#I’m not a tailor and am not going to be one by december when I’m going to a con

[anicehomicidaltree]

Not me making actual plans to make a Bitsy cosplay

Like a legit layout oh god

[daydreamingyuta]

Mornings | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, a collection of mornings with Jaehyun over the years as you spend your lives together. word count: 1,127

Saturday August 10, 2019 [7:18 am]

You woke up, having hardly gotten any sleep, but energized as ever. Today you were meeting up with your boyfriend, Jaehyun. You two had just made everything official and your heart was so happy.

You go into the bathroom to do your skincare, and when you walk back into your room, you notice a good morning text from him.

Jaehyun: "Good morning baby! Can't wait to see you today <3"

A single text shouldn't make you this filled with joy, but it's from Jaehyun, so of course it does.

Y/n: "I can't wait either! Do you think we could also get some ice cream afterwards?"

Jaehyun: "We'll do anything you want angel"

You flop back onto your unmade bed, your thoughts filled with how lucky you feel to be Jaehyun's girl. You start to get giggly because you know that, by the end of the date he's going to cup your face into his hands and tell you how pretty he thinks you are, like he always does.

⸻

Sunday November 10th, 2019 [1:17 am]

You were supposed to be at home, already asleep in bed by now, but you and Jaehyun didn't want to leave each other. Each of you making excuses to prolong your date. Now it's one in the morning and you're on a walk, the street lit up by the moonlight. Each step you take, now unconsciously synced with his. Jaehyun hasn't let go of your hand once, and you wish that he never would. While you were enjoying your stroll, his mind was racing, thinking of how to tell you. He knew in his heart that you felt the same way about him, so he decided it would be best to just tell you outright. "Y/n?" He says, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You both stop and turn to face each other, knowing from the tone in his voice that he needs to tell you something important. "I love you." Words cannot describe how your heart feels in this moment. The way he's looking at you, like you're the most precious person in the world to him, was making you melt. "You love me?" You say with a teasing smile, tilting your head slightly. "So much y/n. I can hardly take it." He says, breathlessly. You stand up on your tippy toes and give him the biggest kiss you've ever given him. "I love you too, Jaehyun."

⸻

Sunday December 15th, 2019 [9:12 am]

The slight movement of Jaehyun cuddling more into you was the reason you had woken up. You move to get into a more comfortable position, causing Jaehyun to wrap his arm tighter around you.  “I’m sorry baby, did I wake you up?” Jaehyun says with his morning voice that you couldn’t get enough of.  “Hm, it’s okay. I love cuddling with you in the mornings.” Jaehyun nuzzles his head into your neck, “Me too, baby.” You fall back asleep, thinking about how excited you were that it’s almost your six month anniversary together. You can’t believe that you’ve been together for that long, the time feeling like it was going by so fast. 

⸻

Friday April 16, 2021 [7:32 am]

You knew something was up. You weren't sure what, but Jaehyun and all your friends and family had been acting strange for the past month. Like they all knew something you didn't.

You had just gotten a promotion at work, so maybe they all came together to plan a surprise party for you. But that's not really something you would enjoy and they all know that, so you really had no clue what it could be.

Today, Jaehyun was taking you out on a fancy dinner date, so whatever was going on definitely wasn't happening today.

"Good morning, angel." Jaehyun says, once he sees that you're awake. He's carrying a suit that he must have just picked up from the dry cleaners.

"Did you buy a brand new suit for our dinner?" You ask, confused.

"Yeah." He shrugs, as if getting a new suit was no big deal. As if he didn't have to spend days finding the right one for the special occasion. As if he didn't get the suit tailored to fit him exactly the way he knows you like.

You had more questions, but Jaehyun distracted you from them all by climbing into bed with you and giving you a million little kisses. You were in heaven whenever he did this.

Little did you know, that in only a couple of hours he was going to be down on one knee, in the park that you two visited during your first date, asking you to make him the happiest man on earth.

⸻

Monday May 16, 2022 [10:35 am]

You woke up with the waves coming from right outside your hotel window. You feel around the bed and notice that Jaehyun must have already gotten up. You hear a sound in the bathroom and know that he just got finished with his morning shower.  He comes out of the bathroom with a white robe on, his hair wet and messy, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as handsome in your life.  “Can you believe we got married two days ago, Jae?” You ask, unapologetically staring him down.  “No, I can't." He says, jumping back under the covers with you. "Did my beautiful wife have a good night's sleep?” You rest your chin on his now bear chest. “Yes, I did.” He strokes your hair as he looks down at you. “Should we sleep in on the first day of our honeymoon?” You nod your head yes, adamantly. You come up to press a kiss onto his lips and he cups your face into his hands and kisses you back. He pulls away, but just for a moment to ask you a question. “Do you know how beautiful you are y/n?”

⸻

Monday May 8th, 2028 [7:23 am]

“Mommy!” You hear as your oldest hops onto your bed, waking you up. “Mommy, happy mothers day!” She presses kisses all over you, making sure that you're fully awake. “Thank you sweetheart.” You say, sitting up so you can give her a hug and another kiss. She giggles in your arms and gets close to your ear like she has a secret to tell you.

"We made you something." She whispers.

Soon after, Jaehyun walks through the door, balancing your youngest in one arm and a stack of pancakes in the other.

“Happy mothers day, angel.” Jaehyun tells you as he sits the pancakes down on the bed and leans over to give you a sweet kiss.

[pardi-real]

Tarot of Destiny / Chapter 3 - Unfulfilled Wish

Prev | All | Next

[Devil's Palace, Your Room]

December 30. Today is the day we finally leave for Maginaria. As I readied myself in my room, Muu and Flure entered, wearing their new outfits.

Knock, knock…

> "Please come in"

Muu: "Excuse us, my lord!"

Flure: "My lord. Your change of clothes is ready."

> "Both of you look lovely in those outfits"

Flure: "Fufu… Thank you very much ♪ I think I tailored it well by referencing the tarot cards as the clue! And here is the lord's outfit. Let me help you change."

> "Okay"

~ A few moments later ~

Muu: "Woah~! You look absolutely stunning, my lord!"

Flure: "I would expect nothing less of you, my lord. You look even better than I imagined!"

> "Thank you"

Muu: "Fufu. Both the lord and Flure are amazing!  It still looks great despite being themed after that ominous 'Death'…"

Flure: "Hold on, Muu. Calling it 'ominous' is rude, isn't it?  It’s just fortune-telling... Don't take it seriously.

Muu: "Uh… Y-you're right... I'm sorry, my lord."

> "Don't worry, I don't mind"

Muu: "I see... I'm glad to hear that!"

Flure and Muu seemed relieved at my words. The truth is, I felt uneasy when I saw that the card representing me is Death in the upright position. Something ominous might happen to me from now on. I knew that Elvira's fortune-telling had been right in the past, leaving me worried...

Flure: "My lord.... Is something wrong?"

> "No, it's nothing"

Flure: "I see. Okay then, it's time for us to leave. Let me show you to your carriage."

> "Thank you, Flure"

Right after I drew the Death card, all the butlers supported me frantically, telling me not to worry.  For the sake of the butlers who care for me and don't want me to be anxious… I won't let my uneasiness show in my face. With such determination, I left the room…

[Devil's Palace, Foyer]

Berrien: "We have been waiting for you, my lord. Oh...what a wonderful outfit ♪ It suits you perfectly."

Haures: "Yes, indeed. It is a fantastic start to the trip seeing you in such a beautiful outfit. This trip is going to be a very good one."

> "Th-thank you…"

Berrien: "Fufu… The other butlers are already heading there, but if they see the lord now... I’m sure they’ll be just as pleased as we are."

Haures: "Well, shall we, my lord? First, we’ll meet Lady Elvira in the forest near Espoir. After meeting up with her there, we’ll head for Maginaria. Flure and I will be the coachmen...  My lord and Muu, please go to the seats with Mr. Berrien."

> "Okay"

As the carriage rocked, we eventually reached the forest near Espoir, taking over Ms. Elvira's protection from the Grovaner family soldiers.

The four of us–me, Muu, Berrien, and Elvira–rode in the same carriage.

Elvira: "............"

Berrien: "............"

Muu: "............"

> "............"

Muu: (M-my lord.... It feels a bit awkward...) (When Lady Elvira boarded the carriage and we talked to her... ) (She only said a few words, saying, 'It's been a while,' and 'I'll be counting on you.' ...) (I had various things I wanted to ask her, though.)

Elvira: "Hmm… I see.  'I have a question I want to ask, but I can't bring it up'.... Is that what you mean? Mr. Talking cat."

Muu: "What!? H-how did you know!? Could it be...? You can read my mind through fortune-telling…?"

Elvira: "No. I heard you whispering."

Muu: "Ah... I-I see."

Elvira: "Hmm... The thing you guys want to know desperately... No other than what I sent to the Lord of the Devil Butler... ‘Death in the upright position,’ isn’t it?

Muu: "Th-that's right! Actually, I've been curious about it... That card… What in the world does that card mean?"

Elvira: "Well… If you ask me, I don't know."

Muu: "Eeh!? But didn't you do the fortune-telling...?"

Elvira: "Yes, but... I am not the one who determines the interpretation... All I can say is... the Death card implies something. Considering the meaning of the card... you should be very cautious. If you’re not careful, you could lose your life."

> "M-my... life?"

Elvira: "Yes. Even now, at this very moment, you might be in danger... Regardless… Be cautious."

> "Uh... uhm…"

Muu: "N-no way… Don't say things that make me uneasy! Please explain it clearly...! Will the lord be fine...?"

Elvira: "I don't know about that. All I can do is to tell you the result of the fortune-telling, one of the meanings of Death in the upright position is ‘end of things’.... That's what my fortune-telling says."

Muu: "Ugh... I couldn't even get a word of comfort... Um.... What do you think, Mr. Berrien? If the lord is really in danger, maybe we should forget about the request and go somewhere safe…"

Berrien: "Muu…"

Elvira: "Ah. Just to be clear... there is no point in hiding somewhere. You cannot escape the destiny indicated by the tarot.

Your lord is someone who was born carrying the ‘Death’ card… No, that isn’t quite right. “While in this world," is more appropriate, I guess.

Anyway… No matter what measures you take, you cannot escape from the ‘Death’ card. The only thing left to do is to accept the fate of the card.... I guess that's it."

Muu: "Ugh… I've even been driven into a corner…"

Berrien: "Muu. Lady Elvira didn't mean to say that with malicious intent. And her words.... There is some truth in them. Wherever you run… There is no safe place in this angel-infested world.

And as she said… this card is not temporary. In other words, it will always be with the lord, as long as they are in this world... In that case, whether we are on a trip or in the mansion doesn’t matter…

What we can do… is being there for the lord to protect them. I… I accept it as such."

Muu: "I-I see… so you can see it that way… But still... I can’t help but worry…”

Elvira: "Well... There may be no need to be in such a hurry, though. The fate of ‘end of things’ is that you never know when it will come.  In the first place, it’s in humans’ nature... we are all doomed to death, sooner or later.  The fate indicated by the card will come.... but it might be far in the future."

Muu: "R-right! It may not be now! I’m sure the lord will live a long life too!"

Elvira: "However... The Lord of the Devil Butler is fighting against angels. They're closer to danger than an average human."

Muu: "............ Ugh... Please don't play with my feelings like a toy…"

Elvira: "Oh my… I'm sorry. I'm just answering honestly, though."

Personally, I'm sure Berrien and Ms. Elvira are right.... I felt she was just saying what she thinks without any malice. That's why her fortune-telling results were credible… and made me worry even more.

Berrien: "My Lord… please don’t worry. We will always be by your side to protect you. Whether it is fate or angels.... Nothing will change that fact."

> "Berrien…"

Muu: "Th-that's right... It’s definitely just as Mr. Berrien said. But... if we could save the lord from this ominous fate somehow... Is there anything we can do?"

Elvira: "Oh my… You say the strangest things, Mr. Talking cat.  If you seek an answer for it... You should have it already, haven't you? No... I think it would be more appropriate to say that you have experienced it firsthand."

> "Experienced it...?"

Berrien: "Hmm… Lady Elvira. If you don't mind me asking, what is that 'answer'? Could you please tell us?"

Elvira: "............ No... I can’t answer here. Rather than from other people… Sometimes it is crucial to be aware of things on your own."

Muu: "W-wait! Please don’t tease me, just tell me! If you do... you can touch my ‘paw pads’ until we get to Maginaria!”

Elvira: "......... ……………….."

> (Is she… considering it?)

Elvira: "No... I probably shouldn't give you the answer. Instead... I’ll give you a guidepost."

Muu: "A guidepost?"

Elvira: "Yes. The tarot cards I gave you. You have to take a good look at yourself through those cards."

Berrien: "Take a good look at ourselves……"

Elvira: "And the thoughts that come out of that... Tell it to the lord.  ……That's all."

> "That's all…"

Having said that, Ms. Elvira straightened up… then she just stared at Muu's paws.

Elvira: ".......hints have been sent out. Paw pads… May I touch it for a moment?"

Muu: "C-can't be helped.... Just for a moment, okay?"

Berrien: "Hmm… I'll tell the lord the thoughts that came to me when I looked at the tarot cards... And that will save them from their ominous fate...? What in the world does that mean…"

> "Who knows…"

I wanted to hear the answer from Ms. Elvira, but… She was staring out the window while touching Muu's paws, signaling no desire to continue the conversation.

Elvira: "Oh…"

> "Huh?"

Elvira: "So many birds in the sky... This is an ominous omen…"

Muu: "You're right... It's ominous...  Uh… H-how long are you going to keep touching my paw pads!"

Elvira: "Oh my... Is it over already? For it to end on the way… ……Stingy……."

Muu: "Well, likewise!"

note: when Berrien was inquiring for the answer, he used the word for 'wish', hence the chapter's title.

Prev | All | Next

[pageandpanel]

Or, A Retrospective Quest to Find my Favorite Book

(originally posted @ Page and Panel on wordpress)

For anyone who considers themselves a “reader,” there is a single question that we all dread being asked but secretly love answering. What is your favorite book? Do you have a few books on hand to rattle off at a moments notice or do you shrug and say that you don’t have one? Do you tailor your answer to the person asking the question or you have a single, absolute, definitive favorite that you sing the praises of any time you’re given the chance? I, like most people I’m sure, have given different variations of these answers over the years along with dozens of others. Realistically, if you ask me this question my answer will change given the time of day, my mood, and the direction of the winds. And that’s totally fine. But I’m trying to generate content here so I want to interrogate this question a little. Or a lot.

Baby’s First Bookstagram Post ^

I started actively tracking my reading in 2017 on Instagram. Scroll all the way down on my page if you want to see some truly uninspired photography, but also if you want to be shocked at how consistently I posted when I was using that as my primary tracking method. I have a nearly infallible log of everything I’ve read in the last five years. According to Goodreads, I’ve read a total of 688 books between January 1st, 2017 and December 4, 2021. That’s absolutely more books read in the last five years than in the entire rest of my previous 25 years of life. That’s a lot of content to condense into such a small span of time and I already know my brain hasn’t retained all of it.

Running the numbers like this has left me with two questions I want to explore:

How many of these books do I actually remember?

Which of these books is actually my favorite?

And that’s what this series of blog posts is going to explore. I am going to be re-examining books I’ve read and logged, maybe dipping in to re-read or skim a few here and there to see if my opinion has changed. I want to see how actively I have been reading over the years, or if I’ve truly gotten sucked into the social media gamification of reading where I’m just burning through books to hit a goal. And, because I love a list, I’m going to be ranking the books I revisit in a quest to figure out which is my definitive favorite. Or if such a thing even exists.

Where was I in January of 2017? Well, let’s check the caption on my very first official “bookstagram” post:

“2016 was a trash fire in the middle of a shit storm for me. So one of my goals this year is to read more and to read every day. Earlier today, I decided I might as well chronicle this effort on Instagram. So here is the pile of stuff I read yesterday.” (JANUARY 2, 2017)

Yeah so that about sums it up. I was struggling to recover from the gut punch that was the 2020 election (still recovering), dragging myself through my last two semesters of college (remember not having student loan payments?) , and working full time at my local comic store (still the best job I’ve ever had). I think it hit me that over the previous few years I had only really been reading books for class–English Major life–and comics because that was my life at the time. And I really wanted to expand my reading life. Thus, I started logging my books and trying to read a little every day. The first few books I finished that year were actually comics so bare with me.

Book One: Midnighter and Apollo

written by Steve Orlando with art by Fernando Blanco.

Let me start off by explaining that the way I’ve tracked my comics over the years is by bundling single issues (aka the 20 page floppy magazine style books that come out every week) as they are released in trade paperbacks (aka graphic novels that collect 5-7 single issues in a single bound book). i feel like doing it this way gives me a more realistic number at the end of the year, given I read hundreds of 20-ish page comics a year.

Midnighter and Apollo is Steve Orlando’s follow up miniseries to his run on Midnighter (Vol 2 2015-2016). I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a big DC comics reader. I have a few characters that I like to dip in and out of whenever they show up in books, but I grew up on Marvel and never really made the jump to being a fully dedicated DC fan. However, this was an era of DC comics that I actually really loved and Midnighter is one of those characters that will always get me to pick up a book. The incredibly reductive elevator pitch for Midnighter as a character is that he’s Gay Murder Batman. And if you’re not on board with that, then you’re on the wrong blog, my friend.

I absolutely loved Orlando’s run on Midnighter and this miniseries was just as thrilling. The basic plot, without giving too much away and without digging into all of the minutiae of a character written inconsistently for the last 11 years, is a To Hell and Back For Love kinda story. Apollo is abducted and Midnighter has to fight his way through literal Hell (fire and brimstone actual Hell, not metaphorical hell) to get him back.

The book reunited the couple who had been married in 2002 but separated and largely absent from comics for the last few years. Coming off a run of comics that I loved, I think I was a little annoyed by the reunion and then unceremonious shelving of these characters after this series. Particularly because 2015 had been kind of a good year for gay comics. Midnighter was having a good active run, consistently showing up in Grayson (Nightwing’s comic when he was a spy for a minute) as well as having his own title. Over at Marvel, Iceman would come out as gay in November of the same year. Not quite as groundbreaking as back to back bisexual Robin and Superman 2.0 announcements, but we were still begging for crumbs in mainstream comics back then. It was fun to pick up a comic every month and watch a gay man have to leave a Tinder date to go murder a bad guy. But Midnighter and Apollo reset the character to a status quo with most queer characters of the time.

Instead of letting a queer character be single, date around, and live their lives like many straight characters are allowed to do, gay characters in superhero comics tend to be coupled up and desexualized to the point that their can easily be overlooked by people who don’t want to see it. Northstar of Alpha Flight and X-Men was married to his partner, a human dude named Kyle, in Astonishing X-Men #51 (2012) in the first gay marriage in superhero comics. Post-wedding, the two rarely appeared in comics until very recently. Additionally, everyone’s favorite gay couple at Marvel–Wiccan and Hulkling–have been together since their very first appearance in Young Avengers Vol 1 in 2005. After their initial appearance in that series, they wouldn’t be seen again with any regularity until Young Avengers Vol 2 in 2013. Consistently, gay men at the time were coupled up and pushed out of major story lines to cater to an assumed straight male comics readership.

Obviously I’m never going to be mad about happy gay couples living their happy gay lives, but this desexualization of queer men to make them more palatable felt like a step back for the direction Midnighter had been going in his own series. I also think that it’s important to note that Steve Orlando is a queer man who has written almost exclusively queer comics. I also don’t know how much publisher influence there was over the decision to put the couple back together verses how much Orlando actually wanted this couple to be together. Regardless of my skepticism and whatever decisions were made by who, I did end up loving this six issue run of comics. I was already pretty committed to reading everything Orlando wrote, but this cemented it for me. This isn’t the last of his comics that will pop up throughout this project. I am also always on the look out for new Midnighter content. In 2021 he found his way back to the spotlight in at least two comics: DC Pride #1 and Midnighter Annual #1.

When I read this originally, I gave it 4 stars on Goodreads and I think that’s still a pretty solid rating. I know it’s going to rank somewhere in the middle of my extremely top heavy list. Overall, I highly recommend this series to anyone interested in getting into queer DC comics, but I would also advise starting with with the original series, Midnighter (2015) as well as Grayson (2015) by Tom King, Tim Seeley, and Mikel Janín. I definitely want to carve out some time to revisit both of these series in the very near future to see how they hold up and where they will rank on the list.

BOOK TWO: SHADE THE CHANGING GIRL

written by Cecil Castellucci with art by Marley Zarcone

Unlike Midnighter and Apollo, this is an ongoing series rather than just a mini-series. As I said earlier, for the purpose of logging comics, I bundle them in as they’re collected in trades. So, Midnighter and Apollo is issues #1-6 for the complete story. Most comics on this list are going to be broken up into similarly sized chunks, but will have multiple volumes. So, Shade the Changing Girl has a Volume 1 (collecting issues 1-6) and a Volume 2 (issues 7-13). For the purposes of this project though, I’m counting all 13 issues as a single story, and will treat most runs of comics the same way. Every new #1 is a new story, etc etc. Hopefully that’s enough explaining my own process for this post.

Cecil Castellucci draws just enough from the original series to capture the utter madness of Milligan and Bachalo’s Shade, but create such a fascinating character in Loma that you don’t actually need to read the original series to get deeply invested in this new one (which is probably for the best because I doubt Shade the Changing Man holds up). And Marley Zarcone’s art is beautiful and creates the perfect atmosphere to tell this weird ass story. I can’t tell you how many times I sat down with these issues and ended up just staring at the art. And in Volume 2, there’s a breathtakingly beautiful issue drawn by Margurite Sauvage, one of my all time favorite artists.

I honestly don’t think Loma has popped up in any comics since the sequel to this series, Shade the Changing Woman (we’ll get to it), which is a shame because I would buy literally anything else with her on the cover. I also really miss this era of comics. Vertigo has made every attempts at a comeback since the glory days in the 90s. Young Animals, I think, is the closest they ever got. After a first phase of comics (they’ll all be on the list at some point) that all lasted about 12 issues, a cross over event, and then a second phase of 5-6 issue mini series, the entire Young Animal imprint was scrapped and DC attempted to revitalize the Vertigo brand. None of those books ever took off (and none of them were very good) and DC has since scrapped the entire like altogether in favor of their “Black Label” imprint. In my opinion, Young Animal is the closest DC ever got to the classic Vertigo books I was obsessed with in high school. But money talks and sales for his books never really took off. I think we sold 5 or 6 issues of Shade ever week, despite my best effort to hand sell it. So pour one out for Gerard Way and his weird comics.

Unsurprising, I gave both installments of this series 5 stars and I stand by that. I can’t recommend this highly enough and it’s definitely getting ranked above Midnighter and Apollo. Seriously, I’m sure you can find the back issues of this so cheap in any comic store dollar bin or on Comixology for a discount. Even if you’re not a big comic reader, this one and it’s sequel are perfectly self-contained stories and absolutely worth checking out.

BOOK TWO: ARISTOTLE AND DANTE DISCOVER THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE

by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Finally! An actual novel. I promise the comics thin themselves out in 2018 when I stop working at the comic store.

What is there to be said about Aristotle and Dante that hasn’t already been covered by anyone who has ever read a book? Seriously, you’ve all read this right? I don’t need to talk you into it. Somehow I had made it to 25 without reading this absolute classic of a Queer YA novel. I’ve actually been meaning to reread this one all year and haven’t quite gotten around to it. Maybe it will be the next book I pick up and we can end this year on a high note.

Aristotle and Dante is the story of two very different boys from two very different backgrounds. And against the odds, they form an incredible bond, becoming close friends and eventually something more. One of my favorite things about this book, and one of the things I think about constantly when I read other queer stories, is the relationship between Aristotle and his parents. Aristotle is going through a turbulent time of self-discovery, trying to figure out the kind of person he’s going to be. And there is never a point in the story in which his parents, specifically his father, abandon him in that journey. It’s exhausting to see queer teens in stories abandoned, neglected, or abused by their families. Seeing that love on the page remain strong and unquestioning, especially as they come to a collective realization about the person Aristotle is growing up to be, is deeply affirming and refreshing.

I didn’t grow up with ready access to a lot of queer media, especially media aimed at younger audiences. I learned about gay things like every other middle school kid in the early 2000s: on Degrassi: The Next Generation and roleplaying X-Men characters on Xanga. And as an adult, I don’t read a ton of YA but I will almost always pick up anything queer. I love that these books are available to kids as they learn about themselves. And more than anything I love the care with which Sáenz handles these characters and their lives. You can feel his affection for Ari and Dante in every word. This is a book that is swelling with emotion invites readers to really feel their own vulnerability along with these characters.

I have this as a 5 star read. Fantastic call on my part. Of the books entering the list today, this is the one that I feel the most emotional attachment towards so I’m slipping it in at the number one spot. I wish I had more to say about this book except that I absolutely adore it and I can’t wait to read the sequel (waiting for the paperback release so my books match is so stressful). If this has been sitting on your TBR for a while bump it up to the top. For now, I’ll leave you with a quote I took a picture of for instagram that I do think about pretty regularly. It feels like a fresh gut punch every time I read it.

WRAPPING IT UP

Okay so the fun part of all of this is coming out with a ranked list of books I’ve read. Okay maybe that’s just fun for me. I’m going to keep a running google doc list and insert the books I talk about wherever I think they should go on the list. This one is going to be pretty easy, since the only books entering the list are the three I talked about in this post.

There’s not a ton to wrap up on the first installment in this project. Nothing super controversial here. Just one popular YA book that everyone has read and two comic series no one has read. I’m excited to see how this pans out and where I land on books I haven’t thought about in a while. Next time I have two more comic series and one of my all time favorite novels to add to the list. The next few posts are going to be pretty comics heavy, so hopefully no one is totally put off by that content. I promise, they fade out by the end of the year.

[go-bac]

How do I stay organized?

Organization, especially for myself, isn’t my strong suit. It never has been, and it probably never will be. My mind is not set up to be organized, nor can I stick to one organization method that works long term. I inevitably forget to utilize whatever new method I am trying, it becomes more of a chore than a help, and/or that method itself gets messy. After researching how ADHD works, I’ve come to realize that accepting these things about myself is much healthier, and that I can use methods that tailor to my specific brain. For example, I need to visually see every day or newer things in some capacity to remember they exist due to short term memory struggles. Therefore, my desktop on my computer is a life saver for me.

While it is chaotic, mixing personal and school related things in one place, I can browse it quickly and am more likely to remember the things that are there. I have a few sub folders that I put things into that I either won’t need for a long time or that have become enmeshed into my more reliable long-term memory. When my desktop fills up, I also know it's time to clean up and file away things to make space for my new files, creations, projects, etc. (I’m sorry to anyone this gives anxiety to, as some of my friends have told me haha).

When it comes to physical things, it wouldn’t make sense to spread everything out like this or else my apartment would be messy all the time, and I wouldn’t be able to see everything anyway. Therefore, I rely on separating subjects, projects, or types of visual information by different notebooks, and then using them in chronological order from front to back, dating each important part or new day. As I go back and flip through, my memory of the order I did or learned things in gets jogged, and then I can normally find things pretty quickly. This is my notebook from last semester, filled with notes from class and sketches and such from September to December.

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[spidermandni]

ONCE UPON A DECEMBER.

pairing iwaizumi x reader

timestamp 20:21

notes hi!! anastasia is such a good movie like i'm obsessed with it and i'm obsessed with this song and iwaizumi 😵‍💫 i wrote this around his birthday and originally planned to drop this on the 1st but i got distracted so here <333 merry christmas eve eve ☺️

the moon light shines through the high placed windows of your family’s castle. light snow is seen falling outside. the masquerade ball being held isn’t going well, seeing as you’re bored and watching people dance in the center of the ballroom from the sidelines.

you sigh and cross your arms, clutching softly at your elbows. a hum comes from your right and you jump when you meet eyes with a boy wearing a dark green mask that matches with the shade of his eyes, eyes that cause a feeling of familiarity to rise in your heart.

“not having that much fun, are you, princess?” your eyes widen.

“you could tell it was me?”

“any person smart enough would be able to tell it was you by your beauty.” his lips grow into a soft smile and you can tell it’s sincere by the look in his eyes. your mouth drops into a small “o” as you stare at the boy. he lifts his hand from his side towards you, “may i have this dance, princess?” you blink a few times before dropping your hand into his while nodding.

he swiftly takes you onto the dance floor and rests your left hand onto his shoulder as he intertwines his right with yours. he places his left hand on your waist, his eyes meet yours and he gives you a shy grin. you feel your breath hitch and your shoulders tense.

a faint chuckles falls from between his lips as he speaks, “you can relax around me, i promise you are safe to, name.” a feeling of relaxation takes over you as the two of you begin to sway across the ballroom floor, feeling as if everyone around you has disappeared and it’s only the two of you left.

minutes pass with the two of you dancing together and you had only felt this type of warmth from one person.

“you- you feel like someone i know, have we ever met before-”

“hajime, we need to leave. now.” the two of you come to a stop and stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments. iwaizumi. iwaizumi hajime, like your childhood best friend iwaizumi? the baker and your tailor’s son, who had gone missing at the age of fifteen, three years ago, and who rumors had been spread about his becoming an outlaw, a bandit iwaizumi? the boy that you had known since you were two and had fallen in love with at twelve years old. that iwaizumi.

you gasp and lift your hands to grasp onto his arms, tears building in your eyes. he places both hands onto your waist as he gives you a sad smile.

“i swore i would explain everything to you but it seems i have no time. i never wanted to leave you, name, i promise. if there was any other path in life i would’ve been allowed to take, i would’ve jumped to take it instead of being forced to leave your side.” a sob falls from your lips.

“why, why did you have to? you can’t, not again, hajime. i love you so, so much.” he sighs and drops his forehead to lean on yours.

“i never would’ve wished to, but i had no choice, my love. i love you, but i’m afraid i have to leave before i am caught.” those same green eyes gaze into your tearful ones.

“take me with you.”

“i can’t. you know i can’t, name.”

“i don’t wish to live without you, iwaizumi. please, there’s nothing left for me in this kingdom. you are the only person i need to survive, i can’t without you.”

“i would love for the two of you to continue this debate, but we don’t have much time left.” you turn your head to see a man with dark locks and stern eyes, before turning back to look into iwaizumi’s eyes, begging.

he sighs and looks to the ballroom floor before looking back into your eyes and nodding. a bright smile takes place on your lips as you take his hand into yours. iwaizumi turns to the man,

“issei, lead the way.”

“it would be my pleasure, lovebirds.”

you’re finally getting the happy ending you wished for when you were younger.

[lookwhatilost]

i feel like the dri & booze situation is one that’s relatively unusual and is going to require a more creative solution that hasn’t been fielded with her. so, not 12 step, which complicates things it’s really hard to get streamlined information on clinical treatment that doesn’t use this model, in part because 12 step is so hegemonic. she needs something more customized than that. what i want to do when she’s calmed down a bit is have a couple options that she wouldn’t have had presented to her *checks notes* 9 year tenure in and out of 12 step programs. i don’t know why anyone is shocked that this hasn’t been helpful.

i’ve known dri for years at this point and am way more familiar with how this works than i ever wanted to be. so i’m of two minds: my less than charitable opinion, which is my broad one, and the one that’s more tailored to this and more relevant.

the mean one is more fun to type: go to an article where a conservative writer is railing against grc, toss out the bit about kiddie tiddies and just grab the ones that are pretending to be objective, that allude to rates of regret that aren’t being reported, lack of supporting evidence, that this is being pushed as the only answer when therapy is more appropriate, that it’s ideologically driven, that it’s profiting off a vulnerable group of repeat customers. perennial classics, i’ve sure we’ve all seen them. now go in and play some mad libs, replace “woke gender experimental surgeries” or whatever dogwhistle the author shit out after they drank their coffee this morning with “12 step”. and congratulations, they’re correct statements now.

i’m oversimplifying a bit here, but there are some serious issues with the all of the data, that would be present in any group that only keeps estimates of its membership – how very convenient for them. so you get wildly variant estimates about the program’s success, with figures ranging from 5% to 91%. that should make any reasonable person suspicious of them. and then orgs like AA will self-publish 75% percent success rate – broken down that’s 50% for don’t relapse after attending, and another 25% who slip then recover – but say things in weasel words “for those who seriously work the program”, which the fine print will tell you is 20-40% of attendees at the meeting. AA groups are also autonomous. the norms in one church basement aren’t going to be the same ones down the road, so what are the criteria they’re holding these people to? there’s a lot of weird shit like this, like the very fun fact that AA is 45 years older than the first substance use disorder diagnosis. and all 12 step programs are the AA formula smacked out something else. it’s a rabbit hole.

what’s relevant here is that 12 step is designed for one specific expression of alcoholism, and adrienne isn’t a patient like that.

like, someone who just got divorced, kids taken from them and their house foreclosed on, someone who’s living in their car, the kind of people who don’t have anywhere else to turn to. this program is made for. it’s the people who can’t stop no matter what and who can’t moderate no matter what, who need complete abstinence. people’ve lost real things because of this.

dri has gotten... um. she’s gotten seriously physically injured multiple times, and she’s had some very alarming experiences with other symptoms after a binge, and i know she knows it’s not a good sign that she’s getting labs all the time. but in terms of things she won’t be able to realistically bounce back from? well, the second DUI did bleed her savings, but she also scraped together the funds for a very well connected lawyer who talked it down to a first offense. so. inpatient recovery stint in december argued as time served. 6 months of probation. complete IOP. 4 months total license suspension, 12 months ignition interlock when the restricted license comes back. $5k fine. judge saying “i just hope i never see you in here again”. a lot of situations like that, where they were nowhere near as bad as they could have realistically been. and the point is more common ground with the group. she isn’t going to engage with this. when she was still in IOP, sometimes she’d come home and comment “damn, some of these people actually ruined their lives”

so, people who the program is designed for don’t really have the privilege of nitpicking it because this is pretty much it for them, and what else are they realistically are going to do? but dri is going to immediately going to look at this and think “why do i have to go on a tour of shame if this is something out of my hands?” and tear into it further like “it doesn’t matter if you change ‘god’ to ‘higher power’ if you’re still talking about an external locus of control. just because it’s woke god now doesn’t mean this isn’t spiritual”. whenever there’s a “bitch ex-wife guy” (apparently every meeting has one) she’s not going to find this relatable because this dude is 2.5 decades older than her and custody battles are something she knows nothing about, and finds the chatter depressing at best, or at worst, sort of looks at some of the more extreme cases and quietly exonerates herself. even when people are in her age group, she doesn’t seem to like them very much. her AA sponsor in 2020 told her that “this year is bad because people were chanting ‘i can’t breathe’ in the streets, which is a black magic spell”. she stopped going after that. for every encounter she had with someone there she thought was interesting, there were 10 more events she took issue with. she just doesn’t like the premise. and i’m still going back and forth on whether the health stuff is abstract to her, or she doesn’t want to think about it, or if she’s just sort of giving up on it. but she’s still shut in our room and she’s been crying on and off for most of the day, so i know she feels awful about herself.

so, i’ve just been writing this out to sort of get my ideas down and spitball what isn’t working, just based on what she’s told me about. and i want to approach her with some language i know she’s probably going to be more responsive to, and i think what i’m sticking with is “you’ve caught a lot of breaks with this, but you only need to get really unlucky with it one time”.

because that’s sort of what my concern is. this is usually the cycle with her: she relapses, and something scares her out of drinking for a while. then some time goes on, and eventually the initial shock wears off. this can be anywhere between 2 weeks to around 6 months depending on how scared she is. then she starts getting stressed, she’ll want to drink and numb it. i can reliably talk her out of it if she expresses this to me, but i also can’t babysit her all the time. this will be persistent, sometimes it goes nowhere. sometimes she’ll pop in somewhere after her shift, and... she’s chugged 8 drinks in the past hour and she can barely form a sentence and is incredibly disoriented, which means she’s liable to fall over and hurt herself, and she’ll just walk around with a gash on her face that’s gushing blood and she doesn’t seem to notice it happened. or she’s put herself in a sketchy situation with people she 100% should not trust because they’re buying her more alcohol and she’s totally lost the thread of what’s going on. already, she’s fallen through a glass door and shattered it, she’s chipped a significant portion off two of her teeth, she faceplanted directly on her glasses and broke them and she still has a scar on her nose where the frame dug into her face, she’s had her drinks drugged, twice, and there’s this story she doesn’t take seriously at all where she describes what is almost certainly an attempted sexual assault, and she’s not reading it that way because she was too zonked out to realize that, no, that stranger carrying you into your apartment when you’re inebriated and getting weird with you is trying to take advantage of you. babe, this is really bad.

her falling into traffic, or tripping into the canal and drowning, or just passing out when it’s cold out and freezing, or anything like that is very low probability, but she only needs to get unlucky once. what’s more likely is that she gets seriously injured. she breaks her jaw, or her nose, or her arm. or she pokes one of her eyes out. or one of her drinks gets drugged again, but no one intervenes this time, and god knows what follows. like, i’m not pulling this out of my ass. she’s had close calls with all of these. and she only needs to get unlucky once.

the good news in all of this is that dri has trended upwards in the sobriety periods. she could barely go a few days without drinking in 2019 and be on a bender for a week or more. now, she might not have had 9 months of consecutive sobriety, but 21 days this year, only spanning 2-3 day intervals at a time, spread out – she’s doing better. but i get worried that she could backslide, and i think she needs something more tailored to her specifically so she can learn how to get out of that thinking cycle. because she needs to do this consistently so she can get the momentum she needs to put this behind her.

so, thinking about some things that she might find appealing or that will help her. RPT seems like a good place to start that she’d benefit from the most, so i need to find a cbt practitioner who has experience with this. i could see REBT working too. i know she probably should try to get back on antidepressants, but i know she doesn’t feel they do anything, so that’s irritating. although i could see her feeling more favorably towards ketamine, because it tends to work more immediately. insurance doesn’t cover that, but we might be able to figure something out. some clinics do payment plans that are a bit more doable for us. i’m not sure how she feels about vivitrol or acamprosate, but they’re on the table too. smart is probably a better fit for her than anything 12 step, if she hasn’t given up on groups, because it’s more based in cbt principles and would be a good compliment to whatever form of talk therapy she thinks makes the most sense. or even just little things in addition to this, like giving her a day planner where she can just keep track of what’s a sober day, what’s a day where she drank, what’s a day where she binged, and just make notes about things like cravings, stressors, etc. she tends to respond better to something tangible, and being able to have a written documentation of this can give her a better handle on her patterns. or encouraging her to get the gym membership she’s been mentioning periodically since she began living here. 

she’s going to figure it out. i know she will. i know she’s going to have a breakthrough with this someday. i bookmarked some stuff related to these and i’ll show it to her in the morning.

[fictionadventurer]

If you're still taking the Bookworm Asks, how about 98, 105, 112, and 122, please?

Most of these prompts fit books that I just finished reading or am currently reading, so we'll take this post in that direction.

98. a book set in a fictional kingdom

I'm about 2/3 of the way through Once Upon a Royal Summer by Teri Wilson. It's a Hallmark movie in book form about a girl who works as a princess at a not!Disney theme park and falls in love with the real prince of a tiny kingdom. Just reading the summary filled me with joy--I could already feel my brain cells dying! How could I resist such cheese-saturated, brain-numbing cliches?

It hasn't disappointed so far. It has provided every single cliche that could possibly be promised by the premise. (We don't yet have a Proper Royal Woman standing as a rival to the plucky commoner, but there's time yet). There's just a smidge more character development and nuance that comes from this being a book and not a movie, which kind of impresses me, until I remember that this is only impressive because I'm expecting 0% effort and the author is putting in, like, 2% effort.

The last half of the book is set in the prince's fictional kingdom of Bella-Moritz (isn't that a beautifully terrible name?), a tiny nation on the French Riviera that is known for (what else?) its yearly Flower Festival! There are palm trees and it's half an hour's drive from Nice, which is frankly more detail than most of these fictional kingdoms get, so credit where it's due, I guess. It is currently ruled by a very traditional and duty-bound queen, and her son is a widower with a six-year-old daughter and no longer believes in true love. But of course the political stability of this nation requires him to marry a proper royal consort. I wonder where he shall ever find one.

105. your favorite crime novel

This time of year, I'm always reminded of how much I love Gaudy Night, but the crime novel parts aren't really why I love it. The top spot, depending on the day, goes to The Nine Tailors or Murder Must Advertise.

I also just started reading The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey. I'm only about 20 pages in, but very much enjoying it so far. Especially since the very practical, somewhat snarky viewpoint is a nice break from the extremely emotional and sentimental books I'm currently reading.

112. a book about war

I just finished reading Yours Is the Night by Amanda Dykes, which takes place during WWI. Its poetic language can be very overwrought, but it's a beautiful book, and it's the first Dykes novel where I actually can remember the characters' names afterward. One of my top reads of the year.

122. your favorite winter read

How can I choose? There are books that are good for winter because of their wintery atmosphere, and other books that are good for winter because of their cozy vibes, and there are books that are good for winter because they're so Christmassy. I can't choose one so I'm going to list several.

Tolkien's Letters from Father Christmas is an all-but-mandatory Christmastime read, as is A Christmas Carol. The Long Winter has the most winter that has ever been put into a book. Ballet Shoes has that cozy children's movie vibe that feels like one of those family movies that you'd see on TV over Christmas vacation. Entwined has those children's movie vibes and also features two different Christmases as major parts of the plot. Nicholas and Alexandra starts out with wintertime descriptions that, when I read them in a cold December, made me appreciate winter for the first time in years. I can wholeheartedly recommend all of them.

[marvelship-oneshots]

TRAPPED TOGETHER (STUCKONY)

PART 1 OF 2

N/A AU where Steve and Bucky finally managed to move into their new apartment but it turns out that the landlord accidentally sold it to someone else as well. [2k words]

Bucky shut the door after his boyfriend finally managed to enter in their apartment. "It was about time" Bucky hissed, with a hand on his waist. Steve gently laid the boxes he was carrying on the floor, just wanting to let them go, but not knowing what was in there and essentially he didn't want to break anything. He looked at his boyfriend. "It seems to me that I was he one carrying all of those boxes" "Yeah, well, you're not the one with one arm" he said hinting at the empty sleeve of his leather jacket. Steve sarcastically rolled his eyes. "What? I carried one bag!" He said, holding the canvas bag that was hanging from his shoulder. Steve smiled and opened his arms, waiting for Bucky. Bucky put his arm around Steve's neck. Steve kissed his temple. "Home sweet home baby" "We did it, Stevey"

Bucky was putting the pillow into the pillowcase, holding one corner in his mouth, while Steve was laying on the bed trying to hold down every corner of the bed sheet when they heard the door shutting close. Bucky let go of the pillow, looking at Steve. "You heard that?" "What?" Steve asked without letting go of the sheet. "The door. Steve someone is in the house" Bucky whispered. Steve rolled his eyes and went back tucking the bed sheet under the corner of the mattress. "Steve, I'm telling you, someone broke in" "Buck, it's probably nothing" "Steeve!" Bucky whisper-screamed "Go check, pretty please" Steve got up and walked towards the door, Bucky following him as if he was a scared little children. "So much for being a soldier, huh Buck?" "Listen! You see? I have only one arm" Steve chuckled. "It seriously got to stop being the excuse for everythin-" The couple arrived in the living room and stopped. "I told you, someone broke in" whispered Bucky, hiding behind Steve. Bucky wasn't exactly tiny, or short, but Steve's shoulder were broad enough to hide him completely. "And you are...?" asked Steve, looking at the man from head to toe. He was short, very short, and rather slim. But everyone would seem tiny compared to Steve's massive figure. He had short brown hair and a nicely shaved beard. The man was wearing a tailored grey suit and an undone tie was hanging from his neck. He must have been older then the pair, but not any less charming. He was actually very handsome. "I'm Tony, I bought this apartment" Bucky and Steve looked at each other. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you did not since we bought this apartment." said the blonde, since Bucky was still partially hiding behind his boyfriend. "There must have been some kind of mistake. See, I signed the lease" said Tony showing the signed papers. Steve took the same documents that Bucky was handing him. "Yeah, we did too. See, apartment 4B" Tony checked again if he was in the right apartment and scratched his neck. "We'll call the agency in the morning" they agreed. "Uhm, I'll take the couch then" Tony said, looking at the two of them, imagining that they must have already settle in the only bedroom of the house. "Goodnight I guess" said Bucky, holding Steve's arm. Tony looked at the pair walk away. They were both handsome men. Strangely, the blond's physique was not the first thing that fought his eyes, it was the brunet's piercing blue eyes. Those were the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen.

"What?" screamed the trio in unison. "I'm so incredibly sorry, guys" "So, let me make things clear, you sold the same apartment TWICE, to two different clients?" asked Tony, slamming his hands on the agent's desk. The agent nodded. "And you can't refund one of us either?" "Exactly" Tony rolled is eyes walking it of the door.

"What are we gonna do Steve?" Bucky asked sitting at the kitchen table. Tony wasn't back yet. "I don't know, Buck, I don't know" "Happiness is just not for us, right?" Bucky shed a tear, Steve could hear his voice breaking. "No, no, no Buck, hey." Steve cupped his face with both hands, whipping the tear away. "Don't say that. I promised you that everything will be fine and I'll find a way out of this" Steve kissed his forehead. "I love you Buck" "To the moon and back" Bucky said, putting his hand over Steve's. The door shut close and Bucky jumped on the chair, not expecting any noise. "Uhm, hey, sorry guys" said Tony, wanting to become invisible. "Come in, it's your house too after all" finally spoke Bucky, for the first time. Tony sat at the table, on the other side from Bucky. "So, what are we going to do?" He asked. Steve and Bucky looked at each other. "We really cannot afford another apartment" the blonde said looking at his boyfriend. "Me too guys" replied Tony "Maybe having a roommate won't be so bed, right babe?" Bucky asked Steve, who looked at Tony waiting for his reaction. "I mean, it seems to be our best option" The three settled in the now shared apartment. The apartment was a one-room apartment with a rather small bedroom, but the living area was rather big. They decided that the couple would sleep in the bedroom and Tony would settle in the living room, on a sofa bed. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could take from the situation.

Week 1 It was 5:30 in the morning and the door closed shut and, hearing the noise, Tony woke up. He rolled in his bed, looking at whoever was going out. It was actually Steve, coming home from his daily morning run. It was December and outside it was still dark. And cold. "Why on earth would you do it?" Tony mumbled observing Steve shrugging his raincoat from the snow. Steve silently laughed. "Hey, I am the one who brings you donuts for breakfast" Tony smiled, getting in a more comfortable position to look at the blond man. "Mh yeah, you're an angel" Steve shook his head it's a small smile and walked out, towards his bedroom. "Go back to sleep Tony" Tony turned his head to follow Steve. He was wearing tight thermal pants and thigh t-shirt, too small for him, that was probably's Bucky's. "Bucky, you lucky man" he mumbled, pulling up the covers and gong back to sleep.

Week 2 "Shit shit shit fuck" Bucky screamed, throwing the lid of the mixer in the sink. "Language" Steve screamed back from the bedroom. Tony was reading on the couch and looked up, smiling. "Did he really say 'Language'? Bucky nodded, smiling. Tony looked at the brunet. He was all covered in the smoothie he was trying to blend. Tony walked towards Bucky, laughing. "Here, let me help you" Tony tried to reach for the towel to help Bucky clean up. Their hands touched. Slightly, but Bucky felt it and blushed. He felt his cheeks getting hotter and turned away before Tony would notice it. But he did. He thought it was cute.

Week 4 It was raining cats and dogs outside and the Steve was already late for work. He had to prepare for an important meeting and couldn't possibly be late. But obviously the rain was not enough, the car had to stop halfway out of the garage. Steve grunted and ran up the stairs back to his apartment, hoping that Tony would be awake already. Well, he wasn't. It was still early for night owl Tony but he really needed some help with his car. "Tony. Tony please wake up!" Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony sat up abruptly. "What? Who died?" Steve rolled his eyes. "My car Tony, my car died" Tony laid back, pulling his pillow over his face. "If i knew a dead thing would get so much of your attention, I would have died three weeks ago" he mumbled, not knowing that Steve heard every single word. "Tony please, I need to get to work" Tony got up, grabbed his jacket and his shoes and walked out. "Ok Captain Handsome, I'm going. See?" When they reached the car, Tony opened the hood and started looking for what was wrong, bending over the engine. Steve, on he other hand, had a few calls to make, but he didn't even select the contact to call, being too busy looking at Tony's small body wielding whatever he was wielding. "If you wanted to stare at my butt you could have jut asked and I would have bent for you any time" Tony said, winking at Steve before heading back to their apartment.

Week 6 Tony was finally alone. For the first time in six weeks, he was the only breathing being in the house. Don't get him wrong, he loved Steve and Bucky's presence and he loved that someone was always there. But he also loved his freedom. When he lived alone -well, he lived with his parents, but they were rarely home-  he could do whatever he wanted to. He found clothes constricting and whenever he could he ditched them- all of them. But, of course, he could not go around the apartment naked, he would seem weird at the eyes of Steve and Bucky. If they started ditching clothes as well, he would have considered reprising his old habit. The thought of the two soldiers in their birthday suit provoked a reaction that caused his pants to tighten around his waist. That was his clue to strip down of everything and feel the freedom he had incredibly missed. "Bucky? Steve?" he screamed, tossing his t-shirt on the floor. As no answer came back, he unbuckled his belt and let both his pants and boxers slip down to his ankles. Tony let out a long, loud sigh. He walked to the kitchen and took a glass, pouring way too much whiskey in it. He started walking around the house. At some point, when nothing interested him anymore, he finally decided that is was time for him to take a shower. Confident that Steve and Bucky wouldn't be home for a long time, the only thing he took in the bathroom with him, was the bottle of whiskey. Tony didn't know how long he had been in the shower. He was not even washing himself anymore. He was just letting the hot water run down on him. The bottle was now empty and he was definitely drunk, but he didn't care. When he felt it was the right time, Tony walked out of the shower and stood on the carpet, waiting for as much water as possible to fall on the ground, looking at himself  in the mirror. The room was spinning around him, he needed to lay down. Tony stumbled towards the door, finally managing to open it. In front of the door, with a hand on the handle, was standing Bucky, half naked, with only a  towel around his waist. It was a dream, wasn't it? Bucky looked Tony from head to toe, his mouth slightly open. "Tones" he whispered. "Buck" Tony whispered back, putting a hand on Bucky's chest, wanting to check if it was real or just another drunken hallucination. Bucky's chest was solid and unexpectedly warm. He couldn't take his hand away and Bucky couldn't move hie eyes from the shorter man. He knew it was wrong. He had Steve, he loved Steve, but since the first time Tony had touched him, he couldn't stop thinking about his hand all over hi body. To be honest, he wanted both Tony ad Steve's hands all over his body. Bucky was the first to wake up from that state of trance. "Uhm.. yeah, can I?" Shook his had, taking his hand away from Bucky.  "Uh, yeah of course" Bucky moved from the doorway, giving Tony space to walk out of the bathroom, trying not to look at his naked body. While Bucky walked in, Tony stood still in the corridor, looking at Bucky's perfect body. "Uhm see yah, Tony" said Bucky before closing the door. "See yah" Tony whispered back one the door was closed and Bucky couldn't hear him anymore.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 12

December 4th

DeeDee promised to make up for missing brunch with the girls. So, they made plans to go out to the hookah spot on a Friday night. She looked in her closet and glanced at herself in the mirror and sighed. Phyllis sent her directions to wear something cute, read: a dress, because she picked the one spot with a dress code. 

She looked at the red dress that Phyllis pulled for the club the other night. “Nope.” 

She hung it back up and pulled out a little black dress. It was something that the girls talked her into for a bachelorette party a year ago. The dress had a scooped neckline, cap sleeves and flared out at the waist, so it stopped right above her knees. 

DeeDee twirled around with the dress in front of her in the mirror. “This will have to do.” She added some black tights and her favorite burgundy Mary Jane platforms and laid the dress on her bed. 

She was in the bathroom when the music that was playing stopped and her phone buzzed. She looked down at the call, smiled and hit ‘Ignore,’ then returned to finishing her makeup. The phone buzzed again with a text message alert. 

Prince Erik: You don’t want to talk to me? 😕

DeeDee 💜: I told you I’m going out tonight. 

Prince Erik: Ok, and? We can talk before you go out.

DeeDee 💜: You aren’t slick, E. That was not a regular call.

Prince Erik:  I mean, I wanted to see what you decided to wear. 🤷🏾‍♂️

DeeDee 💜: Erik…

Prince Erik: Yes, Miss DeeDee

DeeDee 💜: No.

Prince Erik: Well, you can’t blame me for trying.

DeeDee 💜: You get an E for Effort.

DeeDee 💜: Don’t you dare reply to that. 🤐 

Prince Erik: I’m tryna get you to take this…

DeeDee 💜: Damnit, E. 🤦🏾‍♀️

Prince Erik: My bad, but I do love how you don’t call me Mr. Erik anymore. 😁

DeeDee 💜: I could go back at anytime, Sir. 

Prince Erik: Oh, here you go. Well, let me know when you get home. You know I’ll be up.

DeeDee 💜: Uh huh, good night Erik. 

Prince Erik: Sending me to bed? Fine, I’ll take a nap before you call. 

Prince Erik: Goodbye Miss DeeDee...for now. 

DeeDee put her phone down and used the big smile on her face to add some blush to her cheeks. She was definitely smiling a lot more these days and Erik had a lot to do with it. Things shifted between them after that awkward encounter with Brandon. She was used to the ‘Good morning’ and ‘Good night’ texts from him. But since then, he’s been sending cute voice or video messages where he wished her a good day. She couldn’t say that she didn’t look forward to those, just as much as his phone calls.

And then she thought he looked good in just a hoodie and sweats, but Erik in a suit was just plain sin. DeeDee often sent up prayers of thanks for his fitness regime and his tailor, because damn. She may or may not have saved a few for, uh, research purposes.

Fully made up, she moved back into her room and put on her dress and shoes. She picked up her phone and snapped a few selfies in the mirror. DeeDee had just posted a few when her phone buzzed in her hand; it was the group chat. Phyllis and Beverly  were outside in the Lyft. 

---

“You are still coming to my defense presentation, right?” DeeDee asked as their drinks and hookah arrived.

“Of course, we wouldn’t miss it.” Beverly responded while she added lit coals to their strawberry and pineapple hookah. 

“What is the date again?” Phyllis looked at DeeDee. 

“Two weeks from today, the 18th.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I requested that off. So, we’re good.” 

“Great, then we can do dinner or something. What do you think?” 

“You know it!” 

“Duh!” Phyll and Bev exclaimed together. 

They picked up their drinks and clinked them together. 

“We gotta celebrate, our friend, the good doctor.” Phyllis added.

“Thanks Phylly Phyll.” 

“Hey, no hard feelings right?” She nudged DeeDee’s shoulder. “I just want you to be careful.”

“Phyll, I wouldn’t have made the call, if I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“I know, we should trust you more.”

“We??? Speak for yourself. I’m happy if DeeDee made a new friend. Whatever it turns into. I’m here for it.” Beverly interjected before taking the first hit.

“Thanks Bev. But really, he is a good friend. So, I am just enjoying what we have right now.”

“As you should, Dee. Besides, it’s not like you’ll meet -”

Beverly bumped Phyllis’ shoulder and hissed. “Shut up.” 

“But think about it, DeeDee’s never leaving Louisiana and I doubt he would come back here to visit.”

“Phyll!” 

“Can we stop the whole DeeDee will be single forever talk, please?”

“But that’s not true. What about Breanna’s little brother?”

“Brandon! Absolutely not.” DeeDee rolled her eyes at them, “Besides, I think he’ll finally leave me alone now.” She looked at her phone and smiled.

“What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just know, that was not and never would be an option for me.”

Their wings arrived and DeeDee dug in. 

“DeeDee, you good?”

“Yeah, you know I love these wings.” She said around a mouthful.

“Uh huh.”

“Phyll, leave her alone.” Beverly pushed a plate towards her. “She’s happy living her life as she is. We should be happy for her.”

“I am happy for her.”

“Are you really?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Phyllis added wings to her plate and sat back.

---

Erik woke up to his tablet ringing. “Hello.” He sat up in bed and lifted it up as he rubbed at his face.

“Ewww, Daddy. Uncle E is naked.” A little voice called out.

Erik looked at the screen and saw Jasmine and Marquis both with disgusted looks on their faces. 

“My bad, Jazzie bear. Hold on.” He grabbed the hoodie next to him and threw it on. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Jasmine replied. 

Erik laughed at her politeness. It reminded him of another woman who had him wrapped around her finger. And she probably doesn’t even know it. He looked at the time, she wouldn’t be home from her night out with her friends yet. But at least, he will be awake when she hits him up. 

“What about me?” Quis spoke up.

“What about you?” Erik shook his head and focused his attention to his goddaughter, “Hi Jazzie bear. And to what do I owe this honor?”

“Daddy, said that you were coming to visit in a few weeks. Is that true?”

“Yes, it is. A good friend of ours is having a party and I promised your dad I would be there.”

“Are you coming to see us, too?”

“Of course, princess. I can’t call that a visit without seeing one of my favorite girls.”

“But I thought I was your only favorite?” Jasmine pouted on the screen.

“Did I? My mistake.” Erik bowed his head towards her.

“Uh huh. Well, I can’t wait to see you Uncle E.” 

“I can’t wait to see you either sweetheart.” 

“Daddy let me down.” Jasmine squirmed out of Marquis’ lap, “You two can talk now. Night Uncle E.”

“Good night Jazzie bear.”

Marquis followed Jasmine out of the room and closed the door behind her.

“One of your favorite girls? I didn’t know you were dating again.”

“Total recall ass nigga.” Erik whispered.

“Not my fault, you slipped up in front of your only favorite girl.” Marquis used air quotes for only. “You knew she would pick up on that. But now, I’m asking.”

“I’m not dating anyone yet.”

“Yet? So, she has potential? Glad to hear that.”

“She has the potential to be so much more than just my girl, Quis.” Erik sighed, “She could be the one I called for.”

“Called for? E, are you talking about that note you wrote in O Chem?” Marquis laughed.

“Yes, that note. I meant every single word of it, too.” Erik flipped him off. “Just because you found Serena while you were in school, doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hey, hey. Who am I to knock anything? If you think you found her, I’m happy for you. You deserve to have that kind of love in your life.”

“Thank you, man.”

“So, when do we get to meet her?”

“Here’s the thing, I have to meet her first.” Erik watched Marquis’ expression. “I know, I know, but we met online, so you know.”

“Uh huh, please tell me you know what she looks like.”

“I do. Trust, I was able to verify that.” Erik’s cell started to ring. He saw it was DeeDee and smiled. “Hey Quis, look that’s her now. So, I’mma go. But I will let you know when I get to Baton Rouge.”

“Alright, man. Good night. And tell the mystery lady that your best friend said hi.”

“Will do.” Erik ended the call on his tablet and picked up his phone. “Hello Miss DeeDee.”

“Heeeeeeey Erik,” DeeDee slurred into the phone. 

Erik could already tell what kind of call this would be. He gave it 15 minutes before she was softly snoring in his ear again. No problem, he was wide awake now.

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama @killmonger-fics @beautifullmelodyxx @raysunshine78 @fd-writes​ @ljstraightnochaser​

[gleekto]

Fic: Unsolicited Advice (11/?)

Summary: Blaine and Kurt are 22 and living in New York City. Blaine is in a stale relationship. Kurt likes to have his bachelor fun. They haven’t met yet.

Just your standard coffee shop meet cute…but in a drugstore, in the condom aisle.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Unsolicited Advice - Part 11 - Knit (Blaine POV)

Blaine gives himself a final once over - tightest white henley short sleeved shirt he owns, perfectly tailored dark blue jeans with cuffs, red shoes for flare. No bowtie - tonight he can breathe. One last thing before he exits the house. He takes out his phone.

Blaine: Are you going to Vibe tonight?

It feels like way too long waiting by the door as the three dots on his phone appear and disappear and then appear again.

Kurt: I am.

Blaine: I’ll be there.

When Blaine walks in the door at 9pm, he finds Kurt where he was the last time - at the bar, with a Sea Breeze, talking to the bartender. Joe, he thinks Kurt said his name was. The bartender sees Blaine making his way over before Kurt does and he gestures, looking at Kurt with a knowing nod. Kurt turns on his barstool and waves him over.

“Hi,” Blaine says as he pulls up on the stool beside him.

“Hi,” Kurt smiles. He looks happy to see him.

“We broke up.” Blaine’s voice cracks slightly as he says it but he also smiles. He is definitely happy to see Kurt. “Just yesterday.”

“Broke up? What - really?” Kurt is surprised even if Blaine isn’t. He looks at him with concern. “Do you want to go somewhere else - and talk or eat cheesecake or something?” They are friends which makes Blaine feel warm. And also he hopes that won’t change. He and his condom-advice giving stranger in the night. They’re at this place.

“And spoil your fun Saturday evening?” 

“I’m not missing anything,” Kurt shrugs, seemingly ready to pay his tab and scoot.

“No seriously. I wanted to come here. This break up should have happened months ago.” Blaine pauses and looks at Kurt trying to convey his sincerity.  “I’m okay. Honestly. I just want to have a night out. Everything I haven’t been doing for way too long,” Blaine says meaningfully and Kurt looks at him skeptically. “You can buy me a drink?”

Kurt still looks uncertain but nods. “Done. Gin and tonic like last week?”

Blaine shakes his head, “Something more fun.” 

...

Is it weird for him to feel so giddy after a break up? The last few months of his relationship had been boring, and the last few weeks frustrating. He’s sure that Stephen was feeling it too - Their reluctance to inhabit each other’s worlds, the snippy fights. But they kept falling back into their routine with a text of ‘Wanna grab dinner tonight?’ or “Movie at my place?” The last few times they had just watched a movie and Blaine wouldn’t even stay over, making excuses about an early class or late night studying or something or other. Surprisingly it was Sam, Blaine’s roommate, who unintentionally gave the final push. - “Blaine, I know this is unsolicited advice, but don’t you think it’s time to end this thing?”

The minute the words were out, Blaine could hear himself exhale. It was like permission. “Yes.” There was no hesitation. “We haven’t been connected for months. And lately we’ve been getting on each other’s nerves.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded as if it was obvious.  “That and the fact that you can’t stop talking about that random guy from the drugstore.”

“Kurt? No,” Blaine shakes his head dismissively. “What do you-” So maybe Blaine had mentioned him once or twice. He had to make sure Sam knew how lucky he was that he was getting a home cooked breaded chicken dinner - even the guy in the grocery store had remarked. And of course it was newsworthy that they ran into each other again. And that Kurt was in theatre too. And from Ohio. Maybe Sam had a point.

Time for Blaine to face the music. 

They met for coffee at the generic Starbucks near campus. Not their usual place. Not at their usual time. They each had a class in fifteen minutes. When Blaine walked in and saw Stephen’s knitted brow, he knew that Stephen knew. When it was over, they hugged only slightly awkwardly and Blaine stepped outside. The cold December air splashed his face. It was over.

...

“For fun I recommend Sex in the Driveway?” Blaine’s eyebrows rise in amusement. “Peach schnapps, sprite, various other fruity delicacies.”

“I could never say no to Sex in the Driveway.” He loves that Kurt is still flirting. Loves that he can flirt back. “Sounds perfect.”

Kurt hands him his drink and raises his own glass. “To friendship,” Kurt says cautiously, but sincerely.

“To new beginnings,” Blaine says instead, and looks Kurt directly in the eyes as he clinks their glasses together.

[fireinmoonshot]

A/N: This is a masterlist for my EGGSY UNWIN x READER fics from the KINGSMAN fandom. Everything on his list was written between September 2017 and December 2021 and it will be updated accordingly if I write anything for Eggsy in the future! Enjoy!

ONE SHOTS

When I’m With You - 1k (Eggsy decides to make things official.)

Secrets - 1.1k (You’ve known Eggsy since you were kids, and you finally decide to confront him about his secretive job as a ‘tailor’.)

Jealous - 1.1k (You and Eggsy have feelings for each other, but Agent Whiskey is a flirt and Eggsy is easily jealous.)

Bloodsport - 1.1k (Inspired by the song Bloodsport by Raleigh Ritchie.)

Same Time Tomorrow - 800+ (Platonic Eggsy x Statesman!Reader tease each other about their slang, background Tequila x reader.)

There For You - 900+ (Eggsy comforts you after a break up, and you realise you’ve never been happier to have him in your life after an unexpected surprise arises.)

First Date - 1.2k (Eggsy x Male!Reader go on their first date.)

The Golden Circle Car Chase - 2.1k (Kingsman Agent!Reader is with Eggsy during the car chase and fight scene with Charlie.)

Safe and Sound - 1.1k (Eggsy worries about you when you’re out late on a mission... it’s a bad habit he has.)

DRABBLES

“Go on then, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” 

“Stay the night. Please.” / “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” / “Look at the sky.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you and– Oh, screw it!”

“Am I dead?”

“Don’t tell me how to calm down, you calm down!”

“Wait a second... are you jealous?” / “I’m yours, in every way possible.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“It’s too early for this.” / “But then I’d have to put pants on...”

“Here, take my hand. Everything is fine, just hold onto me and keep moving.”

“Stay the night. Please.” / “Just hold me.”

“Are you trying to make me hate you? Because it’s working.” / “I’m like 20% sure this will work. There’s an 80% chance we could die horribly and violently, but this plan is solid, I swear.”

“Let’s split up.” / “Let’s not.” 

“Let’s split up.” / “Let’s not.” / “We all know that –– will be the first to die.”

“Which part sounded good to you? The party in the woods? The party in the woods, in the abandoned cabin? Or the anonymous text that was sent to you about the first two.”

“I’m yours, in every way possible.”

“Why are we at a strip club?” / “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” / “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.”/ “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“Christmas is just another day. What’s the big deal?”

“I need your help. I want to kiss (Y/N) at midnight, and I need you to help me make it happen.” / “Ah, yes, it’s almost midnight, which no one is going to kiss me at.”

“Don’t hurt a single hair on her head.” / “Get behind me now.”

“I don’t think I could ever stab someone. I mean, let’s be honest. I can barely get the straw in the Capri Sun.”

“I may have mildly panicked...”

“I thought things were going great.”

“What did you do to the Christmas Tree?”

HEADCANONS

Eggsy being an unwanted wingman for you and Harry.

Having a baby with Eggsy.

Being newlyweds with Eggsy.

Eggsy as a father.

Domestic family man Eggsy.

Eggsy having a short and small s/o.

Eggsy with a badass, yet innocent looking, Kingsman partner.

How Eggsy proposes.

How Eggsy reacts to his s/o being jealous.

Impromptu sneaky food runs with Eggsy.

Eggsy being annoyed when others walk all over you.

Eggsy dating a content creator.

Eggsy’s wedding day with you.

Eggsy dating an ice skater.

Eggsy dating a Statesman agent.

Eggsy dating someone with anxiety.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 12/14/2020:

Once again, it has been awhile since I have done one of these. I do try to keep people up-to-date with how things have been going and the answer is: slow.

December is always really busy for us between Christmas and the STEM Fair (my kids each have a huge project to do between November and mid-January). At least I don’t have to travel this year (I do not enjoy traveling), so maybe I’ll get to relax a little during Christmas break.

When I am not reblogging Fatgum shitposts, I am still slowly plugging away at a little in love. To be honest, I am not as into this story as Heart is a Muscle, but I’m really concerned that if I stop working on it, I will never finish, and I really do want to finish it. This is the first story I have ever written in semi-real time. I get a lot more comments per chapter, and it recently beat out Between Tides for my “most kudos” on AO3, but I dunno, I feel like people like Heart is a Muscle more? I have no idea! It is unknowable! Writing is weird! I do tailor my writing a lot toward the people who leave me comments, because a big part of why I do this to make friends, so if you don’t leave comments, you get what you get.

Speaking of which, how does ff.net even work??? I get roughly the same hits on stuff there (although I think they count different especially on multi-chapter stuff?) and very, very few likes or comments compared to AO3. It’s only a tiny bit more effort to paste my stories over there after I’ve already put them on AO3, but if it were, I would probably give up on them by now.

I got some new ProCreate brushes from Bardot Brushes on Black Friday (I got the Artist’s Bundle and I really love her tutorials). I’ve been having a lot of fun with them. I still don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing a lot of new and different things that I don’t know how to do, now with texture. Anyway, I have two pieces I’m really proud of, but I can’t post yet, for Reasons, but they’re really good! I swear!

Anyway, I’m kinda bored and lonely, so please feel free to hit me up with low-effort asks or yell at me to work on my writing instead of goofing off (I need it).

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 47 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet bombed her design pitch, and Adore and Pearl broke up.

This Chapter: Violet gets a lovely surprise, Aiden gets angrier, and Courtney comforts a friend.

***

“So,” Fame looked over at Raja, leaning back on the green velvet couch. “What do we think?”

Ivy had come by with lunch, two salad containers now sitting half empty on the table. They had received printouts from Ivy with the original couture sketches, whatever samples the designers had handed them, and polaroids of the garments as they looked today.

“About the couture looks?” Raja smiled. They were talking about the Spring collection, but Raja was also finalizing the dresses and roles for Monday’s holiday collection showroom show.

“Mmh,” Fame nodded, fiddling with her thumb, the edge of her manicure looking like it was cracking.

“Who do we want this on?” Raja held up one of Kiara’s holiday designs, the dress a lovely red. “I’m thinking blonde?”

“Good call.” Fame smiled, that particular dress without a doubt ending up in Chad Michaels’ closet. It always got Fame in the best of moods to watch Raja work, her friend at her very best when she was pulling final styles together, her eye for the entire picture unmatched.

“We still need a holiday dress for Raven,” Raja smiled, holding up her fiance's headshot. “Opening or close?”

“Who says she’s getting either?” Fame teased, a laugh leaving her when Raja shot her a look. “I want her closing. She does that very well. Makes everyone feel like spending money.”

“Mmh,” Raja smirked, a proud expression on her face, putting Raven with one of the prettiest dresses in the bunch. It was weirdly romantic how Raja always looked out for Raven, though Fame was sure she’d deny it if she was ever confronted directly.

“Okay,” Raja sat back on the couch, putting her elbow on the back, golden bracelets clacking on her wrist as she rested her head on her hand. “What’s the verdict for couture?”

“Hmm,” Fame chewed her lip, flicking through the folder on her lap. “I think Alexis should open. This sky-inspired piece of hers,” Fame pulled the sketch out, “is lovely.”

“I agree.” Raja nodded.  “And closing?”

There were several to choose from, but if Fame was being honest, there was only one that made sense for her.

“What about Violet’s?”

“Violet’s?” Raja sounded genuinely surprised, her eyes widening. “I thought you hated it?”

“What? Why?”

“Because you cut her off?”

“Raj, please,” Fame rolled her eyes. “She was talking my ear off, explaining all these incredibly unnecessary details when her work clearly spoke for itself. It’s very unbecoming to need that much reassurance of a job well done.” Fame pulled Violet’s dress from the folder, the flared sleeve and horizontal beads exactly what Fame wanted.

“Aha.”

“Good.” Fame put it down on the table, not noticing the small smile on Raja’s lips. “We’ll email everyone, and start looking for our exclusive models if we need anyone from overseas-” Fame paused. “Hold on. I have to call Courtney. This manicure is driving me absolutely crazy.”

***

It was always a rare relief when Fame decided to go into Raja’s office for a meeting rather than the other way around, and today was one of those lovely days, Ivy taking care of everything they needed and urging her to go take a real lunch break while she had the chance, that she’d call her back if necessary.

Which for Courtney meant a visit to her favorite department at Galactica: makeup. It was incredible how just walking into their suite made her whole body relax, the bright and sunny creative energy something she absolutely craved. Even the way people dressed was better down here: bright colors and fun patterns and hair every color in the rainbow. Alaska gave her a warm welcome as always, inviting her to sit down and eat with them, even sharing some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, which was a very nice addition to Courtney’s own sad little garden salad.

“You know,” Kim said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she took in Courtney’s face, eyes squinted as if imagining the way the colors would look, “the Spring Rain palette would look amazing on you.”

“Omigod, it so would! Let’s try it out!” cried Amy, clapping her hands. Amy was the department’s coordinator, and Courtney hadn’t spoken to her much, but based on her electric-blue pigtails and ruffly Lolita dress, she knew she liked her.

“Whaddaya say, Court? Wanna be a canvas for a bit?” Alaska asked.

“Sure!”

Soon, Courtney was sitting in a director’s chair as Kim and Amy went to town on her face.

“Are your eyes green or blue?” Kim asked, tilting her chin this way and that in the bright light.

“Green. But I think in some lights they look blue.”

“Yeah, this cerulean is really picking that up.”

“Try adding a bit of the peacock,” Amy suggested.

“Yes! Good call!” Kim said, picking up the palette again.

Courtney closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of brushes being swiped against her skin, Kim’s movements both precise and certain. It was awhile before Courtney felt any urge to speak again, asking a question that had been on her mind for awhile.

“Um...do you guys know Bianca Del Rio?”

“No, I wish!” Kim chuckled. “She’s such a badass.”

“We have mutual friends. Why?” Alaska smiled curiously, and Courtney suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

“Well...I don’t know, I was just wondering what you think of her.”

“She’s everything I want to be when I grow up,” Amy piped up, swatching a few lip colors on Courtney’s arm. “She’s supposedly a real ball-buster, but my friend at Marie-Claire says she’s a decent boss. At least, people like working for her.”

“That’s cool,” Courtney said, biting her lip, cheeks growing hot under the lights as she worked up the nerve to ask what she really wanted to know. “What about, um...her...dating history. She’s gone out with a lot of girls, huh?”

“Yeah...she has,” Alaska replied slowly, exchanging a look with Kim as Amy stepped up to apply the chosen lipstick.

Kim waved a pair of lashes in the air, waiting for the glue to become tacky.

“The thing about Bianca is…” Alaska paused, seemed unsure of whether she should continue, before saying, “She’s not really into relationships. She just doesn’t ever seem to want more than flings. I mean, we’ve crossed paths dozens of times over the years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with the same girl twice.”

“Oh.” Courtney nodded, settling back while Kim applied her lashes, wondering why her heart was pounding so fast.

“But that said, I mean...she does seem to treat people pretty well. You certainly never see girls crying about her in the tabloids, which I think says a lot, considering her...volume.”

“It helps that she’s apparently god-level in bed,” Amy giggled.

“Don’t trust the rumors,” Alaska warned.

“Well, I’ve heard it from someone first-hand, so…” Amy trailed off, giving a suggestive wink before reaching forward to finish the look with a delicate, shell-pink lip gloss, as Courtney tried her best not to squirm in her seat.

“Umm...anyway…” Alaska began awkwardly, when loud buzzing from the table interrupted. “Oh, Court, it’s Fame.”

Alaska handed her the phone, the usual seizing of Courtney’s stomach whenever her boss called telling her that the fun was over.

“Hello?”

“Courtney. I’m done with Raja, and my thumbnail is chipped.”

“Ye-”

Fame hung up before Courtney could respond, leaving her slightly puzzled.

“Thanks guys, this was super fun,” she said, sliding off the chair and grabbing her handbag, knowing she’d be expected to send a memo to design right away, along with apparently finding a manicurist to come to the office? Maybe?

“Wait!” Kim cried, holding up a lighted mirror for her to see the whole look.

“Wow.”

It was certainly a lot more colorful and dramatic than the makeup Courtney normally wore, and for a split second, she let herself imagine that she was backstage getting ready to perform, or on the set of some glamorous photo shoot, before pushing those silly fantasies down and giving Kim a grateful smile.

“Thanks, really, you guys are awesome,” Courtney said, internally lamenting the fact that she had to leave this colorful and fun office to go back to the stark white institutional tension upstairs.

***

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: (undisclosed)

Subject: Spring Runway Selection

MEMO TO GALACTICA DESIGN AND TAILORING DEPARTMENTS

FROM THE OFFICE OF MISS FAME

Please find attached the selected looks for the opening and closing of the Spring runway show, along with the alternates that we are keeping in the show, placement TBD.

Additionally, make sure to note the following upcoming deadlines in relation to the Spring couture collection:

December 5, 7 pm - submission for the rest of the Spring couture runway looks

December 11, 7 pm - final revised Spring couture submissions

December 12 - Selection of final couture looks/alternates

December 14 - Individual designer meetings with tailoring dept

December 18, 11 am - First fitting

January 11, 11 am - Second fitting

***

“Oh...“ Violet couldn’t believe it.

She had clicked on the placement, hoping that her dress would be in there somewhere, Trixie’s promise that nothing would get scrapped completely not enough to reassure her, but there it was, in black and white.

Her first couture look for Galactica was closing the fucking Spring show.

“Holy shit-” Violet whispered, the information not sinking in at all.

She had been chosen, she had done well, she was making the company proud.

Violet was just about to panic, everything so overwhelming, when a second email ticked in.

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: Violet Chachki

Subject: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

OMG ALKDJALSKDJALDJ IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!11 AKFJSALKFJASLKFJALFSD CONGRATS!!!!!!!111

Violet snorted, Courtney’s excitement radiating through the screen, that message somehow making it real.

From: Violet Chachki To: Courtney A. Jenek Subject: Re: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

Thanks

***

Aiden closed the door to Trixie’s office firmly behind him, using all the strength in his body not to slam it with full force. He briefly imagined how good it would feel, to be able to make the walls vibrate with all of the rage he felt inside. Instead, he swallowed down all the bitterness and headed to his desk.

It had been an awful meeting, Trixie pulling his typical nice guy act to say that he was “concerned” about Aiden’s “attitude” and wanted to make sure that he was gonna be the right fit for the Galactica team long-term. That he wanted to see more collaboration with the other designers, and as a learning experience, he should be prepared on Monday to assist backstage for the Holiday collection show.

Assist.

Aiden was a designer, not a fucking tailor, not a fucking assistant, and this was going to be a new low. Not to mention that he was already in a foul mood, having seen the selection for the opening and closing Spring runway looks. That new little brat, the baby with no experience, not like Aiden, had been chosen to close the show.

He sat at his chair for almost a minute, saying nothing, just breathing deeply. Before Kiara asked, “Everything alright, dude?”

“Oh yeah. Everything is fucking great!” Aiden snapped, not bothering to stay and take in the stricken look on her face before getting up and marching to the restrooms, where he could at least lock himself in a stall and get a tiny minute of peace and quiet.

***

“Omigod, I’m so happy to see you!” Adore exclaimed, pulling Courtney inside her apartment, over to the sofa. “I stole a bunch of alcohol from Bianca before I left, so I’m well stocked! What do you want?”

“Gin and tonic?” Courtney asked, taking off her coat and settling down against the plush velvety purple fabric of Adore’s sofa.

“Coming right up, ma’am!” Adore exclaimed, walking over to the open kitchen to pour Courtney’s drink.

“So, you seem...how are you?” Courtney ventured, knowing that Adore was probably still in a fragile state, but not wanting to destroy what seemed like a decent mood.

“Well you know… It’s been shit. But I stayed with B all week and she’s like, kinda the best in this situation. She didn’t even gloat over being right.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I’m glad she took care of you.”

Adore set Courtney’s glass down.

“Yeah, it was nice.”

There was a firm knock on the door, and Adore jumped up again, running to answer.

“Pizza’s here!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, I ordered ahead because I knew you’d be working late and you probably haven’t had a real meal all--thank you!” She closed the door, carrying the boxes and a bag over to the coffee table and setting it down with a smile.

It was such a sweet gesture, and Courtney was truly starving, so she almost felt bad reminding Adore, “Um...I’m still doing that vegan thing, remember?”

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, I-” Adore bit her lip, looking more distraught than was probably necessary, given the circumstances.

“It’s okay, I’ll just pull off the cheese, don’t worry!” Courtney reassured her.

“But you’ve told me like a billion times and I keep forgetting and I’m just the worst friend ever,” Adore sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay, really.” Courtney crawled over to Adore, hugging her tightly.

“It’s not. I got you a kale caesar salad too because I know you used to like those but that’s not vegan either. God, what is wrong with my stupid brain?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re human, you make mistakes. It was still so nice of you to get all this.” Courtney pressed a kiss to her temple. “And you know what? I’ve been so strict for a few weeks, I think it’s okay to have one cheat day.”

“Are you sure? We can order Chinese or Thai if you want, or there’s-”

“I’m sure. I came here to try and cheer you up. Not to make you feel guilty.” Courtney snuggled against her, head on her shoulder.

“Okay. We can postmates some vegan gelato for dessert.”

“Perfect.”

Adore sighed, leaning her head against Courtney’s for a moment before sitting up and opening the food. Courtney accepted the plate from her, pulling the cheese off her pizza and shaking up the caesar salad - she decided that she could handle the dressing if she omitted the little container of parmesan.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Courtney looked up at Adore and asked, “Do you want my cheese?”

Adore’s eyes widened, looking down at her plate.

“Yes!”

She took it with such enthusiasm that it made Courtney laugh.

“Was this the plan all along?”

“I wish. I’m not that smart,” Adore told her.

“Yeah you are. You’re very smart. You’re the best.”

Adore held her gaze for a few moments, eyes welling up before the tears spilled down her cheeks. She covered her face, and Courtney shoved the plates aside, laying Adore’s head down in her lap.

Courtney stroked her hair for awhile, letting her cry, not saying anything, tears soaking into her skirt and tights. When her sniffling finally subsided, she asked, “So on a scale of 1 to 10...how much do we hate her?”

Adore rubbed her red, swollen eyes. “That’s the hardest part. I don’t really hate her at all. I mean, I asked her to be honest with me, and she was, and...it just wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So...no, I don’t hate her. It would be too exhausting to hate her.”

Courtney took her hand, holding it tight and solemnly saying, “Okay. Then I’ll hate her for you. So you don’t have to.”

Adore’s face crumbled as her tears began falling again.

“You’re the best friend in the world.”

“No, you are,” Courtney said with a grin. “Come on, let’s go wash your face and order that gelato!”

***

“I just can’t believe that my dress is going out on that runway, like, I was so sure Fame absolutely hated it, and-”

“You don’t need to chop the parsley that finely lovely eyes,” Sutan smiled, stirring the pasta puttanesca sauce they had made together. Sutan wasn’t necessarily the best cook in the world, neither he or Raja ever really picking up on their mothers love of spending time in the kitchen, but he could do a few dishes well, and after seeing Violet’s fridge, he had made it a mission to make sure his girlfriend had a minimum of culinary experience.

“Oh,” Violet paused, looking down at the cutting board. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sutan pressed a quick kiss against her temple, standing side by side in the kitchen surprisingly nice. “I know it’ll be just as amazing as your holiday dress.”

“Please,” Violet smiled, though Sutan could see on her face that she was pleased. He wasn’t going to buy anything at the show, but he was still coming along, both to test one of his newer models, but also because he wanted to see what Violet had created in action.

“I’m serious.”

The sauce was almost done, Violet pulling a face when she had seen him slice up the anchovies, but Sutan was pretty sure that she’d like the dish, if what she tended to gravitate towards could be used as any indication.

“Would you mind setting the table?”

“Not at all,” Violet smiled, putting the knife down, quickly washing her fingers, her jewelry left in the little bowl by the sink that Raja and sometimes Raven had used when they all lived together.

Sutan hadn’t actually noticed it until Violet had dumped her rings into it, the fact that it was there completely escaping his attention, interior design never something that had interested him.

When he had gotten married to Kahmora, he had moved from this apartment directly into her place and back again after their divorce, how she wanted things decorated not anything that had mattered to him in the short time they had been married.

He had never really lived with Jinkx, their relationship thankfully never moving any further than their disastrous engagement, but he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have been asked about his preferences, shame momentarily curling in his belly at the thought of how unfair and terrible he had been to Jinkx.

“Sutan?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Violet’s voice, the woman standing by his cabinet with a smile on her face. “Did you buy wine? To have with dinner?”

“I got us a bottle of red.”

“Okay,” Violet nodded, grabbing the wine glasses from the shelf. Juju used to complain when she came over, and had told both Raja and Sutan multiple times that the apartment was furnished for giants, but Violet never had trouble getting anything.

Sutan’s alarm went off, telling him it was time to drain the pasta, Violet handing him two plates so he could serve up their meal, both of them sitting down at the table.

“Do you like it?” Sutan smiled as he watched Violet taste the food, a thoughtful expression on her face as she chewed on it.

“It’s fine.”

“So you hate it?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on his face.

“No!” Violet seemed outraged. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Violet kicked him under the table, smiling now. “It’s nice.”

“Sure,” Sutan laughed, Violet’s deadpan deliveries still something he was getting used to, her dry humor a lot more enjoyable than he had ever imagined. “Good.”

They ate for a while, chatting back and forth, Sutan refilling their glasses, Violet almost finished with her pasta when she put down her fork.

“I-” Violet looked at him, her teeth biting into her lip. “I’ve been thinking about Aspen?”

“Yes?”

“And I’d like to go.”

“Oh?” Sutan wasn’t aware that it had been something she had been considering, the fact that she was even thinking about turning it down not even crossing his mind.

“Well I’m glad.” Sutan smiled, hiding his confusion. “Mostly because I already booked your plane ticket.”

“Really?” Violet sounded genuinely surprised, almost as if she wasn’t sure if he had been serious about the offer.

“Really, not that I would have forced you to come.” Sutan tapped her foot under the table, Violet still such a mystery to him. “Raven on the other hand,” Sutan smiled. “That could have been a problem, since she’s bought matching everything for you two.”

“... What?”

***

ADORE: Courtney’s a vegan, you know.

BIANCA: Yeah, she told me.

ADORE: I keep forgetting like an asshole so I just wanted to make sure you knew and would have some vegan stuff on thurs

BIANCA: It’s gonna be 100% vegan, I hired a chef to cater. She even making vegan relleno de pavo

ADORE: WAIT WHAT

ADORE: How the FUCK do you make vegan relleno de pavo?

BIANCA: I dunno, but she’s a professional.

ADORE: And what about the corn pudding? IT NEEDS BUTTER

BIANCA: Would you relax? It’ll be delicious

ADORE: WHAT ABOUT THE TURKEY

BIANCA: I don’t eat turkey. You’re outvoted 2 to 1.

ADORE: BIANCA DEL RIO I’VE HAD A VERY TRAUMATIC WEEK! IT’S THANKSGIVING! TURKEY!

BIANCA: I’ll get you a package of fucking Hillshire Farm, calm down

ADORE: I want to be mad at that but I love Hillshire Farm. lol

BIANCA: You’re welcome

BIANCA: Btw you’re also welcome to cook whatever you like and contribute to the meal

ADORE: Um...no thanks

BIANCA: Thought so, cunt

[mamabear-elinor]

THE FORGING OF BITTER BONDS

IV. The Winter’s Ball December 19, 1992

[cw for a comment on weight/body image, blood, violence (just a punch)]

“Mother, I cannot wear this,” Elinor wrinkled her nose in the direction of the dress bag that she was holding in her hands, a monstrosity of ice coloured lace and tulle spilling from it, as if the bag could not contain its contents. 

Elinor was standing in the middle of her mother’s suite at their hotel across from the ballroom that the Order always rented for the Winter’s Ball. It should be noted that she was barefoot. Una Briar sat at her vanity, looking at her eldest daughter in the mirror with a pinched expression.

“Why are you not ready?” she asked, as if she had not heard Elinor’s protest. She probably hadn’t. Una never heard anything that she didn’t want to. It was what made her so impossible to argue with. So hard to rile. Elinor was convinced her temper was all Briar. Her mother was as unfeeling as stone. 

“I can’t wear this!” Elinor repeated. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, unless you’ve gained weight since starting university. I had you measured on fall break. The tailor is never wrong.”

“No--I don’t--I mean it’s hideous. I won’t be able to dance in this! I’ll look like--like an icicle.”

Una stood from her vanity and moved towards Elinor, taking the dress bag from her and pulling the dress out. “Undress,” she commanded.

“Ma--” 

“Do you want another chance with Mr. Smith or do you want to disappoint me? Your father? Your sister? Again?” 

Elinor’s cheeks flamed red and she reluctantly dropped her robe and pulled her shift up over her head. Her mother held out the gown expectantly and Elinor stepped into it, letting the itchy fabric be drawn up over her thighs, scraping at her stomach. It felt like rolling in a patch of nettle. She reached over and adjusted her bust as her mother tugged at the zipper. She bit down on the inside of her cheek and sucked in a breath, trying not to cry. 

It wasn’t that Elinor hated dresses. She just hated this one. And she--didn’t want to go to the ball. The expectations her family had were as constraining as the tightness around her ribs as she was stuffed into the dress.

“There,” Una hummed, coming around to Elinor’s front and brushing some of her hair back from her face. “You look beautiful, Mr. Smith won’t be able to say no.”

Elinor was not as confident, but she allowed her mother to fuss over her for a few moments more and then watched as she pinched her own cheeks in the mirror and they headed out of the door. 

The ballroom was painted in low light of orange and blue. Real candles flickered and cool tones from the decor gave the whole thing a cool, hushed atmosphere. There were several people already mingling and men in waiter’s suits who stepped up to take her fox fur coat. She drifted behind her parents and sisters, fiddling with the silver necklace around her throat. It was one that Francis had given her. She hadn’t taken it off since then, even after they had broken up. Part of her still clung to a bit of hope, not matter how she argued with her parents otherwise. How could she not? They were so insistent that she just needed to find him. Talk to him. Tell him about how she would be transferring to Oxford--

“Ellie!” A flash of red and someone slammed into her side, grabbing her arm. “Gosh, I missed you so much. You look amazing!”

Elinor snorted. “Goldie, I just saw you on Thursday.” She felt a warm rush of affection for her friend, though, and clung back to her. If she had Marigold at her side, then she wouldn’t be alone in this. Though, she felt guilty, because she hadn’t found a way to tell Marigold that she was not going back to Edinburgh in the spring. She hadn’t told Sorcha either. Or her professors. Or anyone else. It would have ruined it. She had just wanted to enjoy what she had left. 

“So? I know you missed me too.” Goldie tossed some of her hair.

“Yes, alright. I did.” 

“Good, now let’s grab some champagne.” 

The girls made their way around the room, chatting with their peers, catching up with everyone. The Order only gathered together like this twice a year or during Christenings of new sons of the Order. Or for the King’s Melee. The women did not spend much time together otherwise. The men trained together as squires. Went on hunts together. Their bonds were always much stronger. That was, until you married into a family. Then those women became your friends. Elinor and Marigold were so close because they had always felt like kindred spirits, and made sure to keep in touch outside of these other events. Now that they went to school together, they were closer than ever.

Which just made Elinor feel worse about keeping her silence. As they made their way around, Elinor sticking quiet and close to Marigold’s shining aura, she felt awful. Her champagne bubbling uncomfortably in her gut. 

They were standing with a group of girls, Marigold’s head thrown back, laughing loud and bold enough to draw a few eyes when someone approached, attention clearly caught. Thomas Harrington. Elinor knew him, of course she did. He had already completed his Blood Hunt and was a proper Prince. He was also Francis’ best friend. 

“Marigold DunBroch,” he said, his voice a bit too soft. He cleared his throat. 

Marigold’s head whipped towards him, eyes sparking. “Marigold DunBroch is what my Ma calls me when I’m in trouble.” 

“Marigold, then.” 

“I suppose.” Marigold took a drink, but her blue eyes hadn’t left Thomas’ face, though his own eyes darted around a bit. When he looked at Elinor, standing at Marigold’s side, she lifted her eyebrows.

“May I--may I have this dance?” 

A few girls around them tittered. 

“Sure,” Marigold, shrugging a shoulder coyly, though Elinor could tell she was pleased. 

Elinor tried to be pleased as well. If Marigold and Thomas danced and became something and Francis took Elinor back, they could all be the greatest of friends. It was a fantasy, long reaching, but it comforted Elinor just the same. 

“Here, Ellie.” Marigold held out her glass for Elinor to take and slipped her hand into Thomas’, so he could lead her out onto the dance floor.

“I can’t believe he asked a DunBroch to dance,” one of the girls, a de Chateaupers, if Elinor remembered correctly, sniffed. 

Elinor cut her eyes towards her. “Maybe because he doesn’t want to dance with someone who looks like they ran face first into a wall,” she snapped viciously at the blonde and then moved off in a huff. 

“What’s her problem?” Elinor heard as she moved away. She whipped through the crowd, though not as fast as she liked, her dress trailing behind her like a ball and shackle. Its train was heavy and cumbersome. She looked over her shoulder to tug it out from under the foot of a large man, causing her to bump right into someone. 

“Oh, I am so sorry--Francis.” Elinor would recognize those blue eyes she was looking into anywhere.

“Elinor,” he greeted her back, his shoulders straight as she stood tall. “I hope you are well.”

“Well enough,” she told him, trying to remember how she was supposed to be acting. For all she wanted to do was slap him across the face. The urge rose suddenly and she curled her hand into a fist. “And you?”

“Well, thank you.”

There was an awkward beat. Francis looked out to the dance floor. “Would you like to dance? I--think we have a few things to talk about.”

No, Elinor wanted to snarl, but she did as she always did--as she had always been taught: she took a breath and smiled. For just a moment, she wished her teeth were fangs. She wanted to be the thing that frightened men. “You honour me,” she told him. Her voice sounded robotic, but she kept smiling graciously and took his hand. 

He led her onto the floor and placed his hand on her waist. Last year, at the Winter’s Ball, his hand had strayed below where was appropriate and she had stepped on his toes in return with a laugh and a blush, before he’d pulled her into a darkened corridor and stole kisses from her lips.

Since then, he had stolen much more from her. Elinor hated him. Being in his arms now, it made her feel as if she was going to explode. Still, she smiled. “How is school?” 

“Good, thank you.” He told her with a nod. “And you?”

“It’s wonderful. I am having a marvelous time.” This was easy to say. It was the truth and she wanted him to be hurt by it. 

He nodded, still not quite looking at her. “Elinor, I have something to tell you.”

“Alright, tell me then.” Her voice had an edge to it, even though she kept smiling. She tried to remember what her mother taught her: a lady does not frown, a lady always smiles, a lady defers to a man’s wants, a lady dances smoothly, a lady can do all of these things no matter what. The world could be ending, but a lady never has a hair out of place or anything but a smile. 

“I am engaged.” 

Elinor’s feet stopped. She planted herself on the floor and felt as if she had become one of the ice statues that were sweating on the edges of the ballroom. “What?” 

“I am engaged to be married. I need my necklace back. It’s a family heirloom, you know. I need to give it to my bride.” 

Elinor didn’t think, she just reacted. Let her heart guide her.

And her heart told her to punch this bastard in the face.

So that was what she did. The crack of flesh hitting flesh was the loudest thing in the room. Something crunched and Elinor’s hand began to throb, a sharp pain shooting all the way down to her elbow. She hissed a breath and stumbled backward the same time that Francis did, holding a hand up to his nose. Elinor saw a flash of bright red amongst the twirling blues, whites, and golds. 

“You bitch!” Francis shouted, but it came out slurred from behind his hand as he tilted his head forward. 

Elinor didn’t know why, but she started to laugh. 

“Shut up!” Francis snarled at her. 

Stumbling backward again, she tripped on the train of her own dress and then fled, turning down the very same corridor that Francis himself had led her down a year ago. She moved through the hall before opening a random door and shutting it behind herself. Once she was alone, the laughter turned to a sob and Elinor’s eyes began to burn with tears. She crossed the room, throwing open the double doors and stumbling out onto the balcony, catching herself on the railing. She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. 

Instead, she pressed her head against the cool marble of the railing and sucked in the cool night air. 

“That was the worst fookin’ punch I have ever seen in me life.” 

Elinor whirled around at the sound of a gruff voice behind her, reaching up simultaneously to scrub at her cheeks. “Fergus, go away,” she hiccuped, trying to look as vicious as she had felt just minutes before when she had punched Francis. The fire had gone out, though, and the humiliation smarted something awful. Especially now that her best friend’s older brother had found her and was probably going to drag her back into the ball kicking and screaming. Or worse, go and get her mother. 

He did neither of those things. Instead, he just chuckled and held his hands up in surrender before moving towards the balcony railing. “I am just sayin’ you clearly haven’t ever punched anyone in your life.” 

“Of course I haven’t,” Elinor scoffed, her voice wobbling. She watched him wearily as he moved to lean against the railing. He didn’t seem perturbed by her tears, she supposed she was grateful for that. 

“You have a good reason?” 

“Of course I did,” Elinor snapped before turning slightly so that she could wipe her eyes with her fingers. Fergus, notably, did not offer her a handkerchief. Instead, he just cocked his head at her, red hair washed out in the dark light. She stuck out her chin and took a deep, steadying breath. She didn’t want him to know that she was nervous. Elinor had only been alone with one boy--man--before and when she had darted her eyes about, he had stepped closer. What had been a reckless, fluttering, foolish heart, now felt somewhat sturdier, thanks to Francis. 

“How did you find me?” she demanded when she looked back over at Fergus. 

“The breeze.” He shrugged.

“What?” 

“The windows let in a draft. No other drafts in the hallway except the one coming from this room.” 

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” 

He nodded as if this was obvious. “Your hand alright?” 

“What? Oh--” Elinor looked down at her hand, flexing it once. It smarted, but she didn’t think there was any permanent damage done. “I think so.” 

“Good.” Fergus stood up to his full height. He was not much taller than her, but he was broad enough that he blocked out the light of the moon. His own fist raised between them. “Next time--”

“There won’t be a next time,” Elinor protested, her cheeks heating. 

He held her gaze for a moment. “Next time, put your thumb over your fingers and squeeze down on your middle finger with it. Hit with the knuckle of your middle finger, aye?” 

Much of its own accord, her hand made a fist, copying his and then raising it up for approval. Fergus stepped forward and reached up to adjust her fingers. His hands were big, warm, and calloused, but they moved gently. “There ya are. Now, I’ll give you a few minutes. If I were you, I’d sneak out the back and head to the hotel. Your ma is on a warpath. I’ve seen men quiver less in their boots when facing down a Fear Gorta.” 

That surprised a laugh out of Elinor. She reached up to put a hand on her chest. Her fingers brushed the cool tip of metal from Francis’ necklace. Slipping her hands behind her neck, she unclasped it and then weighed it in her hand for a moment before turning toward the balcony again. She tossed it into the darkness. When she turned back, Fergus was staring at her again.

“What? Are you going to criticize my throwing arm now?” The words were between a challenge and a tease. 

“No, no. That, uh, was an impressive throw. I’ll...take my leave of ya now, lass. Good luck.”

Elinor smiled a bit and it was her first true one of the night. “Thank you. Good night.”