early morning chill.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said, his voice rough and deep with sleep, the sound of it washing over you like a warm wave. There was a hitch in his tone, something unsteady and unguarded, and it made your stomach flutter in a way you couldn’t quite explain. "You look... cozy."

You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, barely registering his words. “What?” you mumbled, blinking up at him.

The lights in the lobby were harsh, making you squint, and you fumbled with the hood, pushing it back slightly. Your fingers felt clumsy, too heavy, and you knew you looked a mess. No makeup, hair lazily brushed, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands like a second blanket.

His gaze lingered, and he cleared his throat, glancing away quickly like he’d seen something he shouldn’t. “I, uh... you’re wearin’ my hoodie,” he said, a slow smile tugging at his lips despite the awkwardness in his voice.

“Didn’t think you’d be, y’know, sleepin’ in it.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you shrugged, still too groggy to care much. “It’s comfortable,” you muttered, your voice muffled with sleep. “I just… forgot to take it off.”

He was quiet for a beat too long like he was turning your words over in his mind, and you noticed the way he was looking at you, really looking, like he was seeing something he hadn’t expected. You wanted to say something, to break the strange heaviness of the moment, but your brain felt slow and thick with exhaustion, and all you could do was yawn and shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer, a bit hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing. His eyes were bright despite the early hour, lingering on the way his hoodie hung loose on your frame, the oversized fabric almost swallowing you. “Well, it... looks good on you. Real good.”

You ducked your head, a sleepy laugh escaping your lips, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at his words. “I’m sure it does, c'mon let's get going if we want to beat the queue or whatever,” you teased, though there was no bite behind it. You didn’t have the energy for anything but honesty, and you were still caught up in the warmth of his hoodie, the way it felt like a shield against the morning chill.

His grin softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Nah, I mean it,” he said, his drawl slow and unsteady. “Didn’t know you’d make my old thing look that good.”

You shrugged again, feeling your face flush as you ducked your chin deeper into the collar of the hoodie. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes still half-closed, struggling to focus in the dim lighting.

“Yeah, you should,” he said, the words coming out a little too fast like he couldn’t quite control the way they slipped out. He was still watching you, his gaze almost tender, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your sleepy vulnerability.

You felt an odd sensation bloom in your chest. Something soft and unsteady, and you weren’t sure if it was the early hour, his deep, sleep-rough voice, or the way he couldn’t seem to look away from you. You fumbled to roll up the too-long sleeves, your fingers barely managing to fold the fabric back, and Ben’s gaze followed the movement, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite name.

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his movements careful and unhurried, like he was testing the boundaries of whatever this was between you. He lifted his coffee cup, its warmth radiating outwards as he held it just inches from your face. “Here,” he offered his voice still that deep morning rumble that made your stomach twist. “You look like you could use this more than I do.”

Ben handed you the mug, and as you took a sip, your fingers barely brushed his, such a small, fleeting touch that it might as well have been an accident. But the warmth of it lingered, and Ben’s eyes, still sleepy but more awake than yours, didn’t stray from your face. You were too groggy to notice as you took a deep gulp of the warm coffee. It was rich and comforting, exactly what you needed to get moving, and you barely caught the way Ben's gaze softened as you closed your eyes and sighed contentedly.

You held the mug back out to him, half-smiling as you blinked against the morning light spilling through the windows. “Okay, I'll admit, it’s good,” you admitted, handing it over with a sleepy grin.

Ben grinned back, his tone suddenly lighter as he accepted the mug again. “Mhm, damn right,” his drawl thick in the early hour, the kind that always made you feel just a bit more awake than you were ready for. His voice was deep, still rough from sleep, and you felt a strange flutter at the sound of it, so different from his usual light-hearted teasing. He looked like he wanted to add something further, but instead, he raised the mug to his lips, pausing for the briefest moment before taking a sip from the exact spot where your mouth had just been.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice a little rough, almost hesitant, and you nodded, letting him lead the way out into the slowly illuminating streets.

The walk to the café was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet now, one that felt heavy with things left unsaid, with the strange intimacy of the moment lingering between you like a secret. Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, and you felt more awake with each step, the chilly air biting at your face and the faint light from the rising sun glinting off the windows above. Ben was walking a little too close, his arm brushing yours every now and then, and you noticed the way he kept sneaking glances at you as if he was trying to memorise every detail, the way his hoodie pooled around your hips, the faint shadow of sleep still lingering in your eyes and on your pouted lips, the way you hadn’t bothered to fix your hair or hide the bare honesty of your face.

“Don't think I’ve ever seen you this early before,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, low and rumbling like distant thunder. “No makeup, no fancy clothes. Just... I don't know, man, just you.”

You looked up at him, squinting a little against the first light of dawn, and tried to muster up some kind of retort, but all you could manage was a half-hearted, sleepy smile. “Disappointed?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not even a little,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice hit you like a punch to the gut. He smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up in that familiar way that made your heart skip, and you found yourself smiling back without even realising it, feeling lighter and warmer than you had in a long time.

The two of you arrived at the café, footsteps slowing as you got closer. But when you reached the door, your heart sank. Not a single person lined up. The café was dark, the interior shrouded in shadows, and there, taped to the inside of the window, was a handwritten sign that read: Closed. Opens at 7 AM.

You blinked at it, still half-asleep, your shoulders slumping as disappointment settled in. “Ben,” you dragged a hand over your face before narrowing your eyes at him, “you’re telling me I could’ve slept for two more hours? I thought it'd be open sooner!”

“Hey, who needs sleep?” he said, shrugging without a hint of regret. He gestured to the empty curb across the street with a grin. “C’mon. Let’s sit it out. I’ll make the time fly right by.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the chill in the early-morning air, you settled beside him on the curb, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you rested your chin atop your knees. The street was quiet in the way only early morning can be, just the two of you and the distant hum of a waking city.

Ben stretched his long legs out in front of him like he owned the street. There was something so easy about sitting there with him in the silence, the air crisp and the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. You watched the horizon, focusing on the deepening shades of indigo and pale gold, the familiar comfort of the city awakening inch by inch. It was strange how easy it was to be around him, how your guard dropped without you even noticing. His presence was effortless, and the way his eyes rested on you every now and then, like you were someone worth seeing, made you feel something you didn’t quite want to name yet.

“You know,” he murmured, a hint of his usual humour in his tone, “you’re not half bad at relaxin’ after all.”

You shot him a soft glare, lips twitching. “Are you trying to say I’m fun?”

“Hmm...I’d say a little more than fun,” he replied, his smile widening. “But let’s just leave it at that for now. At least no one’s in line, so we’ll get the best seat in the house when they do open” He glanced over to you as he leaned back on his palms.

You chuckled, glancing at the empty street. The entire street was silent, just the two of you in the quiet stillness of dawn. You relaxed a little, sinking further into the oversized hoodie that smelled like him, comforting and familiar.

After a while, he nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes up to the sky but his voice low. “You ever notice how I always seem to get you roped into these side quests of mine?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Errands, random snack runs, you name it.”

You shot him a sideways glance, fighting back a smirk. “Oh, I’ve noticed. You have a knack for it, Ben. You’re lucky I can keep up. You nominated me for laundry duty last week too.”

He let his head back with a laugh. “Well, you’re good at it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to help the smile that pulled at your lips. “Or maybe you’re just lazy.”

“Nah, it’s ‘cause you’re the only person who’ll actually come along for the ride,” he admitted, his gaze settling on you with a softness that made your heart skip. “Anyway… why don’t you ever bring a boyfriend along on one of these little errands? Not like you're short on admirers.”

His question caught you off guard, and you looked away, staring out at the sunrise as your thoughts turned inward. It was a topic you rarely touched, one you hadn’t even realised you’d been avoiding until now.“I don’t know,” you said softly, your voice distant and hesitant. “I guess, maybe… it’s just easier this way?”

“No one special you’re hiding from me, huh?” Ben’s tone was gentle, almost teasing, but his eyes held a genuine curiosity. He wanted to understand.

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was a part of yourself you rarely shared, a shadow you’d kept hidden for a long time. But the stillness of the morning and the warmth in his gaze tugged at something deep inside. “There was someone,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “A while ago.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, the usual teasing gone, replaced by quiet patience.

“He... he liked that I had my life together, y'know? Like I was this 'go-getter,' always calm and composed,” you said, slowly letting the words surface. “Or at least, that’s what he told me. He said he liked that I wasn’t flashy and that I didn’t draw too much attention to myself. I think he appreciated my quiet confidence, and how I could go with the flow. Looking back, I think it was because he thought it made me easier to control...” You let out a short, hollow laugh that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I didn’t even realise when things shifted,” you continued, voice more firm now. “When he went from showing genuine interest to making all the decisions. It must've been gradual, but it felt like it just happened one day; I don’t know when it started. Suddenly, he was calling all the shots, and I thought I was just being a good partner. Compromising. Making space for him. Letting him be himself. But I didn’t see that, bit by bit, I was putting myself away.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his attention urging you to go on.

“He’d ignore my texts for hours, sometimes days, and then act like I was overreacting when I brought it up. But God forbid I missed one of his calls during training or when I was away on tour. If I couldn’t stay up late to talk, he’d make it into a huge deal. We’d set times to call, but he’d never follow through—and always with some lame excuse.”

You paused, drawing a deep breath, eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

“And then there were the arguments,” you said, voice tightening. “About the most impossible things—like how I didn’t spend enough time with him. How could I when I was half a world away? Or how my career always came first. He said I was boring, that I wasn’t spontaneous enough. But whenever I tried to change, there was always something else wrong. No matter what I did, it was never enough.”

Ben’s expression darkened, a flicker of frustration tightening the corners of his mouth. His hand was on the curb next to yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin—grounding you.

“Maybe he was jealous,” you said, the words almost to yourself. “That’s what my mom said. Jealous of my success, or of the fact that I had something I loved that wasn’t about him. He knew exactly how to make me feel small. Every victory, every career milestone, he’d twist it, make me feel like I was failing him. Like I was always letting him down. I thought... if I could just balance it all if I could make him happy, he’d love me the way I needed. But honestly? I don’t even know what I needed anymore, not when he was the one telling me how to feel.”

You swallowed, the bitterness of those memories heavy on your tongue.

“No matter how much I shifted or tried to be the girl he wanted, it was never enough. There was always another criticism, another reason why I wasn’t good enough. I was too selfish, too focused on my career, too indecisive, too... everything. And I believed him. I thought I was the problem. That I just couldn’t make him happy.”

A light breeze swept through the street, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your knees close as if to shield yourself from the weight of those memories.

“He was... God, Ben, you should've heard him. He was so relentless when he wanted to be. It felt like every part of my life was under a microscope, every single decision, every single choice; it was all wrong. All the things I loved, the things that made me proud, they just started to fade away, like they’d been drained of colour.”

Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, finding strength in the words you’d never fully voiced before.

“I started to lose myself in a spiral. Everything felt so ... grey, so heavy like I was wading through water. I thought... isn’t this what relationships are? Compromise, sacrifice, working through the rough patches? That’s what I kept telling myself. I thought if I just tried harder, if I carried the weight for both of us, then maybe he’d be happy again, like how he was in the beginning. But I started wondering if I was even cut out for love. I mean, what does it even mean to love someone, really? All I knew was that I kept losing myself in the process, and it still wasn’t nearly enough.”

You exhaled, as the quiet of the morning felt almost too peaceful, the faint chirping of birds contrasting with the heaviness of what you were saying.

“And then he cheated,” you continued, your voice flat. “When I found out, he didn’t even try to deny it. He just looked at me, fatigued, and was like, ‘What did you expect with the way you treat me? Don’t be so naive.’ But you know what?”

You paused, a strange light creeping into your voice.

“It was almost a relief. Him cheating... it was my way out. For the first time, I had a solid, undeniable reason to leave. I didn’t have to keep convincing myself that I needed to try harder, or that it was all my fault.”

Your voice softened, carrying vulnerability.

“I don’t even know if I ever really loved him, or maybe, I don't know how to love. Maybe I just loved the idea of being loved or being enough for someone. But the truth is, I don’t think I even know what love is supposed to feel like. I gave everything I had, and it still wasn’t right, I felt so drained like a vampire had me. Maybe I’ve never felt real love, or maybe... maybe I’m just not meant for it.”

Ben’s silence was heavy beside you, his gaze unwavering, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. The shame and rawness of your words made your throat tighten, but you kept going.

“I stayed until I had nothing left to give until I got cheated on, and even then, I couldn’t tell you why. It was like I was trying to win a game I didn’t even understand. And in the end, I realised... I never even had him, not truly. I was always chasing something that wasn’t there. It was always a losing game, and I was the only one playing.”

Ben’s gaze was steady, the weight of your words hanging between you. Then he spoke, his tone warm and sincere. “You don’t deserve someone treating you like that. Not ever. I-"

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before he continued.

"I can’t even imagine doin' that to you. You’re more than enough, you always have been. You don’t need to change a single thing for anyone. Man, I like you just the way you are because I know you, and I know you’re worth so much more than what you settled for with that dick.”

A tear slid down your cheek, carrying all the hurt you’d kept buried for so long. You weren’t crying, not really, but his words had found their way past all your defences, and something inside you softened and broke open.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice small, almost scared, your eyes searching his.

Ben’s eyes locked onto yours, and something in his expression shifted. For a moment, he seemed almost stunned, his face softening, his features melting with a tenderness that made it hard to breathe. He reached out slowly to cup your face with his hand, as if afraid you might pull away, and when you didn’t, he gently wiped the tear from your cheek. His fingers lingered, brushing against your skin with a touch so careful it made your heart ache.

“I mean every word,” he said, his voice low and steady, barely more than a whisper. “I see you, Y/N. I’ve always seen you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and the tears came faster, though still silent. Ben’s expression softened even further, and he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping a strong arm around you, and holding you close. You pressed your face into his shoulder, feeling the warmth and solid comfort of him, and slowly, you let yourself sink into his embrace. He didn’t speak, just rubbed your back in gentle circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

After minutes had passed when the tightness in your chest had started to fade and the early morning warmth grew warmer, you felt him smile against your hair. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, and he said with a playful grin, “If this is all it takes to get a hug outta you, I should’ve asked sooner.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a small, breathy laugh, rolling your eyes even as you stayed close to him, nestling your head before you lifted it up.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, smacking his shoulder lightly. “If I knew you were gonna use emotional blackmail for free hugs, I would’ve kept my distance.”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting, and the warmth of the moment settled between you. You pulled away, wiping your face with the oversized sleeves of his old hoodie, the one that had become yours. The quiet returned, peaceful now, the sun creeping higher in the sky and washing everything in shades of soft orange and pink.

You sat together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, the pain slowly ebbing away as the world woke up around you. There was something different between you now, a shift that neither of you said out loud but both of you felt. For the first time in a long time, you felt a weight lift, and you let yourself relax against him, the silence and small conversation comfortable as you felt relief and warmth flow through you.

By the time the café finally opened, you and Ben had spent two hours huddled together as the sun began to bathe you two, and sharing quiet laughter as the world slowly woke up around you. The anticipation of the legendary breakfast had both of you giddy and a little loopy from the early start, making the time fly by.

But when the doors swung open and you finally got your hands on the much-hyped breakfast sandwiches, reality hit. The sandwiches were mediocre, wayyy too salty and the coffee was disappointingly weak. The "famous" breakfast sandwiches that Ben’s TikTok video had promised would be life-changing were, frankly, a letdown. Yet, it didn’t matter at all.

The two of you slid into a corner booth, expecting to sit across from each other, but Ben surprised you by scooting in right beside you, his thigh pressing lightly against yours. He stretched his legs out under the table, claiming the whole space as his own. You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his warmth as you sipped your disappointing coffee.

“This is the most underwhelming breakfast I’ve ever had,” you said, crinkling your nose as you picked at the sandwich.

Ben chuckled, flashing you a mischievous grin. “Guess I owe you a better one, next time” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Damn right, you do,” you shot back with a smirk.

Ben’s arm rested casually over the back of the booth, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Every small, careless touch, his knee nudging yours, his fingers grazing your hoodie, made it harder to ignore the fluttering in your chest. With each laugh and shared smile, you felt something shifting between you, something that made it impossible to see him as just a friend, especially after being so vulnerable earlier.

As the café started to fill with the morning crowd, you remained on the same side of the booth, your legs tangled comfortably under the table. There was an easy closeness between you now, a kind of unspoken understanding like you were sharing a secret that only the two of you knew. When he reached over to brush a crumb from your lip as you talked, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, you felt your cheeks heat and words stutter, but you didn’t pull away. The sun rose higher, streaming golden light through the café windows, and the warmth between you felt softer and more real than any disappointment over a bad breakfast. Ben’s presence was grounding, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt genuinely at ease, like the weight of your earlier conversation and all your own personal baggage had lessened, transformed into something lighter by his easy smile and gentle touch.

By the time you both decided to leave, you were still laughing over the overhyped “legendary” breakfast. As you stepped out onto the sun-drenched street, Ben’s hand slipped into yours with a light squeeze, like always, as if to say, I’m still here. I’ve got you. The simple gesture left your skin tingling, and your heart racing just a little faster.

You walked together down the slowly waking street back to the hotel, shoulder to shoulder, arms looped together, a warmth lingering between you that had nothing to do with the sunrise. The world around you was coming alive, but it felt like you were still living in that quiet, private space you'd created in the early morning hours, a small bubble of warmth and closeness that was just yours. Of course, it couldn't last long, not with training and matches coming up alongside personal commitments and whatever else, but having this quiet time together was more than rewarding.

As the café faded into the past, so did the warmth of those golden moments, but the echoes lingered. It wasn’t just the memory of his hand brushing yours or the way his laugh had chased away the lingering shadows of your conversation. It was the way he lingered, so effortlessly, so relentlessly, in the quiet spaces of your life.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him as your tour carried you to different cities. The way his hand had slipped into yours so naturally that morning replayed in your mind at the oddest times: during practice serves, mid-flight naps creeping into your peaceful dreams, even while unpacking yet another suitcase in yet another hotel room. It wasn’t like you wanted to be distracted, but Ben was everywhere, his presence stamped into your routine as if he’d always been part of it. And it seemed as though he had no intention of loosening that grip he had on your mind. Calls and messages were frequent as days blurred into one another, conversations that felt simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. Ones that'd have you squealing in bed as you reread over the texts or have you clutching your phone tight minutes after hanging up, savouring the small moments. The banter was still there, as effortless as it was grounding, but now it came with an undercurrent you couldn’t name, something unspoken threading its way through the pauses between your words. Ben became a comforting constant amid the chaos. He was always just a call or a text away, his presence a steady anchor even when everything else felt transient. And while you were grateful for the familiarity, it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted every time his name lit up your phone.

Like tonight.

After a gruelling match and a hurried dinner that barely counted as a meal, you finally collapsed onto the hotel bed. The quiet of the room felt foreign after the noise of the day, but it was a relief until your phone buzzed on the nightstand. The call started with Ben’s face filling the screen, eyebrows raised and a smirk already in place.

“Hey, stranger,” he smiled in a sing-song tone.

“Oh, spare me,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

" 'Spare me?' ” Ben scoffed, kicking back and grinning at the screen. “Girl, you’re acting like you’re the only one with a rough schedule. What’ve you been up to? Post-match feast, or just a sad granola bar?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Neither. Quick and quiet dinner after the match, some bland pasta with a wilted salad, the usual. Real glamorous stuff.You already back to your hotel?”

“Hours ago,” he said. “Caught the highlights of your match, though. That backhand winner down the line? Chef’s kiss.” He mimed a dramatic kiss to the camera. “You’re out here stealing the show.”

“Please,” you said, rolling your eyes, and shrugging. “It wasn’t even my best match. I’ll take a win, though.”

“Don’t be modest,” Ben teased. “Meanwhile, my highlights reel was probably just me sweating buckets with my shirt clinging to me and yelling after missing a forehand.”

You smirked. “Nah, you’re too busy being ‘America’s tennis heartthrob.’ I’m sure your fangirls don’t even notice the double faults.”

Ben groaned, throwing his head back. “Not this again.”

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, teasing him. “Tall, built, All-American golden boy? I’m shocked they haven’t made you into a wax figure yet! ATP should get on that, the more I think about it.”

He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Is the golden boy charm working on you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, furrowing your brows. “What..? No. Shut up!”

Ben chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, I was just checking. You're the one who brought it up.”

“Yeah, well…” you said, flustered, fumbling for a comeback. “I mean, I guess it’s a little funny. The way they’re all obsessed with you, I mean.”

He smirked. “Smooth save.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, looking away. “At least you’re not lonely on tour. You’ve got Bryan. Built-in travel buddy.”

Ben scrunched his face up. “Oh yeah, great idea! Let me just grab dinner with my dad after a match so he can spend two hours lecturing me about footwork and his ‘good ol’ days.’ ”

You laughed, before breaking into a pout. “Poor, poor Bryan. He just wants to hang out with his son, and you’re out here running from him.”

“I’m not running,” Ben said defensively. “I’m…um, strategically avoiding.”

“Sure you are.”

“And anyway, no one here’s like you,” he added, his tone casual but his gaze steady.

That caught you off guard. “Yeah-w-what?”

Ben’s smirk deepened. “Don’t choke now. Where’s that quick wit of yours?”

“Shut it,” you groaned, your face heating up as you pressed your face into the mattress.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” he teased, leaning closer to the camera. “Cat really got your tongue this time, huh?”

“Ben, I swear to God,” you said, groaning and burying your face in your hands and dropping the phone.

He laughed, clearly triumphant. “It’s okay, you’ll get me back at the charity doubles event in a few months. I’m counting on you to carry me.”

“Carry you?” you said, grateful for the change in topic. “I thought you were the unstoppable Ben Shelton. 'Big serves, big shots.’ "

“Yeah, yeah, but doubles is different,” he said with a shrug. “Doubles is all about teamwork. I’ll take your instructions. Like Federer and Mirka, except, y’know, cooler.”

You laughed. “Cooler? That’s a bold claim.”

“Why not?” he said, spreading his arms wide. “They’re classy, they’re unstoppable, and they look good doing it. That’s us, right? Total power couple energy.”

“Power couple?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“On the court,” he clarified with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it professional.”

“You’d better,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

As the call ended and the screen faded to black, you lingered in the quiet of your room, your pulse still racing in the aftermath of his teasing grin. Your fingers traced the necklace at your throat, the metal cool under your touch, but the memory it carried, the warmth of his hands, the way his eyes had softened when he fastened it, made your chest feel full and tight all at once.

You had to admit, Ben Shelton was infuriatingly good at leaving you in this liminal space, caught somewhere between wanting to roll your eyes and wanting to let yourself fall completely into whatever this was becoming.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and rifled through your suitcase, finding his hoodie tucked neatly inside. It was a lifeline, an anchor to him when the distance felt like too much. The fabric was soft against your cheek as you hugged it to your chest, his scent faint but unmistakable, as if he were still there, filling the room with his easy laughter and ridiculous charm. It was almost maddening how easily he got under your skin, how his words lingered long after the call had ended, tangling themselves with your thoughts and leaving you guessing.

Was he just being Ben? The not-knowing was intoxicating in its own way, a thrill and torment that made your stomach flutter and your mind race long into the night until you could fall asleep, and even then, he graced your dreams with his warmth that you could never get enough of.

For Ben, the feelings weren’t any simpler. He leaned back against his hotel bed, the phone still warm in his hand, the smile he’d worn during the call refusing to fade. You always had this way of leaving him grinning like an idiot, proud of his one-liners that caught you off guard but tonight felt different. He loved catching you off guard, how you’d try to fire back some clever retort only to stammer and fall silent, just like the first time he met you. It wasn’t just funny to him; it was endearing, that quiet vulnerability you didn’t even seem to notice. And God, you were beautiful, even in that post-match haze, hair damp and face free of makeup, exhaustion softening your edges in a way that only made you look more real, more you. He wished he could've seen you in person; he could stare at you like that for hours and still turn back for a second glimpse, never getting enough.

He sighed, rolling onto his side as his fingers hovered over a photo on his camera roll, the one where you weren’t looking, too focused on a menu, brow furrowed like the decision was life or death, another one of you in his car, casually on your phone, followed by another photo and another. He couldn’t help it; his chest tightened at the memory of moments like that, the way you made the chaos of his life feel lighter. Then there were the little things: the protein bar with your teasing note that you threw in his bag during a practice one time, or the way you seemed to know exactly when to check in when you could read how he honestly was.

It scared him sometimes, how easily you crept into his thoughts, how much he wanted to be the reason you smiled the way you had tonight. And yet, even as the thought tightened in his chest, Ben smiled again, already counting down the days until he’d see you at the charity event, knowing it just couldn't come sooner.

The atmosphere at the event was electric, a blend of effortless fun and star-studded tennis. Neon lights pulsed along the edges of the court, casting playful shadows on the buzzing crowd as a DJ spun upbeat tracks that thrummed in your chest and made the ground pulse. It was far from a serious tournament, more like a party on a tennis court, where fans and players mingled, indulging in casual games and champagne-laced banter.

You smoothed down your navy skirt, the silky white bow in your hair fluttering lightly as you stepped into the tunnel, the buzz of conversation growing louder. A little blush, a sweep of mascara, and a touch of concealer made you look radiant but understated; the only jewellery you wore was the rose-gold necklace Ben had gotten you, gleaming softly against your collarbones under the venue’s lights.

“Ready to dazzle?” another player teased as she passed by, her racket slung lazily over her shoulder. You shot her a grin, zipping up your bag as you mentally prepared for the night ahead. But before you could take another step with your bag now slung over your arm, a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, tugging you back into the shadowed corner of the tunnel.

You turned quickly, your startled expression melting into a mixture of exasperation and amusement when you saw Ben. He was leaning against the wall, grinning like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Subtle as always,” you teased, arching a brow, even as your chest tightened slightly at the sight of him. It had been months, and somehow, he looked the same but different, more confident, more composed, yet just as unmistakably Ben.

He tilted his head, his grin spreading slowly. “What can I say? I like to make an entrance.”

“By sneaking up on me?” you quipped, folding your arms but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Better than yelling, don’t you think?” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence filling the space between you. For a moment, the noise of the crowd outside felt distant, the thrum of music fading into the background.

He let his eyes roam, taking in the bow in your hair and the soft gleam of the necklace he’d picked out weeks ago. “You look…” He trailed off, his voice softer now, tinged with something he wasn’t saying. “I mean, wow.”

You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth crawling up your neck as you shifted on your feet. “Don’t start, Shelton,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any conviction.

“What? It’s a compliment.” His tone dipped, quiet but teasing, as he leaned just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “Guess I forgot how good you clean up...y'know while still bein' all proper.”

You tried for a quick, witty comeback, but the words stumbled and caught in your throat when his eyes met yours again, warm and intent. It was like he saw through the polished image you’d carefully put together for tonight, straight to the version of you he knew best: messy hair, sweat-soaked, exhausted after a match.

“Ben...” you started, voice faltering as he smiled.

“Missed this,” he murmured, stepping even closer as he studied your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Missed you.”

The simplicity of it hit harder than you expected, your breath catching as he pulled you into a tight hug without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you with a sure, steady strength that made your chest ache, one hand splayed against your upper back, the other resting lightly at your waist, rubbing up and down with his thumb. Your cheek pressed into his shoulder as you let yourself lean in, your arms slipping around him.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him properly, your nose brushing the soft skin of his neck. He smelled faintly of cologne and something clean, and when he bent slightly to press his face against your hair, the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

Neither of you said anything at first; the hug lingered just long enough to toe the line between friendly and something more.

“Alright, lovebirds,” a voice called from behind, breaking the moment. You glanced over to see Tommy Paul strolling by with a smirk, holding a tennis racket slung over one shoulder. “Save it for the courts.”

You pulled back quickly, a small laugh spilling out despite yourself. Ben groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ignore him,” he muttered, his other hand still resting lightly on your waist.

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you looked up at him. “Guess I should’ve known you’d bring your fan club with you.”

Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing against your side before he let his hand drop. “They’re just jealous,” he teased. Then, his grin turned sharper, more mischievous. “Besides, you’re Mirka tonight, remember? That makes me Federer.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning back toward the tunnel’s exit. “Then let’s hope you’re half as good on the court as he is.”

His laugh followed you, rich and unbothered. “Careful, Mirka, I might just have to prove it to you out there.”

You smirked, stepping forward toward the light of the court. “Right. I'll see you out there, Federer.”

Ben chuckled low behind you, the sound carrying as he followed. “Better bring your A-game, Mirka.”

You both stepped into the event space, the pulse of music and hum of voices a vibrant backdrop. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed by, and Ben grabbed two, handing you one. “For courage?” he teased, raising a brow.

“Or patience,” you countered with a cheeky smile, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled your throat, a pleasant warmth settling in your chest.

The two of you drifted toward the edge of the court, lingering for a moment to take in the scene. Fans were scattered around, some waving excitedly as they noticed you both, others engrossed in their own games. The energy in the air was contagious.

“You nervous?” Ben asked, glancing down at you, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned closer.

You scoffed lightly, tilting your head toward him. “Pfft, not even a little. You?”

“Only about carrying you,” he shot back with a teasing grin.

You laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that had him grinning even wider. “Big talk for someone who hasn’t even warmed up yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours. “Trust, I’m plenty warm now.”

The look he gave you was so direct, so warm, it sent a shiver down your spine. For a second, you almost forgot where you were, his gaze holding you in place. Then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head. “Careful, Shelton. I might start to think you’re flirting with me.”

“And if I am?” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

You didn’t answer, the sudden heat in your cheeks making you glance away. But Ben stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You’re kinda cute when you’re quiet, you know that?”

“I’m not quiet,” you retorted, though the slight stumble in your voice only made his grin deepen.

He shook his head before he got pulled into some conversation, the night stretching out with laughs. It wasn't long before it was your turn on the courts with Ben for mixed doubles with fans. The game was as lighthearted as the crowd’s energy, every point a mix of banter, champagne-fueled laughter, and effortless coordination between you and Ben. You didn’t know if it was the bubbly coursing through your veins or just the sheer ease of being around him, but the nerves that usually gripped you on a court had dissolved into something bolder, something exhilarating.

“Hey! Didn’t know you could slice like that,” Ben teased, coming up beside you after you returned a tricky serve with a clean, low shot. His grin was wide, boyish, and entirely too charming.

“Didn’t know you cared enough to notice,” you quipped back, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

His laugh was low, his eyes sparkling under the court lights. “Oh, I notice. Don’t worry about that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away as he moved to stand closer, his shoulder brushing yours. A fan on the opposite side sent the ball flying long, and you let out a small cheer, reaching up for a high five. His palm smacked yours, but instead of letting go, his fingers lingered, curling slightly against yours to hold your hand in his big one as he leaned down just enough for only you to hear.

“Careful now,” he murmured, his voice dipping, his thumb grazing your palm. “Don’t make me think I need to keep you around full-time.”

Your stomach flipped, and you blinked up at him, thrown off by the sudden softness in his tone. “Keep up the compliments, Shelton, and I might start thinking you’re sweet.”

“I can be sweet,” he said, his grin turning a little cocky as he finally released your hand. “But only when you’re around.”

You were saved from having to respond by the start of the next point, though your heart was far too distracted to focus properly. Ben, however, didn’t seem fazed, his energy casual and relaxed as he sent a gentle lob to the next fan on the rotation. Between rallies, he wandered back to your side of the court, resting his hand briefly on the small of your back, rubbing it softly. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake.

As you finished another easy point, Ben jogged toward you. “So, is this your strategy? Win them over with that slice and then charm me into doing all the work?”

You laughed, spinning your racket in your hand. “Oh, puh-lease. I’m doing most of the carrying here, Ben. Admit it, you’d be lost without me.”

“Lost? Nah.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping just a fraction. “Distracted? Definitely.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than it should have. But before you could respond, another cheer from the crowd broke the moment. He stepped back, grinning as though he hadn’t just thrown your heart into overdrive.

By the end of the set, the champagne had smoothed the edges of your usual reserve, and the energy between you both crackled with something unspoken but undeniable. When you reached for another high-five after the final point, he caught your hand and tugged gently, pulling you just a step closer this time.

“We got a nice win,” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to yours.

“Mhm, and I got a nice partner,” you replied, the words falling out before you could think better of them.

His grin softened, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back again. “Careful. I might start thinking you’re trying to charm me.”

“And if I am?” you shot back, your eyes coy and big as your newfound confidence was fueled by the buzz in your veins and the way he was looking at you as if no one else in the world mattered.

Ben’s laughter was warm and rich, a blush spreading across his cheeks that wasn't just from the game. The way his eyes stayed locked on yours said everything. “Then I’d say it’s working.”

As the event wound down, you and Ben exchanged a few last high-fives with the fans. The laughter and excitement of the crowd hung in the air, but as the noise began to settle, there was a familiar, charged silence between you two. The playful teasing, the flirty glances, it was all still there, but now it had a weight to it as if the evening had somehow shifted to a different gear.

Ben caught up to you as you started to make your way toward the exit, his smile flashing as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, voice low and teasing. "Pizza? Just us? The rest are going to a restaurant downtown, but I thought we could hang out n' catch up."

You raised an eyebrow, the suggestion making your heart skip a beat. There was something about the idea of more time with him, just the two of you, that sent a rush through your chest. “Pizza?” you repeated, the buzz from the champagne still swirling inside you, but now mixing with a touch of curiosity. “After all that, you want to drag me to some random pizza joint?”

Ben grinned, his eyes full of mischief. "It's not random. It’s a little hidden gem, just a few blocks away. Trust me, it's worth it. You won’t find better pizza around here, Ben approved.”

You glanced at him, your internal struggle between teasing him and playing it cool warring inside you. There was something in the way he said it, an undeniable charm in his voice that made you want to go. The idea of quiet, easy conversation with him, without the crowd, the friends and the noise, felt too good to pass up.

"Alright, fine," you said, rolling your eyes but giving in. "But if this place turns out to be some dive with soggy crust, I’m blaming you.”

Ben laughed, his grin widening. “Deal. You’ll love it, though. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

The two of you began walking down the street, and the air between you seemed to settle into something new, something more intimate. The world around you felt quieter now, each step taking you farther from the noise of the event and closer to something more personal. With every step, the liquid courage from the champagne seemed to melt away, leaving behind a fluttery, almost nervous feeling in your chest. Maybe it was the lingering heat from the flirting, or maybe it was just that you were walking with him, alone.

“So,” you asked, trying to keep it light, but your curiosity bubbled through, “how many people do you drag to these random pizza spots, Ben?”

He chuckled at that, his eyes flicking over to you for a brief moment, amused. “Honestly? Not many. You’re the first one, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? I’m the first person you’ve brought here?”

Ben shrugged casually, his grin widening with the playfulness that was so typical of him. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. But when I find a place this good, I kinda want to share it with someone who'd 'ppreciate it, someone who's... worth it.”

His words hung in the air, and for a split second, everything between you seemed to be still. You could feel the warmth in your chest, the closeness between you suddenly feeling charged. You fought the urge to let it show, instead meeting his gaze with a playful grin.

“Well, lucky me, huh?”

“Lucky you,” Ben echoed, and his voice softened just enough that you noticed. He turned slightly toward you, his pace matching yours, steady and relaxed.

By the time you reached the pizza place, the small talk had faded into a comfortable silence, both of you still trying to make sense of whatever was happening between you. You hadn’t crossed any line yet, but with every moment, it felt more inevitable that something was to change. As you walked inside the tiny pizzeria, the smell of fresh baked goods hit you immediately. The cozy, intimate atmosphere felt like a world away from the high-energy chaos of the event. Ben led you to the counter, and even though the tension between you was still palpable, it had shifted. It was no longer the playful, teasing kind of tension, it was something else. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

You had no idea where this was heading, but with Ben by your side, you were curious to find out.

You walk back toward the venue, the buzz of the event now a distant memory, stomachs full from the pizza that somehow tasted better than it had any right to. The tiny pizzeria, tucked away in a quiet corner, had been the perfect escape. The laughter that had flowed freely while you ate had washed away the tension and the drunken buzz that had clung to you both all night. It had been easy, lighthearted, comfortable, like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

As the two of you strolled back under the glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between you. The air was cool, a light breeze weaving through the night. The only sound was the rhythm of your shoes on the pavement. Yet, inside, you both felt the weight of what hadn’t been said.

Ben’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he kept pace with you, his easy stride matching yours. But something had shifted in him, his smile softer, his eyes more attentive as he glanced at you. “You look really good tonight, you know that?”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “Ben, you keep saying that,” you teased, “What’s the deal with you tonight? You want something?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, genuine and unguarded. “Nah, I'm just sayin' 'cause it’s true,” he said, a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Your stomach fluttered, the compliment hitting you harder than you expected. You’d heard him say things like that before, but tonight? There was something different in the way he said it. Something quieter, more sincere.

“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. “I get it, I look good. Thank you.” You laughed at yourself, but Ben’s gaze never wavered from you.

Ben chuckled, his tone light but steady. “I mean it,” he repeated softly, then added, “And that necklace we got... It’s perfect for you, made for you. Looks really good on you.”

You touched the pendant on the necklace, the one he had picked out for you earlier, and it felt foreign now. Warmer, more meaningful, like it was holding a piece of the night with it. “I think you’re just saying that to flatter me,” you teased.

“I’m not,” he said seriously, his voice dropping slightly. “You really do look good. I mean you’ve always looked good, but tonight... I dunno, it’s sumn' else.”

You caught the sincerity in his words, and your heart thumped a little harder. Ben, usually the jokester, was being serious now. “Well,” you said, your voice almost breathless, “Thank you. I’ll take it.”

He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes still there, but it was softer. “Of course.”

There was a long pause as you walked side by side. The city’s lights flickered around you, the hum of the night settling into a comfortable silence. But then, something shifted. You couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“So, Ben…” you started, your voice tentative. “Are you like this with every girl you meet?”

His stride faltered for just a second, and he turned to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, like ‘this’?”

“Flirty,” you let out a breath at your boldness, a teasing edge in your voice. “Like making everyone feel like they’re the only one. Are you always so... charming?” You paused, gathering your courage. “You do this with every girl?”

Ben stopped walking, his hands sliding out of his pockets as he processed your words. He tilted his head, studying your face before shaking his head.

“What girl do I have around me or talk to, besides you, Emma and my mom?” His voice was calm, but there was an honesty in it that made your chest tighten. “You’re the only girl I ever talk to like this, spend time with. So no, not every girl.”

You blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really.” He looked at you like you were asking the most obvious question. “You think I’m like this with every girl I meet? I only talk to you like this.”

That honesty hit you harder than you expected, your breath catching. You hadn’t realized how much you’d assumed about him until now. His words made your heart race.

You glanced up at him, trying to make sense of it all. But his expression said everything you needed to know.

“Yeah, duh, c'mon, Y/N” he grinned, a sincere, slightly confused smile spreading across his face. “What makes you think I’d mess around like that? It’s only you.”

You stopped walking, your mind racing as his words sank in. “Wait,” you said, a disbelieving smile spreading across your face, though your brow furrowed. “You’re telling me, you don’t talk to anyone else like this? You don’t hang out with other girls?”

Ben chuckled softly, his hands back in his pockets, but his eyes serious as he looked at you. “Nah, you’re the only one I ask to hang with. You’re the only one I text first when I’m on tour. You’re the one I call to mess around with.” He smiled like he was telling you the simplest truth in the world. “So yeah, it’s just you.”

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Every word Ben had said felt like it was pulling you under, a current that you could no longer fight. You hadn’t realised how much you needed to hear him say those things until the weight of them hit you, until his words finally opened the floodgates in your chest, making your heart pound. Could it be that he valued you just as much as you did him? You let out a slow breath, the air feeling heavier now like you were standing on the edge of something monumental.

“Ben…” you whispered as you halted in your tracks, your voice unsteady but determined, a sigh escaping your lips.

It didn’t make sense. You’d always assumed Ben had people around him, always figured he was surrounded by fans or other girls, but hearing him say that you were the one, the only one, hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to try to verbalise the swirling thoughts in your head, but the words stuck, so instead, you let the silence sit between you. Then, Ben took a slow step closer, his tone shifting from casual to something more serious.

“Can I be honest with you?” His voice was lower now, the playful edge that usually made everything feel light gone.

You nodded before you could even stop yourself, feeling your heartbeat thud in your chest. There was no going back now, not with the way he looked at you.

He took a deep breath before he began, looking down the street before turning to face you.

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Like, I really like you.” His gaze held yours, unwavering. “I know it’s probably not the best time to say it with everything going on, with our tours and us barely seein’ each other, but I can’t just let this hang on. I can’t just let it pass and regret not saying somethin’ later. I’m not that dumb.”

He exhaled like he was trying to shake off the weight of what he had just confessed, looking at you like he was unsure whether you would run or stay.

“You’ve got this way of, like... pullin’ me in, y’know? I don’t even know what to do with myself most of the time. I try to act like it's all cool like I’m just messin' around, but I can’t stop thinkin' about you, ever. And I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who gets wrapped up in somethin' like this. But here I am.”

You blinked, not sure if your heart was beating too fast or too slow. His confession hung in the air, heavier than anything either of you had said before. It was raw, and it made your chest tighten.

“I know we got months apart, and I know you probably think I’m crazy for sayin’ this now, but I had to say it.” He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... It’s just you.”

You stood still for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The weight of his confession settled over you, his words still hanging in the air, thick with meaning. Your heart raced, and you could feel your pulse at your fingertips as you tried to process everything he had just shared. Ben took another step closer, inches away from you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was an intensity in his gaze that made everything feel surreal like you were the only two people in the world. His voice softened as he spoke again, this time with more emotion than before, his words raw and unguarded.

“You know,” he started, his drawl even more pronounced now, “ever since we first met, I wanted to be in your circle. I wanted to be around you, be close to you. But when I saw you with that necklace, and my hoodie, laughin’ and lookin’ up at me like that, God, Y/N, swear I could feel my heart meltin’ right then. I don’t even know how to explain it. It just felt like... I dunno, like everything clicked.” He paused, his breath catching as if he was just now realizing how much those little moments had meant to him.

“And when you told me about your ex, Jesus, I wanted to-” He cut himself off, a flash of anger flickering in his eyes, but he quickly controlled it. “I wanted to kill that son of a-” He stopped himself again, shaking his head as if shaking off the anger.

“Not that it matters. But what matters is that I want to show you what real love is. What real care feels like. What a real man’s like, y’know?” His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. “What you deserve, and then some.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, fingers brushing lightly, but lingering longer than necessary.

“Hell, if you gave me a chance, even, just, like, 20 minutes?” He let out a breath, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no humour behind it, only sincerity. “I’d give you the world, and more, in that short time. Until you told me enough. But I need you to know that... it’s real. It’s all real, Y/N. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”

You stood frozen, your mouth slightly parted, trying to catch your breath. His words hit you like a wave, each sentence making your heart race faster, your chest tightening as the weight of everything he said settled into your bones. You couldn’t speak for a second, lost in the gravity of what he had just revealed. The vulnerability, the truth in his eyes, the way his words laid bare a side of him you hadn’t seen before, it was all too much, and yet everything you hadn’t realized you wanted.

A sigh escaped your lips as the words came tumbling out of you.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you, but it was one of relief, one of release. “You drive me insane, Ben. Every time you’re around, every time you look at me like that, like I’m the only one in the room, it makes me feel things I’m not sure I know how to handle. I can’t even explain it to myself, let alone to you. It’s like I’m constantly trying to push it down, but every time you smile, or, God, when you do that thing with your eyes when you look at me like you’re the only one who really sees me…” You trailed off, the words too big to say all at once. You exhaled, shaking your head, but the relief was already washing over you. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not even close.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he listened. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the way he was holding back, yet completely tuned in to every word. It was different now. You felt his grip on your fingers tighten just slightly as if grounding both of you at this moment, a silent assurance that you weren’t alone in this confession.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold back with me.” He stepped closer, his other hand lifting to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath hitch. “I’ve felt it too. All of it. Every damn time I’m with you, I can’t stop thinkin’ about how much I want this. Want you.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process the depth of his words, Ben pulled you in, unable to hold back anymore. His lips found yours with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that took the air from your lungs. His kiss was deep, full of everything that had been unspoken between you two for so long, full of everything you needed and more. His hand at the back of your neck held you steady as his other arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, the warmth of his body sending a wave of heat through you.

The late night wrapped around you like a blanket, the streetlights casting soft pools of light across the footpath, but it was the brick wall behind you that grounded you. Your back pressed against it, your hands instinctively finding his shirt, tugging him closer as if you couldn’t get enough. You felt his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, in sync with the way your pulse quickened in response to him. Ben’s lips moved against yours with a kind of desperate gentleness, his kiss unhurried but passionate and purposeful, as if he was trying to pour everything he hadn’t said into this single moment. The world felt far away, all that existed was him and you, the weight of his confession still settling in the space between you, the understanding, the desire.

When he finally pulled back, it was only enough for your lips to part, breaths mingling between you, your chest rising and falling as if you had just run a marathon. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands slid from your face to the small of your back, holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath.

You were still tangled up in the magic of his kiss, in the rawness of this moment, where everything finally made sense. The world seemed to slow down as you both stood there, foreheads pressed together. The air between you was thick with something unspoken, your breaths were still heavy, your heart racing, but there was also a quiet sense of relief as if you’d both been holding your breath for the longest time.

Ben leaned in slightly, his smile playful yet soft, his gaze locking with yours as the quiet of the night settled around you. "You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "for the first time, you’ve got me completely speechless."

You couldn’t help but giggle at the silliness of it all, the way he always knew just how to make you laugh, how to make everything feel lighter. The sound of your laugh made his gummy smile widen, and before he could say anything else, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the night or the streetlights around you. It was just him.

Everything felt right at that moment, the electricity in the air, the warmth of his touch, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Maybe you and Ben didn't make much sense together to everyone else, but to the two of you, it was clear as day.

[piracytheorist]

Season Finale, woe is me T_T

Where did time go. It feels like yesterday that the first trailer for the season dropped.

AND THIS EPISODE DARES START WITH YOR HUMMING THE LULLABY

How dare they. Did I ask to be emotionally destroyed like this Yes I did

Bond is so happy to go for a walk with Loid! And Loid isn't exactly reserved with petting his huge dog is he.

I love how heartbroken Bond was over Anya saying she wasn't coming. He even looked back at her as Loid walked him to the exit.

It actually impresses me that Loid is training Bond right out in public, talking to him about where to bite and how much to make sure the target doesn't get too injured. I guess he doesn't expect the SSS to frequent a dog park?

I love the little pat Loid did on his leg to call Bond back. And then of course pet his head :)

Poor Franky's putting up with so much from Twilight, and he doesn't have to. I hope Twilight appreciates that at some point. I'm sure he hasn't developed feelings just for his family.

Sweet cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

Franky talks about how Bond may have associated training with his trauma from getting experimented on, and it sounds like brand new info to Twilight. I guess, despite how much his spy training has scarred him, Twilight has a hard time connecting "having bad memories about something" with "not wanting to engage with that something". After all, he'd spent who knows how long telling himself that he hated children because they're incomprehensible to him, and not because children crying reminded him of his own desperate times. After all, it's easier to do his job and keep training hard if he refuses to accept how soul-crushing that job is, right?

Damn, I got sad again. Because I imagine post-reveal Loid and Yor asking Anya why she chose them, and she says that she thought they were cool, and Loid has a RealizationTM that no he's actually very messed up and it's very sad that this little girl imagined that this devastating way of life could actually look cool to someone from the outside.

Not to worry, there's more angst I'll pull out of nowhere down the road!

Franky calling Loid out for not knowing how to relax and have fun >>>>

I love how after Franky left, Loid and Bond looked at each other like idiots. Old habits die hard, and an entire cruise of Loid trying to relax and have fun wouldn't be enough to break them, I guess XD

She's like "If I can't get real stars might as well fake some" Poor Yor continuing to clap happily even while Anya's origami star fell from her chest XD it taught her how to properly apply tape I guess, for later...

Pretty much everyone around them is wearing winter clothes, even Loid is wearing a turtleneck and a heavy coat. Why are those children in such light clothes eating ice cream? The boy on the left we even see later is wearing shorts

Guess an ice cream was an easy kind of snack for a kid to feel bad about dropping XD

Sweet Bond! He's imagining Loid praising him and telling him he's glad they adopted him, and all while Bond is wagging his tail 😭😭

This family is just four lonely creatures desperate to be wanted (even if Twilight is very far from accepting that) aren't they ;_;

Ice cream goes RIP and Bond has his (probably) first experience of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Look at him he's so 🥺

Later in the episode, Twilight goes all strict with himself for a laugh. Here though, he actually expresses distress and guilt for Bond ruining the kid's ice cream. He could have gone for a simple "I'll buy you a new one" without showing that much emotion in his expression and voice. In the manga he even has a typical "cold sweat lines" expression.

Or however you call that.

I don't know, maybe it circles back to any "starving war orphan" trauma he may be trying to tell himself he doesn't have...

I'm just saying, he was very expressive here, and he didn't have to. It wasn't a conscious choice.

Bond is really such a good boy. Every time he acts on his visions is to help someone else. From something as trivial as dropping a snack to something as important as saving someone's life, whether they're a kid, an old man, or a puppy, Bond is truly a very empathetic and caring creature.

However, the silly music playing over the vision of the old man getting hit was... a choice XD

Yet another example of the anime putting details to help the narrative: the old man is hunched, making him short enough that the corner of the wall/fence to his side is actually covering him. Which makes the biker not seeing him make sense, since he was behind the fence and appeared at the last second.

I actually felt shivers with the tone Twilight used here. Bond's behaviour is making no sense and is actually a first.

But also, Bond is probably only now realizing that unlike Anya, Loid cannot read his mind and cannot see his good intentions. He knows Anya would jump for joy for what he did, but since two of his efforts to help were met with reprimands, he's hesitant to try again because his trauma rears its ugly head and he fears he'll get kicked out. He probably doesn't understand that Loid doesn't know anything about his special powers, and so he can't let Loid's reprimands pass by him unaffected.

It's a bit similar to how he probably connects bad food with bad intentions, and thus fears that Yor will be mean to him, since she makes such horrible meals.

And so he allows the woman to get bird poop on her, but he jumps to action when he realizes someone's life may be in danger of the fire.

And first, I know we talk about how strong Yor is, but can we for a moment talk about how Loid held back this absolute beast of a dog?

Like, Loid allowed him to carry him around twice, but when he felt things got serious, he actually had no issue holding him back. It was only when Bond looked legitimately scary that he let go.

And that was... a shock. Have we ever seen Twilight like that before? Cause he genuinely looks like he hesitated out of fear... and maybe realizing that no, this time Bond is actually dead serious.

Bond probably didn't know what he would be looking for once he stepped inside the burning building. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one who thought that that "Daisy" was a child... but maybe Bond is more attuned to scents of other dogs, especially little ones that need help, so he could find the puppy amidst all the burning smells.

Badass Loid saving his doggo!

Loid doesn't hesitate to run in after him, either. Even the idea that Bond could be rescuing someone is enough for him to take that risk. I love how, after two attempts of what Loid thought was Bond attacking innocent people, he still believes Bond would have a good reason to run into a burning building and runs after him to help.

I mean, you also ran into that building to save your - for all you know, disobedient - dog, so maybe it's the pot calling the kettle black XD

How sweet is he, though. He really doesn't believe in reprimanding someone after the fact - Bond running into fire was dangerous, but it helped save an innocent life... and Twilight's priorities are very clearly shown in that reaction!

I love how man saves dog, dog saves man, and then Twilight is like "Wow your nose is incredible" because of course he can't think of another explanation, and Bond's affirmative borf there sounds like "Yeah sure, buddy. It's my "nose" alright."

Even though it's only Bond with him, Twilight uses "Twilight voice" as he assesses the situation, and "Loid voice" when he talks to Bond. Is this him putting on a mask... or feeling a little more comfortable around Bond?

I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO TILL THE END OF THE NIGHT

That was so badass! But then!

Miserable creature

Exactly how much water was in that bucket to make Bond's entire massive fur soaking wet XD

This is both so wholesome and, me being me, so fucking heartbreaking at the same time. Like, the other guy let himself laugh his heart out at how Bond looked, but Twilight barely allowed a single sound out of his mouth that he couldn't control. And again, angst is my wont, so it really ruins me that he's not even letting himself laugh over something ridiculous, because he can't let his emotions show... even if it would be totally understandable for him to laugh at that moment.

I mean, as I said, he showed genuine distress when Bond caused the boy to drop his ice cream, but he stopped himself from laughing even when the other guy next to him was laughing too. As in, he allows negative expressions when it's appropriate, but not positive even when it's appropriate and understandable.

I mean, he has been smiling at his family and looking at Yor like the besotted simp he is... but he doesn't realize just how much of his real feelings pour through his face, exactly because he hasn't realized said feelings. Wet Bond was a much clearer example of something funny, so he knew that laughing would be a loss of control...

Anyway what I'm saying is it's sad. He shouldn't feel he has to repress his own laugh like that.

Kinda sad the anime omitted this still-trying-not-to-laugh expression Loid has as he sees Bond sniff around.

Bond's voice adafhgdsfdgfdgd

Arsonist guy is watching sneakily from a corner while wearing a hat that has "Fire" written on it.

Dude couldn't have been more suspicious if he tried.

Pretty sick how he got even more excited at the idea of someone dying from the fire, when he heard the woman say how Daisy was still trapped inside.

Vigilante Bond! Arsonist guy takes out his knife and tells Bond to not be disrespectful of humans and my dude you're the one setting people's lives at risk and having a blast about it

We haven't seen Twilight in such action in a while, have we! Ngl it was kinda, uhm... 😳😳

LOOK AT HIM! So proud of his doggo 😭😭

He then says how it would be bad if either of them were in the news... and you're reminded that this is fictional but still pretty accurate 60s-70s so Twilight has really avoided getting any picture of him published. But also Bond could indeed be recognized by any of the scientists... and it's actually sweet how Twilight cares for Bond's secret not getting out. He helped Bond with his "revenge" and now he's acting to protect him from getting targeted again.

I love how Bond fears he'll get reprimanded for biting the arsonist's leg and not arm... when in the beginning Twilight very clearly said he can bite either a leg or an arm XD

BUT THEN

He tells Bond how "someone" will be sad if anything happens to him (Bond), (and we get a sweet af montage of Anya and Bond having fun together), how Bond is first and foremost a part of the family, how his working duties should come second and he should look after himself...

Oh it's gonna hit him like a brick wall when he realizes the exact same things apply to him 😭

SHUT UP AND LET THE BESTEST BOI LOVE YOU 😭

He's not gonna tell anyone, promise 🥺

And he ends with a promise to go to the dog park the next day so that Bond can have some long overdue fun. Yeah definitely a very detached, cool-headed spy who only cares about the mission not destabilizing. Sure.

The anime did offer us some extra stuff, though!

I love one (1) gremlin

I actually saw it as a knife, too XD

I love her.

I fully expected to see the paper puppets (or whatever you call those) fall apart like Yor's victims' bodies do XD I was not disappointed XD

Anya is still working on accepting that her mother is not very capable of not sprinkling "murder" on anything in her life XD

Loid isn't wearing his coat when they return...

I am amazed that they've had Bond for, how many months has it been now? And yet neither Loid nor Anya had ever seen him wet.

Anyway, Loid appeared back without his coat because his excuse was that someone had sprayed water all over them, so he took it off XD

But where is his coat even XD

Her heroes!

And of course Loid doesn't know Anya knows about the puppy rescue, so he's not that affected by the "Stella" and is instead going like "Yo but could you get going with earning those stars already". He's not used to getting recognition for his hard work and he's not about to start... yet...

The closing montage was so sweet! Especially with the holidays around the corner, it was very fitting to see the children having fun and relaxing, Yuri being very NormalTM, Nightfall and Franky having dreams for the future, and the Forger family having their celebrating dinner!

I love them so much.

And thus, the season has ended, and this anime only will start wondering how her Saturdays will pass from now on :')

I am thinking of doing more crack recaps, finishing my character screen time project, and probably starting on some fics... but for a very specific reason, the completion of those will have to wait until the next season ;)

This was a wonderful season! I may have rewatched every episode almost three times, but I do wanna do a "recap" full rewatch of the season at some point, and share my overall thoughts. I certainly have a lot of time on my hands for that XD

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

Taro Yamada

Name: Taro Yamada

Gender: Male

Class: 3-2

Club: N/A

Persona: Loner

Reputation:

Overall: 0

Liked: 0

Respected: 0

Feared: 0

Crush: ???

Strength: Incapable

__

I think there's a lot wrong with Taro, starting with him as a character. He is entirely bland. He looks bland, acts bland, and his character is all over the place.

For instance- if he sees a body, he will run away, not even bothering to bring Osana with him, despite his love interests doing that for him. Additionally, nothing about him says that he would bother running up to an armed, masked killer and rip the mask off. Not only would I doubt that Taro would do that as a person, but I believe that any lonely coward would simply run away.

One thing that I'd like to do to make his character more interesting is to give him a goal, a hobby, or a particular liking. This in my story will be books. Or, more precisely, the stories he hears in books. Growing up reading them, he has an attachment to them and strives (internally) to become someone great someday.

Of course, he's since grown out of super hero's, but his mind is still impressionable enough to be convinced to do something unique and meaningful with his life. That's why I think that each rival should push him towards doing something with his life. Additionally, him being so open to exploring could explain why he would be so willing to get with anyone who confesses to him (so long as he's known them for more than a day).

I won't put all of my ideas right here, but they'll be underneath the cut instead.

With Osana, I feel like he always internally felt held back by her attitude. By no means does he think that she's a bad person, but part of him always felt obligated to listen to her constant bullying. This kept him from trying a lot of things as a child, and although he's grown out of such anxieties now, properly talking with her about how she acted after she confesses could help motivate him to try the things he never did as a child alongside Osana.

The club leaders (Amai, Kizana, Oka and Asu) would push him to follow their careers. I imagine that baking could be a simple but fulfilling career for him, acting could let out his inner child's wishes to act out what he can't actually be in real life. I'm not entirely sure what he would do in an Occult Club of all things, but I'm sure it could feed into his habit of reading. Maybe he could become some sort of theorist? With Asu, I'm sure getting in shape could help him be more confident whenever he tries to be heroic.

If I could trust Mida to pick a less flirtatious and illegal relationship with Taro, I'd say she could motivate him to become a teacher like her.

The medical field pays well and you have the potential to help many people. Not only could Muja help Taro learn this, but he would also love to have such a well-off job.

I'm sure Hanako's clinginess and paranoia kept Taro from doing many things - much like Osana, but maybe with her help, he could become a splendid family man? Maybe he'd work well with children. (Don't worry, I by no means want Hanako to be Clingy to "keep her brother to herself." I'll explain the details in a later post.)

Megami could certainly motivate him to become a detective. After surviving such a possibly traumatic event, there's no way you wouldn't want to learn how to point out and investigate things like this to avoid other incidents.

Additionally, all of these hopes could make Taro's mental health deteriorate by the end of the game. If you had these continous hopeful thoughts being shot down plus possible losing the chance to ve in romantic relationships with outstanding people only to figure out that it was because of some psychopath you bumped into once, I'm sure you'd lose yourself as well (depending on how much damage is truly done). This could all pile into a bad ending where Taro "eliminates" Aishi for potentially ruining his life- and even better partnering with Info-Chan possibly.

[oblivionbladetd]

The Unfortunate implications of basically all of Lily's work: 99 tabs of tvtropes and a wiki.

This one's a doozy, but I'll be damned if it's not one that needs covered. As anyone who's taken a critical look at the infamous list of 100 tips could tell you, it's full of tvtropes jargon. While it will take a while to explain in full why this is awful, a shorthand exists that sums it up, "putting the cart before the horses." As in you shouldn't be pre-planning tropes at all, for like the concept of genre, it is often ascribed to the work in post. Though even that explanation is a little too economic, so as always, check under the cut for more.

I think a practical demonstration is in order, so let me set a stage. Superman has just recovered from being thrown through a wall by Darkseid, roughs him up until they are outside, talks about how dainty the world feels to him, and assesses Darkseid is capable of not dying to Supermans 'normal' and badda boom badda Bing, the codifying moment for The World of Cardboard Speech! Sure, there's literal seasons of context missing, and it notably doesn't include the ensuing beat down and subsequently bamboozling of Supe. Just him saying world made of Cardboard and presumably having the chops to deliver.

There in lies the crux of the issue. You always lose something when you boil down to tropes. As with the above example, all the little details on what makes the moment so iconic, recontextualizing the seasons of willful weakness, the implications that Superman is still not going all out and is just 'cutting loose' for the first time, none of that actually matters to the trope in a vacuum. Not to mention, one could easily break the world of cardboard speech into even more tropes or let it be absorbed into bigger, vague-er tropes.

Tropes have their place in making larger concepts more digestible and give valuable perspective in how and why these tropes crop up, but it's necessary to remember that even simple characters can embody dozens upon dozens of individual tropes! To a point that indeed trying to think about a character by just their tropes becomes an effort in arbitrarity, if not futility. Tropes are trends other people find in a work and decide to break down into small digestible chunks. Less a bible and more a smattering of quotes loosely bound together. If you are writing in accordance with tropes, you are almost inevitably trying to churn out a finished product first try, for you aren't making organic characters and scenarios, you're ticking boxes on a list. Making a personal experience impersonal. Never write with Tvtropes open.

This leads us to the equally important, but needing far fewer explanations, wiki's. Most commonly referred to as info dumping grounds for the fandoms they are built for. While being easier to sum up than tropes, it has the same glaring issue in that it rarely paints the full picture as its purpose is to speak the facts of the matter rather than live in the moment. Goes without saying that, especially as a creator, it is all too easy to pack it full with worthless knowledge and call that exercise in procrastination somehow productive.

That's when it hit me, and I knew I needed to sit down and say it. Lily has wiki's for her fanfics and tvtropes pages for them as well. The Pokemadhouse wiki, we have confirmation that she's actually did write it. The rest are only suspected, as unlike Lily, I have too much integrity to boldfacedly lie even when I'm probably right. Though enough being petty, for it hit me really hard in one key way in that creators are most certainly NOT supposed to be writing these pages, and the fact she has leaves open some unfortunate implications.

Firstly, if we are to assume that these exist as reference for Lily, that's an ill omen. It frames her work in the light of a dispassionate data keeper, for no amount of tropes will encompass a properly rounded character, along with forever fattening a public wiki page implies viewing every detail as necessary and that will be addressed in a future comic. Hell, even if Lily wasn't subject to the skewed priorities that the websites can encourage... it's still leaving your notes in a public space made for people to read. You aren't allowed to be mad that people say shit about it. Your computer came with the Notepad app.

On the flip side, the more likely explanation is vanity. It is in truth that having a tvtropes page and / or a wiki dedicated to your work is actually a huge honor, a golden glittering beacon of fan engagement as they compare notes and keep their facts straight. The fact that her tvtropes and wiki's are self authored as an attempt to fluff her ego or make her one of the big shots of the fandom world is as hilarious as it is utterly pathetic. And it is pathetic. It paints a picture of fanatical control of what people think and / or simply not being able to drum up enough fan engagement that anyone considers wiki tending worth the effort. It's literally a scam! "Look! this fic has wiki's and tvtropes pages it must be good!" Don't make me laugh. It's a chest full of medals of honor that all suspiciously look like glazed clay secured to dollar store ribbons with crazy glue.

With all that said, it really boggles my brain that people excuse the allegations leveled against Lily. Half-baked contrarian critiques and fanfiction's so unengaging that she has to manufacture the engagement herself? That's more than enough to just ignore all the real hurt she's caused to real people? The tales of Brittany, Courtney, Sunny, and Lizzy are meaningless under the ultimate creative potential of somebody who can't even both change the cadence of her voice when she's playing with her sock puppets? That somebody operates with this prolific combination of cluelessness and Vanity is just above consequences? You have to be fucking kidding me. This is why I'll be poking holes in her work. It's not that good, and definitely not on any level where anybody should avoid at least acknowledging all the awful she both has done and still perpetuates.

Pokemadhouse is nowhere near good enough, along with the things Lily is accused of being so heinous that i do hate to imagine anyone could look at Lily typing this in reference to a fictional caricature of her wife

And be anything less than deeply concerned.

[blubushie]

ABOUT ME

READ THIS BEFORE YOU SEND ASKS/INTERACT. ASK BLU ANYTHING DAY (ABAD) is on the first full weekend of every month!

MINORS: Block the "#blu lewd" tag OR I WILL BLOCK YOU and do not DM me unless it's to ask to join Blucord. This goes ESPECIALLY if you're 16 or under. Adults on the internet are not your friends, and I am not comfortable speaking with you privately without a third party present.

G'day fellas! You can call me Blu, and I can be invoked like some Lovecraftian horror by mentioning Sniper in the TF2 tags. King of Sniper Lore (and Australia), Messiah of Bludaism, also known as the "Sheepshagging Roorooting Horsehumping Mountainfucking Melonpiping 13x-Divorced Breastmaster Hitman Inenrt Dingoboy Piss Cheese Jorts Bludysseus Blu'nt Bushgod Sniper Blog" despite not being a Sniper blog (and not actually shagging a sheep or rooting a roo or being married to start with or caring all that much for cannabis, I'm a psychedelics bloke). I'm just Like This.

Been told I'm the "Sniper kin of all Sniper kins." Not sure what a kin is these days but from what I've heard I'm content with not knowing.

This is my only blog. I have three sideblogs. One is @blu-doods, where I post my shitty stick figure art for laughs, and the other two are @art-reblugs, where I reblog art on (I reblog art here too, but the pickings are far more slim) and @post-reblugs (same as art but for text posts).

Again, not a Sniper roleplay blog. That said feel free to call me Sniper as a joke because I do very much enjoy it. Just keep in mind that I am my own person and not a fictional character. There's a real person behind the screen.

Sometimes I go on tangents and start infodumping. You can find the masterlist here. Also please read my DNI list and check out my pronouns page (I spent so much time on it).

My ask box is always open to whatever you want to say. Questions, comments, infodumping, or whatever else comes to mind. I particularly enjoy things relating to TF2, astronomy, nature, classic cars, and weapons. :]

If you find a weird animal or plant and want to know what it is, send me a picture with the location and there's a fair chance I can ID it! ("Location" doesn't need to be city, just state or general region!)

If you're looking to do art or something of me, please see this post for a guide to what I look like and this post for my rules on what is and isn't acceptable!

We now have a Discord server! If you want to join just DM me, but please ask only you and I are mutuals or we interact often :]

My avatar was done by the incredibly talented @grumpygrumblet!

SOME INFO ABOUT ME

I have autism, selective mutism, and some other issues that aren't really important. Point is that sometimes it can be hard for me to talk or properly put my thoughts into words. This makes me come across as cold sometimes. I'm not good at communicating with words and I'm better at expressing it in person where I can rely more on touch. I apologise if I seem rude because I'm not trying to be. Let me know and I'll try to articulate what I mean to say in a gentler way.

I'm 23.

Bushstraight. AMAB transmasc. Weird bloke.

I grew up in Alice Springs and spend most of my time in the NT. On the first Friday of the month there's a good chance you can find me at the Daly Waters Pub. CU in the NT! (Not now though because I'm stuck in America for the foreseeable future. Oops. Try me again in 2025!)

I hunt professionally for pest control. Usually it's invasive animals like pigs, cats, or feral dogs. I'm also licenced to occasionally deal with nuisance native wildlife like crocodiles, but aside from assisting in relocation efforts I've yet to be called out for a crocodile. I'm alright with this—I really don't want to shoot a crocodile.

I also hunt to feed myself and my dog. Her name is Misty and she's an Australian Shepherd/Golden Retriever mix. You can see her here or by checking out my "mistyposting" tag.

I used to participate in kangaroo culls and by law I have to shoot them in the head so if you ever want to know what it's like to pop skulls, reckon you can ask me. Also on the kangaroo thing: if you're Australian and from 2020-2021 ate kangaroo or bought kangaroo dog food or leather, there's a chance I'm the one what got it to you.

I'm a bushie. This means I'm a survivalist who lives out in the bush. I technically live in a van (ute + camper in the tray) but if there's good weather I'm usually sleeping outside unless it's an area with a lot of dingos (they don't usually bother people but I'm not going to take risks with my dog). I have no permanent residence and I move from place to place for work. Occasionally I have to go into cities for work (I'm looking at you, M*lbourne) but these are thankfully rare occasions and only when I'm strapped for cash.

Sometimes while clearing a squatter's land I'll find Psilocybe mushrooms and take them back home and get high when I'm done working. It makes for an interesting experience and my favourite thing to do is lay on the top of my van and watch the stars for a while.

I have a mullet and I am awful proud of it. It's easy upkeep since I can cut it using the mirror of my van.

I've drank my own piss on more than one occasion. The first time was because I was dying of dehydration out in the bush and it kept me alive for 2 days until I found water. The second time was for science. Certified Piss Kink Guy. (Editor's note: I do not in fact have a piss kink.)

I have infinitely large balls.

I am a bogan. I am proud of that too. Viva la boganism.

I am Ameristralian. I was born in the US and came to Australia when I was 2 years old—both of my parents are American but my parents lived in Australia for work. I grew up in Australia but when my parents split Dad went back home to California to buy back my grandfather's station and I spent most of my high school years in California (years 10-12) and lost my accent. I now live in Australia with a very thick American accent so I get the "lost tourist" spiel a lot and I reckon I'm never going to stop having to prove I'm Australian. It's gotten me into pub fights before and will continue to do so. I had a stroke in 2023 and now have my Aussie accent back LMAO

I've been told I'm "Sniper IRL." (Cheers, bloke I met in a Sydney pub, for getting me into TF2 by telling me this.)

I fucking love crocodiles to a possibly dangerous degree. Technically I love everything nature and especially animals, but crocodiles are just something special to me. I blame Steve Irwin and the fact my favourite thing to do as a nipper was go up to Darwin with Mum during the dry season and go croc spotting.

I like TF2, nature (particularly plants and animals), astronomy, and history. My special interest is sniping. I also love science and medicine. PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT THESE THINGS BECAUSE I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT THEM.

I swear a lot. I will not apologise for it. Fight me, cunt.

Please ask me about the shit I've seen out in the bush. I have so many stories. Actually, just ask me anything. Just talk to me in general, please. I need it.

I like knives (penchant for Bowie knives and machetes), firearms (penchant for antique bolt-actions), and old cars. I think pre-1970 Land Rovers are pretty spiffy. I can alternatively be invoked by incorrectly stating what model of Land Rover Sniper drives. It's a bloody 1965 Series IIA!

DO NOT ATTEMPT ANY OF THE SHIT YOU SEE ME DO ON THIS BLOG. I AM A PROFESSIONAL AT WHAT I DO—ATTEMPTING TO REPLICATE IT IS LIKELY TO RESULT IN SERIOUS HARM AND/OR DEATH. DO NOT GO INTO THE OUTBACK UNLESS YOU ARE WITH A GROUP AND HAVE AN EXPERIENCED GUIDE WITH YOU.

If you wanna learn the rest of the lore, you'd best delve the blog. ;]

I can also be found on AO3 also under Blubushie.

A GUIDE TO MY TAGS

IMPORTANT BLOCK TAGS

blu lewd: Horny asks and reblogs of suggestive art. I'm making a tag for this since I've been getting so many asks from thirsty anons (I love you, thirsty anons). MINORS: BLOCK THIS TAG OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

haemocyanin: Usually reblogged gore art (blood is not included in gore, I'm talking viscera). Also includes discussion of gory topics. THIS TAG IS STRICTLY GORE. Please block this tag if that makes you uncomfortable.

blu slew: Discussion of hunting. May contains photos from hunting. This includes animal death/animal gore, so anyone who is uncomfortable with seeing this PLEASE BLOCK THIS TAG.

blu a fuse: Angryposting. Will include venting—if that bothers you, block this tag.

blus blues: Venting/sad hours/personal, generally depressive, journals. Basically me screaming into the void about how shit sandwich my life is. May include discussions of trauma so if that bothers you, block this tag.

blu jarate: Anything that mentions piss in referral to urine because it's brought up a lot on this blog (not in a kink way, just in general). Block this tag if piss makes you uncomfortable.

blu boos: A personal medical journal of sorts. Block this tag if talk of injuries disturbs you.

Postbin: Hate asks. Will probably include transphobia or homophobia or intersexism because people pick on the easiest things ay? Block if you don't want to see people clowning on me.

GENERAL TAGS

💙: Random thoughts or stuff from me. No worries, I don't ramble often. Also contains reblogs of things I just Vibe With that don't fit any of my other tags. Formerly #bluposting

💬: IRL quotes. Usually things between me and my father, but sometimes includes other people.

blu news: Updates on my life. This may include failsafes.

blu whos: Answered asks. Please send me asks or talk to me in literally any way as I often spend weeks without even seeing another human out in the bush and let me tell you it is NOT good for one's state of mind. I may not like people but humans are social animals and it's a terrible Catch-22. Ask me about my work or life or my fic or about TF2 lore or Sniper or literally anything please.

abad: Discussions or asks from Ask Blu Anything Day, a monthly... Event? Where some of my ask rules are suspended. ABAD is your licence to go nuts in my ask box, and the rule of ABAD is that I have to answer everything honestly.

mercposting: Catch-all TF2 tag. As I get asks about TF2 often, this is the tag used so I don't clutter the main tag.

blu drew: My sketches. I don't do digital art so all of it is traditional and usually of varying quality. It's typically animals or plants I see out in the bush.

blu bushie: My adventures in the wilderness.

🍄🍄🍄: Contains discussions of drugs.

🍄: Triposting! These are trip reports from the times I get high on various different drugs, but usually mushrooms. Also contains any posts I reblog or make while under the influence of drugs. (Formerly #blu flew)

🍺🍺🍺: Contains discussions of alcohol.

learnin the blus: Random thoughts/rambles regarding my fic.

🍺: Drunkposting! Contains any posts I make while under the influence of alcohol.

🚬: Contains discussion of cigarettes, tobacco, and smoking.

blu hoohs: NOT MY ART. Just stuff I've REALLY liked and reblogged. My own art is never tagged with this.

blus clues: Me speculating on headcanons and lore, usually about TF2. I love lore speculation.

sniperposting: Shit specifically about Sniper since I seem to talk about him so much. Also things from my life that Sniper would also probably do.

bushman: Reblogs relating to survivalism, bushcraft, camping shit, and general bushman activities. Also includes reblogs of things related to these.

blu planet: Reblogs relating to nature and the natural world.

blu zoo: Discussions of animals and plants. May contain pictures of things I see on my adventures!

stockman: Discussing my former job as a stockman.

🐂: Things relating to rodeo, and especially bullriding.

blu pew: Weapons, mostly firearms and knives.

true blu: Things specifically relating to Australia. Usually cultural things.

code blu: Things relating to medicine. This especially applies to bushmedicine.

blursed: Reblogged shit that I think is cursed. Usually text posts, sometimes images.

blusome: Just uplifting things I see and reblog. Everybody needs some added light every now and then.

blu spew: Funny things. Titled for me spewing out my coffee in the morning when I see them.

blu polls: My polls.

blu views: The VERY rare occasions I discuss politics. Most of this is either about firearms or rarely nature conservation.

mistyposting: Posts relating strictly to Misty.

moonyposting: Anything relating to Mundy, my emu. On this blog he's referred to as "Moony" so as not to have him confused with Mundy from my fic (or canon Mundy).

blu tunes: Anything relating to music.

blu chew: Anything relating to food.

recipe: My recipes and recipes I've come across. :]

ford blu: Anything relating to cars.

blu id: Posts where people ask me to identify animals and plants.

blu marbled jack: Anything relating to Jack. This is because I once saw him eat an entire block of cheese.

ask game: Ask games I find.

answered asks: Answers to things I've asked.

blubook: Posts relating to literature. It's a pun about the Australian boobook, a type of owl. Get it? Because owls are smart? And it's reading? Nevermind.

fanart: Art specifically of me because I get a lot of it (and adore it when I do)!

blucord: Discussing things that go down in the Discord server.

blu muse: Poetry I write (because apparently I'm doing that again).

blu misc: Anything that doesn't fit into the rest of these tags.

blu queue: Queued posts.

blu reviews: Submitted posts.

bluroarer: Things I'm tagged in.

smoke signals: Back-and-forth discussions in reblogs.

dozposting: Posts about my lovely lady, @eyes-like-iron-fangs-of-rust

horseposting: Me talking about horses. I fucking love horses.

dream journal: Where I log my dreams.

eminence: Me infodumping about DND/my DND character Redd (cuz Redd + Blu = eminence purple).

PMP: Info relating to my job as a pest management professional.

matildaposting: Me discussing my late 70s Dreamer camper or other campers.

🌌: Wereshitposting—late-night blogging I get up to when the world is quiet and I can't sleep.

Also I'm writing a Speedingbullet fic on AO3 because it's boring out here and I have brainrot so go read that I guess, cheers. Chapter 10 is my magnum opus.

Here's the link to the original F/M version of the fic, and here's the link to the M/M edited version of the fic. The M/M version isn't as good and there may be pronoun errors here and there because the F/M is my primary focus and how the fic is originally written. The M/M version is also discontinued at Chapter 7 as I couldn't work Jesse's backstory properly into Jake. Sorry, folks.

If you're looking to do fanart or something I have a reference for Jesse and Suki. I also have an appearance detail for the rest of BLU team. (If you do fanart of Jesse and Mundy together I will love you forever and ever.)

[calamitaswrath]

Cal Lucia plays Fire Emblem Path of Radiance: Chapter 8

Just two stray thoughts before I get to the actual chapter - one, for as much as I enjoy the game overall thus far, I have to say that music isn't really all that remarkable. The track that plays on certain maps when they are almost cleared is nice, but it's the only song I really enjoy (which is probably not surprising given that it also made it into Smash). The track that plays when Daein generals like Petrine are on screen meanwhile is just. . . silly.

Not to constantly compare the game to the modern FEs, but with Greil in particular, I feel there's def a comparison to be made with Jeralt in Three Houses. To be more precise, I just feel that Greil's death has more weight to it since the first seven chapters (plus prologue) of the game really took their time to not only set him up, but also his connection to the mercenaries, and how they play off of him. Jeralt, by contrast. . . he doesn't really interact that much with anybody, and since Byleth is functionally mute in 3H, the impact of his death solely hinges on the connection the player forms with him. It really works just better in PoR, and not just because Ike isn't mute.

Ouh, case in point! A flashback (that seems to take place in the exact spote where Greil got killed), a CG illustration of Ike and Mist at the tombstone. . . that's the good stuff.

Ahhhhh and Titania putting her own grief aside the moment she notices Ike showing up! Ike apologizing to her and Soren, thanking them for sticking with him!

And exit Shinon and Gatrie. Shinon was just about expected, but I am lowkey surprised that Gatrie left with him. From a gameplay perspective I can understand it, since he also was a pre-promote, but from his writing, he always seemed more onboard with Ike than Shinon did. But then again, given the 🏳️‍🌈 vibes between them. . .

Oh, the way Ike assumes responsibility. . . it definitely reminds me of Chrom taking over as exalt in Awakening. And, given that Ike doesn't have to share the protag status with two other characters, I hope that unlike Awakening, this gets properly resolved and developed

Soren is pretty humble here, huh? That's some of the basis for their chemistry then, I take it

Ahh, finally stuff like the convoy, buying items and supports get introduced. . . really rather late for my liking, but at least it neatly ties into the story here

Only got one support unlocked so far, which is the C support between Ike and Oscar. Good found family content in that one, though! And lol @ Mist's cooking.

"Info". . .? Not quite sure what to make of that menu point. But Aimee and Muston! I've definitely seen Aimee before, in one of those "Ike doesn't care about affection from women" posts. I'll gladly take her affection though

Jorge and Daniel. I have no comment. ...No, literally. They don't stand out enough in any way

Huh. . . the more I look at it. . . is this "Info" point just little bonus scenes? Just saw Titania's. . . woof. That's good content.

Ahh, bonus experience! I've heard a bit about that gameplay mechanic. . . and also already learned that I missed out on a lot on that escape map when I had Ike escape first. I hope that future chapters actually tell you what these bonus objectives are. . .

I levelled up Mia once with this and she got stats on everything except for resistence???

Well, doesn't that just look like another defend map!

Mist's medallion is glowing again. How unimportant.

Why, an enemy unit who's a cute girl and not the boss? She's definitely not important.

Three clear chokepoints, and enemies that just approach you one after another. Pretty doable. The cleric with the fire jewel tried to escape, but I managed to track him down with Titania and get the thing.

Mist talking about wanting to die alongside Ike?? Holy shit, that's dark

Oh my. Big buff cat man Mordecai. . . I remember a post about somebody wanting to fuck him, and then needing to clarify that they didn't mean a cartoon bird by the same name

Lethe! Honestly surprised that it took this long for them to introduce a catgirl. And she doesn't immediately trust Ike and the others. . . that's neat.

Ah. Soren does a racism. I did wonder why he's more divisive among some people, so I guess that'd do it

You know, for how antagonist Lethe was just a moment ago, she did calm down very quickly here, mission or not

[helluvabossrewrite45]

Hello, I just wanna say that your scene rewrites are amazing. Seeing Stars has got to be one of my favourites.

On the topic of Octavia, I agree that Viv and her team missed an opportunity with Via. To me in the context of the narrative, Octavia can be a tragic character that is screwed over by the writing. It is implied that she takes after Stolas with her love of astronomy as their form of bonding. Yet, she slowly watches her father drift away from them and is probably wondering if they—she even matters to him. You’re just watching a parent that you had a close bond to just leave you behind because they found someone else that captivated their interest. On top of the divorce that is currently going on would leave a child feeling doubtful.

I also just never understood why the writers want to keep having her being mad at her dad, even though they say that Stella has clearly been ruining the family, yet it’s his fault? Half the time the writing seesaws on Stella and Via’s dynamic because the only time she does care is when Stolas is there and…I get that could be counted as gaslighting, but the character lacks subtlety that it’s hard to tell when she’s always yelling. More often she doesn’t even care for her with two episodes implying this.

I just in general feel frustrated with this family because either avenue could be interesting if the writers took it seriously enough but they don’t and instead choose spur of the moment scenes that we have to use as jigsaw puzzle with some pieces not fitting because world building barely matters.

Sorry for the ramble. You’re version or fix it is probably one of my top favourites for the characters because I can definitely see the use of the loosely outlined jigsaw puzzle. Have a nice day/evening.

Thank you anon, im glad you like my rewrites

I agree 100% with via, they did the same thing with moxxie to her, that being repeating the same arc again of her being mad at her dad but forgive him in the end. It kind of shows that just like moxxie, they didnt know what to do with her which is a shame because the small details she has are there to be fully explored, but they never explore them. Like her and music, she oftens listens it even at the dinner table and with stellas reaction to the cheating affair, we can peice a puzzle of her doing it as a coping mechanism; escaping her problems through distraction. And with seeing stars main plot is around via running away to see a meteor shower, it would've been perfect to explore that side of her along with more knowledge of the family in general to piece this puzzle their giving (like the relationship with her mom, her uncle, the rest of their family, how they react to the situation, how their currently dealing with it, etc...) through flashbacks (since the whole point would've been that these issues wont go away no matter how much you try to ignore them) And yes, her closeness with her father drifting away is definitely tragic and its sucks that it wasnt futhered explored, especially with the entire goetta situation as a whole since were in season 2 and we dont even know how they reacted to it. It makes me wonder why even give us these pieces to solve properly if its so little that it makes it pretty impossible without theorizing from any vague info we have and thats not how problem solving works.

And yes, its odd that shes only mad at stolas but never to stella. I mean, i get she would be on her moms side because of him cheating but still with how stella is written, you'd think she'd hate her too. In this rewrite, stella would actually be subtle in her abuse to stolas in a way where you can still recognise it but also understand why other (like via) wouldnt. An example of this would be my first post where her and stolas confront each other about the divorce, the quote; '-or did you forget? Like you always do?'. Its meant to showcase her most common tactics, shaming. From her background (that i'll explain further in her own post), she oftens picks up things from her family, which shaming is included. She would shame stolas whenever he makes a mistake or does something she doesnt approve of (like if he wore a suit she didnt like, she would say; 'you know were meeting your family right? You think they want to see their son of royalty in that sort of wear?' or them arguing on how much time via should spend on her astronomy lessons; 'Shes going to be a future you and what, you wanna just, make her lazy, huh?!' (or even 'I didnt think you'd care that less for your own daughter....') See these are what you could recognise as shaming but also understand why people may not consider it so, potentially using excuses like 'oh shes probably right because its royalty/she just cares about looking good enough for her family' or 'oh she just cares for her daughter and her future' (ironically enough, those are kind of what fans AND the show itself use as an excuse for stolas lmao) but just because via doesnt recognise stella's abusive tendencies, doesnt mean she isnt upset with her. She very much is, mainly with stella's aggressiveness as stella developed anger issues throughout her life and didnt have anything to help it. Via hates it whenever stella yells because of course she would be, no one likes angry loud noises! Its just that unlike with stolas, shes not as open with her frustration to her mother because shes genuinely scared of her from that aggression that makes it much more harder to truly express her feelings about her, instead keeping it to herself along with her feelings towards how the rest of the family is reacting to it given that it just feels too much for her to be involved in. So the reason why shes only open on being mad at stolas is despite what he did, he's the only one she feels safe in being mad about (I mean, she does have andrealphus as someone safe to an extent though he's very dismissive of telling her whats going on with the goetias and definetly doesnt take being wrong well like stella so hes not much better) that way, it'd be more understandable and futher peice the puzzle of their family and their dynamic. Family itself is quite complicated because of the nuances it has behind it and i wanna incorporate that to the goetias were their not fully evil but tend to care about their statuses rather then whats right in front of them (that being them as a family) since i think its interesting to explore and wouldve suit stolas, stella and octavia really well.

No need to apologise for rambling, i like getting asks of peoples thoughts/ideas on helluva. Hell look, im rambling too. I hope you enjoy the future rewrites i have in store, have a nice day/evening too

[blimbo-buddy]

So you guys remember that one bloodclan au I posted about a bit ago? I want to give some info and a semi-summary of the au

Quick refresher: Fuego is Princess, Oil-Slick is Smudge, and Woodchipper is Hattie. I'll be referring to their Bloodclan names

-After the Battle Against Bloodclan, patrols are sent out to scout the surrounding area to make sure no Bloodclan cats are still in the area, fearful that a surprise attack may occur after Scourge was murdered. SandStorm and LongTail are both apart of Thunderclan's patrol team

-They both stumble upon Fuego and Oil-Slick, taking refuge in a shoddy old den (More like a concealed hole in the wall). The two cats could have easily driven the Bloodclan pair out of the forest but they felt pity and empathy cry out to them that they need to help those cats.

-Fuego and Oil-Slick are in bad conditions but Fuego is especially not doing well as her stomach bears a massive, heavily bleeding wound from the battle.

-In this au, warriors are taught basic medicine, so both SandStorm and LongTail escort the two cats to a better, less poorly made den/hideout to treat their wounds properly with their basic knowledge.

-Fuego's stomach wound is far too deep and serious for basic medical training, so, after some talking, SandStorm and LongTail retrieve CinderPelt.

-She's shocked that there are Bloodclan cats remaining in their territory, but quickly gets over it and agrees to help, stating, YellowFang always told me to help those in need, even if they're our enemies. No cat should suffer like that."

-Fuego and Oil-Slick are fairly resentful towards the clans (Specifically Thunderclan) so they really didn't want the help at all, they definitely put up a fight. Though if nothing was done for their wounds they'd both slowly and painfully die of infection so they didn't really have a choice.

-The pair of Bloodclan cats still hold on to hope that Bloodclan will simply be able to bounce back from the catastrophic loss of their own cats that resulted from the battle which is also another reason why they begrudgingly accepted help.

-Side note: Woodchipper is nowhere to be seen but she ended up fleeing back to Twolegplace after being knocked out cold during the battle and fell out of harms way but she does come back later on.

-OneWhisker is also involved as well, however, he's a little more involved with Woodchipper's side of the story. He helps her find Fuego and Oil-Slick because he remembers when him and Windclan were lost and afraid, but, FireHeart and GreyStripe has rescued them, it's only sensible that he hold onto the same beliefs of helping lost cats.

-Fuego, Oil-Slick, and Woodchipper all have different reasons and paths that led them to joining Bloodclan, but it all came to fruition during an incredibly low point in their life, which is why they clung to Bloodclan so much, it was a safe place for them and a way to help cats who desperately need help. Bloodclan was like their home, their family. -Parts of this au also delves into the personal lives of the three Bloodclan cats, what led them to join Bloodclan. Also the three Bloodclan cats suffer from some bad depression

[thatmaxcontent]

Give me everything you got from this sunburst is obsessed with starlight au NNOOOOWWWWWW.

Thanks bub xoxo

OH MY GOSH YESYESYESYES I LUV U SWEETIE THXTHXTHX SOOOOOOO MUUUUUUUCHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tysm for being my first ever ask ever, also!!!!! I am on my knees bowing 🙇‍♂️

OKAY, "HEATWAVE AU" INFO HERE WE GO!!!!!!! I'LL CRAM IN AS MUCH AS I CAN!!!!!!

This AU progresses much like the canon up until Sunburst joins, and a bit after that (long enough for Sunburst to make friends with Twilight, Trixie, Maud, y'know!), HOWEVER!!! There are differences! Buckle up, this could sound a bit confusing! (This is written in story form! Other general info at the end of post!)

Let's start with Sunburst backstory in this AU:

Sunburst was a single child, as was Starlight. Ever since he picked up his first book he was invested in literature, history and magic. He mostly taught himself to read after his single mother taught him the basics. He was highly intelligent from a very young age, which caused him to feel left out and too different to make friends.

He was four-years old when he met three and a half-year old Starlight. They shared the same struggle, felt they had so much in common they immediately connected underneath the tree casting shade to that golden brown wooden bench. Books in air they didn't notice one-another at first, but once they did the questions and recommendations began.

The children became inseperable. They read together obviously, frequent library trips leading up to their spot. They played board games, practiced magic and then eventually started doing more traditional friend-stuff. They made bracelets, went to the playground, they had so much fun they forgot the other kids even existed.

At this point both of the little children were completely normal, healthy, happy. So they were until they both turned nine.

One day, when the two were hanging outside of town on a hill over water practicing magic and reading, Starlight picked up a book from a tall stack to catch up on a hard spell. The other watched as she tried to perform it, succeeding for the first time! However the toll took over as she bumped into the books and fell off the cliff with them. The stream of terror caught Sunburst as he began performing a spell he had only read once. The adrenaline of fear led him to succeed, each book and Starlight teleported back up. He fell to his feet, wobbly, going over to his best friend to check on her. Panicked, she took some deep breaths. She was helped up, both of the kids swaying weakly.

"That... That was incredible! We didn't have time to study the spell properly, how did you manage to cast it?! You saved the books, you-... you saved me..." She breathed, looking to him hesitantly. "... Thank you."

He tried calming himself down like her. Eventually he let out a breathy huff as he hugged her tightly. "I- I don't know how, but I'm- but I'm so glad it worked. I'm so glad you're safe." He felt her hug him back, the connection unbreakable. "Me too, bff!"

Suddenly a bright ray of sunlight shone on the two, framing Sunburst as he began glowing a fantastical shade of orange. The two never separated, up until the scene was over and the glow faded. They both looked to his flank/back*, a radiant cutiemark filling his veins with magic and purpose.

(*In my humanized versions their cutiemarks are tattoo-like pictures on their upper back, between the back bone thingies :D)

The two hopped around with joy, gathering up the books as they ran back to town to tell his mother and her father. The parents raved at this knowledge, and without further ado Sunburst's mother signed him up for magic school.

Starlight didn't admit it, but she was jealous. It was even a surprise to Sunburst once he was told about magic school. While he was excited Starlight felt a sense of betrayal, the two sat down for one last hang-out before he left. On that hang-out they talked about how they felt about the situation, it ended with a promise to meet up every month at least once until Starlight got in as well.

That promise was never fulfilled, and letters weren't sent or received.

Now we transition to Sunburst's school years:

In magic school he started off excited. It only took him a week to be loaded up with so much work he had no time for years. Worst part was most of it he already knew, but had to do again.

Year after year he was burnt out more and more. A's after A's after A's he kept overworking, the enjoyment of studying was being wasted on things that seemed useless to him, boring. He had forgotten what home was like, he had forgotten everything about fun and comfort, reminded only every now and then as he found time to read up on new and advanced studies, ancient history, poetry.

He turned 21. He had finally moved to actual advanced studies, and after three years of that he figured it was things he already knew. He had exhausted his enjoyment completely. Dark times only got darker as sunlight didn't shine to his soul. Impulsive, intrusive, agressive thoughts had haunted him since a few months into school. It all felt completely pointless, and that was when it happened. He got his first ever B on an exam.

That grade served as his breaking point, all those years of talking to himself and repeating things he excelled at, and now he stumbled at something he could do with a flip of his head? He took time off of school, and it was during that week of free-time that he found himself locked to his bed. Book after book after book, notes after notes, he studied things he actually wanted to. But it felt different. The sentences in his head never silenced, and he had no one to reach out to.

In the light of an oil-lamp he reached for a book, knocking over his old bags. The ones he never fully had time to unpack. It was like a time capsule, he brought the oil-lamp close and began looking through.

His favorite books on history, magic... and his favorite ever poetry and short-story book. His head quieted as he saw it, he sat to the ground atop scattered literature and papers. He opened the book, seeing text written on the hard-cover's first blank page. That, and a photograph.

"I hope this book brightens your days as much as it has mine!!!"

》 Starlight Glimmer ☆ BFF

The photo, of him and her, just young little kids. The way they smiled so brightly, the way she looked at the camera so kindly.

A window was slammed open, the curtains aggressively swaying in the wind as sunlight shone radiantly in his soul. His eyes wet, wide. His head was completely silent. A smile slowly crawled up to his lips as he detached the photo from the book. His head spoke. He and it were in agreement for once.

That agreement was simple.

"... Starlight..."

His head exploded as he found himself chuckling, he read the book while keeping the photograph in his grasp. He looked at it every few seconds, smile never-fading. His soul bumped as the sunlight was shifting from gentle oranges and reds to something much different. A hue of brown and grey light hit his heart as it was coated in purple. His brain, it scratched at his skull. He grabbed a fistful of his coat and buried his face into it. The smile was so wide it hurt. He loved every second the sentences circled his thoughts, no objections to them.

And so he dropped out in the middle of his advanced studies.

What happened after? Where did he go? Well:

He went back to his hometown. He might've forgotten her, but he'd never forget again. Each and every spot reminded him of her. The library, the park, the playground, their homes.

Once his mother learnt he had dropped out she questioned him, however he assured he was more than fine. He assured he had a purpose, a plan, and what he needed was to see Starlight again.

"Oh, honey... she moved away a long time ago." She informed him. His breath stopped, but nontheless he continued looking around. He met Starlight's father, who gave him some of their old books, toys, artifacts as reminders. "If you find her, please tell her father's waiting for a visit!" He radiantly smiled, met with an equally big one from the younger. However, not related to him. Rather, to her.

He had recovered many memories, but there was one more place. With his bags he walked to the cliff where he got his cutiemark. He reminisced that day. His smile was uncontrollable, until his nose scrunched. He was suddenly hyper-aware of where his mark was. For the first time ever, he truly despised feeling it on his person.

And so he left, finding a home in the newly reformed Crystal Empire at age 25.

He made it his sanctuary, performing and functioning as any normal citizen. The library that was his home was overfilled with books, however there was one room that completely differed from the rest. His bedroom.

The shelves, full of each item he and Starlight ever interacted with. Pages, drawings, pictures hung up on the walls, even on his bedframe. His sheets were the color of her skin, pillowcase her hair, tables coated with old fabrics and sheets that used to belong to her. Most items he gained honestly from the town, from her father. Some were gathered through more particular means.

Now that was the true sanctuary part of his home.

No matter how much he studied, how much he did, how much he spent, it felt mild compared to the thought of her. Looking for her proved far more difficult, the only comfort in the world those bracelets she had made for him. They stayed on him religiously. He looked for her religiously. Her diary was his bible. She was his burst of sun, but it wasn't enough.

So he took looking for her far more seriously.

For some years he traveled. He finally found someplace with her footprints, a town at the edge of Equestria. He interviewed the people there, and the people spoke of her with hesitance and hatred. His head boiled at the despise, but his eyes glimmered at knowledge of her, especially as he was let into her old house to inspect. He grabbed her sheets, carpets, abandoned books, everything he could find. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus never retired as her signature fragrance. He then left for his home, still not knowing her whereabouts.

For the next year he didn't find any new leads. Her sheets were his world. Her scent was his brain. He studied and read, danced with a figure shaped after the most recent photograph of her he had gotten from the village. His only interactions were with he, himself and the projection of her. He daydreamed, spoke to the image of her, she was the only thing that pulled that genuine of a smile out of him. His room was almost the perfect temple. All he needed was...

The Meeting, and More.

One day someond knocked at his door. The mailperson, most likely. He waited for them to leave, but all of the sudden,

"Sunburst? Are you home? It's me, uhm... Starlight Glimmer."

He nearly exploded. He knocked over his vase, with the dried lavender and eucalyptus. He stumbled over to the door, his breath completely unstable. Nowhere near as much as his head, granted.

He opened the door, appearing as calm as he could.

There she was, right in front of him. She was so, so undescribably beautiful. Breathtaking Goddess, it was his first conscious thought. All of him was in agreement. The sunlight in his soul shifted to shades of purple and mint.

"... Starlight? Is it really you?" He could only say. But he knew.

The small conversation the two struck up, it was so awkward. Silences filled with nothing, hesitation...

So much suppressed passion it almost made him choke. He wanted to lunge at her, grab her into her hold, sink his head into her body so deep she couldn't live without him.

In his awkwardness he shut the door. Tightly clenching his teeth, it hurt him so much. Not the pressure, but what he did. He couldn't stand it, how could he shut the door on HER? On his air, on his water, on his body.

Before long, after much regret, she returned. She came in, and it took every string in his body to not cage her to the safety of his home on the spot. No, he wanted to see her truth before that.

Hours of conversation, of agonizing hiding, until finally the truth was shared. She showed herself to him, and he couldn't be happier. But it hurt, it hurt how he couldn't smile in the serious moment.

(The canonical events happen. Take note of the fact that Sunburst acts as he does in the show as he suppresses himself, so there isn't anything suspicious to anyone else.)

And after those events he had to let her go again. However, though he had responsibilities as a Crystaller he had a goal now.

Ponyville. Visit as much as possible, as quietly as possible.

Undercover, disguised, prepared. His room was flooded with photographs, items, and her very fresh scent. But his life still wasn't perfect. He needed every bit of her, and the pretend-games were taking too much a toll on him.

So one time he scheduled an actual meet-up with her. No extra plans, just hang-out... until he got an idea.

He befriended her friends, pretending not to note her sadness as he got along with them, had so much in common with them. And at the end of the day, when they finally got time together, she was pushed over the edge thanks to a word or two from him. As she ran off he just wanted to chase, restraint saving him in hopes for results.

And results he got. A form of new connection, a missing piece from her. And there it was.

(Things continue like this, stalkerish and subtle manipulation, aside that according to canonical events, until Sunburst becomes the Vice Headmare to Starlight's Headmare.)

From There on Out.

There's no official 'canon' to Heatwave AU from that point. I have fun from there on out!!!! At this point I need to mention this is all so incredibly unhealthy, I know it, and in no way should this behavior be tolerated or romanticized in real life. This is toxic on purpose, more as an outlet!

I don't ship Canonical Sunburst x Starlight Glimmer, because it's extremely one-sided. However I ship my (non-AU) Fanon Sunburst x Starlight, because I have made it not one-sided >:3 and of course the Heatwave AU is EXTREMELY toxic shipping, NOT for the sake of romance but purely as (again) an outlet, creativity and guilty-pleasure :D

I have an alternative where Heatwave!Sunburst traps and cages Heatwave!Starlight, an alternative where they don't necessarily depart, an alternative where Starlight gets her spirit broken and runs to Sunburst, as I said it's just for guilty outlet purposes so there are a bunch of different versions!!! But the one I listed is the most common base, though it can be modified as well!!! Just rather not.

POINT IS, Sunburst is a stalker. He is a sick, obsessed, unhealthy stalker in each version. Someone who got driven into that situation because of lack of outlets, help or options. None of his actions have justifications, no matter how much he speaks about it as 'love'.

Starlight is still Starlight, the same as in the show. However, depending on the alternative, she could fall into that unhealthy lifestyle as well, be broken down, or maybe she could escape his eyes... mmmaybe, best case scenario, evem help him? 👀 It's all up to creativity, bb! >w<

NOW!!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS, AND BEING INTERESTED!!!!!!!

Feel free to ask any further questions if you want!!! And my Messages are always open, drop me one if you want to become friends maybe X3

EITHER WAY! I LOVE YOU OMFG TYSM TYSM TYSM TYSMMMMMMMMM I LUV YOU BOO HUNNY MARSHMALLOW!!!!!! TYSMTYSMTYSMTYSM!!!!!! LITERALLY HAVE THE MOST AMAZING LIFE EVER FOR REAL YOU ARE SO AMAZING MWAH MWAH GOOD TIMEZONE TO YOU!!!!! XOXO 💕👽✌️✨️

[dollsonmain]

Of the ponies that were in progress yesterday and today, all of them are now at the "hair drying, waiting for setting/curlers" phase.

Two fakies had hair that I thought would be interesting or challenging and it wasn't. I have to remember to take the batteries out of the one before heat setting her hair.

There are still a lot to get to that point. I really want to whittle down all of the various piles.

I also need a way to double check my photo records with what is actually down there. An argument for cloud services or having a laptop I could drag up and down as needed.

Records on my phone wouldn't work, as the phone doesn't let me sort and store the way I need it to.

This is also something that database/inventory app I paid for would be good for but only if I remembered to actually change the status of ponies on the app, and I wouldn't. I do better when all of the info is on one device.

I need better inventory storage and better inventory management. Really should sit down and get that database set up someday, though unless the way databases handle photos has changed since I last built a databse, then the way I store photos isn't going to work with that.

I COULD change the way I store photos....

Right now it's like this:

but that's only for ponies I bought/was gifted to fix. They get shuffled around from "Working on" to "To Sell" or to my personal collection folder or whereever they need to go, and then "Not Kept" if they were sold, etc.

When it's a work order, they're like this:

with each batch of photos in a different folder with the person's name and the date they arrived.

Oh... except for those three folders of ponies that I never properly sorted and renamed... Oops forgot all about that.

Uh. Anyway, I COULD change up how I store the personal project ponies and do it more like I do the work ponies, but I would have to add the date to every photo's name so each pony's pics stayed together.

If databases use photos in the same way they used to, they'll ALL need to be in the same folder, including ones that were sold or were worked on for other people, which would mean needing very long and overly detailed file names...

...

Maybe I'll post some of the old-old photos to the doll blog someday.

-

I think the shelves are too shallow on those storage units I was looking at. Deeper shelves cost more. Going to continue trying to improve the space with what I have before committing to buying anything new for it. New-to-me from the thrift store doesn't count.

We need some of those kinds of shelves only sturdier for our storage room, too.

[indigowallbreaker]

Baltholst anon here! Though I'm requesting a different ship this time. XD Marianne and Claude for the hand-holding prompts, "grabbing the other's hand to show them something." Thank you if you decide to pick it up!

Baltholst anon beloved!! Happy to see yah again :D

(Currently accepting rare ships! Click here for an UPDATED info post!)

--

Marianne looked upon the flower with unease. It wasn't the flower's fault-- its purple and pink petals stirred in the breeze with well-deserved innocence. Marianne tried to come up with something insightful to say about it, but to no avail.

The Riegan Estate gardens boasted many beautiful flowers. Objectively, it was quite a lovely place. Right by the sea but protected from the worst of the wind by clean white walls, well maintained by a dozen or so gardeners, popular with painters and the children of visiting nobility. With the war heating up, however, there were few taking the time to visit such places. The recent fight on the Great Bridge of Myrddin had apparently reminded the people of the Alliance that they weren't as safe as they might have first thought. Today the gardens were empty but for Marianne and her partner.

Claude gave Marianne's hand a squeeze before tugging her towards a row of rose bushes. "You might like these better. They're bred to bloom faster and stay open longer. My grandfather explained it to me but I'll admit I don't understand it much."

"I've liked all the flowers so far," Marianne said even as she let Claude pull her along.

"Are you sure?" Claude pressed, a worried tilt to his voice. "You don't really seem to be enjoying yourself."

Marianne reached out to caress one of the rose petals. Apart from the roses perhaps being a bit larger, she couldn't see anything unique about these compared to normal rose bushes. "I'm not sure what this has to do with the war." Marianne's hand dropped and she turned to look at Claude, wondering what she had missed. What part could the Riegan gardens have to play in this conflict that he was hoping she would see?

Her confusion only deepened when Claude gave a nervous laugh. "They don't have anything to do with the war?"

"They don't?"

"No?" Claude scratched his chin, his normally easy smile turning strange. "But they do have something to do with a date."

"A date?" Marianne repeated. "So this-- We're on a date?"

"Not a very good one if you didn't realize it," Claude said with that same laugh.

"O-Oh..." Marianne lowered her head. The leaves on the rose bush looked smaller to her than they should be.

Claude squeezed her hand again. "Hey, don't be like that. I should have been clearer." His tone took on a teasing note as he added, "I just figured you kissing me when we went riding that once time meant you might like a date at some point."

Marianne's cheeks burned at the memory. The two of them had been paired up for a scouting mission soon after the Empire had attacked Garreg Mach, and something about the near-death experience had caused Marianne to act... improper.

Now she felt silly for trying to find war clues in a rose bush. A date, a date with Claude, sounded wonderful.

Squeezing Claude's hand in return, Marianne lifted her head and tried for a smile. "Do you want to try again? Dating, I mean."

Claude brightened. "Absolutely. And we have plenty of time-- it'll be a few more weeks until the Alliance lords figure out how many troops to send us."

"I meant right now."

"Now? Uh, sure! Where did you want to go?"

Marianne giggled and began pulling Claude towards the wrought iron gates. "To the beginning. Show me everything again so I can appreciate all the flowers properly."

The grin that took over Claude's face caused Marianne's own smile to widen. The lords could take their time as far as she was concerned-- Marianne wanted to fit in as many dates as possible while she still could.

[randomscropio]

Please read

Hi! Please read this if you are new here. My name is randomscropio, but you can call me random for short. My pronouns are She/Her, but I don't mind They/Them.

I am asexual and a MINOR so yeah, no weird stuff. I'm not going to show my face (as of now) so please, don't ask. If I spell something wrong you can point it out, but I'll probably notice it eventually. I do swear sometimes but, unless it's in a fic, it will be censored in some way (except for reblogs of posts that I didn't make (unless said posts are censored))

I am in a lot of fandoms but I mostly post about Wings of Fire, The Owl House, and Inanimate Insanity.

I'm taking pride requests. Just put in any character (yes even an oc) from any fandom (it doesn't have to be from a fandom if it's an oc) and what flag you want me to put in. Yes, you can put in ships. Please give me requests.

I do some animation but most of my art is not animated. You can make fan art of my ocs but please tag me in it, same goes for reposting my art. Although, if I put "DO NOT REPOST" at the bottom of the post, please, don't repost the art but you can reblog it.

I am okay with being put into tributes and edits as long as I am credited properly.

You can send in asks for me or one of my ocs to answer. You can ask about anything that isn't related to my personal info. You can also ask me to draw your oc just send in a reference for me to use.

I open up writing and drawing requests when I feel like it, but when they are open please send in requests via reblog, ask box, or mentioning me in a post that has your request. When submitting a request via the ask box, please put "request" somewhere in the ask.

I take writing and art requests for any fandom (if I'm not in it I'll research it so that the characters aren't OOC)

I am the creator of The Pretender comic

Good job for reading everything! Here's a cookie 🍪

Request status: closed! (except for pride requests (scroll up for info on that))

[finnooss]

★Pinned post★

I kind of forgot to make one of these but better late then never, right?

(this is really long btw so buckle in)

Hello! My name is Flimsy, or finnooss, or rabio/radio, i dunno you pick. My pronouns are mainly he/they/star/void/moon, or any other neo pronouns. she/her and it/its are not preferred but if they are used it's fine lol. I'm also a minor so please don't be weird

I mainly make fanart, but on very rare occasions I'll post oc art. What I will mainly post about will probably be the life series or hermitcraft, though that may change at a later date, but for now this is the case.

Feel free to send me any asks, no matter how silly or stupid they may be lol, I'm open to hearing anything from anyone. If there is anything that you'd like to inform me of that doesn't necessarily need a public response or if you just want to chat, feel free to message me directly, it doesn't bother me at all!

I have a Bluesky/bsky account ★here★ that will have more info in the acc description and links to other things, like my strawpage, pronouns page, etc.

There are certain fandoms I'm in that get very.. protective (?) over ships (*cough cough* SONIC THE HEDGEHOG *cough cough*), and due to the fact that I don't want to be harassed, I probably won't ever post about ships in those fandoms (maybe knuxouge tho, they're to cute to not post about at some point), but I may like posts about the ships I will not post about, and the ones I will post about . That being said, I may post things that have to do with traffic/hermitshipping because the community is generally more accepting when it comes to shipping. There will never be things like kissing, it'll most likely just be implied shipping, and I'll always do my best to properly tag any shipping posts. (One more thing on this topic, if the ship is okay, no matter if I ship it or not, if the art is good, I will like the post.)

DNI: Under 13, WSS, dteam support, generative AI/generative AI supporters, nsfw, proshippers, generally just a basic DNI

I don't know how popular people normally have to be to make tags for their posts but I'm doing it anyways because I want to so

for art- #finnoossart

for asks- #finnoossasks

for just plain text- #finnoosstext

This post will probably be edited later, but for now that is all.

★Thank you!★

[mygainyear2024]

Day 17 Several photographic perspectives on a cruise ship

I woke up this morning and as usual looked out the balcony windows, and did a double take, A huge cruise liner backing in to dock! According to some people I randomly spoke to later in the day, there were two yesterday, but I missed them as I was out of town. Today's plan was to collect my tiles and then there was no plan. I was going to have dinner with Rosie (of Halifax) tonight, but she wasn't feeling well, so we've delayed until tomorrow night.

I decided to go to the Marina to see if I could catch the water taxi across to Ferragudo with no expectations, as there wasn't much info online. Their last post in February saying they were back from their Christmas break. So for a start, I confidently headed in the wrong direction! Luckily I asked a lovely looking man early, as it was heating up outside. Once I got to the point I realised I had to ring to book. The man on the other end of the phone said "it is a taxi!" I'm sure he was thinking "stupid tourist!"

It was a pleasant crossing to Ferragudo (€9 return) and I was warmly met by the lovely Carla, the tile painting teacher. We had a brief chat about her upcoming holiday to Shanghai, she shared more food recommendations with me, gave me a hug and I was on my way.

While I waited for the return ferry I caught a glimpse of the life of the local fishermen. It was fascinating watching their weathered bodies. The men who caught the fish left their small vessel soon after docking and different men then pulled the nets off the boat and untangled the fish. I have no doubt some of that fish would be served locally, the coals were burning on BBQs nearby.

Given the water taxi could drop me off closer to town, my plan was then to try the old world, charming looking, Casa da Isabella for their traditional Portuguese cakes, but sadly they were closed (they were open yesterday, hmmm). I then diverted to find a dress shop I'd been in a few days ago, as I'd noticed a pleated tule skirt that I wanted to try on. And sold!

I then decided an early lunch would be good and went to the highly recommended Churrasqueira Guerreiro for piri piri chicken, but they are still closed for the holidays, omg! Ok, next stop Aqua Mall for the café in the supermarket, which is a thing here. And I wasn't disappointed, I had a pretty delicious amount of smoked salmon in a grain roll and a pastel de nata tarte for €5.19! And then another stop at the discounted section of that supermarket, damn they've run out of the dark chocolate brown rice cakes, so I purchased the dark chocolate oat rice cakes, €1 for 8 in each packet. They're quite addictive.

I spent the next hour or so finding a top and earrings to go with my new tule skirt and pending the weather I may wear it on my date with Rosie tomorrow night or save it for the Michelin star restaurant I've booked in a couple of weeks. The weather is quite warm during the day, ie I felt sweat running down my legs waiting for the water taxi at 10.15am, but then I just had the heaters on!

I've given up on decent coffee in Portimaõ. The best I can do to replicate a latte in Australia is to ask for a cappuccino with no chocolate at 67° and then I even forget my own instructions!

After getting the opening hours of the mercado wrong, I head to Crystal's recommended hairdresser. Crystal was the American woman I met with Brenda last week at The Chicken Tavern. Giselle can fit me in on 4th May and a regrowth is just €29.

Back to the gym, booked into Ricardo's TRX class, but Ricardo is not there, damn that. I will get that photo soon.

I've finished Scoop, now onto The Beautiful Game.

Tomorrow I have my much needed third Portuguese lesson in Alvor. Just to properly pronounce the names of each village in the Algarve would be helpful! Apparently learning new skills is useful as we age. I'm thinking maybe I'll find a language school in Brisbane. After Carla reminded me today that Macau used to be under Portuguese administration until 1999, I googled where Portuguese is spoken and some of these places are on my list....Portuguese is currently the fifth most spoken language in the world and an official language of Portugal, Brazil, Angola, Cabo Verde, Guinea-Bissau, Mozambique, São Tomé and Príncipe and East Timor. It is also used in Macau and in Goa.

Talking about new skills and thrills, I've booked a sea kayak experience next Tuesday at 7am with Filipe Tidy to go into the Benagil Caves. He was another recommendation off a FB post. The woman said her kayak flipped and she lost her phone into the ocean. That's not exactly the experience I'm paying for. I did have some text banter with Filipe today and he thinks, given they are double kayaks "probably you join me". And he said "until now everyone survived" and then he said "I am lifeguard so you lucky". I responded with "I'll probably die from a heart attack first after all the bread and cheese and oil I've eaten".

[lonewolflink]

How do you decide when to end a chapter? Do you aim for an approx word count or is the division of chapters solely based on content? Really enjoying hockey AU!

hi anon! glad you're enjoying hockey au :)

i'd say it's sort of both approx word count and content? sort of a vibes based approach that incorporates both? it's mostly content/serving the story properly, but the content so far has tracked a pretty consistent pattern.

like most of my chapters have been around 5k words plus or minus 1k. i haven't been AIMING for 5k, but the content of the story has tended to divide pretty nicely into 5k chunks like that. i anticipate most chapters will be around that length, just because that seems to be where i like to end a chapter instinctively.

however!!! i already know that there will be some bigger chapters (i have them labeled "monster chapter" in my organization document). those are gonna be significantly longer, and i want them together in one chapter because it i don't want to disrupt the flow of the action by breaking it up into two chunks. i think it would do a disservice to the story. so in those cases, content very clearly trumps any consideration of length, and i even know that in advance.

i can say more about my thought process specifically for this last chapter, but i'll put that under the cut.

in the case of ch. 4 (just posted) and ch. 5 (upcoming chapter), i basically realized i wanted to add a bunch of scenes before training camp to flesh out the world, keep characterization consistent, and do a better job setting up some of the dynamics in training camp itself.

like it didn't make sense to me that jihyo, who i'm characterizing as a great leader, wouldn't reach out to ryujin even once before training camp even though she put in all this effort to give the freshmen mentors, welcome packets, etc. obviously she's not gonna baby ryujin in that same way, since she's a junior, but there's no way she doesn't put in some effort. so that's why i wrote the first part of ch. 4.

the middle/last part of ch. 4, lia's social guide to jypu hockey, was something i realized i needed to make for a couple of reasons. first, it makes sense for the characters; ryujin has gotten a lay of the land hockey-wise, at least on paper, but she's still kind of a social outsider.

at this point in the story, ryujin is very much in like...a data gathering phase, so that she can figure out what she needs to do to find success at jypu (both on and off the ice). we've seen that she's not too prideful to ask for help/info from chaer, so i think there's no way she wouldn't ask one of her two new friends about the personalities of her teammates at some point before training camp. and she had just started becoming friendly with lia, so i kind of tried to kill two birds with one stone there; get ryujin the information she wanted/needed (esp. re: lily, sana, and dahyun), but also solidify her friendship with lia like i did her friendship with chaer in ch. 3.

plus, the set up of the party scene allowed me to put in some easter eggs, a little bit of foreshadowing (some of which people have caught, some of which people absolutely missed), and even give a taste of lia's dynamic with chaeryeong (feeding my own need for this to be an OT5 fic lol). in general, i want the ensemble cast to be at least somewhat fleshed out before the season starts in earnest with yeji in ch. 6, so ch. 4 and 5 are both doing that in different ways.

initially, the content of ch. 4 was just gonna be kind of the introductory section of ch. 5, but then those scenes hit 5k and i was like "oh this is actually kind of an independent set up chapter, and the fact that i just hit the 5k mark is a clear indicator of that. i want the training camp chapter to really be its own thing, but if i leave these together as a monster chapter it's kinda too long and the flow is weird".

so, i ended up deciding to split them up, which i still think was the right call because ch. 5 as it currently stands is already past 7k and i still have another long-ish (...ryeji!) scene left to write.

anyway that's my long ramble, hope my thought process isn't too hard to follow lol

it makes sense in my head i swear!!