#I kind of miss the black hair era a little bit

[austinslounge]

found photos ive never seen , just thought id share

Omg 😲 😱

Thanks girlie! I've never seen any of these pictures before either! That's awesome! 😃

Thank you so much for sharing. These are all new to me. ❤️

(Omg his eyessss in the first pic 🫠🥵)

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 3

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Dirty thoughts, bit of dirty talk. More lusting. 😁

Word Count: 2,064

A/N: Here's Ch. 3. This one's a bit shorter, but I hope you enjoy it just the same! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

"Miss Y/N!" The frustrated voice of little Lucy Winchester called Y/N back to the present.

"I'm sorry, Lucy, my mind was off on a wander. What do you need?"

"I said my laces are untied." Lucy said, lifting her little foot and plunking it into Y/N's lap. "Where was your mind wandering?"

Y/N's face went red and she knew she could never truthfully tell this darling, innocent little girl that her thoughts had been completely occupied with a pair of burning green eyes and a wicked mouth.

"I was hoping that you might go gather as many daisies as you possibly could for me. There's a big patch of them just at the bottom of the hill, see?"

Lucy nodded and ran off, her chubby little legs churning. Y/N worried for a minute that she'd end up going head over heels down the little hill. But she managed to stay upright and settle herself in the patch of daisies to start collecting.

Y/N had to shake her head. She had been reliving the previous night over and over again. Every touch, every press of Dean's lips against hers had been streaming through her mind without ceasing. Her dreams had been filled with his strong, nimble fingers running themselves over her body and his mouth, warm and wet, following the trail. She had woken with a gasp, her body sweaty and shaking. She didn't even try to go back to sleep. She was too jittery and tense, like there was an itch she couldn't scratch.

She'd been restless all day and she'd finally suggested to Lucy that they come outside and get some fresh air. It wasn't helping her very much.

She bowed out of supper that night. There was no way she would be able to sit across the table from Dean and still manage to eat anything. Sophie was kind enough to bring a tray to her bedroom, but Y/N simply didn't have the appetite.

She had come to a decision and she was desperate for midnight to come.

At the last chime of the grandfather clock in the hall, Y/N checked on Lucy before slipping out of the nursery and heading down the stairs to reach the guest bedroom where Dean was staying.

She was grateful that Jessica and Sam slept in a suite on the opposite side of the house upstairs. They were unlikely to hear her. She'd already decided that if they happened to catch her, she would tell them she couldn't sleep and had gone to the library for a book.

But she met no one as she approached Dean's door. She looked around furtively in the dark, making sure no one was watching. She stood for a moment more, considering turning around and running right back to her room. But instead she knocked almost silently on the door.

It opened and she dashed inside without even looking at Dean. She got to the middle of the spacious room and stopped. She heard the door click behind her and turned around to see Dean leaning against it. He turned the key in the lock and she swallowed hard.

He wore black pants with the suspenders hanging at his hips and a white short sleeved undershirt that hugged tight to his broad shoulders, and showed Y/N the thick, ropey muscles in his arms. His hair was tousled and a little damp as though he'd just washed it. He wore his crooked smile and his eyes bore into her from across the room. They were so dark a green they looked like jade. He had his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the door and Y/N knew that she would picture him like this, always.

"I didn't think you'd come." He said, his voice a low, quiet rumble. He pushed away from the door and came to where she stood, frozen in place.

He studied her for a minute, his head cocked slightly to the side before stepping away abruptly. "You need alcohol."

He crossed over to his dresser; on top, a few decanters of different colored liquids sparkled in the candlelight.

Y/N shook her head. "I don't drink."

He poured something golden into a glass and brought it to her. "Well, it's a night for firsts." He said, smiling slowly as he handed her the glass.

Y/N swallowed hard before taking a sip of the drink. She promptly broke into a fit of coughing. The alcohol felt like swallowing fire. After the coughing ceased however, Y/N could feel a steadying kind of warmth spreading through her stomach and she took another sip, gasping as it burned its way down her throat.

She gave the remainder back to Dean and turned away from him, moving to sit on the window seat that faced his bed as well as the door beyond it. She tried to ignore the bed and focus on the door.

Dean set the glass back down and walked toward her again. She held up a hand and he stopped about two feet away from her. She took a deep breath.

"I've come here because I have a favor to ask."

He crossed his arms again and stared down at her. "I thought you were here because I won the bet."

"That's right." Y/N said, her breath hitched in her throat. "I lost and you requested that I come here tonight at midnight. So, I am here, and my debt is paid."

She chanced a look at him. He stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then suddenly, he chuckled. "You're right. I'll have to make sure my next request is very…detailed."

His expression made her shiver and her body screamed at her to ask him for his next request. So she spoke quickly before her wantonness could win over her better nature.

"So, my favor is this, if I tell you that you've won, will you stop trying to seduce me?"

Dean looked surprised and took a moment before answering her with a question. "What do you mean, 'if you tell me I've won'?"

Y/N looked down at her twisted hands in her lap. "I mean that you're doing this as a game, yes? Doing it to see if you can win over the proper little spinster, if you can convince me to abandon my morals and give into hedonism with you? Isn't that what you want?"

In spite of her stomach twisting itself into knots she held Dean's penetrating gaze. She watched surprise and then anger creep into his expression.

"No, not really." He said, his voice low and somewhat intimidating.

Y/N gave him a disbelieving look, her voice scornful. "Oh, really? Then what exactly do you want."

He strode up to her and tipped up her chin with his forefinger. He spoke slowly, but without hesitation. "Actually, what I want, is to pull off these clothes that hide you from me, toss you onto my bed and touch, kiss and lick every inch of your soft, yielding flesh until I have you calling out my name and begging for a release only I can give you."

Y/N's breath came quick and fast, and she couldn't slow it down; her heart beat so fast she could hear her blood rushing in her ears. Her skin was flushed and covered in gooseflesh, and her stomach tightened in a way that made her long to acquiesce to every word he just said.

His eyes were now a deep forest green and they bore into hers for a moment more before he shrugged and moved back to lean against one of his bedposts. "You wanted details."

Y/N shook her head and brought her hands, which were like ice, to her cheeks to cool the fiery blush that she now wore.

"Please." She said, aware that she sounded as if she was begging, and maybe she was. "I have nothing."

She raised her eyes back to his, hoping to make him understand.

"I am nearly twenty six years old. I am very firmly on the shelf, I know, well past marriageable age. But there is this ridiculous part of me that can't stop hoping."

She sighed and looked back down at her lap. "I want a home of my own, children that are mine to raise, and a husband who is kind and compatible. But in addition to my spinsterhood, I would come into any marriage with absolutely nothing to offer. I have no status, no money, no dowry of any kind, no good name, no position in society. I have nothing to offer a future husband except…" She paused and blushed harder. "…my…virtue. All I have to give him is my chastity. It's all I have left."

She looked back into his eyes, wanting him to understand the truth in her words. "But you want me to throw that away on someone who will be gone in less than a week. You will forget me in a day, and I will live with the consequences of this one night for the rest of mine. So…"

She paused again and took a deep breath. "So, I came here tonight to tell you that you have won. You have made me dream about you, fantasize about you. You've made me long to kiss you, you've made me understand just what a kiss should be. My skin is always on fire and longing to feel your touch."

Y/N looked into Dean's clear, warm gaze and admitted, "I want you, Dean. I want you to do all the things you just mentioned, and a million more things that are only half-formed in my mind. So you win. And now I'm asking you to please respect my wishes and stop. Pass these last few days with your family and allow me to go about my life."

Dean was silent for a long time, head cocked and staring into her. Y/N held his gaze as long as she could before the intensity was too much and she turned her head away.

Dean came and sat beside her on the window seat and she jumped up and bolted away from him, out of instinct, out of self-preservation.

Dean looked hurt. "Do you really think I'm going to attack you, or molest you in some way?"

She shook her head fiercely. "No! Not in the slightest. If that was the kind of man you were, you've had plenty of opportunities before tonight." She shook her head again, "No, Dean. I am afraid of myself when you're so close. I'm afraid I'll attack you."

Dean gave a small smile. "You can't possibly believe what you're saying. You can't possibly think that your virginity is all you have to offer some unknown future husband."

Y/N merely shrugged.

Dean stood up and moved a step toward her. Y/N took two steps backwards towards the door.

He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine, Y/N. If you don't want to be pursued, I won't pursue you. I'll leave you alone, you have my word. But I want you to remember something long after I'm gone from here."

He walked forward a few more steps and Y/N backed herself up against the door. He reached her and caught her chin in his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. The perfect planes and angles of his face were set into an expression of intensity.

"You have so much more to offer. You are extraordinarily beautiful. You are witty and warm. You have a kind and compassionate heart. You deserve something more than a compatible husband and a cottage somewhere. You deserve more than mere contentment."

He paused and brushed his thumb lightly across her bottom lip. "You deserve passion and romance. You deserve joy and excitement, adventure and enrichment. You should live in luxury, and have a life that fulfills you. I wish all of those things for you and more."

He leaned down and pressed an all too brief kiss to Y/N's lips, before reaching around her to turn the key and open the door for her.

She ran out and up the stairs before she could wrap her arms around his neck and beg him to grant all of those wishes for her.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

[mustainegf]

heyy I just found your page and you're talented as hell! I wanted to send in a little request.

ok so, 80s or RTL era James and reader are best friends, they are having a sleepover,then she wakes sweating profusely because of a nightmare. she tries to sleep again, she tosses and turns on the bed bit thats doesn't work,and finally wakes James. when he notices how afraid she is, he tries comforting her.

This is fucking adorable, lets be honest we all know they have crushes on each other

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁸⁴

I threw the frayed, flimsy sleeping bag on the floor of James's bedroom, directly next to his bed. I didn't mind that the fabric was nearly threadbare and provided little comfort. All that mattered was that I was at James's house.

Though it was equally ancient and lumpy as the sleeping bag, I gratefully accepted James's insistence on lending me an extra pillow. I gave it a tight grip and stared up at him, enjoying the feel of the velvety material on my cheek.

With a cheeky smile on his face, James was lying flat on his bed and staring at me. The little lamp on his bedside table created a soft, yellow glow that warmed the space and gave it a cozy, personal feel.

His guitar rested against the far corner, and his hanging posters of metal bands lined the walls. I could let my guard down and be who I am here and it felt like a second home.

"Do you remember that time Lars tried to balance on one leg and play drums?" James commented, amusement alive in his eyes.

I burst into giggles, burying my face in the pillow. “Oh God, yes... He almost took out the entire drum set.”

James laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made my heart swell. “He’s such a dumbass. I don’t know how he stays upright most of the time, let alone play drums.”

Each story was funnier than the last, and before long, we were both crying with laughter. That kind of chuckle that just makes everything a bit better.

“Hey, you know what’s weird?” James spoke abruptly, his tone now gentler. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.”

I noticed the vulnerable expression on his face as I glanced up at him. "Neither can I," I said. "Recently, life has been so busy. It's I've missed hanging out.

James gave a nod, fixing his gaze on mine. There was a brief but comfortable silence during which we simply exchanged glances and knew everything about the other without any words being spoken.

"I love you being here," he muttered.

I answered, "Always," reaching up to give him a firm squeeze. "I wouldn't be anywhere else, you know that."

He smiled, that lopsided grin that always made my heart miss a beat. As the hours passed, our voices became softer and our words became shorter.

I was really happy as I snuggled onto the extra pillow he'd given me. The fact that I was lying on the floor in a tacky sleeping bag didn't matter. It mattered that James and I were together in this utterly perfect moment. The things that brought beauty to life , was this, James.

With drooping eyelids, I whispered a, "Goodnight, James."

He breathed back, "Goodnight," his voice low with drowsiness.

And then, with the comfort of the man beside me, I allowed myself drift off.

I startled awake, breathing urgently and shallowly as my heart hammered in my chest. Sweat was pouring down my face and the flimsy sleeping bag was sticking to my skin.

The nightmare that had pulled me from sleep had left my mind a disorganized mix of visuals, but they were beginning to fade into the shadows, leaving me with nothing but an uneasy sense of dread.

I sat up and attempted to calm my breathing while sliding a shaking hand through my hair. The only sound in the pitch black, silent room was James's even, gentle breathing from his bed.

I looked across at him and felt an ocean of relief when I noticed how unbothered he was. The last thing I wanted was to wake him up, especially being the one crashing at his place.

I took a deep breath, pulled my knees up to my chest, and tried to push the nightmare's last fragments away. The hard, cold floor felt even more unforgiving at this point. I lay back down, clutching James' lumpy pillow to my chest, inhaling his scent.

I forced myself to go back to sleep and closed my eyes. I rolled around on the hard floor, attempting to find any spot that was comfortable. I felt as though the cold seeped through the sleeping bag, causing me to be cooled to the bone. The bag provided very little to cushion me.

I let the pattern of James's steady breathing relax me as I concentrated on it. Slow and steady, in and out. My breath matched his. But sleep eluded me no matter how hard I tried.

All I want in this moment is James. My James.

After a while I quit  trying to make it work and just laid there, gazing upwards.

I finally reached my breaking point. I needed to feel safe, to feel warmth, to feel… James. I staggered upright, making the room to spin a little as I moved. I trembled as I knelt over his bed and gave him a little shoulder shake without thinking twice.

Whispering, "James," my voice wavered. "James, wake up."

He slolwly stirred awake, peering at me in the half light as he opened his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked his voice sluggish from sleep but immediately worried. "Are you okay?"

My eyes filled with tears, and I shook my head, incapable to think of anything to say. Rather, I naturally moved my body to rest next to him. I needed his warmth and comfort, I needed to be near him. I tugged him closer, pressing my face against his chest and gripping his shirt tightly.

James didn't hesitate for a second. He wrapped me with his arms, pressing me close to his body. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said in a comforting whisper. "I'm here. You're safe."

I felt his hand gently stroking my back, his touch sending a wave of calm through me. I pressed my face into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, and felt the tension begin to drain from my body. His heart beat steadily beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm that grounded me.

We had never had such an intimacy or closeness before. However, it felt perfect, like something we've both always needed. It seemed like exactly what We needed.

I felt him shift a little, repositioning himself to comfortably grasp me. He reached for my hair with his other hand and used his fingers to gently untangle knots that werent there.

I expected cuddling with James to be awkward, wrong, weird. But now that I was in his arms, his heartbeat in my ear, there was no place I'd rather be.

With his breath warm against my forehead, he whispered softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Still unable to find my voice, I shook my head once again. I was stuck thinking, maybe I loved James a little more than just a friend.

He answered softly, "Okay," without pressuring me further. "Just know I'm here, alright? I'm not going anywhere."

I nodded, feeling the last traces of fear finally disappear. His body, his touch, and his words were all I needed to feel okay again.

James placed a delicate kiss on the top of my head. "Sleep, you need it," he said softly, making my heart ache.

And as I nodded off in his arms, I realized that I would always have this James to come back to, nightmares or not.

[boochanz]

this is a bit late, about 9 months and 300 more followers late to be exact, but i didn't feel right ignoring the milestone and not extending my thank yous to every last person who helped me reach it ♡ i have been creating on tumblr since september 2022, and in that time i've taken 2 hiatuses that were about 5-7 months long each... and you guys stuck around in spite of that. i've always been shocked by the idea that my little part of tumblr was important enough for anyone to wait around for. for that, i thank you <3

how are we celebrating? my ask box is open: you have three options!

you can send me a make me choose prompt and i will create a gifset based on my choice (for example: black hair joshua or red hair joshua)?

you can send me an idol + era request (any idol except for the ones mentioned on my pin).

you can send a 'favorite' prompt (for example: my favorite bg music video?) and i will create a gifset based on it.

you are more than welcome to send the ask on anonymous; just keep an eye out for my answer! there is no limit on the amount of asks you can send, i only ask that you be patient with me! i have other things to do including a crazy baby to tend to ♡

now for me to get sappy: shout out to my beloved follow forever.

thank you to my longtime mutuals, including but not limited to: zaynab @hansjisung my very first mutual. @bandzboy my second mutual and the sweetest soul. @soonhoonsol who i love to see on the dash. @aceofvernons who is soooo normal. @seokmins who i miss dearly and was so kind to me when i first got here. and @wnjunhui , fellow huihui and occasional enabler of my delusions <3

and my lovely friends who i met last year. the jeongjan from twice loveclub, @ajusnice @kiimtaehyung @scouped @twiceland (and zay and mery again LOL) | i had the most fun with you guys last year when life was pretty tough. we shared the greatest laughs and the most ridiculous moments (sos is an english song?) and i am forever appreciative. my kpopcc family, too, including @lesseraive @pantropikos @taetheists @woozification and many, many more.

my newest mutuals, @taeraenomuyeppeo, @chwedout @minkwan @wonboos @bellamyblakru @jnwonwoos @fairyhaos and probably a shit ton more that i can't currently remember.

the people whose presence on this stupid site makes me so happy, @ashmp3 @taeiltual @seungkwan-s @leetaehwan @facethesuns @vcrnons @jeonsupershy @jeonwon-wonwoo @eoieopda @jeongtokkie @97-liners @dinotual @junmail @kimsmingyu and about a dozen others who i'll kick myself for forgetting later.

thank you for sticking around despite my inconsistency. you guys mean so much to me. even if we never talk, or talk very little, know and trust that i appreciate you and that you are so special to me.

[possibilistfanfiction]

Wn prompt: buttons

[for @unicyclehippo as part of our little series for ea other — outside switzerland era pov, or: the kind, amused things a vintage shopkeeper & her wife in switzerland think of ava & beatrice. also on ao3.]

//

one hot afternoon the door rings and a girl rushes through, a little bit of a hurricane, and another follows, calm in the eye of a storm she seems both exasperated by and fond of at once.

you’re used to an influx of university students during the summer months. many are passing through, on their way from zurich to berlin or munich; some are just relaxing here, passing time before they’re inevitably swept back into their everyday lives. you’ve lived here for a long time, since you yourself stumbled on this town just after you finished a degree in marketing that could have been of use but sparked so little joy you decided to give yourself a year, or two, or maybe five, to figure out something better, something happier. you’d worked at the vintage store before it was yours, with its previous owner, clara, taking a shine to you, even though, in those days, you were quieter, reserved, kept mostly to yourself. when she had wanted to retire, she sold the shop to you for much less than you knew it was worth — you buy her groceries and weed her lawn and fix anything in her house; you have her over for dinner every sunday.

it’s a good life, especially when it’s quiet in the morning, just before the shop opens, and you spin the pretty ring around aleyna’s finger and kiss her while she laughs and tastes like coffee. in those moments, with her black hair and the wrinkles that have gotten deeper around the edges of her mouth, under her eyes — from smiling, from your small home and the blue eggs the chickens in your yard lay, from her books and her records in this store that she sells with care and fondness, the way she does everything — that you love. in those moments, and in so many others, too — there is no better a life that you can imagine.

‘hello,’ you say in german. ‘welcome. i’m lena. is there anything i can help you with?’

‘i’m ava,’ one says, enthusiastic and rocking on her heels once, trying to keep her excitement in; she’s beautiful in a pretty way, in a young way, with messy, tangled light hair and a t-shirt with a hole in the sleeve. ‘and this is beatrice.’ she gestures to the girl beside her, a little older, stoic and straight backed, although she offers a smile, almost apologetic. she has on a black jumpsuit and her hair is in a neat bun at the back of her head. she waves. ‘we both use she/her pronouns, i don’t really care, though. and we’re staying here for the summer!’ ava continues, in perfect german, a happy smile on her face. ‘at least that long, i guess. we’re on sabbatical. anyway, we need stuff!’

‘clothes,’ beatrice clarifies. ‘our apartment is already furnished, ava.’

ava doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest. 'we need fun things too.’ ava takes beatrice’s hand and squeezes, which makes beatrice’s eyes go wide and you want to laugh, just a little. ‘but, yes, clothes.’

‘clothes can be fun,’ you say. ava grins; beatrice grimaces at you, a small warning not to encourage ava too much, it seems. you lead them over to some of your more casual shirts and summer tank tops, which ava seems immediately delighted by.

‘is it okay if i try things on?’

‘of course.’ you point toward one of the small dressing rooms near the back, with heavy curtains.

‘by the way,’ ava says, while beatrice carefully looks through tanks and t-shirts with a frown, ‘your suit is gorgeous. i would think it would be hot, but what is that — linen?’

‘yes,’ you say, and you don’t miss beatrice’s curious gaze at your slim pants, your loafers, the way your jacket sits perfectly on your shoulders. ‘it’s quite comfortable, even when it’s warm.’

‘i love that for you.’ ava already has a whole armful of cropped tanks and a few patterned overshirts, two pairs of denim shorts, and a pair of jeans the color of wild roses that aleyna had loved when she found them at a market two towns over. ‘bea, i’m gonna go try these on! fashion show!’

beatrice blushes but she nods. ‘stay within budget, please. i don’t think you can get all of what you’ve picked.’

‘yeah, obviously. don’t worry, i’ll find my favorites.’

ava scampers off and you don’t miss that beatrice hasn’t picked up anything to try on; you remember a feeling, back when your hair was too long and your pants were too tight against your hips, when you fought yourself into dresses, and the way she touches the same kind of tank ava had been thrilled to put in her arms reminds you, a little, of yourself.

‘i like to tailor,’ you tell her, and she looks at you carefully as you walk over to a clothing rack with — if you do say so yourself, and also aleyna says so, which is more important — beautiful slacks on it. some are formal, could pair well with a jacket, and some are more casual and comfortable. beatrice follows you, a little reluctantly but with measured, sure steps, solemn, exacting posture in her neat jumpsuit. you pick up a pair of navy slacks you genuinely do love, an exaggerated wide leg, and a grey pair that sits high on the waist. there’s a collarless button down you’d found a month or so ago, and you hand it to her as well. ‘what do you think?’

she takes them almost reverently, and sometimes you forget: you have lived here in the mountains and woken up to your wife and her sleepy grumbling for so many years, now — what it felt like to understand yourself for the first time. ‘they’re …’ she shakes her head, at a loss, it seems. ‘i’d like to try them on, if that’s okay.’

‘of course.’

ava bursts out of the dressing room not soon after beatrice is in the one next to her, and when she notices beatrice isn’t still standing outside, she grins.

‘well, lena, thoughts?’

you’re ultimately and immediately charmed by ava — her grin and genuine delight over a tank and a pair of cutoffs. ‘do you feel happy?’

‘god,’ ava says, ‘so fucking happy! i had — honestly, it’s a long story, but i haven’t gotten to pick out much stuff for myself, at least not in a long time. it’s so fun.’

you smile. ‘i told you so.’

she laughs. ‘but, while bea is in there —‘ she hooks a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the dressing room — ‘let me look at some knickknacks or something. she’s so serious but i can wear her down, i’m sure of it.’

you’re pretty sure ava could wear anyone down, but you don’t say that. ‘well, we have some records; my wife enjoys curating a collection so it’s fairly eclectic, but there will probably be something you’d like.’

‘sick,’ ava says, in english, and then laughs at herself. she starts looking through the few crates of records you have, pulls out blue by joni mitchell with a sad smile. ‘my mom loved this album.’

‘if you put it at the bottom of your pile of clothes, i’ll make sure it makes it into your bag.’ you wink when ava looks up at you and she smiles.

‘that’s very kind. thank you.’

it’s so sincere, ava immediately calmed and quiet, but then she perks up again when she hears the curtain of the dressing room open and beatrice steps out in the grey slacks and white button up you’d handed her. she’s a little awkward but her shoulders have relaxed and ava is about to drool next to you, you’re pretty sure, based on her complete lack of words; beatrice has to fight for a few seconds to look away from both ava’s thighs and her chest, but she does, eventually.

‘good?’

‘yes.’ beatrice offers you a real smile, not out of politeness but because she means it. ‘i think i need a belt?’

‘bea,’ ava says, rebooting and hurrying over to her, the record set carefully on the counter first. ‘you look so cool! like, whoa. conversely, also hot.’

‘ava.’

‘what?’ ava says, without any hint of an apology. ‘you do!’

you hand beatrice a simple black belt and find a few more button downs for her to try, a pair of loose levi’s, cuffed at the ankles, for lazy saturdays, and hand them to her too. she cradles them to her chest for a moment, and ava notices too.

‘thank you, lena,’ beatrice says. ‘i’ll finish trying everything on and then, if ava’s done, we’ll be out of your hair.’

you hair is perfect, thank you very much, and ava laughs when you primp it. ‘no rush, i’m just glad you liked some of the clothes.’

‘i do,’ beatrice says, then walks back into the dressing room.

‘whew,’ ava whispers. ‘am i right?’

it makes you laugh, her genuine distress. ‘i know the feeling.’

ava smiles. ‘well, bea wants to, like, get groceries, and clean, and go on a run, blah blah. but i’ll be back! i want to hear about your wife.’

‘she’s here most mornings, in fact.’

‘incredible.’ ava fist pumps. ‘i love mornings.’

you charge them far less, when beatrice brings two pairs of slacks, two button ups, and a pair of jeans so neatly folded you’re both a little concerned and a lot impressed, and places them on the counter, along with ava’s pile of tank tops and shorts and pants, and of course the album.

‘ava,’ beatrice says, ‘we don’t need that.’

ava pouts, but before she can argue, you say, ‘don’t worry about it. my wife will be thrilled it’s in good hands.’

beatrice looks torn; sometimes, kindness is difficult. but ava bounces on the balls of her feet and puts both of her hands on one of beatrice’s shoulders, practically begs. ‘fine,’ beatrice says. ‘thank you again, lena.’

‘sure thing,’ you say, accept beatrice’s neatly stored cash from her simple leather wallet, and send them on their way with a few bags. ava’s already trying to convince, you hear as they walk out, beatrice to skip their run and eat gelato by the lake instead. which, honestly, sounds like a good plan for the afternoon; you text aleyna and she comes by half an hour later, leaving the library a bit early, and kisses you in the golden sun.

/

ava comes in a few days later with a bag of pastries and three coffees and a giant smile.

‘hi!’ she says, delighted when she sees you and aleyna both sorting through a new box of books.

‘hello, ava,’ you say, stand and smile. aleyna stands too and steps forward to offer her hand. ‘this is aleyna, my wife.’

‘yes!’ ava puts the coffees down on the counter and then steps forward to shake her hand with enthusiasm. ‘i’m ava, it’s nice to meet you.’

‘i heard you’re a joni mitchell fan,’ aleyna says, with her black curls streaked with silver, her bright smile, her deep accented voice, her brown skin particularly gorgeous against the yellow of her summer slip dress, and you want to laugh at how ava’s eyes widen, how she seems to go a little weak at the knees.

‘i — uh — yes.’ she fumbles with the bag of pastries and then holds them out. ‘these are — thanks for the record. and for bea’s pants.’

you do laugh, then, but you take the bag from ava’s clumsy hands. ’thank you, ava. that’s very thoughtful. and i’m glad beatrice likes her pants.’

‘she does.’ ava sighs. ‘and i love her pants.’

aleyna smiles into her cup of coffee. ‘i heard from hans you both got jobs at the bar?’

‘yeah! it’s fun. i’m kind of terrible at it but i love to learn. bea is, of course, perfect.’ she rolls her eyes. ‘but i get to meet so many people. they’re really nice when i mess up their drinks.’

you take in ava’s tiny shorts and the way she’s tied an overshirt over a bralette, leaving just a sliver of her stomach exposed, and her soft, pretty features, her bright smile. ‘enthusiasm goes a long way.’

ava grins. ‘exactly!’

‘do you want to help us sort through some books?’ aleyna asks.

‘really?’

‘sure.’

ava sits down on the floor, crossed legs and scuffed converse and bright eyes. ‘i love to read; i’d love to see what you have. bea is still asleep; maybe i could surprise her with something.’

you let aleyna and ava go through a few boxes together while you work on a suit in your back workroom, but you can hear ava laughing brightly and eventually she pops her head through the doorway.

‘bea and i are gonna go swimming,’ she says, ‘but i’ll be back soon, i’m sure. aleyna is wonderful, you’re really lucky.’

‘i am,’ you agree. ‘what book did you get?’

it’s tucked under her arm carefully. she smiles. ‘the spring flowers own. i don’t know it yet.’

it’s tender, the way she means that she will know it; she’ll read it with care and meaning. ‘ah, etel adnan. one of aleyna’s favorites.’

‘that’s what she said; i’m excited.’

‘it’s very beautiful.’ you don’t add that it’s sad, that adnan’s bright paintings have brought your wife to tears on more than one occasion.

ava might understand; she is so young and pretty and bright but there’s an ache that’s hard to miss — a displacement, a longing.

‘enjoy the lake, ava. and tell beatrice hello from us.’

ava knocks twice on the doorframe. ‘i will.’

/

it’s a rainy, damp afternoon, nowhere in town terribly busy, when beatrice ducks into your store.

‘apologies,’ she says in form of greeting, looking a little lost without a jacket or umbrella. ‘i made the mistake of not checking the weather this morning.’

‘not a problem at all, beatrice. you’re always welcome here.’ beatrice smiles, gracious. ‘my wife was just making tea, if you’d like some? jasmine green tea.’

‘that sounds wonderful,’ she says.

‘hello!’ aleyna calls from the small back kitchen.

you gesture for beatrice to follow you. there’s a small table and four mis-matched chairs, carefully chosen, and aleyna smiles.

‘aleyna,’ she says, offers a hand.

‘beatrice.’ you know her handshake is firm and serious but she swallows once and you don’t miss the rise of pink on her cheeks. ‘pleasure.’

‘you’re british,’ aleyna says.

‘yes, from london, originally.’

aleyna smiles. ‘finally, someone to enjoy my good tea with.’ aleyna kisses your cheek to soften the upcoming blow: ‘lena is wonderful, and so handsome, but has awful taste in tea. she’s happy with just an over-steeped bag.’

beatrice grimaces around a laugh. ‘ava can’t make tea if her life depended on it. i’ve shown her many times, and she seems to get lost about halfway through.’

you suspect that might be because of beatrice’s careful hands and the serious set of her jaw, but you don’t mention it.

‘ah, ava,’ aleyna says. ‘she’s wonderful.’

‘she is,’ beatrice says. ‘exhausting, annoying… full.’

‘is she enjoying her book?’

‘she is,’ beatrice says, ‘very much. she’s been reading to me at night sometimes, so i’ve been enjoying it too.’

you share as quick a glance with aleyna as you can.

‘adnan is beautiful,’ beatrice continues. ‘you’re lebanese?’

‘yes,’ aleyna says. ‘you know her work?’

‘her paintings, mostly. i would love to read her work in arabic, though. ava’s fluent in a few languages, but all of them romance.’

you laugh — as if this is, somehow, a shortcoming beatrice would love to remedy — as aleyna perks up. ‘you know arabic?’

beatrice nods. ‘not as well as i’d like. i’m better with it spoken than written. but i’d love to improve; it’s beautiful.’

aleyna smiles, then says, in arabic, ‘i would love to speak with you, whenever you want.’

beatrice blushes down into her mug, then looks up. ‘your tea is excellent,’ she responds, a little slow, with an accent much more careful than aleyna’s lyrical and gravely lilt over the words, but perfectly. ‘i do know how to say more than that, also,’ beatrice says, and aleyna laughs, ‘but it really is wonderful.’

‘i appreciate it.’

‘lena.’ beatrice turns all her attention to you. ‘i was wondering if you had a sweater or two? ava continues to take my jacket when it’s cool. i’m sure she’ll enjoy taking my sweater too, but it would be helpful to have more than one.’

‘that would be,’ you grant her and spare her the embarrassment of clearly ducking into your shop because she’d gotten caught in a rainstorm with no jacket which is, apparently, ava’s fault. ‘want to come look at a few?’

‘sure.’ beatrice carefully rinses out her mug in the sink before following. ‘thank you,’ she says to aleyna, in arabic, ‘for the poems, and for the tea.’

‘come around anytime.’

beatrice smiles and follows you out, and you show her a soft green cotton crewneck you’d just gotten in. she holds it to her chest for a moment in the mirror, considering, and you wonder if ava ever gets beatrice to do anything without carefully thinking about it first. ‘this is perfect, thank you.’ she pulls it on immediately, definitely a little cold still, and you’re glad for her: that she has ava; that ava has her — in whatever capacity that is right now, the capacity you hope it’ll be eventually — and for her quiet, persistent kindness.

‘of course, i’m glad you like it.’

beatrice touches one of the suit jackets you’d finished recently, a little reverent. ‘i love a lot of the clothes you have, honestly. i — i’m not sure if i know, yet, how to be who i want to be.’

‘you’re young,’ you say. ‘not as a platitude, i promise.’ she nods. ‘but i didn’t figure out that i loved suits until i was years older than you.’

her shoulders relax a little, at the small out, the gentle understanding. she smiles, indulgent, and meets your eyes. ‘i can’t imagine you were ever anything other than very handsome.’

‘well, that is true.’ she laughs. ‘but impeccably dressed? that’s a journey. and you’re on your own.’

‘was it scary?’

‘terrifying.’

she touches one of the gorgeous opal buttons on the suit.

‘but very, very beautiful too.’

she tucks her hands into her pockets. ‘i’m sorry, i have to get going. ava thinks she can cook but we cannot afford another grease fire.’

‘better avoid that.’

‘how much is the sweater?’

you charge her a few euro; she eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t argue. she calls goodbye to aleyna, says a soft farewell to you, wanders back out — warmer, now — into the rain to make her way home.

/

ava bounces in on a sunny, hot morning, her hair sweaty and now short, cut to her chin, and you laugh when she gives you a high five.

‘your hair looks great,’ aleyna says, and you voice the same. ava preens, which aleyna happily laughs at.

‘bea cut it for me!’ she smiles and then looks at a few bracelets. ‘well, i tried to do it myself, but it’s, like, impossible. i had no idea. but, you live and you learn. bea fixed it, though, and then i convinced her to let me give her highlights! they’re so cute.’

‘how long have you been together?’

‘just a few months,’ ava says, trying on a little cap, and you raise your brows — you’d had a little ongoing wager with aleyna, after you’d run into the two of them at a summer festival in the city center, market lights and food and music; they’d been holding hands and ava had kissed beatrice’s cheek on multiple occasions. ‘but it feels like i’ve known her forever.’

‘young love,’ aleyna says, looks to you fondly. ‘remember when we felt like that.’

ava freezes, still looking at herself in the mirror.

‘i still feel like that, my dear.’

aleyna rolls her eyes fondly and kisses you on the temple. ava is still stock still in the corner, with the cap crooked.

‘i’m bisexual,’ she says, then puts her head in her hands, definitely embarrassed and you just laugh. but one thing about ava: she soldiers on: ‘i just mean, i like girls, and, anyway — is it — hypothetically, if someone wasn’t together with their best friend because of … prior commitments, but you’re pretty sure there’s, like, reciprocal feelings, and those commitments are… a little less strict now, and i know bea is — well — is it — should i kiss her?’

you wait for her to take a few breaths and steady herself. ‘so… you’re not dating?’

ava groans. ‘i wish.’

aleyna owes you twenty euro; you knew they were too jittery to have made that jump. you’ll remind her later. ‘do you think beatrice is ready for that?’ you’d seen the way her hands shook when she bypassed a row of dresses for a pair of men’s pants you’d hemmed for her; the way she blushed around aleyna when they spoke arabic together over tea some afternoons; the way she grinned when you’d handed her your favorite bronkski beat record and said, ‘my parents never let me listen to them, but i always wanted to.’

ava frowns; you think she might legitimately be about to cry. ‘i don’t know.’

‘well, it’s clear to me that you love each other, and you have your whole lives,’ aleyna offers. ‘you’ll sort it out.’

ava does cry then, and you thought that was going to be soothing response, but you wait a beat and then hug ava: small, slight — scared, clearly, of something you don’t understand.

‘you’re right,’ she says, after a few moments, and dries her tears. ‘we’ll — there’s time.’ she fiddles with the cap, runs a hand through her hair and then can’t help but smile, just slightly, as she tucks it behind her ears. ‘we’ll have time.’

‘you will,’ aleyna says, looks to you and you know she means it as a promise, the same one you made to each other years and years ago.

ava sniffles and nods and then laughs. ‘wow, sorry! crying in front of my two favorite lesbians. other than bea, obviously, but — fuck.’ she looks a little panicked but then, ‘oh well, you already knew, right?’

‘yes,’ you say, and aleyna laughs.

‘well, you’re tied for number two on the list, sorry.’

‘an honor.’

ava bows with a flourish and giggles at herself. ‘anyway, now my hair is always in my face, something i did not think through. so i’m gonna get this hat.’

you ring her up and she puts it on backward with a little grin and waves on her way out.

/

‘hello,’ beatrice says, wandering as you’re near closing, without ava in tow. ‘if it’s too late, i’m happy to come back another time.’

‘not at all.’

she smooths her already perfectly neat bun. ‘i was wondering —‘ she takes a deep breath and settles herself, like she’s about to shoot a gun— ‘can i try on a suit?’

‘of course,’ you say calmly, and it works: she nods in thanks and lets the air out of her lungs. you find her a beautiful, light linen suit — a little oversized, still a little feminine, and a pair of loafers you love, a collarless button down to go under the jacket. she takes her time in the dressing room, but when she steps out, her hair out of its bun, swept over her shoulder, her shirt tucked in neatly, she looks in the mirror and bites her bottom lip.

‘this is beautiful.’ it’s wistful, and sad.

‘you look handsome.’

she looks up at the ceiling, then tries to wipe tears of her cheeks as discreetly as possible. ‘you love being who you are.’

‘i do,’ you say. ‘i love being butch; i love that people know who i am, and how i want to be.’ you bring her some elegant cufflinks and she lets you put them on.

‘i love this suit.’

‘you’re more than allowed.’ you squeeze her wrist, just once. ‘it is a great suit.’

she smiles, grateful for the levity, and then lets out a big breath. ‘it’s quite a gift, to be in your own skin.’

‘it is.’

she tells you that she can’t get it — not yet, she says, a promise more to herself — and after she’s changed and meticulously hung the suit back up, she gives you a hug. you put your hand to the back of her head, as protective as you can. you had had an older dyke who had given you your own suit, had taught you careful stitches to tailor a waistband and how to comb your hair back neatly.

‘i do have something for you,’ you say, and hand her a small necklace, an opal drop on a black cord; aleyna had found it at a market in geneva and given it to you for the express purpose of giving it to beatrice. it’s meddling, but you think, in this scenario, maybe a little push is kind.

‘i can’t — this is too generous.’

‘it’s not.’ you put it in a small velvet bag for her. ‘i’m old, and have a beautiful wife. you get to go be yourself. and i think there’s a girl who cares a great deal for you.’

beatrice nods. ‘thank you. ava will love it, i’m sure.’

/

when you get to the shop a few weeks later, there’s a note shoved under the door; you open it and see what you’re sure is beatrice’s careful handwriting:

Dear Lena and Aleyna,

We are deeply sorry to leave without saying a proper goodbye; we’ve had a family emergency and have to get there as quickly as possible. Your generosity — your tea, and books, and music, and the beautiful suit I’ll think of for years to come — has changed my life. Your love is somewhat of a holy thing, I think. Ava also says that she appreciates all the crop tops you had for her because it made flirting more fun (she made me write this). In any case, we’ll miss you greatly; hopefully, we will be back eventually to visit again. I hope my Arabic improves, and Ava would like to make you drinks one day.

All our love, Beatrice + Ava

/

it’s a warm morning in may, spring giving way into the purple blooms of summer, when the door opens and you almost drop your coffee because you hear laughter you could never really forget, and then ava and beatrice walk in. you haven’t seen them in two years, and they both look older, a little tired, but they’re holding hands and ava is just as bright as you remember, a cap still backward on her head, short hair tucked behind her ears, an exuberance in her steps; beatrice’s hair is long and blonde and she smiles with a lightness in her eyes you’d never seen before. aleyna walks out of the back, absolutely delighted.

‘what are you two doing here?’

ava smiles. ‘we were visiting some friends in berlin, then heading to andalusia for a few weeks. we live in los angeles now.’

‘california!’ aleyna grins.

‘right on the beach,’ ava says. ‘but, well, we wanted to stop by, say proper goodbyes and then a new hello!’

beatrice laughs, free and open, and the hand that sneaks its way across the back of ava’s shoulders seems second-nature at this point. ‘i, um, actually — we have a wedding soon.’

‘not ours,’ ava says, but then looks to beatrice, ‘but one day, right.’

beatrice flushes red, but her smile doesn’t falter at all. ‘one day, yes.’ she turns to you and sets her shoulders. ‘could you help me with a suit?’

you give her a hug; you can’t help it, and no one mentions it when she lets ava wipe a few tears when she backs up. ‘it would bring me immense joy to do so.’

and you do — ava sits with aleyna and whistles at everything beatrice tries on, and beatrice puts on a slim navy suit — without a shirt underneath; she had smirked at ava when she walked out — and then looks at herself in the mirror. she meets your eyes in the reflection and nods, just once.

‘that’s the one, then?’

she nods. ‘i think so.’

‘this isn’t fair,’ ava pouts, ‘bea’s gonna look so much hotter than me. she’s gonna upstage the bride and the groom at this point.’

aleyna laughs. ‘terrible problem to have.’

ava rolls her eyes, joyful all the same. ‘you would know.’

aleyna smiles in your direction — a lifetime, a whole lifetime; your heart still swells like it did the first time you ever saw her. ‘i would.’

[occasionallyprosie]

A Thousand Ways

Chapter 14: "Passing Through"

Linkle and Warriors would 100% rp royalty as kids and Legend and Hyrule are theatre kids... also, the ballad didn't work.

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----

"So, is she staying with us?" Wild asked after they took out the monster camp with Linkle's help. Her mere presence had set Warriors off and the two were constantly bantering, more than any of the others ever did with each other and that was saying something.

At first, some of them were concerned, then they collectively realized that Warriors was more relaxed than they almost had ever seen him. It really showed when the fight began, and Linkle and Wars basically handled the entire thing. They fought together incredibly well, Linkle using crossbows and Piyoko--Legend was surprised at how attached Piyoko was to Linkle, she adored the heroine who loved her in return--as weapons, Piyoko definitely had the time of her life, while Warriors used his sword and shield to control the entire camp with ease... with the exception of the couple black bloods that Legend and Hyrule, and Time and Wind handled 

Honestly, Legend saw half their group just hanging back and he joined them in time to see both siblings gang up on a giant, and bring it down in record time.

Both were grinning at the end of it all, high-fiving and throwing insults at the other's form and battle choices.

"If she wants to," Warriors said in response to Wild's question. He shrugged. "I can't stop her if she does."

Linkle scooped up Piyoko into her arms. "I'd love to, goddesses know I miss this kind of thing, but I have to pass." She turned to Warriors. "One of us needs to stay back home, and tell Ma about that pretty little lie of yours."

"I told you--"

"Yeah yeah." Linkle waved him off. "Whatever. I'll tell her that it's a new development and her baby boy didn't lie to her face."

"I am literally a grown adult--With children!"

"Kids you adopted during the war so they wouldn't be sent to an orphanage don’t count."

"Hey!" Wind exclaimed.

"Rude," Time grunted.

Warriors gestured at them. "Does it look like we care? Why does Mom trust you more than me when my kids are actual children and not animals?" 

"Because I have more than you, and they're better trained. Mask dyed Impa's hair green!"

Legend glanced at Hyrule, leaning over to whisper to him and Wild.

"Bets that Mask is the Old Man?"

"No way," Wild hissed back. "It's totally the sailor."

"Ma would side with me that actual kids are far harder to take care of than a flock of cuccos!" Warriors argued.

Linkle scowled. "You know what? Fine! I'll adopt two of my own!"

"Wha--You’re going to--"

Legend and Hyrule both broke when Linkle raised an eyebrow at them.

"Us?" Hyrule pointed at them.

Linkle nodded. "I like you two, besides, I bet you'd beat Mask and Tune."

"No way!" Wind piped up. "We'd kick their ass! Besides, you can't take the Vet, he's my baby brother."

Time snorted. "Wow, Sailor. I'm wounded."

"You’re my little brother, there's a difference," Wind huffed, "Apple's my baby brother and Aryll's my baby sister."

Legend staggered a bit as Hyrule hugged him and declared, "My little brother now!"

"Daaad!" Wind whined, pouting at Warriors.

Legend couldn't help but laugh. Warriors sighed and tried to barter with Linkle, who stood her ground about adopting him and Hyrule.

Wild leaned over. "Would you let her?"

Legend looked at Hyrule, they shrugged.

"Sure," Hyrule agreed.

"Only when we're in this era though," Legend added, thinking of Dusk. "I don’t want to deal with... having to explain that to anyone. If she really wants, then fine, but only legally binding here... I'll let her claim it whenever, if only so we can fight the Sailor and Old Man."

"Yeah," Hyrule smirked, arm still slung over his shoulders. "We'd totally win."

Linkle gestured at them while Warriors groaned.

"Ha! I win! Next time you guys show up here, I'll have the paperwork ready," she swore. "Okay?"

"I can't believe you three." Warriors threw his hands up, turning away.

"Okay," Hyrule told Linkle. "Are you our mom now? Or...?"

"Sure. Next time, I'll introduce you to my Ma as her better grandchildren."

"Rude! Link, why didn't you ever introduce us to your Mom?!" Wind demanded.

"I-I--" Warriors floundered.

Legend could honestly tell that Linkle had only actually offered to mess with Warriors, and if agreeing messed with the Captain and the Sailor? Well, he was all for that.

What kind of 'baby brother' would he be if he didn't take whatever opportunity he was presented with to mess with his apparent siblings?

The portal came during the walk back to town, which was less filled with Warriors and Linkle arguing, and more filled with Linkle questioning him and Hyrule about their lives 'as a good mother would.'

"Well!" Warriors said loudly, interrupting Hyrule and Legend explaining their era and how it was different from his era to Linkle. "As fun as it has been to see you again, my dear sister, we simply must be going now."

Legend snorted, he heard Wild and Four sharing giggles too. Twilight and Sky had taken up the rear of the group, and both seemed especially amused.

Linkle pouted. She wrapped her arms around Legend and Hyrule. "Oh must you, Captain?" She replied, losing every ounce of her country accent in replacement of a posh, castle town accent. "Oh Captain please, my sons are only children, you need not take them away to fight battles for a higher power. Please spare them. Look! They are no soldiers, nor squires training to be such, doest thou not see their fear at facing warfare?"

Oh she is amazing, Piyoko clucked, Link, your new mom is amazing and I love her.

Warriors' face hardened, but the mirth was clear and it was a conscious decision to help bolster Linkle's argument by pulling on every part of his self control and acting ability to play the part of a scared kid. Hyrule's shoulders stopped shaking from holding in laughter and a glance showed that his successor was an excellent actor too.

"The Queen's commands are clear, these boys are to march to battle and face against the dark horrors of time," Warriors declared.

"You monster!" Linkle cried dramatically, playing up her part of a scared mother despite not looking even barely old enough to be their mother. "Child stealer!"

"Okay, okay!" Twilight intervened, choking on laughter. "Even if this is entertainin', we really do needa go. So say bye t' yer Ma, Vet, Traveler, and let's go."

On one hand, he could just cut the act, on the other... Legend looked at Linkle, and he was definitely pouting and using everything he knew to appear scared. "Ma, I don’t want to go."

Hyrule couldn't hold it in anymore and he broke, grabbing his stomach and wheezing in his laughter. Warriors gaped at him, as if surprised he was a decent actor, while Linkle immediately hugged him.

"I know, I know," she held firm to her own act, "but you must." She pulled away and held his face, he grabbed her hands and could see how she was starting to struggle to keep character too. He really wanted to break. "Be strong, and filled with courage. You will find your way back home, I know it."

A beat passed before they both broke, and the entire area was filled with various forms of laughter, loud and boisterous, high and wheezy, contained and quiet, someone's sounded like a fairy's even and another's was carried by the wind itself it felt like.

Legend wiped a tear from his eye. For a moment, it felt like everything was actually okay. For a moment, he was just joking around with friends, pulling stupid jokes and teasing each other.

The next, he felt Piyoko brush his leg, and the reminder of why she was with him hit him. With that, came the reminder of everything that had happened in the last few months. He managed to not let his renewed realization show to strongly, the laughter slowly fizzled out and he lent down to pick up Piyoko.

Link? She sounded concerned. He'd seen her fight with Linkle, but also needed Linkle's aid at every moment. All Piyoko could truly do was distract, and blind if she was lucky. Unlike heroes who accidentally harm cuccoos, monsters had no qualms with smacking them from the sky and he had seen so many close calls in just one fight alone. Linkle was used to accounting for them and ensuring their safety, Legend wasn't and he didn't want to risk her safety to learn.

"Let's--"

"Linkle?" Legend looked at the older woman, she was Warriors' twin, wasn't she? 

"Yeah?"

"Would you be willing to keep Piyoko?"

He heard several people freeze and inhale sharply. He wasn't sure exactly why.

Linkle frowned, crossing her arms. "Why?"

Warriors spoke up, instructing the others to go ahead and file through, to make sure they had their supplies and everything.

Link? Piyoko sounded hurt, though also concerned.

"I... She's a good fighter," Legend said, looking down at her in his arms. "One of my oldest companions, but... I don’t know how to fight with her, and I can't risk her in order to learn. More than that... You've mentioned you have a whole flock of your own, she's friendly and can assimilate, and... and Piyoko, we both know you prefer life on the farm rather than on the road. You also have said you love Linkle, if you’re both okay with it, I think this would be the best option for you."

Piyoko stared up at him, completely silent. He could almost feel her hurt, but the way she wasn't immediately pecking him and telling him he was an idiot--like she had when he suggested she stay with one of the farmers in Kakariko with the other cuccoos--meant he was right and she actually was considering it.

A part of him wanted to take his words back, to keep Piyoko with him. She'd been there in Holodrum, had always been someone he could trust. Din, he'd called her his emotional support animal for all the times he'd vent and she'd offer insight. But he also knew that no matter how much he wanted to cling to before--before his grandparents, before that cell, those days where he could feel his body wasting in that cave--and how Piyoko was a reminder of that, of days between adventures at his grandparents farm, of the lightness in Holodrum, of safety and warmth and peace... she was still a farm animal, and he wouldn't choose his own mental security over her physical safety. Not in a million years. Not ever.

If she's okay with it, Piyoko conceded, almost surprisingly so.

Linkle held her arm out and Piyoko jumped to her, wings flapping to aid the transfer.

"I'll take good care of her, visit when you can," while he can, Linkle gave him a pointed look.

He nodded. "Of course... Later, Piyoko."

...bye Link. Be safe.

"When am I not?"

Warriors and Twilight were the only ones waiting left, as per usual, the local Link would be the last to enter the portal. Legend left with Twilight, and everyone waited a few minutes longer before Warriors came through and it shut behind them.

During his watch, Legend watched the sun rise against all odds, and sure, astronomers of his era had determined the world to be a sphere and to revolve around the sun, but did he particularly care for that detail? No. The sun rose, that's why they called it a sunrise.

There were a million things he could think about.

Raven, how his ancestor not only was the grandson of the Fallen Hero, but how the people seemed to regard the Fallen Hero and in turn how they treated Raven... and what he did in spite of it. Additionally, just the fact that he'd never see Raven again... again. That's the second time he's lost the one man he's considered a parental figure, his uncle had been great but he... there was something there, he was always his uncle, never quite a father figure.

The fact he can't seem to die. That cell, he didn't look over to see the blood but he knew that no person should've survived what he did, and he didn't know how. But maybe Dusk had some special method of saving his life. Then the cave... the island and storms... he had been sick, so sick he couldn't move and didn't eat for days, he knew now he shouldn't have survived that--learning how long they'd been in the Sailor's era and the Traveler's era right afterwards--and yet, he did. He didn't know what Marley and Raven did either, but they didn't have access to things that would've done anything special.

He knew he should've died in that cell, he was certain of that fact, but that portal had come at the perfect time... More than that, the portal had come to that cave and had to of dropped Legend right on Raven in order for him to have survived that too.

He knew the goddesses wasn't done with him, this was just further proof of that.

Or... he glanced at the back of his left hand. Maybe my ancestry plays a larger part in that survival.

Three people here were his ancestors. 

Sky was the easiest to place and yet the hardest to come to terms with. Sky was from before the timeline got chaotic, the line from him to Legend was straight and simple. He was the easiest to understand and yet... how was he, Legend, a descendant of the goddess, and by extension, royalty?

Time was probably the easiest to come to terms with, his was a bit weird with the timeline and parallel worlds, but it was comprehensible. Time was the Fallen Hero, Legend had figured that out, Twilight's Hero of Time was from the exact same time as the Fallen Hero, the history books claimed him to have done the same things as the Fallen Hero... only he succeeded in the end. It was weird, but Legend could understand it. He knew Raven was his ancestor, and he now knew Raven's grandfather was the Fallen Hero. So sure, Time wasn't his ancestor, but in a weird parallel timeline way, he was. That was simple.

What wasn't simple was Twilight, what wasn't easy to come to terms with was Twilight. Because if they were related, it was confusing.

Legend knew exactly four things about his father: one, he was younger than his uncle, two, he looked almost nothing like his uncle aside from the bare minimum sibling similarities, three, his name had been Link and Legend was named after him, and four, he died around the same time Legend had been born.

Now, that paired with the fact that his uncle Alphon was his uncle, would lead one to assume that Twilight--well his parallel self in Legend's timeline--was his father. Easy, simple, timeline shenanigans makes it confusing but only a little more than Time.

Except that Legend has met Dusk and her two children, the children that are the parallels to him and Fable. He knows who their father is, and the problem is that their father is Alphon and Legend knows his father isn't Uncle Alphon.

That's the confusing part. Legend genuinely doesn't know how to place Twilight, his best conclusion is that Dusk and Twilight had some other variable that kept them from falling in love or at least having two kids that Legend's parents didn't. And knowing that Fable's counterpart was born... roughly two years after Twilight's adventure, meant that variable was probably related to his adventure.

But, how did Dusk's daughter look so identical to Fable if she had a different father, who bared little resemblance to Twilight? 

"Honestly, couldn't some part of my life been simple?" He muttered. He wished Piyoko was here--she's safer with Linkle.

"Did you say something?" Wild looked up from the breakfast he was working on.

"No, just thinking. Need a hand with that?"

The moment Legend opened his eyes, he knew things were wrong.

He shot up and almost expected to see lapping waves and hear cawing seagulls, only to see a familiar forest.

"What the..." he breathed, pushing himself to stand as he looked around. He dug out his ocarina and tried to play the Ballad of the Wind Fish.

The song reverberated in the forest—which it shouldn't have, the notes should've just expanded further—and thrummed all around him.

Nothing changed though. He almost began again when he heard a bush rustle.

He moved quickly, drawing his sword only to see a man rush through the small clearing to kneel by a tree. He put something inside it before quickly shoving his cloak into some sling at his chest.

“Excuse me?” Legend called, wary. He reached for the man’s shoulder.

Yelling caught his attention, familiar yelling. He tensed as he shifted his stance, the man shot up quickly.

“This way!”

“Find him!”

A squad of knights burst from the same direction the man had come from. The man moved past Legend in a way that should have bumped his shoulder, but he just went through him.

The realization near smacked him in the face.

This was a vision, he had some of those when he was younger but ever since Koholint he couldn’t differentiate them from dreams. He was seeing some scene, past, present, or future, and he couldn’t intervene. So he observed.

The cloak had been hiding a forest green tunic lined in golds, a golden crown, though Legend couldn't quite see his face from his angle.

“Stand down,” the leading knight commanded, and Legend froze when he saw that familiar glaze in the equally familiar knight’s eyes. “We only wish to kill the boy.”

“Over my dead body,” the man snarled, Legend felt a flash of familiarity at the voice.

“So be it.”

He swallowed thickly. What being had dragged him into some hell where his main torturer, visibly decades younger, was facing a younger and more composed Twilight?

Time grabbed Twilight’s arm and pulled him back. “We’re only observers, Pup.”

“He can’t see us,” Twilight croaked.

Hyrule was waving a hand in front of Legend’s face, but their scholar didn't even notice. Time didn't know how exactly, but they were all sharing some kind of vision, except Legend was separate from them. He blamed the goddesses.

“There’s a baby here!” Wind exclaimed from where he and Four had investigated the tree the nobleman had been knelt by.

Wild suddenly yelped loudly, grabbing Twilight’s arm as he jumped back.

Time turned to look at what startled the Cub, and only due to his earned dark vision, could he see the nobleman's face. The darkness of the snowstorm overhead didn't help, but his face was very clear.

Though it lacked tattoos and scars, it was undoubtedly their rancher, or someone closely related to him. His jaw the same shape, his nose and eyes, the way Time could almost feel a connection to him...

Time tightened his grip on his pup as he felt him go rigid beside him. The man in front of them wasn’t much of a man, maybe Sky’s age, younger than Twilight at least.

“What in Hylia’s…” Sky breathed.

The lookalike cut down two of the knights before an arrow lodged into his bicep. He didn’t cry out and only barely switched his sword to his other hand to block another blade. Time didn’t know what they were meant to be seeing; between the alleged baby in the tree behind them, the young man fighting to save both their lives, and Legend’s exclusion from them.

Time felt his blood go cold as a blade sank through the bundle on the young man’s chest, and then through his chest too. He could see the sword protruding from the man's back.

“NO!” Wild screamed.

Twilight lunged to catch him and pull him back, Time pulled both back as he listened to Twilight promise Wild that it wasn’t him. Wind cried out too, and Warriors was quick to pull him and Hyrule to him as they watched the young man snarl, baring slight fangs. The young man swung his sword desperately, and it knocked the knight’s helmet off, but did little other damage.

“Agahnim will fail,” he swore, “you’ll fail.”

The knight laughed; Sky suddenly made a horrified noise upon seeing the knight’s face.

“With that brat dead, he will prevail,” the knight sneered. “With you out of the way, that wife of yours will be easy pickings, king.”

The knight shoved the noble off his sword, the man fell back and into the snow. 

In a reminder that Legend was completely separate from them, the veteran shot forward, dropping to his knees beside the nobleman.

“No, no, no—” Legend said as the knights all laughed. They boasted to one another, cheered how Agahnim would be pleased, and left the nobleman to die. “Don’t tell me—”

“No--Kit, it’s not him, it's not the Rancher,“ Sky tried as the young nobleman struggled to breathe, blood slipping from his mouth.

Time hated to see it, that was his pup—in look, at least—who was dying on the forest floor. It was that inn all over again.

A ripple of violet wrapped around their scholar for a moment, and just in time, Legend’s hand landed on the young man’s chest.

“He touched him!” Four gasped, voicing what Time knew they all were thinking. This was a vision, a dream, how could Legend interact with it like that?

“Who…” the man murmured, frowning and his brows knitting together in a way that Time could only see Twilight, could only see his descendent laying there.

“Wait—I have a fairy,” Legend shoved his hand into his pouch. “It’s going to be alright—You’ll be fine, you’ll get out of this—”

“Yer him,” the man slurred, and Great Forests, he even sounded like Twilight. “I… I got’ta see… ya grown up…”

Time held his pup a bit tighter as they all stared at the scene.

Legend made a strangled noise. “No, no, no—Where is that damn fairy?!” He suddenly froze as the man raised a bloodied hand to his cheek. “W-What--”

“If yer here…” the young man said, “s’means… yer not changin’ it… are ya?”

Time did not know their acclaimed Veteran Hero to be fragile, yet in that moment he looked like breaking glass.

“I can’t, can I?” He responded, voice breaking. He didn't sound his years either. “I’m sorry—I’ll fix it though! I—Agahnim doesn’t win! I stopped him, and-and I—I saved Zel—She’s—She’s okay too. You—You’re okay—You don’t have to worry.”

It hit him: Legend wasn’t seeing Twilight.

“I know… ya got the look of a hero… jus’ like y’r ancestors.” The young man smiled just as his hand slipped down from Legend’s face, leaving a line of blood down it. “I’m… ‘m proud.”

Legend caught his hand but otherwise didn’t move, his mouth moved as if to speak but no sound emerged.

“What the hell?” Warriors breathed.

“Is he okay?” Wind whispered, daring to try and touch Legend again while the veteran just stared at the dead man in front of him.

“I don’t—” Twilight choked out, “he’s not okay—Ordona, please.”

Wind’s hand went through Legend again.

A call caught their attention. Legend’s head jerked to the side toward the wider forest. He scrambled to his feet as that purple wisp wrapped around him again and the call grew clearer.

“Link!” All their heads turned toward the older woman. She was followed by an older man carrying a lantern, just outside the area. “Link! Baby, we came! Where are…”

“Leanne,” the man grabbed her arm, staring in their direction. “Is that…”

She pushed branches aside and entered the area, Twilight made a strangled noise while Legend, who saw them too, let out a pained cry as he dropped back to his knees.

The woman rushed to the body on the ground, her hand brushing through Legend’s shoulder and half of Sky’s body as he failed to get out of the way quick enough. 

She let out a horrid scream, one worse than any redead Time had ever heard, a cry of pain deeper than any injury, than any sword wound.

“LINK! NO! GODDESSES NO! NOT MY BABY!” She screamed, falling to the ground beside the dead man.

She screamed and sobbed and begged the goddesses not to take her child, her husband kneeling beside her and placing his hand on his son’s leg, eyes slipping shut.

Time couldn’t move, her cries froze him to his place, and it seemed all of them had the same reaction, except for their veteran.

Legend, with visible tears streaming down his cheeks, rushed over to the grieving couple and dropped beside the woman.

“Gran—Gran, please stop crying,” Legend begged, and Time felt the pieces click into place. At that same moment, Twilight fell to the ground just beside Time. Wild made a worried noise as he dropped beside the Rancher. “Gran, please, it’s okay, I’m so sorry—Look! Gran, look at him, he’s smiling. Gran please, don’t cry. I’ll fix it, I will.”

He sounded like a child, he sounded like Time when he had begged Navi not to leave, he sounded desperate and broken and like he just wanted to fix the one thing he had left.

“We shouldn’t be seeing this,” Four said, stepping back. “We’re not supposed to be seeing this.”

The woman faltered, her hand lowered to the man’s face and brushed his cheek, tugging the smile that had remained when his spirit moved on.

“My baby,” she sobbed, her cries quieting. “My baby boy.”

Another kind of cry caught all their attention, in the hollow of a tree came the sound of a crying infant.

“Oh,” Legend breathed. “That’s how…” He let out a pained laugh for seemingly no reason.

The old couple both went to the tree, and the woman cooed, it was strained and a bit painful, as she scooped an infant wrapped in royal blue from the hollow.

Time stumbled as the world suddenly jerked beneath their feet.

Next>>

[madschiavelique]

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ . ★ . ჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

<< Click here if you want to go back to chapter 1

Choice A : Decline and go straight to your flat.

content warnings : none word count : 1,9k masterlist of the fic : here.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ . ★ . ჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

You don't want to miss the arrival of the deliverymen, hoping that at this hour you can still catch them and get their help.

"That's kind of you, but I've got to try and catch my delivery men on the fly."

"Consumer?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as if reconsidering the whole pseudo-friendship you'd created from the beginning of this tour.

"Receiver," you corrected, "I receive my flat's stuff."

He nodded, reassured, his anti-capitalism thoughts comforted by the news.

"I’ve got to go repeat with Gwen anyway, have you got a pen?" he questioned, the query catching you off guard, "with paper."

"Yes," you affirm, rummaging through your bag, pulling out a pen and with this your agenda. "The pen is called come back."

"Come back? Do you give names to all your things?"

"They all have the same name, come back. But especially my pens," you say as he gives a little laugh.

"Here," he says as he grabs both of them, uncapping the pen with his teeth before quickly writing numbers on your planner's first page. "Here's my number," he handed you your diary, "and here's come back." he said as he handed you your pen. "If you ever need any information or have any problems, just give me a call. All right?"

"Alright," you as you pack your things into your bag. "Is it weird that I didn't expect you to have a phone?"

After all, as anti-system and anti-consumer as he was, the thought of him having a phone seemed almost unlikely.

"No, but I had to have one just to keep in touch." He pulls out of his pocket what looks like a relic of technology, an antiquity not so very distant in our era: a Nokia 3310.

Your eyes remain fixed on it for a few moments before you pull yourself together: there's no time to lose, you've got to see your delivery men.

"Thanks for..." you're not going to list every item you want to thank him for, so you simply finish your sentence with "everything"

He nods as you start to leave, giving you a two-fingered salute.

You pass a street, trying to take note of the shop signs. There's a small mini-market on the next street you turn down. It seems to have a bit of everything, food, crafts, even candles.

You pass another street, a little longer, before taking a turn and arriving in a narrower one where most of the buildings are residential.

Hey... that's the delivery van leaving! You're almost tempted to run, but it's already too far for you. You let out an exasperated sigh, your bottom lip bitten by your annoyed teeth.

The good thing is that, even if you haven't been able to collect all your stuff, the concierge is in charge of collecting it if you're away for the delivery. You arrive at the door of your new building, looking at it again. It's obviously not your first time here, but you can't help thinking that this is going to be your home.

You enter the hall with your building badge, and come face to face with two people. One of them looks familiar: the concierge, a kindly, gentle old man who's been keeping up the good neighbourly business since he took over the building. And the second...

The first thing you notice is that he's tall, very tall to the point where you’d have to raise your head to speak with him. His body is massive, and the way his shirt is tight on his back but a bit more loose around his waist has your complete attention. He's brown-haired, wearing a black shirt and dark jeans. His back is turned to you as the little caretaker's eyes sparkle at the sight of you.

"Ah, [Name] there you are. I tried to hold back the delivery boys because I didn't know if you'd arrive at the same time as them, but I didn't manage it," he says with a little shrug.

"That's all right," you assert as you approach the pair.

The man who has his back facing you turns around, and you are overwhelmed by the beauty of his face. You didn't think that such a perfect body would go with such a flawless figure, but right now you're happier than ever to be wrong. If every time you were mistaken such miraculous results occurred, then being wrong would inevitably become your favourite occupation.

The way his eyes through his long dark lashes find yours in a sort of surprised new interest found in your presence makes you forget how to breathe for a long second. You approach them, the feeling of his gaze travelling your body tingles your skin.

"This is Miguel O'Hara.” introduces your concierge. “He's your next-door neighbour."

Wonderful day, thank you for having graced me with the presence of this god among men whom I have been given to have as a neighbour, you think to yourself.

Miguel turns to you, holding out his hand and flashing a polite smile.

"Nice to meet you, [Name] is it ?” he says, as if to make sure he pronounces it properly.

"That's right, nice to meet you too," you smile, taking his huge hand and shaking it softly.

The warm skin of his palm meets yours, his grip is soft and you wonder how hard it must be for him to lower his strength and not crush your hand in his.

You had held a bird once in your hands as it had been slightly wounded on its wing, and you remember how caressing its head with just your thumb felt like a single stronger pressure could hurt it. It was round and its skull felt as thin as an eggshell.

Does Miguel ever feel like this ? Like whatever he holds might break ?

You don't know what's more disconcerting, the feel of his hand against yours, or the sound your name had in his mouth.

Is it wrong that you want to hear him call your name again ?

Your eyes linger on his features. His hair that he must’ve combed with his fingers beforehand, his salient cheekbones, his straight jaw, his full lips...

"The boxes are right here," says the concierge as you conclude your handshake.

The concierge’s words feel like a needle popping a bubble, this sharp and sparkly come back to reality prickling in your mind as you remove your hand from Miguel’s.

A glance at your stuff pointed by the caretaker is enough to make you sigh heavily. The idea of a box or a single cube is enough to currently make you tired, so much so that even the idea that you're about to lift Minecraft cubes can't comfort you.

"Thank you very much," you greet him as he waves goodbye to both you and Miguel one last time before heading off.

You inhale, then relax your shoulders as you exhale before stooping down to pick up two boxes that are stacked together. You've got six boxes in all, some heavier than others, but the weight isn't what worries you most. What bothers you slightly is that you're going to have to do it three times to bring everything up.

"Do you need any help?" asks Miguel

You turn to him, his gaze impassive as he points to the remaining boxes. With his build, all your problems of moving around would be immediately solved.

"It would be really nice, if it's not too much trouble," you reply simply, your hands already hurting from lifting the two boxes.

"Not at all," he says with a smile as he picks up the four remaining boxes and lifts them, two boxes per arm.

It's amazing how easy he makes lifting them look, when only two in your arms are killing you. You can’t help but notice how the fabric of his shirt tightens over his muscles as the contract, and you silently swallow your saliva at the view.

You both start to climb the stairs, every step feeling like the pressure in your fingers from holding the boxes deepens and raises in your arms. Miguel seems hesitant to engage in conversation, and to be honest so are you.

It’s not so much because you lack of conversation, but it feels like his presence itself squeezes your throat, such that you’re worried if you try to speak words they'd come out bitten into pieces.

"So, you’re a big reader?" he eventually asks, breaking the silence that seems to tingle the air as you make your way up the stairs.

"A bit,” you breath, “although let's just say it's not fiction," you end up replying, climbing the stairs in front of him one by one.

"Oh really? What kind of books are they?" he questions, his voice steady.

"Scientific books," the pain in your fingers feels like the boxes are becoming heavier by the second. "I know, sounds very exciting," you joke.

The number of times some of your friends look at you like you're an alien as you rant on about the latest in the world of science is countless.

"What kind of science?" Miguel doesn't seem to act like them on the subject though, and is actually rather curious about it.

"Bioengineering," you reply as you arrive on your shared doorstep, lifting your knee to support the boxes as you grab your keys and open the door.

As you step inside, the emptiness of the flat feels strange. The entrance leads into your corridor. You pass your bedroom door on the left, then the bathroom, and finally you get to the living room which is linked to the kitchen.

You put the boxes on the floor of it and Miguel follows your movements. You look at your fingers, the linear trace of the weight of the boxes visible.

"I love the decor," he quips, which makes you laugh softly.

"I paid a fortune for the interior decorator," you say as you turn to him, your lip stretching into a smile.

His eyes are soft, and you catch yourself looking into them more than you should.

"I don't know how to thank you enough for this."

"No te preocupes," he assures you, staring at the emptiness playing as the only item of furniture in your apartment. "When do you expect to receive the rest of your furnishings?"

“I've got a big delivery in a month's time. Bookshelf, chests of drawers, bedsprings, all my dearest dreams," you tell him.

He nods, taking his phone out of his pocket and tapping on it. It’s almost ridiculous how even his phone looks small between his fingers. He hand it to you.

"When the delivery arrives, let me know. I'll come and help you."

Slightly surprised – as pleasantly as possible – you gently take the phone, your fingers brushing against his again before you fill in your contact. You hand it to him, and it only takes a few seconds before you receive a simple message : "pretty decor," which makes you smile.

His phone then vibrates, his expression changing from amusement to exasperation without much transition.

"I've got to go," he admits.

You would’ve liked to continue this conversation, you wanted to know more about it, just maybe not in the neighbourly way.

You walk back to your front door, him brushing against you as you hold the door.

"It was nice to meet you, [Name]" he greets you, pronouncing your name one last time with a little smile, stepping back towards his door.

"Likewise, Miguel," you smile as you close yours.

The door shuts and you stand still behind it for a moment.

You could only think of one thing: the way your name sounded between his lips.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ . ★ . ჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

Common end >>

[centuryberry]

Hello! I wanted to make an ask about a what-if that was floating around in my head for a while (like 2 days.)

The “what-if” being a scenario in which a cub appears in the little dawn au form the future. Only that the cub is not Wukong’s and Macaques, it’s trafficlights trio’s future cub. (They can be from an alternate universe in which MK stay’s in sundown au or from somewhere else.)

What would be everyone’s reaction to the future grandchild/child? Personally I think their personality would be a lot like young MK or Mei (maybe a bit like macaque seeing as they probably spend a lot of time with their grandma?) and that they would be really spoiled by their grandparents and pearents.

I see the child as a female and closer to a bull demon in appearance (cus ya know, their from the demon bull clan? They kinda have to be a bull to fit in?) but honestly it could be what ever you want. (Imagine if they had the face markings like Mk’s side of the fam? Or maybe their hair is black like Mei’s?!)

As for how the child even came to be, I would say that it was through some weird magic (maybe they inserted all their power into a stone? Blood rituals/magic???)

OMG, what if the child traveled back in time to meet their Maba (bama? Baba? Papa?) MK because for what ever reason something happed to MK and he can no longer be around! Maybe he was killed! Idk, at this point I’m rambling.

Sorry for the long ask. I originally didn’t know where to send this because there are like, two blogs making posts about sundown AU and I didn’t know who I should be sending this to (but because Xiaodan is from you fic “little dawn” I decided to send this to you.)

chapter 11 was a bomb (I just finished it before sending this) and if you want you can ignore this entire ask, just tell me if you do so I don’t end up expecting anything or smt (or don’t, you can do whatever you want.)

Thank you for reading this silly and kinda dumb rambling, I honestly don’t even remember what the original ask was but thank you for reading through all this. Have a lovely day or night filled with unending joy and kind thoughts. You are appreciated and I am so great full you took time out of your life to write your stories and read through this whole thing.

Bye bye 👋

Hello there! Don’t apologize about the length of l the ask. I love to see people getting excited over this amazing AU (belonging to peachshadows/terrible-leviathan, please don’t hold off on giving them some love they deserve the world for their creativity). To clarify, the Sundown Era is their creation while Little Dawn, a fluffier spin off the AU, was expanded on by me with the fic.

As for the scenario, I’d theorize that there would be a lot of chaos. If this is happened during the Little Dawn setting with MK already dropping into the world, SD!Shadowpeach would be thrilled at the idea of another cub/calf to spoil and look forward to - also cementing their time travel theory. SD!Ironbull would he similarly doting while also pushing for the wedding sooner. I mean, it’s obviously going to happen so why not sooner?

Red Son would be flustered and over the moon at the same time at the confirmation of a child and would do his best to “prove” his ability to childrear in front of MK. I feel like Mei would think the kid is cute but also be a little nervous? She’s not at the point in life where she’s ready for a kid. Would still spoil and play with the baby, though.

As for MK? He’s just worried that another universe is missing their kid. He’s stressed and worried for not one, but two babies that don’t belong. He would be flustered about the implications of the baby’s existence if he wasn’t already in a difficult position.

Thanks for this fun ask! And thank you for reading Little Dawn!

[supercantaloupe]

Magic Flute Thoughts

i liked nathalie stutzmann's conducting a lot more in this than i did for don giovanni. granted i am much less familiar with zauberflote than i am with don g so i'm not like hyper picky about tempi or whatever yet but anyway i liked her

flute soloist! glockenspiel soloist! FLUTE SOLOIST!!!

i just like lawrence brownlee man idk what to tell you. i think he's neat. i think he's singing something here in the winter and i'll definitely try to get tickets to that if so

i really liked erin morley as pamina! actually i thought all the main cast did a good job no one stuck out to me as being particularly Amazing or Bad. kathryn lewek got a HUGE applause (and standing o) tho and i mean kudos it was her fiftieth performance like damn.

interesting choice to play the queen as physically frail as she did; i think it works and the performance is very good, although the heavy age makeup sticks out a bit on hd cameras lol

the queen's three bitches. i'm free on friday (twirling hair)

also i hope those three kids who played the old men get to borrow their outfits again come october because they have the funniest possible halloween costume opportunity in the world now

VERY funny to me that papageno's costume makes him look like he's drenched in bird shit

okay speaking of costumes. do i 100% Get It with the like suits and colors and everything....not really but i don't think i can say that i Get a lot about this opera tbh. what i did get was the very obvious dark/light symbolism going on with pamina and tamino wearing white and the queen and her cronies wearing all black. and i think zauberflote does benefit from some heavy handed symbolism bc what else is this show about actually without that....then again the fact that sarastro and his priests or whatever are all in dark colors too kind of undermines that a little so 🤷‍♀️

same thing with the whole reason vs superstition thing too like...sure you can claim Truth And Reason as good all you want sarastro but the constant invocation of isis/osiris and Mysterious Rituals kind of undermine what you're going for there lol. i think my point is that i don't feel like i really Get what zauberflote is like...going for, thematically. i mean i get the Themes but not a clear Point. maybe if i was an enlightenment era freemason i'd get it lol but alas i am not

that said......i didn't go into this one expecting a rock solid plot and honestly who does....it's zauberflote....it is very obviously not designed to work or be interpreted on a literal level and i appreciate that it never tries to ground itself in reality. that its plot and characters exist in a completely fantastic realm works and it works with the weird plot and its vague theming.

which itself is of course accomplished through good design and holy SHIT. this is truly the shining strength of this production. the design is INCREDIBLE.

the orchestra isn't totally onstage but they are raised up in the pit to the point where they are fully visible the whole show. i love an onstage orchestra so this made me very happy. and it allowed for actor/orchestra interaction which i also love!! like tamino coming down into the pit to hand the eponymous magic flute to the flute soloist and bring him onstage with him (i was wondering during the overture why the flutes and oboes were swapped places seating wise -- it's so the flutist can easily get onstage! delight!!), or when papageno brings his glockenspiel to the percussion soloist to play (the player being 'missing' at his last solo, making papageno play by himself, and he enters late with a cup of coffee...lmaoo). also stutzmann giving a big ol grin and thumbs up to papageno during his duet with papagena at the end. so sweet

also blocking around the orchestra seating of the audience and up the aisles! so much fun we love immersive theater

the set itself had this big flat platform in the center hoisted at each corner by a cord so it could raise/lower/tilt in any direction. made for some very neat staging with levels and slants and i enjoyed that, especially since the production forgoes any kind of traditional set pieces

papageno's birds were done in such a beautiful way omg...they have an ensemble in black wandering around stage and following him about when he's doing stuff and they each have a 'bird' made of a folded in half piece of paper that they flutter about stylistically (some of the orchestra members have some too that they flutter during his entrance aria). description does not do it justice, this was a beautiful way to stage it...so simple and evocative.

the designer was saying in the interview between acts that this production was meant to combine the high and low tech aspects of theater to connect present performance practice with the opera as it was originally done (hence the visible orchestra) and i looove that philosophy. and it worked here really well i think

THE FOLEY AND PROJECTION ARTISTS. STARS OF THE SHOW. i am not joking

they get to be onstage (albeit off to the sides) the whole show too and i love it. i love that the cameras on the broadcast kept cutting to them periodically to show off their work.

the use of live projection art was really well done -- he managed to make Writing On A Chalkboard captivating!!

and the foley. the FOLEY!!! i've done sound design and a bit of live foley before so i have a soft spot but wooow she did an amazing job and it was SO much fun to see all the props she played with to make the scenes come alive sonically. plus her little interactions with papageno were very funny. give her a tony award

i do think there were a couple of small moments here and there that didn't entirely work for me or a scene or two that dragged out longer than necessary but overall it was a joy to watch. the beautiful and whimsical design of the whole thing totally makes it worthwhile even if the plot itself is a bit lacking.

easily THE coolest production design i've seen the met do yet, and the best lighting and projections from them for sure. when it comes on demand i am forcing anyone i can to watch it with me bc that SET! the LIGHTING! the SOUND! the STAGING! it ticks all my boxes it hits all my buttons it was MADE for ME SPECIFICALLY

[faithfromanewperspective]

james/judith herondale, neurodivergence and the sticky lens of gender

Girl in a dress with black curling hair in a low ponytail. Resigned, brave, so used to the shadow world and the uncertainty and horror it brings on a regular basis, that it's just a part of everyday life. She's the James we know, yes, but the vibe seems a little different. As if the world were viewed through a different colour lens, or you woke up suddenly in a different dimension where things are similar enough to be familiar, but just feel off. Unmistakable, yet. She's a bit more blunt, and her independence hits a little different. Especially when she seems so fragile, her story narrated through a sheen of sadness. She's cold, and her hands always are, golden eyes not a symbol of warmth--maybe she reminds us a little of the midnight heir. Or nbs. But, as the reader, you want nothing more than to hug her, until whatever's got her so wound up disintegrates, and you're left with a character that's so interesting you can see why they had to be characterised twice.

Recently, I have gotten into the amazing @thevagabondexpress's genderbent tlh series (seriously, check them out, they are in some ways better than the originals and I do not say that lightly). Anyway, like any good protest song/punk album should, they got me thinking. A lot. About something I thought was mostly a social construct and relatively inconsequential until it changed the whole plot more and more as the series went on--and gave me a new way of viewing some of the characters I thought I might share.

First, we visit James (the one character I'll fight anyone for interpretations of), reconstructed as Judith Herondale.

I never thought this recharacterisation would get me so emotional! I guess it hit me how much I'm used to really well characterised male characters in tsc--and female not so much. But, as it turns out, it doesn't have to be this way. And my mind is blown. Because it's been a long time, so long I can't remember, probably back to my tween years and jacqueline wilson novels, since I've seen a female character that just stands out beyond the pages and shows me things about myself that I hadn't seen before in bold, enthralling colour. She's James, but she's not. (this is long long, you've been warned!)

The first thing I noticed was that Judith's independence and stubborn need to solve any problem or mystery that arises is a bit more noticeable--in contrast to what's expected of a woman of the era. She reminds me a little of Clary actually. But I think what stands out is that, unlike a lot of our female protagonists, she doesn't have a male character showing her the ropes or taking the lead in all the adventures she leads her friends on. And, somehow, still, it seems unusual and unsafe for a girl to be going on her own to do what she does. When she wanders around London after the breakup with Grace. It seems a little more unhinged, desperate, and a little more noticeable. And there are more occasions similar to this, I don't want to spoil it for the reader (the plot deviates from canon quite a lot especially as the series progresses). But my point is, it leaves you as the reader worried. A lot of things about Judith do, actually.

Second, James is said to be the leader of his friend group; Judith definitely is. She takes care of her little brother and his friends. She's most at home with the rest of the Revolutionary... something (aka the Merry Thieves in canon) and I love love love seeing the friendship the four of them have (or at least Judith has with the other three). Gender doesn't change that, and it's really refreshing to see those kind of intense, no-pretense, light-in-the-darkness kinds of friendships among women. Makes me miss my primary school friend group, but also, for the first time, shows me something of what we could still be, represented in our own gender. Yes, this friend group have their own problems, and they suffer as they would when Judith slowly unravels (more on that later). But for now, overall, I love how she takes care of the others, especially Christa (in comparison to canon, because James and Christopher was a friendship I didn't see explored or resolved the way it deserved, and James does sometimes treat him in a bit of a derogatory way). Still, just as James does encourage and support his friends to thrive as they are and access the things that bring them joy, Judith also does something similar in the way she leads them on adventures. I don't know if a style of leadership that isn't too bossy and more collaborative is harder to recognise as leadership at all when a man does it than a woman? Or maybe our canon James doesn't actually live up to his 'leader' role on page as much as Judith does. I'm not sure. Please comment!

Just like James, Judith seems more neurodivergent during alt-COI and after, during the enchantment and after it's off and she's making sense of what's happened to her--but then going back to alt-COG, you can kinda fill in the gaps. She's definitely (probably) autistic and reminds me of someone. Some kind of stereotypical female protagonist who solves things and is stubborn--Anne of Green Gables? Nancy Drew? Scout Finch? Seriously, guys, let me know who it might be. I don't have the best memory for books (and shows) I consumed 10-20 years ago. Unless it's Clary again. I can't remember. But, back to James, I think seeing Judith has reminded me of how he reminds me much more of a more common female protagonist who you're kinda viewing the story through their eyes and they don't have a larger-than-life personality like many of our Herondale or otherwise men do. (I find it kind of refreshing, and hey, he is Tessa's son, and not everyone can be Matthew Fairchild.) But somehow, Judith manages to be both. A bigger personality, in some ways? Or is it just James as a girl is more jarring and more memorable? Or is she slightly different? Or is it just that she's culturally more allowed to feel her feelings? (More on this later). Anyway, her personality stands out, but also not. She's kind of a shadow, quiet, going through the world not really as the centre of people's attention, not really wanting to be, liking to be on equal footing with her friends. Slow to open up, ready to escape a bit with a book or something at most times (or literally turn into shadow), most at home with a small circle of similar friends. Uncomfortable with being taken care of--whether out of preference or just not thinking of anyone ever taking care of her, we're not sure. Probably seems lost in her head quite often though she's present with those closest to her or who she's focused on to solve something. Especially when she's not under an enchantment. Feels, processes things quietly, uncomfortable with crowds but not standing up for what's right or true in front of them. On guard with a world who so often say hurtful things, but accepts and has processed things the way they are, and yet, does always seem to be weighed down by something (we discussed PDD/dysthymia, and as Thomas says, 'James's eyes were always haunted'). Shadowed. She's a lot like James, like she should be. So why does her personality seem to stand out more? Is it just because when a boy has ideas and likes to feel things alone rather than talk about it immediately, it's normal, but when a girl does she's awkward and headstrong? Or is there more to it?

I had a bit of a theory based on something I noticed about James that was taken away to--increase the efficiency and effectiveness of the plotline. So that miscommunication doesn't do more damage than actual demons. And that is this weird insecurity James has about worrying his parents. It's like he senses that they long for him to be happy and have friends and everything. You know Will and Tessa. It makes perfect sense. And James being James, he feels I think both a little suffocated by this and pressure to make them happy in return (good old slight accidental neurodivergent enmeshment, not that I think they're actually enmeshed per se, just all very sensitive to each other's emotions and slightly misapplying principles of kindness and well-wishing with blurry boundaries. or maybe that's the definition of enmeshment). Anyway, he does this as subconsciously as any form of neurodivergent masking for those of us who are also high-masking and intuitively highly attuned to others' energies: he puts on a facade, the way he communicates, to try and tell them what they want to hear. Be what they want him to be (and actually beats himself up a fair bit when he isn't, especially when he was younger). It develops into lying being his go-to response when he doesn't feel safe enough or the right kind of focused attention that adults around him can afford, to tell the truth. He's such a well-intentioned and relatable liar. Something about how the nervous system works and a lesson on how honesty is a two-way street made much more feasible by communicated safety, acceptance and lack of reactivity. I could go on. Cordelia is kind of the same, James finds it relatable, and it almost destroys their marriage about a thousand times in its first month. I can relate. Many of you can too. Take it as a lesson. Practice cultivating both honesty and the environment it thrives in. And if you want to see what happens when it's actually used, take a look at this AU.

Judith is more direct, and this, I think, comes out in both her narration and the actual plot. Because James' 'I'm-actually-okay' masking comes out even in the way he thinks/communicates. He goes through life, feeling and experiencing everything in the moment as it is, but it's as if he accepts it so as not to dwell on it and worry something. He seems like he's taking skills from therapy and taking them a little too far. Or is I-must-not-worry-or-burden-you just the only language he knows? Probably both. Judith, on the other hand, yes she feels so much she dissociates herself all the way into shadow and teleporting MUCH farther than just Chiswick at least once, but her habitual go-to isn't straight up lying, or concealing anything, really (it could have saved her getting arrested like Cordelia did for James if she was a bit more like him, or maybe not, but it is how it is). And as a result, everything is closer to the surface and you can't help but want to give her a hug. There it is. I think I mostly answered my own question. And it's great, too, to have female characters you can just feel so easily as a reader. Who don't seem to be masking in the way they communicate (narrate). Refreshing. We need more examples of this.

And that, also, I think is why as a reader it can be harder to see just how much James is going through during TLH. Combined with the fact Cordelia does view him through kind of rose-coloured glasses (which, honestly, is more what James needs in comparison to either sympathy which he hates or the bigoted disgust at his heritage that definitely has impacted his self-esteem). Whereas, I think with Judith it's a lot easier. And it's physically painful when we see her slowly losing it, or her guilt later, once she can feel things again. And yet, she's also very practical even then, able to pour herself into the task at hand. As stubborn and resilient as she is fragile. As resourceful as she is disabled, both happy to rely on others in respectful community and able to rescue herself and others as well. She bends the simple categories we put characters in based on their personalities, seeming to be multiple contradictory things. Which is both what a realistic person does, and is just like James. No one only needs rescuing, and no one is only a rescuer. Certainly not when we try to put gendered stereotypes on those things. Judith would hate being helpless, if you thought that was what a woman was supposed to be. And James would hate that too, but he would also lose the humanity, sensitivity and relatableness we love so much if he were only a hero. And Cordelia would lose her admirer. No one wants that.

I really liked Claude and Judith's relationship dynamic: it was realistic and still an abstraction of canon, even if Judith, if she has loved Claude romantically for years like James has Cordelia, she doesn't realise it yet (even once the spell is gone). They respect each other and mostly stand up for themselves too. I wish we could get more of Judith trying to figure out what she felt (just to see how it compares to canon). But maybe romance is romanticised as much as gender is normalised in the colours we're told to view the world through, and this is both more realistic and actually healthy--as healthy as you can get given the circumstances.

Overall, there's one big change (more honesty), a small one (lack of romanticising romance and unchanging childhood love) and I think the rest is pretty consistent between James and Judith, but the way I at least perceived it, are coloured by the view we have of gender (and the Big Change does exacerbate some of this, and also some of it does unfortunately have to do with physical safety less than purely constructed social norms). Of many of the things that are common and were abstracted, I could say are hard to capture and translate into a different context but still do equally.

Judith got me thinking a lot, because James is a character I relate to a lot both with how I mask my neurodivergence and personality, and what's actually underneath, and seeing a 'female version' I guess (who is also more unmasked) made me double take a fair bit and think--am I actually like that, when I'm not pretending to be what they want to see of me? And maybe, just maybe, that's actually a pretty cool thing to be.

*they/them referring to the quadrilogy, not its author (who did such a great job and got me thinking so much through the stories). This character will always remind me to eat some iron when I feel the depression setting in. Just to cover all bases. Stay tuned for more of said thinking about the other characters!

[showamagicalgirls]

Yusrarel, Minky Momo Episode 5

I posted recently about the fifth episode of Magical Princess Minky Momo (魔法のプリンセス ミンキー モモ), which involves a made-up country somewhere in the Mediterranean region. The first comment I received on that post was a snide remark that it didn't appear to be an imaginary country but rather simply Spain. At first I felt defensive, but the commenter was right that there were flamenco dancers and, the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I should rewatch the episode and pay a little closer attention so I could parse all of the details, particularly because this is exactly the kind of thing I'm interested in.

The subtitles on the version of this show I'm watching render the country's name as Yusrarel. I don't know for sure but I assume that would be ユスラレル, which could also be transliterated into the Roman alphabet as Yusurareru. This is somewhat close to the way Israel is transliterated into Japanese -- Isuraeru (イスラエル).

The reason the prince of Yusrarel has come to Japan is to deliver a rare three-humped camel to a local zoo. This is, of course, the tie-in to the show's animal and veterinary theme.

In addition to the camel, another key cultural element that makes this country seem like it could be in the Middle East-North Africa region is the style of headdress they wear. We see two turbans -- a white/cream one and a black/navy one. Neither are exactly like real world headdresses from any region but they are certainly reminsicent.

One thing that I think is worth mentioning here is that the prince is depicted as having curly red hair and freckles. Of course, it's fraught to over interpret racial phenotypes in Showa era anime, and it is also noteworthy that these traits are more widespread throughout the Mediterranean region than we might guess based on stereotypes. For example, I have met people in Tunisia with red hair which might not have been what I would have assumed before I had been there.

Also, his name is Prince Tam Tam (タムタム王子), which I don't think really gives any clues to the culture they're constructing.

One thing that is kind of neither here nor there in terms of interpreting this imaginary country but that I thought was still very fun was the appearance of this Christian omamori (御守) for safe travels. It's funny to see something so Shinto in a Christian fom.

So my commenter was right that part of this episode takes place in Madrid, Spain. This was the line I missed the first time I watched this that actually makes a big difference in trying to understand the geography of this episode.

The last scene does take place in the palace in Yusrarel, which looks very European to me. It looks like Versailles or something.

So, while some of the episode takes place in Japan and some does take place in Spain, Yusrarel is definitely imaginary and combines elements of several existing cultures, adding in a dash of the fantastic. It reminds me a bit of the way Showa majokko series treat Africa, which I also noted recently here and here.

All of this also reminds me of the contemporary series, Patalliro! (パタリロ!), which I am primarily interested in because of its groundbreaking queer content. But it also takes place in a fantastical European country called Malynera. It ran against Minky Momo on Thursday nights on a different channel.

[shiningwonho]

5, 13, 14, 32, 47 for the kpop asks? (I haven't seen one of these in a while and I miss them!)

hiiii thank you! putting under a read more bc there are pictures LOL

kpop ask game

5. who was your very first bias? jackson LOL i may have strayed from got7 a bit at the start of my kpop journey but they've always been the foundation.

13. your favourite hairstyle on your bias(es)? okay i'm just gonna do my biases from my main 4 ults LOL.

wonho - he doesn't change the styling of it much, just more so the colour. i'll always love blonde on him tbh.

donghun - during favourite boys era! the silvery hair....oof

bambam - his styling in you are era was great!

hoshi - i like that man BLONDE OKAY and slightly shorter but still not short-short

san - like wonho the styling hasn't changed too much, it's mainly the colour he changes. but tbh i'm partial to his black hair, a stark change from the rest of my biases LOL

14. your bias(es) best look? i guess this is kind of similar to the last one but who cares lol

wonho - what look DON'T i like lmfao god okay let me try and choose. these ones are pretty good 🥴🥴🥴

donghun - similar answer to the last one bc tHIS PHOTO? HELLO?

bambam - honestly the most recent era was probably one of his best

hoshi - okay this one is actually hard hm. OH. his elle magazine shoot is so good

san - god okay the styling he's had on tour lately is...........jesus

32. a group you've been eyeing for a while but couldn't get into them yet? onf and oneus! don't ask why i haven't yet, idk idk.

47. did you get into any new groups this year (2024)? i suppose nomad! tho they've still done so little it's kind of hard to say i've gotten into them lmao

thanks for the excuse to post hot photos of my biases LOL

[21smashedpotatoes]

Woke up with a clear nose but I'm pretty sure that's because of the 120 oz of water I drink so soon as I went to the bathroom and snamed I immediately got clogged again. Still wheezing, not coughing as much. Trying to force myself to drink 33 Oz of water I'm just too lazy to walk downstairs, I'm sure I will go soon, that could be what's stopping me from having an unclogged nose. Don't have any real plans for breakfast, never do, still feel bloated from chicken Fila two days ago and the Ramen I packed on afterwards.

Relationship has been one big joke from 1 extreme end to the other complete extreme I could be happy in love with my soulmate and literally the next 2nd I'm confused and packing my s*** about to move out and be f****** homeless because of the dumb a** fights we're having. I wanna say they're my fault but they're not they've only recently been meeting more serious about my happiness and that could lead into me actually sticking up for myself which is going to cause a bit more friction. I miss my friends I miss my zip code I miss my state's mindset about every topic even if they are still a tad f****** racist cause God forbid everywhere is racist if you're not going to get no racism in the Colorado hippie state guess what that means everybody is f***** therefore I'm trying to go back to the least racist m************ location and this g****** stupid f****** s*** country. Colorado has this way of being progressive so even though their human beings are pieces of s*** the people still will acknowledge what they have done and that the themselves are still weak points for these types of negatives and fall back in society basically with sentences like well we're all guilty of it so we can start with addressing when it happens it's a drug set drive so That kind of mindset will go a lot farther than OMG racism doesn't exist and slavery was ended 400 years ago et cetera et cetera like 1st of all no it did not end up 400 years ago it ended barely 100 years ago on top of that the real problem with racism is this segregation movement that we just went through not even 30 to 40 f****** years ago But everybody wants to talk game like it's slavery that we're talking about no I am talking about racism racism is not slavery racism is more aligned with the f****** segregation that they put everybody through for some g****** as reason more b******* people want to focus on slavery when it's like, no, the problem is the treatment. So therefore it feels like we're still up for it because people are still f****** psychiatric and treating people differently like s*** like they don't know each other because they don't know each other that's why white people are so d*** curious about black people's hair and you've heard an uproar of people complaining about people touching other people's hair because literally the curiosity era is post segregation and it's a little hard to deal with when white people don't know what's microaggressive Versus curious and when some black people Aren't willing to keep talking about the same s*** over and over again when there's a grandiose amount of f****** research online is basically about anything like people don't like answering questions about stuff in general like I've seen it about diet culture people f****** losing weight too they don't like answering the same questions when you're bidding this s*** for 2 or 3 years googling everything yourself and then I'll budge people just want to ask you how you did it and it's like Well I could explain it to you but then you're gonna ask me what the f*** I'm talking about and then I might be like I'm literally is not about that not much I got I'll just for these people to walk away not know and Jack s*** about anything you just said and in the meantime they're over here trying to convince you to either tone it down or that it's you're impossible. That's why it's just easier to walk away move on with your life from focus on you because all these people if you really want to know will your Google search bars right in your pocket that's that. Happy black month.

I had life with bananas again

217

[ibunyang]

the change i think is more evident on pluto think emoji, since from the start ive been so indecisive about how his hair looks or if i wanted him to look latino in general most recent pluto;

early 2023 era pluto ;

smh whenever i drew him i always wanted to draw him before his canon event where he does meet the rest of the crew, smh i kind of do prefer his black hair so i might change it again, since i like the contrast more, his tattoos on these pictures r missing too since it was pre-canon but i want to actually decide whats on his skin, or maybe just the one on his neck the one that mostly remained the same is clovis? i changed his eye color to green, and made plutos blue instead, even on the most recent one i kind of knew what image i wanted for clovis, body wise i still wanted him to kind or remain one of the scrawnier ones in the group, but at the same time he's the type of guy who likes working out, so i figured having a little bit more muscle on him wouldnt be such a bad thing late 2022;

for hyde...

(2022) god knows the ammount of rework ive done for his hair, i hate HATE HATEE drawing buzz cuts i just dont get how they work, but i knew i liked seeing him in shorter hairstyles/buzz it just seemed to fit, and hydes the type of person who would rather put a beanie on instead of bothering with his hair anyway, for the more recent one i wanted to but more emphasis on his nose? he's arab kaito thankfully, ive been set on an actual look for them

sometimes i can never get the length their hair right so i end up relying on my overpaint layer, which is fine honestly but i get bothered when the shades of the background dont match up but u know its my fault that im too lazy to go back and actually fix it from the line art itself LMAO Zee.........loml my shining star my absolute favorite, the rest of these guys only came about just because of my darling mort, ive been consistent with his design from day one

(2020) ive made a few changes on him as well, with the changes that come from how much ive fleshed him out/ how i ended up wanting them to present themselves. they used to have a prosthetic leg simply because i thought it would be a cool character design choice, but now its only implemented in certain aus i have with him

(2022/2021)

i wanted him to have a more feminine figure instead of a masculine one honestly, 1.) it was something i enjoyed doing 2.) i really like the comparison between him and the guy i have paired with him and im a suckkerr for that kind of stuff lol i removed one of his face scars, sometimes even forget to draw it on entirely, i love the his bleached to death hair and his pointy eyes i love him so much honestly its kind of embarrassing how attached i am to azie

i love seeing the progression of these boys O(-( so much i care theem so much and just seeing my artstyle change in general i like seeing it evolve

[justwritedreams]

We never go out of style | Jeno

Jeno x Reader, university au! Word count: 2843 Genre: fluff Author: maari Warnings: Language, mentions of jeno and reader sleeping together, short mentions of alcohol and they being with other people, kinda suggestive. Note: Jeno + Taylor Swift song’s = 🤌 Jeno Hot Sauce era is superior and you guys know it. Request: Helloooo, can I request an scenario based on Taylor swift's song Style with Jeno? like you both are a thing and are always dancing around each other but never really make it official and sometimes even try to be in relationships with other people but in the end always gravitate towards each other, pretty please

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Y/N didn't want to notice that his black hair was longer than the last time she'd seen it a few weeks ago, she didn't want to notice that he ran his hand through his locks all the time and the strands that fell over his dark eyes made him even more attractive. That damn pretty and attractive face. Her eyes shouldn't have searched him through the crowd, but there she was, in the middle of a party she'd promised to have fun to forget about him, looking at him. She didn't understand how a man wearing a red and black jacket, a random white t-shirt, ripped-knee jeans and white sneakers could look so tempting, but there he was, attracting the attention of all the girls and even hers. Jeno never went unnoticed.

"Did you come in red to kill someone's heart?" Y/N saw her best friend approach her and rolled her eyes. She knew that Jeno loved it when she wore red but it wasn't because of him that she had chosen that dress. Well, not just because of him. "Have you seen that Jeno is there?" "I saw it, and it wouldn't be different, he lives in this fraternity, unfortunately." Y/N replied, watching Jeno laugh over something Mark was saying. She bit her bottom lip as he tipped his head back, the back of his exposed neck shouldn't have attracted her so much. She shouldn't remember all the times she'd kissed fair skin, all the times her lipsticks had creased the skin. It was always good. Too good. "Have you seen Jackson?" Y/N asked, shaking her head as if to push away all the memories. She turned her attention to her best friend even though she felt someone watching her, she didn't need to turn around to know. "I don't think he comes, you know, he's a tutor. He doesn't hang around students at parties" Y/N laughed in disbelief. He didn't hang around but he loved tutoring her in privacy. "I'm going to get something to drink." Y/N warned when she saw Jaehyun approaching, clearly interested in her best friend. It wasn't her who was going to get in the way between them. Y/N went to the frat kitchen, knew the place like the back of her hand from the many times she'd been there, and dodged several students until she reached the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Water. She would never put a sip of alcohol in her mouth again until this attraction to Jeno didn't go away, or else it would end the same way every time. She waking up the next day beside him. The headache wasn't even a problem anymore, or the hangover. The problem was how much she missed Jeno after she left. So she decided to go outside the fraternity and watched some people as she sat in the farthest place. She wanted to dance but they still hadn't put on her favorite kind of music and the drunks were too busy competing with the drinks to leave the room with enough space for her to dance until dawn. So she stood there alone as she drank her water and thought of a way to get Jeno out of her head. She should have asked her friend which side of her head she could hit to erase her memory, it would be simpler that way since her mind was way too stubborn. "Water, really?" Y/N closed her eyes for a moment when heard the steady voice behind her. She wanted to hit herself because the little hairs stood on end in record time. "You were more fun, Y/N." She took a deep breath before turning her head back and looking up to face Jeno. She looked up slowly with anger at her body reacting so thirstily just for him standing there. Okay, he was handsome and hot but her reason must prevail at such times. Right? She found a smirk and she wanted to bite his full pink lips, so she swallowed any and all answers that crossed her mind and just rolled her eyes, turning her head forward again. She could ignore him. She was strong enough for that… but he didn't need to wear such strong perfume and make the task difficult. "I don't remember getting your tongue but something else." she heard him answer and her body shivered at the memory. She got the reference and the little joke. No, the cat hadn't got her tongue. But she was afraid to hold a conversation with him because they were never just in conversation. "Leave me alone, Jeno." she asked low and held the bottle tightly. She didn't want him to leave just there, but also in her head. "That's not what you said last month." Yeah, she remembered that night. And all the others she had succumbed to the desire to have him with her. He didn't need to make an effort to remind her, she woke up every day with the scenes in her head and she missed his arms holding her tight. Annoyed with herself, Y/N stood up, managing to keep herself steady and upright as she was now closer to him. "Why don't you go after, what's her name, Hana?" she asked and Jeno laughed, the sound coming out of his nose. "Hana? The dean's daughter?" He questioned and saw Y/N cross her arms and nodded in agreement. The move didn't go unnoticed by Jeno as her breasts lifted subtly. "Everyone knows there's something going on between you two." Y/N felt as if her heart had withered inside. It hurt to say that out loud, more than to hear her friends commenting that they had seen him with someone else. Jeno took a deep breath and wet his lips with his own tongue, a move that caught Y/N's attention. "Your sources are wrong." he replied firmly and dryly, his jaw clenched and his eyes staring at Y/N intensely. As always. Y/N laughed bitterly. "The entire campus then." "I gave her a ride once or twice and then automatically I'm sleeping with her?" "At two in the morning, that answer is a little obvious, don't you think?" she asked, annoyed. It was this topic she wanted to avoid at that party and everywhere she could find Jeno, but that situation had been going on for so long that now was the time to explode. Jeno shook his head. "You're sleeping with your tutor!" he accused. "In the end, neither of us has the right to demand anything." "That's the problem!" she replied loudly and then bit her tongue. She wasn't supposed to say that. In the beginning, things were just meant to be carnal, pure desire. Jeno was the beautiful guy on campus and also the friendliest, he was easy to be around and Y/N didn't think being with him would be so intoxicating. But was. And very fast. One day they were just sleeping together after their mutual friends went out with them and the next she was already in love, even though she knew it would just be a hookup. Technically, she didn't know Jeno was such a gentleman. She always thought he was the bad boy he appeared to be, that he just wanted to enjoy, she never imagined that on the second night they would spend together, after making her come 3 times in the same night he would worry so affectionately and still would hold her all the time as it was a cold night. Well, it was hard not to fall in love with him after that. The nights came and the caresses too, Jeno became more constant in her routine and there was no way to stop, because the truth is that she didn't want to stop. She liked receiving food that Jeno sent from Jaemin, or the messages Jeno sent her every time he finished his workout. And most of all, she loved spending the night talking to him about silly things. How she was still afraid of horror movies or how she wasted time watching cat videos on the internet. And again, it wasn't her fault. Jeno reciprocated with the same intensity, it was almost as if he felt the same things for her, although neither of them had really talked about it. Run the risk of ending everything they had by having a deeper conversation about what it was that they were experiencing? No way. But that situation was killing her, mainly because she didn't know what they were so being with other people wasn’t wrong but that's what it felt like to her. In theory they were free to be with whoever they wanted but in practice, at least for Y/N she didn't want to be with anyone else. And the fact that she'd slept with her tutor once was out of sheer desperation. She wanted to get Jeno out of her mind, in vain. Clearly. “You know what, forget what I said.” she avoided his gaze and was about to walk away when Jeno took her gently by the arm just as her favorite song started to play. The bottle fell out of her hand when Jeno's big hand came into contact with the skin covered by the sleeve of her dress, even though the fabric made it a little bit difficult to feel the palm directly on her skin, she still shivered from head to toe. Mainly because when she turned to face him, Jeno was staring into her eyes in a way she couldn't look away. "Dance to me." he asked lowly and she felt her legs go weak. Jeno knew that song because Y/N danced whenever she could, at frat parties, in the middle of the beach when they were alone, in Jeno's room. He loved how she swayed her hips from side to side, she could never forget the way he stared at her every time she let the music lead her even if she felt like a fool. She wanted to retort, to say that she knew what he was doing and that she wasn't going to fall for that trick. But it was a lie. Because she smiled, lowering her head and took a deep breath before nodding, Jeno's hand went all the way down her arm making her skin crawl once more as she pulled back enough to start swaying to Style's rhythm. Y/N closed her eyes as Jeno brought their bodies closer, the heat he gave off along with the scent was the perfect combination she'd been missing, weeks without being near him had been torture. She felt his hands go from her waist and up her back, causing her to bring her arms up. When Y/N opened her eyes again, she saw Jeno bring their faces closer together, his nose brushing her forehead and although his eyes were too attractive, she noticed that with his arms raised his white shirt rose slightly leaving his skin exposed and also the vein that she used to kiss several times. She wanted to do that right then, but Jeno interrupted her thoughts when he made her put her own arms around his neck, Jeno's strong hands went to Y/N's hips and matched the rhythm she danced as their breaths met, not in the way they both wanted. “I gave Hana a ride, it’s true, but you know what was on my mind the whole time?” he spoke softly and Y/N shook her head, she didn't even have the strength to answer, not when his face was so close. As it hadn't been for weeks. "Your red mouth marking my neck in the back seat of my car." It was enough for Y/N to feel her whole body on fire, with the memory of that day, her legs not only got weak again, her body was throbbing in a single point. "No matter how many girls try to flirt with me, how many girls I try to hook up with, I can't stop thinking about you." "Me too." she admitted in a pained whisper. In the next second, she felt Jeno take one of the hands from her waist and lead it to Y/N's loose hair and hold her by the back of her neck, she couldn't think of anything else as he brought his face closer and pressed their lips together in a desperate way. Y/N sighed when she felt Jeno's full lips capture hers tightly, she had missed that so much, with his hand on the back of her neck Jeno deepened the kiss sooner than she imagined and pulled her against his body, practically crushing the trunks together, it was only then that she realized he had missed her as much as she had. When their tongues met and she could taste the mint, the hands that were on the back of his neck went to the shoulder and squeezed tightly as she lost herself in the sensation of having him against her mouth again. The desperation was so bad that Y/N was just noticing that Jeno had picked her up off the ground and pressed her against the wooden fence around the frat, when her back hit the material with a loud thud. But she didn't want to stop grabbing Jeno's shoulders, in fact she was ready to take off that stupid jacket that prevented her from feeling the warm skin and her fingers started to play with the piece as she felt his fingers tighten around her waist so hard that soon she would have marks there. Not that it was unusual for the two of them. But when Jeno positioned his leg between Y/N's legs, she had to place her hands on his firm chest and pull him away for a brief moment, first to catch her breath and second because that was the closeness she needed, it wasn't actually enough to satisfy her cravings but his thigh was against the place she wanted most. However, even if she wanted to give in to the lust of the bodies, pushing him away she realized where it was going to take her. “Jeno.” she spoke between heavy breaths but Jeno didn't let go, he just moved because she had pushed him but he wouldn't get out of there. And she didn't want to stop, but she needed to. “I don't want this to be just another night. I can no longer live in this vicious cycle.” So that was it. That was the last kiss before she finished breaking her heart. But it was the truth. “What if I want more? What if I don't want it to be just one night too?" he replied and she looked at him suspiciously. "You don't know what you want." she pushed him further and the hand that was on the back of her neck left the place along with an immense cold. Jeno moved his face away so he could face her better but kept his hand on her waist and their torsos together, refusing to move away from her now. "And not even you." he accused, causing her to suck in a large amount of air he had stolen. He couldn't be serious. To be honest, that was Jeno. The most popular guy on campus, all the girls threw themselves at his feet, all would kill and die for the opportunity she was having at the moment. To have his leg against the place she most needed him. And he wouldn't give up that attention. “Jeno, you're not one for serious relationships. You’re not that, you like a good fuck.” Y/N remembered and saw him smile with his eyes. “Correctly, I'm not one to have serious relationships with just anyone. You’re not just anyone.” Y/N felt her heart speed up again, just right now she had just gotten it under control. “And everyone likes a good fuck.” Y/N stared at him seriously, scanning every inch for any spark and uncertainty, which she didn't find. "You’re serious." she finished and saw him nod impatiently. "I mean, you really mean it." “And why wouldn't I? We're like magnets, Y/N, no matter how far we go, we'll always be looking for each other.” “And you want me to be your fixed one?” she questioned, more to herself, she wasn't accepting that it was real and not a dream. “I want you to be my girlfriend, is that so hard to understand?” It wasn't difficult, she just couldn't believe it wasn't one of her fantasies. "No, it's not." she smiled slightly and rubbed her face to make sure it wasn't a hallucination. And it wasn't because she'd only had water. "Then can we go upstairs and finish what we started before I rip that dress of yours out of here." Knowing Jeno, she knew this wasn't a threat but a promise.

[blacksunscorpio]

Aphrodite No. 1388

Have you ever found yourself inexplicably fascinated with Hollywood sex symbols, fashion, arts, or general glamor? You've probably chalked it up to your Venus placement or stellium in the 2nd or 7th [The houses Venus rules] but what if I told you that might not be the only reason?

Yes, Asteroid Aphrodite No. 1388 is the placement you may want to peep. Especially if she's making prominent placements or aspects to your inner planets. Note: Pay attention to conjunctions/squares/oppositions the most and orbs within 0-3 degrees. Trines and sextiles are of note but only if they are respecting inner planets, the ascendant, and at the aforementioned degrees.

So let's get into it:

Aphrodite in Mythology

was the goddess of sex, love, beauty, passion, fertility, prosperity, and procreation. She was also patron goddess of prostitutes and believed no one should leave this world a virgin. She was wife of the god Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and fire but also the most notable lover of Ares [her 'Soul mate'. So what does she represent in the birth chart?

All of the above.

Asteroid Aphrodite in her elevated expression is all about love, beauty, talent, and sex appeal. She is compassionate and generous. Independent, strong in her femininity, and charming. This asteroid has the ability to see beauty in everything and has an innate knack for creativity and artistic talents. A developed and healthy expression of sexuality and passion [not the toxic kind but the kind true love stories are made of]. She's all positive pleasure and sensuality. Body positivity and healthy expressions of sex.

In her base or lower expression, she's a bit like a toxic Lilith. She'll manifest as using attractiveness for underhanded means. Infidelity, repression of the sexual drive, callousness in love or arrogance based on vanity, vanity in general, sexual manipulation, fickleness, fixation of impossible standards of beauty, or superficiality regarding aesthetics. [Basically everything wrong with fashion and beauty today.] She can also manifest in the 6th house and/or ill-aspected as those who suffer from body dysmorphia or those who suffer from eating disorders due to these impossible beauty standards. Physical perfection becomes an obsession.

Now, if you have this particular asteroid prominently based in your chart, you may find that you value beauty, pleasure, and romance. There might be a taste for refined aesthetics and/or one can just be naturally gifted with creativity and art. Career-wise, one could find themselves drawn to jobs that revolve around fashion, interior design, modeling, make-up, photography, cooking, etc. If she's touching Mars or in the 8th, one could find themselves making sex work a part of their career as well.

Aphrodite in the signs

Aries: Two words: Sexuality promiscuous. Like the sign of Aries, the fire burns hot then goes out. Freedom and independence are paramount and they value those who see things similarly. Getting too emotionally invested in others is not appearing to them in any way, here for a good time, not a long time. Sporty aesthetic. Athleisure. Sex will likely be hard and fast.

Taurus: Love of the material. Base-level treasure seekers. However, they are typically quite attractive and even look pleasant when they don't put much effort in. Follow trends and keep up with the day-to-day fashion world. Most likely an Instagram fashion influencer. Love of glitz and glam. Shinier the better. Diamonds are their best friend.

Gemini: Serial fuckers. Literally, this aphrodite placement will have a full black book of names. A thousand notches on the belt. A million notches on the bedpost... well, you get the idea. Very charismatic and uses their intelligence to seduce. Sapiosexuals. Stimulate their mind and you might keep their attention... for an hour as opposed to 15 minutes like the rest. Will know everyone and everything about everyone. Life of the party and will charm with their wit.

Cancer: The emotional lover. Don't let this food you though, hurt them and they'll pull out their pincers. This Aphrodite placement loves to be nurtured and taken care of and will often do the same. Mood affects appearance. Charms using one of two things: their hard to get energy [Crabshell] or their love of family and togetherness [4th house]. No in-between, really.

Leo: Worship me vibes. Lovers of attention. This placement is very prideful. They don't like to share [their lovers] at all. Typically though, because of their love of the spotlight, their fashion sense is impeccable. They are hard to miss and will usually light up a room. Ignore them and you'll wound them.

Virgo: Immediate/outwardly "perfect" appearance. Because of this sign's attention to detail, they are often very pristine in their approach. Clean sex- the type in the shower or when one is freshly groomed around the genital area. Will use their "perfection" to pull the cream of the crop in the dating pool their way. This placement can go far in the fashion world and may even become designers. Often do well as dancers or some sort of aesthetic career that involves "precision".

Libra: Serial Flirt. With Aphrodite here, it's like getting a double shot of Venusian energy. Pleasant, charming... naturally beauties not unlike Taurean Aphrodite's. Don't mind casual sex or casual flings but prefer relationships. Very focused on aesthetics and, like Virgo Aphrodites could go far in their fashion world or make-up pursuits. Can be very superficial.

Scorpio: Alluring vibe. They WILL fuck a lot. It's in their nature. Will be loyal if they are in a committed partnership though. Can give off scary vibes or RBF but they feel things deeply. Their aesthetic is dark colors, black as elegance, an intimidating style that appears edgy. Artistically may enjoy all things Tim Burton.

Sagittarius: Vagabond vibes. Eternal traveler. Eternal nomad. Epitome of promiscuity here. However, quite laid back. Their aesthetic probably has something to do with maps or cartography. Bohemian energy with pictures or fabrics from the far east or even Africa. Most likely has a buddha head somewhere in their home. Speak to them in an accent or different language to turn them on.

Capricorn: Independent vibes. These aphrodite placements are not keen on sharing their lives too much with others. Very business-like. Sexually though, they are insatiable. Machines. They like things to but black tie or button up. This does not mean they aren't laid back, they just like things to be all work with very little play until said work is done. Name brands and expensive suits/dresses? They're all about that. It's a status symbol thing. What Caps are famous for.

Aquarius: Avant-garde vibes. This placement will cut their hand off before they lose their freedom. More vagabond-esque than Sag tbh. Will love a style that shocks you or is out of the ordinary. Not traditional in any sense. Their sex will be kinky or they'll prefer it to have some sort of spice. Missionary? Nope. Expect a toy or ten. Pansexuals. Free love. Don't try to get them to commit unless they're ready.

Pisces: Subtle vibes. Subtle style. Dreamy style. Sexually they need to be emotionally connected. May find themselves falling in love often with the idea of someone than the reality of them. Lovers of the grunge and druggy era. 90's vibes are their aesthetic with a touch of the ethereal. Messy art studios, messy hair, even messier love lives. Might attract co-dependent types. Day-dreamy.