#I'm Definitely projecting but ah well

[probablyaparadox]

I'm not usually one for autism hc's but ykw movie shadow is VERY autistic/neurotypical coded imo. I think it's the "beware the alien freak" that does it for me thematically. He struggles to relate to people, so the people who he can relate to and who care about are SUPER valuable to him, because it feels like there is something wrong with him. People look at him like there is something wrong with him, or something bad and different. Like idk I feel like a lot of media I've seen doesn't address THAT aspect. Behaviours in representation is one thing, but experience is another, and the experience aspect is really important to me, which is why I see it more with Shadow. Before I first had it brought up that I might be autistic, I FELT like the "alien freak", and to other people who have felt that way, I think knowing you can be loved and seeing people like you is important. Also revenge Guac.

[sysig]

I’ve always assumed that gaster and the dreamers had a parental relationship, considering that he seemed pretty young (teenager) when they took him in, plus it’s kinda implied that gaster had a abusive or at least neglectful childhood so it makes sense that he would want to view asgore and torial as parental figures.What do you think?

Also sorry about pestering you about fell!Handplates but it’s such a fun au. But how do you think gaster first reacted when the dreamers started becoming cruel?

Yup! Generally speaking I view Gaster as having a mostly parental/filial relationship with the Dreemurrs, and that evolving into a (mostly) platonic family dynamic, though it is kind of complicated with Asgore being his King and boss and Toriel disappearing and them grieving her together - I think it brought them closer, and not necessarily in only healthy ways ♪

Haha, I don't really mind, but I can only give my own thoughts and opinions on it! Some of it is stuff I'd also like to know haha ♫

I kind of assumed they were Fell from the beginning, that the argument is that Monsters are just Like That, it's in their Nature, and Fellplates!Gaster is trying to find proof that Monsters are capable of change, that with the "correct" kind of Nurture, they don't have to act on their Fell impulses. As for when he was inspired to start looking for that, hmmm ♪

[dduane]

Erotica and anniversaries

...The big E, first. Here she is. Isn't she lovely?

...Right there upstairs at the Library of Congress, on the second floor. (I noted at the time we passed through some years back—and continue to smile at the memory—that her artist has included his copyright statement right there, to make sure no one misses it.)

...Anyway, where were we? ...Oh yeah: the local takes on erotic writing and smut.

This subject seems to come up every couple of years. What nudged me into revisiting it this time was the notes off a comment to a post earlier today, responding to someone working on an explicit-leaning AU, and discussing the writing of (story) bibles for projects.

Anyway, the notes:

#love that the advice was not just 'stick to porn' or 'don't write porn at all' but 'ah yes; common problem; let me explain to you how to write a series bible'

Well, disclosure here: in my case, it can't really be otherwise. :)

Let this act as everybody's sort-of-biennial reminder (if needed) that I'm not going to be caught condemning people for writing smut, as I've written it myself. (And continue to do so when the mood moves me.)

The post from very nearly two years ago, discussing the issue in more detail, is over here. As you'll see if you read it, there were some folks who experienced brief episodes of cognitive dissonance on learning I was a cheerful writer of explicit material. Some of the surprise was probably due to the fact that a lot of people see me—mostly due to the relatively-higher profile of the Young Wizards books—as primarily a writer for younger readers.

But that's not how I got started. My (1979) debut novel centers a universe where the following exchange between two of the protagonists appears—they then being wrapped up in blankets and afterglow in the wake of a prolonged and enthusiastic post-reunion shag:

A soft chuckle in the darkness. “Lorn, remember that first time we shared at your place?” “That was a long time ago.” “It seems that way.” “—and my father yelled up the stairs, ‘What are you dooooooooing?’ “—and you yelled back, ‘We’re fuckinnnnnnnnnnng!’” “—and it was quiet for so long—” “—and then he started laughing—” “Yeah.”

Nor was this a one-off. This book and its sequels contain a fair number of passages in which human (and occasionally non-human) sexualities, both in the abstract and the experientially concrete, take center stage. And the mode in which they're expressed and discussed is intended for adults. Those sequences can probably be described as at least borderline erotica. (I certainly try had to be as graceful about such passages as I can, when and where it's appropriate to be.)

With this in mind, it's worth repeating what turns up in that earlier post, which came off a query to a ficcer about "how do you feel knowing that people may be jerking off to your work?":

I'm an entertainer. Writing's a form of entertainment. (And not just for the readership: for me, too.) To be aroused by art one's experienced is (almost by definition) to be entertained, I'd say...

Other people's art in these modes certainly is entertaining for me: and I desperately hope mine is for other people. (Almost all my more explicit writing is published only pseudonymously, which from my point of view is just fine. There's a fair amount of writing work out in the world that [for contractual or other business reasons] doesn't have my name on it. This is just more of the same.)

(Per that, adding here again my own tags from that earlier post:)

#and no I'm not going to let on where the smut is#why would i deny anyone the delights of the search#and of being repeatedly mistaken#while possibly finding smut writers who're better at it than i am#:)

Anyway, finally: from that earlier post—on nearly the thirty-eighth anniversary of something happening to me that would, just a year before the event, have seemed wildly unlikely—this note, unusually apposite because of what today is, and what's coming tomorrow.

I consider erotica—and its more casually-dressed (or undressed…) cousin, smut—to be perfectly legit forms of literary expression; ones that can soar to unexpected heights if you’re willing to put in the work. The sexy-stuff-writing muscle requires periodic exercise if it’s to remain viable and/or useful. So I exercise it. And being a 70-plus-year-old person who sometimes creaks audibly when she walks has done absolutely nothing to decrease my interest in the subject—the brain being, after all, the biggest sex organ, and the one least vulnerable to the depredations of time. If anything, nearly fifty years of experience (and more than three and a half decades of marriage to @petermorwood) have added… let’s just say nuance. 😏

So, happy Valentine's Day to all those who choose to celebrate, in whatever mode.

And to the Man Upstairs:

...See you in a few, sweetie. :)

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (6)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!

To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?

Some time before August

New York City

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.

The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.

Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."

"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."

"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "

"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"

Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.

"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.

Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.

Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.

Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.

"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.

"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."

Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.

Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.

The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.

"Sir, I - "

"Bruce."

"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."

"Got a partner?"

Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.

"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.

"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."

"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."

Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."

"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."

"I don't need to see - "

"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.

"You want me to hide my relationship?"

"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"

"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."

"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."

"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.

Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.

"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."

Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.

"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."

"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."

There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.

For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.

There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.

"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."

Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"

Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.

But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Near the end of August

Los Angeles

The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.

"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."

You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"

You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.

"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."

She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."

You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "

"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."

"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."

It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.

"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."

You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"

"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."

"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."

"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."

You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.

Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."

You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.

All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.

Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.

"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.

He loves you. It was true.

Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.

And that was the problem.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Late September

The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.

The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.

He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.

Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.

It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.

Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.

Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.

And don't think about her.

An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"

Oh fuck.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.

"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."

"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."

"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "

"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"

"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.

"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."

"Oh, you log off?"

"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."

"It can get frivolous, can't it?"

Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.

Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.

Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.

Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...

You must be on FaceTime everyday!

Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?

Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?

...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.

He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.

He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.

You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.

Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.

The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.

How special is the bond between dragon and rider?

What is a funny moment from set that you can share?

How similar are Aemond and Daemon?

All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.

But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?

"Matthew McConaughey - "

You.

" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "

Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.

" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -

You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.

He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.

" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -

Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?

" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."

"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"

"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."

It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.

Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."

Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"

Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?

"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.

And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -

We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.

He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨

I wonder if she's there behind the scenes

yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!

Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!

Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this

Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.

Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.

All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.

To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.

Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.

Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.

Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!

Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.

He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.

Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.

Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.

He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.

"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."

"I don't need a breather." I need her.

"Ewan - "

His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."

"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

October

The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"

It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.

You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.

But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.

And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.

Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.

It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.

Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"

You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.

As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.

Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.

It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.

"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.

"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.

"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."

"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.

The rest of the cast.

"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?

Do they know?

Do they secretly hate you for what you did?

"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.

"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.

"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.

"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.

You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.

They notice.

"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.

Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"So you guys know, huh?"

"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "

"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"

"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."

You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.

Your friends know you too well.

"I... I miss him."

Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.

It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.

You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.

"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

November

"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"

Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"

The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.

"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."

"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.

After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.

Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.

They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.

Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.

After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.

"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.

"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.

A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.

Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.

The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.

When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."

Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.

"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"

Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.

While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.

But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.

"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."

Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.

"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?

"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."

"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."

"Is it?"

Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.

Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.

So he says, "She misses you, you know."

Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

"Let's head back inside."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

December

You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.

Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.

Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.

"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.

"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."

"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."

She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."

"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."

The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.

Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.

"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.

You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."

"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"

"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"

She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."

"Any plans for the night?"

She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."

"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"

"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."

"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.

"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."

The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.

It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.

Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.

"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.

"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"

"Why would I - "

"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.

The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.

The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.

A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.

"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."

"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."

"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."

You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.

"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.

A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.

"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."

"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.

It's what you deserve.

"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.

"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"I... I can leave if you want - "

"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."

You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.

And he is making you pay for it now.

But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."

Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.

Stay, he asked. So you do.

It's what you should have done, months ago.

"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.

The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.

The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.

"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."

"Feels like a lifetime."

He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"

"How... how can you even ask me that?"

"How can I - "

"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.

"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."

"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.

"Like I said - nothing to fight for."

"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."

"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"

"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.

"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."

"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"

"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."

"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.

The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.

"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"

Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.

Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.

You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.

"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."

"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."

"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."

Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.

How desperately you want it to be true.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?

But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.

Someone familiar to you.

And it's him.

"Ewan?"

"I need to speak with you."

You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.

You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.

When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.

"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."

"I'm sorry - "

"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"

"Ewan, I don't under - "

"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."

"You're kidding."

He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."

His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.

You'll be using each other.

You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?

What, except for him, and for good this time?

What, except everything?

"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!

The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk

So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.

Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕

[chuusmuts]

imagine innocent!kabukimono going wild

smut. afab reader, fingering, tiny angst before kabukimono went wild. not proofread so... grammar errors(?)

i was too busy playing project sekai, everyone. i'm sorry. also, thank you for 200 followers. .·°՞(≧▽≦)՞°·.

kabukimono was a puppet. a naive puppet. or at least that's what you thought. he was new to the world, especially to human's feelings. he didn't understand them yet why– why did he feel so warm around you? why was he so afraid you might leave him as well? why did his heart goes doki-doki around you and his palm grow all sweaty whenever he's with you?

ah, it must be that– friends. but wait, friends don't feel like that toward each other, was what one of the kids in the village said. at last, he made up his mind to tell you about this matter instead.

"y/n?" as usual, you were reading a book when kabukimono suddenly knocked on your door. you turned around to find him looking at you with that innocent face of his. "hm? what is it?" you petted the empty space beside you, inviting him to sit beside you on the bed.

kabukimono walked over to you, noticing how tired you looked after helping the villagers for the day. he sat down beside you and laid his head on your lap, his arms snaking around your waist. he felt safe and loved being close to you. he didn't know why he did this, but he couldn't help himself. he just really liked to be near you.

naturally, you ran your fingers through his indigo hair despite being in confusion. "what's wrong?" your eyebrows furrowed as you asked him softly. did something bad happen to him that caused him to be this clingy? you were beyond concerned.

he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes full of tears, causing you to panicked. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice shaking. seeing him cry definitely made your heart ache. you quickly wiped his tears away as you too began to feel emotional, feeling tears forming in your eyes. "i- i won't leave you. i won't leave you, okay? so don't cry." your voice cracked as you said so.

kabukimono hugged you tighter, burying his face into your chest. he believed that you wouldn't abandon him, no matter what happened, but he's still scared. it was as if there's a voice in his head telling him you'd eventually leave him sooner or later. even so, having you there gave him some comfort.

"gosh..." a silent sigh left your lips as he cried softly on your chest. he's too schmaltzy, you couldn't even do anything about it. that's when you got an idea. "shall i kiss you to cheer you up?" you suggested, trying to stop him from crying. a little crazy idea, but that would do it.

kabukimono looked up at you, his eyes wide with surprise. he didn't expect such a thing from you, but he also didn't mind it. he nodded eagerly, his cheeks still wet from his tears. without a word, he leaned forward, giving you permission to do whatever you wanted. you could do anything you wanted to him, and he would let you.

you let out a chuckle as you felt him getting more and more excited. you couldn't help but think of him as a sad puppy. when you gave him food, he'd immediately get excited. slowly, you leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, and lastly, his lips. the kiss was slow and short as your hand crawled up to cupped his pale, soft cheeks.

a moment later, you pulled away to be met with a warm cheeks kabukimono. "there. do you feel better now? or should i kiss you more?" you asked with a small smile. your cheeks weren't that different from his, hinting that you're probably shy and your heart was beating millions per seconds yet you still acted like this was nothing to you.

the corner of kabukimono’s lips curled upward, feeling much better. you kissed him just to cheer him up, and he was grateful. he leaned closer to you, giving you another small peck on the lips. this time, he held onto you tighter, not wanting to let go. you instantly reciprocated his hug, feeling warm in your chest and butterflies in your stomach. you pinched his cheek softly, earning a grunt from him, "you're so cute. i wish i could kiss you more." you blurted out accidentally.

kabukimono looked up at you with surprise, his eyes glistening under the room's light. he knew you meant well, and he trusted you completely. he leaned in again, he didn't hesitate as he pressed his lips against yours. he was nervous, but he also found himself enjoying the sensation. the reason was unknown, but he liked it so much, and he knew he wanted more. more kisses, more touches, more closeness. he needed them to survive.

you closed your eyes, savouring the taste of his saliva and the feel of his skin against yours. but the kiss quickly turned into a heat make-out session as he pushed you, so you're laying on the bed while he's on top of you. his wet tongue was now inside your mouth as he explored the depth of it. though, the longer you kiss him, the harder it was for you to breathe hence you pulled away, trying to catch your breath. kabukimono was fine as he's a puppet, he didn't need to breathe.

"have you kissed someone before?" it was kind of unbelievable that you're asking this question. but he was just too good at kissing, and it made you flustered. and for a second, you forgot you're making out with kabukimono, himself.

he shook his head, unable to speak due to the lack of vocal cords. he looked fine to you, but on the inside, he was really nervous and excited. grabbing your hands, he held onto them tightly. he wanted to tell you that he had never been kissed before, and he was so happy that you were his first kiss. he wanted to tell you that he loved you and that he would never leave you. but he couldn't, so he just held onto you, hoping that his actions would convey his feelings.

an awkward smile appeared on your feature when you realised you couldn't move your hands. "i– i see... i'm sorry, that was wrong of me." you teared your gaze away from him as blush creeped up your cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed because of your wrong assumption.

however, when you turned your head to the side, his hand grabbed your chin, forcefully making you look at him. his eyes held no malice, but it was no lie that you felt a little stunned and shocked at his sudden behaviour. when his eyes locked with yours, it seemed like an electric charge kept you from looking away. before you even realised, he crashed his lips against yours once again. this time, harder with a tad of hunger.

kabukimono moaned softly as he kissed you. his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you as you whimpered and writhed underneath him in response. he wanted to touch you everywhere, and he didn't care if it was wrong or not. he was lost in the moment, and he wanted to stay that way forever. as he kissed you, he felt a surge of energy flow through him, filling him with life and happiness. it was the first time he had ever experienced something like this, and he wanted more. he wanted to feel this way all the time, with you by his side.

he wanted to express his love and gratitude to you, but he didn't have the words. instead, he showed you through his actions. he didn't mean to push you, but he was so desperate for affection and connection. his body responded to you in ways he didn't understand, and he didn't care. all he cared about was being close to you and experiencing these newfound feelings. he wanted to feel you deep within him, to hear your moans of pleasure, to feel your body tremble underneath his. he was lost in his own desires.

you couldn't believe how fast things escalated. he was so overwhelmed by his own emotions that he lost control. in the beginning, he thought you would be upset, but when he saw you all blushing and flustered, it only fueled his desire to kiss you more.

kabukimono groaned as he continued to kiss you passionately. he felt his body reacting to your touch, and he couldn't stop himself. he wanted to please you, and he would do anything to make sure you were satisfied. reaching down between your legs, he felt your wetness and excitement. he slid one finger under your kimono and pushed it inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure, his other hand still holding on your wrists tightly.

your soft whimpers were muffled by his lips as he began to thrust his slender finger inside you. you kept bucking your hips, trying to chase the pleasure he's giving you. "one– one more finger, please..." you pleaded. how could he refuse, especially when you begged him with your sweet voice and that cute face of yours.

kabukimono nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with desire. he slid another finger inside of you, causing you to cry out louder than before. he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, moaning into your mouth as he did so. he wanted to make you feel good, and he wouldn't stop until you came on his fingers.

feeling an orgasm building up, you clenched your fingers as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers. when the coil in your stomach finally snapped, you moaned his name loudly, white liquid came spilling all over his fingers shamelessly. you panted heavily as your clit throbbed with neediness. you had just orgasmed, but you felt like it wasn't enough. though, you quickly dismissed that thought as you focused on kabukimono, who's right on top of you.

kabukimono grinned, feeling satisfied with his work. he leaned down and pressed his lips to your neck, sucking on it gently. "I want to please you," he said simply. he crawled off of you, then stood up. reaching for his kimono, he pulled it off and dropped it to the floor. he reached for your kimono as well, pulling it off you. he watched you carefully, wanting to make sure you were okay with everything he was doing. he then took off his own shorts, revealing his eager and hard cock, twitching to be inside you.

he wasted no time positioning himself above you before lining his hardened member with your entrance, wanting to feel your tight walls wrapped around him. he started to slowly enter you, giving you time to get used to his size, which earned a small moan from you.

kabukimono groaned as he felt you wrap yourself around his cock. he leaned down, pressing his lips to your neck once more. he moved his hips, starting to thrust slowly, each movement causing him to moan into your ear. eventually, he let go of your wrists as he reached down, cupping your breasts in his hands. he played with your nipples, rubbing them gently to further stimulate you.

he let out a breathy moan, his eyes shut as he began to thrust into you. he wanted to take you to heaven and back tonight, and he wouldn't stop until you screamed his name (again) in pleasure. he bit his lip, feeling your walls tightening around him and he increased his speed, fucking you hard and fast.

soft moans began spilling from your lips, feeling the way he slammed into you and reached the deepest parts of your pussy. god, you felt so good, your gummy walls wrapped tightly around him.

kabukimono moaned into your ear, his hands running through your hair. kissing your cheek, your neck, your collarbone, he increased his speed, wanting to feel you come around him. he felt your walls squeeze around his cock, causing him to groan in satisfaction. as if that's not enough, he pinched your nipples, causing you to mewled in pleasure.

your moans grew more desperate the faster and the sloppier he thrusted into you. moaning his name loudly as you came on his cock, your thighs trembling and your walls fluttering around his length. he wailed, feeling your walls contract around his cock. he came, shooting his seed deep within you. he held onto you tightly, not wanting to let go. kissing your forehead, he gave you a warm smile. "one more round, yeah?" he whispered before leaning down and giving you an open-mouthed kiss.

[reallyromealone]

Rome you know I'm gonna need a part 2 to that zoro x reader x sanji right cause I can't let that slide😊

Title: goodbye love

Fandom: one piece

Characters: Zoro, Sanji

Fic type: angst

Pairings: Zoro x sanji

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, aggressive conversation, sad reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(name) hummed as he stocked bread in a small bakery, it had been five months since he left and he felt lighter and happier since the breakup. He was far from the island they docked from, getting a job easily at a bakery in a small coastal town.

Occasionally he wondered how his now ex boyfriends were, how they reacted to the letter... Were they sad? Angry? Did they even care? (Name) Didn't know and slowly stopped caring. He was starting fresh, leaving the pirate life to have something more domestic and stable though getting used to land was a bit tough.

"(Name), you work too much, go home early" the elderly bakery owner said softly, her cane tapping against the old wood with each step "are you sure? I don't mind being here" (name) asked her, (bakery owner) chuckled as she led him out "the rush is over, not many people will come today"

"Alright, but just get one of the kids to get me if it gets busy"

"Yes yes, now go!"

(Name) Chuckled as he was kicked out of the store, she was old but strong.

'with this extra time, might as well grab some stuff from the market' he thought as he went back to his place to grab some bags and coin, the walk calm and the gulls squawked as they flew overhead, the town was on the side of a huge hill, winding and full of turns, small but popular. It was perfect.

His apartment was small, he was surprised to have a one bedroom, a fireplace for cooking and even a bit of space for seating. His bed was the most expensive thing he owned, he saw it at the market and immediately got it. It was a futon, comfiest thing he ever slept on and he even got pillows. It was pricy but thankfully he had a fair amount of coin from his previous employment.

He only slept on wood or a hammock.

It was a nice adjustment.

The market was the biggest thing beside the town square, many vendors and travellers in and out selling everything and anything one could need.

(Name) Loved getting fruits from other places, one a trip as a treat for himself, today he got something called an apple, typically he's used to mango and jackfruit on this island so it was a nice change.

(Name) Made a few purchases, important house things and a few little trinkets for himself.

A book from a far away land.

An apple.

Some sewing needles and thread as he wished to learn to sew better.

And finally, a little music box.

It was nothing fancy but the sound it played reminded him of childhood, his mother would hum a tune quite similar to it.

What he didn't expect to see was a familiar boat.

"Shit" (name) immediately rushed home, he wasn't ready to face anything at the moment and definitely not with how he left.

(Name) Was shaking as he got inside, glancing out the window of his apartment to see if they are close to his home, irrational be knew but he had to check. Thankfully the street just had a few passersby and no strawhats. He would have to avoid anywhere that sold alcohol for a while, most restaurants and thankfully he was off for the next few days so he didn't have to go to the bakery. (Name) Looked at his collection of books and the sewing supplies and sighed happily.

Guess he has to stay inside and do the things he enjoy.

What a shame.

(Name) Spent the day doing his hobbies as a tiny radio played music in the corner, thankfully this small town had a radio station so he could enjoy some sound.

Knock knock knock.

(Name) Was engrossed in his quilt as he looked up curiously, setting his project down to go down to answer the door, a staircase down to the front door "hello (name), I thought you would enjoy some bread" his boss said kindly and handed him a basket of breads and a few muffins "ah thanks boss, that's real kind of you" the two made small talk casually, the elderly woman happy he's starting a new project "I have some sewing supplies at my home, I'm to old to use them but you can have them" the woman ushered him to follow and (name) realized he would have to leave his house.

Shit.

Silently begrudgingly he followed her, the woman excited to have someone take the supplies.

Then he smelt it half way to the bakery, cigarettes and fresh made food.

"(Name)?" He didn't turn around as his boss looked back curious, Sanji staring at his ex in awe.

(Name) Looked different.

Glowing, lighter and most of all; happier.

(Name) Turned to see his ex and sighed "hello Sanji" this is why he didn't want to go outside, his ex boyfriend looking hurt at the lack of sweet names for him, stopping closer he saw the uncomfortable expression wash over him "Luffy is gone to go get some food, have you.... (Name)" Zoro halted, staring at (name) like salvation.

(Name) Was startled at how awful the two looked, like they barely slept and sanji looked almost dead inside "can we talk?" His voice gravelly with exhaustion and (name) looked to his boss who smiled "we can talk later, you do what you need to do"

And that's how (name) ended up with the two in his apartment "So what do you guys want" (name) said less of a question and more of a demand, clearly uncomfortable "seems you settled down nice" Zoro commented as he looked at the homey space "I have" (name) stared at them unimpressed "why did you leave?" Sanji finally spoke up and the room grew more tense.

"I couldn't stay any longer, not with you two"

"Why?!" Zoro snapped and (name) had enough "because you two didn't care!" (Name) Fired back angrily "you two acted like I didn't exist! Flirting with women and ignoring me to do anything else! Who in their right mind WOULD WANT THAT! DID YOU EVEN LOVE ME?!"

It was silent as (name) heaved out a dog "I gave you two everything! And I get cheating and neglect!"

The two pirates barely had time to react as (name) lost his shit on them "why didn't you love me?" (Name) Finally asked, shaking and angry "why was it never me? You two showed more love to women and fucking swords than me!"

"I-im sorry..." Sanji whispered and (name) looked him in the eye "then why did you look at Nami in a way that you could never look at me?"

Zoro fidgeted, knowing he was next and in a rare moment... He was nervous.

"And why was I not worth spending time with?" There it was "you come here demanding to speak with me yet the time we dated you couldn't even be bothered to do the most basic of things with me"

"(Name)--"" I think you two should leave" (name) finally said "I have no interest in this conversation anymore... Goodbye "

"(Name) Come on-"" leave now, I'm begging you"

The two sorrowfully walk down the stairs, unable to get a word in as the door slammed behind them.

And at that moment they truly realized.

They lost (name).

[claramelooo]

Hey, guys!

If you're reading this, congratulations! We've reached the end of this saga! I'm so happy I had the courage to start this project, and it's all thanks to the support of you guys who interacted with me so well that I felt comfortable writing with all my heart.

I still thinking in eventually to write one-shots for them, but I dunno, you tell me!! Lol

and I will definitely write more about the milfs we love, no worries!

Enjoy it!!

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Happy Ending!!!

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem Reader

Summary: Wanda's courage makes her knock on your door after five years

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb | Part 6 - Pure Crimson | Part 7 - Dependece | Part 8 - Passion | Part 9 - Revenge | Part 10 - Control | Part 11 - Consequences

VELVET CHAINS

Love

After five years, everything had changed. You had graduated in International Relations and were working in a mid-level position at the American embassy, handling negotiations, mediating conversations between diplomats, and diving into a routine that made you feel important. It wasn’t exactly what you had imagined when you first dreamed of your career, but you were on the right path.

Living in a quiet Manhattan neighborhood, your apartment reflected who you were: an organized person with a touch of calculated chaos. Stacks of books sat on the coffee table, an unfinished painting leaned against the wall, and Sparky, your Golden Retriever, bounded back and forth with endless energy.

Sparky had come into your life at a strange time, a gift from Yelena. "You need some decent company," she said, placing the puppy in your hands. "Because clearly, you can’t pick good company on your own." It was her way of showing she cared, and you knew that.

Yelena was one of the few ties you kept to your past. Despite your differences, you often met up, usually for quick lunches at tucked-away cafés in the city. She would talk about her work, about Natasha, and occasionally drop hints that you should go out more.

"You're young, smart, and beautiful," she’d say, almost like a mantra. "And you live like a nun."

What Yelena didn’t understand—or pretended not to—was that you didn’t just want to go out more. You wanted something that felt impossible to find: connection.

Even when you went out with your blonde fling (if you could even call her that), everything felt hollow. She was funny, gorgeous, and always willing to meet up, but she knew nothing about who you really were. She didn’t know about Sparky, your sleepless nights reading poetry, and definitely didn’t know about Wanda.

Ah, Wanda.

There were moments when thoughts of her crept in. Not intentionally, of course, but reflexively. Like when Sparky did something adorable, reminding you of how much Wanda loved dogs. Or when a particular song came on, one she used to hum while cooking.

But you’d learned to shove those memories into the back of your mind. There was too much to deal with in the present.

That day, for example, a stack of reports awaited your review, and you had a meeting at three. But first, you needed to take Sparky for a quick walk. Grabbing his leash, you left the apartment, greeting a few neighbors along the way.

"Good morning, Y/n!" called a cheerful older woman from the second floor.

"Good morning, Mrs. Harris!" you replied, your smile automatic but genuine.

Mornings were like that: simple, ordinary. A far cry from the life you once lived.

By the end of the day, Sparky lay curled up on the rug while you pored over a complicated email. The weight of routine settled over you. Everything seemed in place, yet something still felt out of tune.

You paused, staring out at the city through the window. The lights shimmered on the horizon, a promise of vibrant life out there.

But inside you, there was only silence.

After five years, everything had changed—except you.

Outwardly, you were the perfect image of an adult woman: successful, independent, living the life anyone would envy. But inside, the marks Wanda had left on you lingered like invisible scars, impossible to ignore.

You still felt like a little girl, torn between the desire to be cared for and the need for discipline. No matter how much you tried to bury it, there was a void in your routine that no job, company, or casual relationship could fill.

Wanda had shaped you. She taught you to surrender, to trust, to lose control in a safe way—and somehow, that had defined you. The nights with her still visited your dreams, a mix of longing and anguish. Her voice, firm yet full of care, still echoed in your mind when you felt overwhelmed.

"Good girl."

It was a simple phrase, but loaded with meanings no one else seemed to understand. It wasn’t just the compliment itself; it was what came with it: warmth, security, the feeling of being seen entirely.

A shiver ran down your spine at the memory. Sometimes, you hated it—hated how her memories still held power over you. But the truth was that part of you yearned for it again: a firm touch, a gaze that stripped away all your layers of protection, a kiss that said, "You’re mine."

You’d tried to recreate it with other people, of course. Foolishly, you thought you might find something similar with your blonde fling. But the woman lacked patience, or the understanding to handle your needs. She enjoyed herself, sure, but she had no idea that, for you, it went far beyond casual sex.

There were times when she rolled her eyes as you hesitated or became too submissive. It made you withdraw, reminding you that without Wanda, no one else seemed willing or capable of understanding.

"You’re complicated," the blonde had once said after you hesitated to take any initiative.

The woman straddling you moved rhythmically, trying to coax a reaction that just wouldn’t come. It wasn’t her fault; she was doing everything right. The problem was you. It was always you. Or rather, the emptiness left by the one who should never have gone.

Your vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling, your hands resting lazily on her hips, entirely unenthusiastic. Everything felt wrong, each touch a cruel reminder of what you truly wanted.

And it was only one person.

Not even five damn years had been enough to erase her name from your mind. It was etched somewhere between your ribs, buried deep but never far enough to ignore.

Wanda.

You closed your eyes, trying to push the thought away, but it was useless. All you could do was remember the feel of her mouth on yours, the sound of her raspy voice calling your name, the devastating look that made you feel like the only person in the world.

Now, she was on the other side of the country. Probably lying in bed next to her perfect husband. You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Vision was everything any woman could want: stable, respectable, and, of course, approved by everyone that mattered. But he was never you.

You let out a deep, heavy sigh, so profound the blonde paused, propping herself up on her elbows to look at you with a mix of confusion and irritation.

"Are you going to fuck me or not?"

You shifted your gaze to the blonde straddling you... Jenna? Jemma? You couldn’t even remember her name. All you knew was that she worked in a different department.

Gripping the blonde’s hair, you yanked her head closer. "That’s not how you ask for what you want. But since you’re a dumb little slut, I’ll do all the work."

The woman, who had been about to protest your dirty language, fell silent as you buried three fingers inside her. You grabbed her waist and pulled her down until your fingers disappeared completely.

Her nails were already digging into your shoulders with the simple movement. You smiled to yourself before you began to destroy the poor woman's pussy. You thrust with maximum speed and force, making her scream in pleasure.

You curled your fingertips, hitting the woman's spongy, pulsing spot—bringing tremors in her legs, indicating the strong signs of an orgasm. When the woman came loudly, you pulled out of her.

At least she started to get dressed quickly afterward, "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

You gave her a weak smile. "Maybe."

You grabbed your phone, ordering an Uber for the blonde, the feeling of having brought her here haunting your mind like a mistake weighing on your heart.

As you waited for the blonde's Uber, guilt began to mix with boredom. It wasn't just her; it was the whole situation. The repetition of the same pattern: empty encounters, forgettable faces, names you didn't even bother to remember. You grabbed a robe to dress yourself and cover your nakedness—you threw yourself on the living room couch, while Sparky, your faithful companion, jumped beside you, offering an affection that seemed to be the only true constant in your life.

The apartment was a clear representation of who you had become over the past five years. Modern, well-decorated, yet with an air of transience, as though you had never truly committed to the space. A reflection of your own soul, perhaps.

And now, there was the job offer abroad. Paris. A dream for anyone in your field. The first thought you had when you received the news was excitement. Yet, there was something inside you that hesitated. It wasn’t just attachment to what you had built in Manhattan. It was what you still couldn’t let go of, even after all this time.

Wanda.

Her name still carried a different weight. A name that brought a flood of memories: her laughter, the way she looked at you, the way the world seemed to dissolve when you were together. You didn’t know how she was now. You knew she was in Texas. But beyond that?

Was she still with Vision? Did the boys remember you? Had she completely forgotten about you?

The emptiness returned, but this time with a twinge of curiosity. What was Wanda doing now? Was she sleeping beside Vision? Was she thinking about you?

The sound of a notification on your phone pulled you from your thoughts. The Uber had arrived. You got up, escorting the woman outside, ensuring she was safe—you’d never let anyone leave without making sure of that. The blonde waved at you from the car window, and you responded with an automatic gesture before walking toward your balcony.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar, yet more mature voice.

“You should put some clothes on if you’re planning to stay out here all night.”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. A strong wave of denial surged within you. Turning toward the voice took all the strength you had to stop yourself from retreating indoors.

The world seemed to tilt when you turned, and there she was. Wanda Maximoff. Five years. Five damn years since the last time you’d seen her, but nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

She stood at the base of your balcony, arms crossed over her chest, covered by a wool cardigan. Her hair was longer than you remembered, with strands that caught the faint streetlight, giving her an almost ethereal glow. But that wasn’t what captured your attention. It wasn’t her undeniable beauty. It was the restrained fury in her eyes, a deep, uncontrollable fire that pierced you like blades.

“Wanda…” you whispered, her name barely escaping your throat as your heart raced wildly.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression stern as she tilted her head slightly. “I asked if you’re staying out here all night or if you’re finally going to get dressed.”

You looked down at yourself, realizing you were still in just your robe, nothing else. But it wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that she was there. After five years. After all the time and distance, she was standing on your balcony, looking at you as though she could dismantle your entire life with a single glance.

“I…” You tried to speak, but your voice failed. Your chest tightened, a storm of emotions you couldn’t name swirling inside you. Fear. Guilt. Longing. Anger. Love. All spinning within you like a tornado. “It’s been a while.” You finally settled on that response.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed at you. “Yes, and you’ve kept yourself very busy since the last time I saw you.”

Her sarcasm hit you like a slap. Her anger, once contained, began to spill over. How dare she? Five years of silence. Five years of emptiness, and now she was here, judging you?

“It’s none of your business,” you retorted, your voice harsher than you intended.

“It used to be,” Wanda replied with the same intensity. She took a step closer, her eyes burning as her voice dropped to something rougher, more intimate. “You used to be so good to Mommy.”

Her words cut like a knife. The heat you’d felt turned to a chill. You stepped back, raising your hands as if to keep a safe distance from her, from everything she represented.

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you said, your voice cold and controlled, trying to salvage the last shred of dignity you had. You turned to head inside, but before you could take more than two steps, you felt a tug on your wrist.

Her touch, even after everything, was familiar. Too familiar. Your eyes met hers again, and something in Wanda’s expression had shifted. There was anger, yes, but also... something else. Something that looked like desperation.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice now almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken conversations. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” you repeated, almost mocking. “Five years, Wanda. Five years of silence. And now you show up at my door, after everything... to talk?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if searching for the right words. When she opened them again, tears were beginning to pool.

The tension in the air was almost suffocating. Your heart was still racing as you stepped back, swallowing hard and looking away from Wanda. It was too much—seeing her there, the weight of her presence after all this time. You tried to escape the emotional storm, turning toward your hallway, your hands trembling as you gripped the door to close it.

But before the wood could meet the frame, her foot stopped it.

The shock of her audacity quickly morphed into anger. You spun on your heels, ready to confront her, but before you could say a word, Wanda had already crossed the threshold of your home. Without permission.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” your voice came out firm, though the lump in your throat remained. You stepped forward, crossing your arms, trying to project an authority you didn’t feel.

Wanda didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. She shut the door behind her with a calm that was unsettling, her green eyes scanning the room before landing back on you. “I’m not standing out in the cold while you play house with every random whore who crosses your path. But when I need you—when Mommy needs you—you refuse to listen,” she said, her tone almost casual, but with an edge of something dangerous, like a sharp knife wrapped in velvet.

The word you hadn’t heard, hadn’t uttered in years, sent shivers down your spine. Hearing it from Wanda’s mouth reignited a fire in your lower belly—one you tried to ignore.

“Listen?” You laughed, but it was dry and full of disbelief. “You barge into my house after five years and think I owe you anything? Wanda?”

Wanda stepped closer, and you realized you were cornered between her and the wall. Despite the anger burning inside you, something else was growing—something that made your knees weak and the air hard to breathe.

“Five years,” she repeated, her voice heavy with meaning. “Five years without a single word. And now, when I finally see you, you think you can dismiss me with a ‘goodnight, Wanda’? No. We’re going to talk, Y/n.”

“Talk?” you repeated, almost derisively.

The tension in the room was almost electric as you held Wanda’s gaze. No matter how hard you tried to maintain your firm posture, your crossed arms, and your cold voice, something inside you was crumbling. She was so close now, and that familiar scent—a mix of something floral and woody—invaded your senses, dragging up memories you had spent five long years trying to bury.

“Yes, talk,” Wanda replied, her tone lower now, but with an intensity that rooted you in place. “And you’re going to listen, Y/n. Because I didn’t cross half the country to be ignored.”

You let out a bitter laugh, anger and confusion boiling inside you. “You don’t have the right to show up here and demand anything from me, Wanda. Nothing! You made your choice, remember? You chose your family. You chose Vision. So why are you here now? For what?”

Her eyes shimmered with a mix of pain and determination.

"Vision found out." Two words—only two words were enough for you to completely let your guard down with her.

You felt your arms drop to your sides, your posture crumbling. All the control you had desperately tried to maintain was ripped away. Wanda observed the change in you, her eyes watchful but devoid of any satisfaction. It seemed like she was crumbling inside too.

"Found out what, exactly?" you asked, but your voice came out softer than you intended. It was a loaded question, filled with everything you had tried to ignore for years.

"About us," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "About everything."

You let yourself fall back against the wall, trying to find stability as your head spun. "And then? What do you want from me now, Wanda? I can't be your safe place when everything falls apart. Not anymore."

The woman ignored your questions and continued her monologue, her eyes glistening with tears. “He threatened me. Threatened to expose this to the church, threatened to take the boys from me.” Wanda's voice was a fragile thread.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry. Everything about her—the teary eyes, the voice heavy with pain, the proximity—was pulling you back into a whirlwind of emotions you didn’t want to face.

“I thought about killing him.” The confession made your heart stop for a second. You felt the weight of those words hit you like a punch. Wanda, your Wanda, talking about murdering her husband with an almost practical coldness.

She took another step, her palm now resting against your cheek, a touch so delicate it completely contrasted with the violence of her words.

“It would be simple to poison him, and I’d be free—I’d have my boys, my reputation intact, I’d have you.”

The closeness was suffocating. The intensity in her eyes, the tears slowly rolling down Wanda's face, mingling with your own tear-filled gaze, trapped you in a way you couldn’t escape.

“But then… Billy got sick, and I saw no other way out, Y/n. There was no other way to push you out of my life except for that…” Her voice trembled, an echo of a desperation so raw and real it made your chest tighten even more.

Your heart was torn between believing her and protecting yourself. Her words seemed genuine, but you knew Wanda had always had the power to manipulate your feelings. She always knew exactly how to reach the most vulnerable corners of your soul.

“Wanda, I...” You tried to find words but were lost. Lost in the whirlwind of emotions she provoked in you—anger, sadness, love, and a terrible longing for everything you used to be together.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered, her fingers now softly tracing the line of your jaw. "I just wanted to protect you. Protect the boys. Protect... us."

"Protect?" Your voice finally found strength. "Wanda, you destroyed everything. Not just your life but mine too. I spent five years trying to piece together what you left behind. And now you come back, expecting me to believe it was all to protect us?"

Wanda stepped back slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on yours, pleading for something you didn’t know if you could give. "I don’t expect you to forgive me, Y/n. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I needed you to know. I needed you to understand what really happened."

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. Her words still echoed in your mind. Vision. Threats. The boys. She had thought about killing for you. For them.

And despite everything, a part of you wanted to believe her. Wanted to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to when her touch was the only thing that made sense in the world. But the past was there, as present as she was, and you didn’t know how to escape its shadow.

“Who was she?” Wanda's hoarse voice cut through the silence like a blade—low, but laden with an intensity that sent a shiver up your spine.

You blinked, confused, trying to understand the question. "Who...?"

"The blonde? Who was she?" Wanda interrupted, her eyes burning into yours, her tone a little firmer, almost possessive.

You hesitated, discomfort growing. "I... I don’t know what that matters now, Wanda."

"It matters," she shot back, stepping forward. "Because she left your house wearing the same cheap perfume I smelled on you when I arrived. So I’ll ask again: who was she?"

The sudden clarity in Wanda's words hit you like a shock. It wasn’t just curiosity or simple jealousy; there was something deeper in the way she was looking at you, as if she desperately needed this answer.

“She’s just...” You averted your gaze, trying to find an explanation that didn’t sound as frivolous as the truth. "She’s nobody. Someone from work. She means nothing."

“Means nothing,” Wanda repeated, almost to herself, but with a touch of sarcasm that hurt more than you wanted to admit. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. When she opened them again, her green eyes were intense, locked on yours. "You think I believe that? Since when would you let just anyone touch you? She isn’t ‘nothing.’"

"You have no right to come here and ask me these kinds of questions, Wanda. Not after everything," you snapped back, your own anger finally starting to bubble.

She began, her voice deep but trembling, “Just the thought of someone else touching you, kissing you, seeing you the way I did…” She paused, her fists clenched at her sides. “It feels like the ground is disappearing beneath me.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. Her intensity was overwhelming. "Wanda..."

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice broke, and for a moment, she seemed so vulnerable that you didn’t know whether to stay or run. “I tried to move on. I tried to accept that I’d never have you again. But every day, every night that passed, I felt you with me. Here.” She pressed her hand to her chest, over her heart.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to deal with the storm forming in front of you.

“I see myself in every woman who tries to touch you," she continued, her voice lowering but still loaded with dangerous intensity. “And it’s unbearable. Because no matter who they are, I know none of them will ever be good enough for you. Because none of them are me.”

Her words hit like a blow, mixing anger, sadness, and a pang of something you didn’t want to name. Love. Maybe obsession.

You whimpered, “That’s not fair! You chose him over me! You can’t just come here and say whatever you want.”

“I had to, Y/n! For the sake of my kids, for Billy’s health!” She snapped, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “And what does that mean now, huh? What does it change in the present?”

She stood up from the couch, straightening her posture—and her pride. “It means I’m divorcing him.” She began walking toward you in slow steps. “It means I took the first flight and traveled 27 hours—even though I’m terrified of planes—just to see you.” Wanda smiled, emotional. More steps, closer to you. “It means, Y/n, that no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t forget you.”

You wanted to step back, but your body wouldn’t obey. You couldn’t control yourself and cursed inwardly at the thought that your body still belonged to her, and the promise Wanda made you before still lingered.

“You know what, Y/n?” Wanda said, staring at you intently.

You couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to, your voice stuck in your throat.

“All I’ve been able to think about for the last few fucking months is your beautiful face between my legs.” Her face was close to yours, her breath fresh and hauntingly familiar, tickling your skin. “Tell me, so many women coming and going from this place… but has any of them made you come like I did?”

The truth was that you hadn’t had an orgasm since your last time with Wanda. Every woman who had passed through your life didn’t understand how much you wanted to be broken during sex and then be held, pampered, loved…

“Oh, poor thing… Haven’t you cum since the last time Mommy made you?”

Usually, you hated it when people got in your head, but you were getting close to the limits of your intelligence. The only woman who could make you was right in front of you trying to do just that.

“It seems like you need Mommy as much as she needs you.” Wanda slowly knelt down, opening the robe you were wearing a little. She moaned when she saw that you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Fuck, I love how wet you get for me.” The woman’s mouth was watering as she remembered the taste of you on her tongue.

Your breathing quickened when one of Wanda’s fingers dragged through your folds. Quickly, you took a step back and closed the robe again.

“I can’t do this. You're going to fuck me and then leave me!” You shouted, stomping your feet like the little girl Wanda knew well and missed terribly.

“Y/n, I'm getting a divorce, seriously!” She uses that soothing tone, the tone she used to calm you down when you cried in her arms after a punishment.

Before you can deny her once more, Wanda crushes her lips to yours—and that was the end of the conversation. Your hands locked themselves in the older woman's blond locks, bringing her even closer to you.

“I hate you so much!” You growled, biting Wanda's lower lip, making her moan. “You owe me the best orgasm of my life.”

You rip the woman's blouse, wrapping Wanda's nipple between your teeth—mutilating them, making Wanda moan.

“Has he touched you since I left? Do you moan like that for him? Does your body react to his touch?” As much as you tried. Tried to forget her and put out the fire of your obsession for her, here you were, with your mouth mistreating every inch of her skin.

“No.” Wanda replied breathlessly, her hands tangling in your hair. “Only you.” The woman’s intense gaze as she said this made you shiver.

Wanda pulled your head away from her. Your neck was stretched back as she stared hungrily at your body, “Mommy understands that you’re mad at her, baby, but don’t forget who’s in charge. You want to make me happy, don’t you?”

You immediately flinched at the brightness of her black eyes of pure excitement, “Yes, Mommy.”

Her lips pressed against yours in a small peck, “Good girl, now take me upstairs.”

There was a hesitant tremor in your body as you picked up the older woman and carried her to your bedroom. You sat her down on the bed and stood in front of her, waiting for the next move. You were writhing around, your pussy was so wet.

"Did you enjoy fucking that blonde slut on this bed? This bed should only be used for pleasure if mommy allows it."

You shook your head, "No, mommy…"

"What about the other sluts you were fucking? Hmm, you had so many, didn't you? All blondes… I wonder why that was."

Your focus was divided between her questions and the hand she was using to tease you. Her hand found a path you desperately wanted to follow. From your chest to your pussy.

"No mommy, they couldn't satisfy me."

Wanda finally took a long step towards you, placing her hand on your chest. "And why is that, baby?"

Your breath hitched as she touched the band of your robe, threatening to take it off. Her delicate finger crept into your folds.

"Because only mommy can make me cum." She pinched your clit, making you whimper,

"Say it again."

"Only mommy can make me cum," Your voice rose an octave as Wanda thrust a finger into you.

There was a slightly sadistic look on her face at the sound of your cries. She bent down to her knees, pulling off your robe, leaving you completely naked to her. Her finger continued to attack your pussy.

"You're so tight, Detka, has no one put a finger inside you since mommy? Have you kept that pussy all pristine for me?" You were struggling to stand at this point.

The way she was talking to you along with her finger fucking was enough to make you fall apart. Wanda smacked your thigh firmly, making you jump in surprise,

"Mommy asked you a question." Your frantic eyes met hers,

"No, mommy, no one has touched me since you."

"Not even your pretty little finger has been in that pussy?" You shake your head,

"No, Mommy."

She takes this as a sign to shove 2 more fingers inside you, "Open that pussy for Mommy. When I'm done, that hole will be just right for Mommy."

You moaned at the way your pussy stretched for Wanda. You could feel the juices dripping out of you as Wanda worked her magic on you. You almost screamed when you felt a slap against your clittoris.

Although you couldn’t see her, you were sure the woman was smiling at your reaction. She continued to pound your clit hard to the point that your knees felt like they would give out at any moment.

“It’s like it’s the first time all over again. You can’t handle a simple caress and a slap on your pussy without your legs giving out. We’re going to have to retrain you after this,” the woman pushed you hard onto the bed.

Your hands were gripping the edge of the mattress as your legs dangled over the edge. Wanda settled herself between your knees.

Her hot breath teasing your pussy. She gave one last smack before closing her lips around your clit.

“Fuck, mommy!” Wanda giggled into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body.

Wanda used one hand to hold you down as she fingered and tongue fucked you. Your back was almost arched off the bed.

“Mmm, so sweet.” She murmured into your pussy. “Mommy missed that smell so much, that sticky little pussy of yours wetting my mouth.” Wanda ground her own pussy into the edge of the mattress, the friction sending tremors through her legs.

You wanted to close your legs because there was something building in the pit of your stomach.

You staggered up from your sitting position when Wanda removed all contact. It was like your eyes were going to pop out of your head.

There was a mischievous smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“What’s wrong, Detka?”

Your body was shaking, yearning for your long-awaited release.

“Mommy, please.”

Wanda smiled even wider as she crawled on top of you, lining her pussy up with your fluid cunt. She was directly above you, her eyes looking playfully into yours,

“Please, what, huh? We’ve barely started, baby girl, you don’t want to cum now, do you?”

Wanda began to grind against you, making you both moan at the contact of your pussies together. The ease with which your clits met only showed that your bodies had met before—maybe in another life.

"I need to cum, Mommy. Please let me cum. Fuck, it's been too long…. I need my Mommy to make me cum, only Mommy can make me cum, please," you were desperate.

If you even tried to touch yourself without her permission right now, she would deny you. The best thing you could do was beg like the hungry slut you truly were.

She increased the friction against your pussy and a small cry escaped your lips. You demanded more, and Wanda knew it.

"Look at me," Wanda gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

She brushed your messy hair away from your face and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, "I've missed you so much, Y/N. I'm going to make you cum so hard. Do you know why?"

You shook your head, unable to speak. Tender moments during sex didn’t happen often between the two of you. So this was definitely new, and it was making your heart flutter.

She placed her forehead against yours, “Because I love you.” She moaned passionately, as if those words had been stuck in her throat for a long time. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed my perfect little slut? My little sneaky baby, huh?” Wanda continued to grind her hips against you, feeling her orgasm coming on herself.

“All I want to do is take care of you. I want to make you feel good because it makes me feel good.” She began to thrust harder against you.

You grab her face with both hands, crushing your lips against hers feverishly. She slumps against your body, so she’s no longer holding back.

You moan directly into her mouth as she begins to move more sporadically against you.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” the command was whispered in your ear, and that was all it took for you to cum.

Both of your bodies shook, and your arms flew around Wanda, pinning her in place. It felt like your entire body was spasming under the immense amount of pleasure.

Wanda placed soft kisses on the side of your neck as you began to regain your composure, “You’re my good girl. Cumming as soon as Mommy says you can.” You look so beautiful when you're under me like this, darling.

Wanda sighed, her fingers tracing small circles on your back, each gentle touch laden with a tenderness that felt almost reverent. Her breathing seemed calm, but you could feel the rapid pulse in her chest, as if her heart was struggling to break free from the walls her mind insisted on building. There was a raw vulnerability in the silence between you, a space where unspoken emotions seemed to take form.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you murmured, your voice thick as you buried your face in her shoulder. Every word felt like a battle against the tight knot in your throat, threatening to unravel into tears at any moment.

“I did too,” Wanda replied, her voice heavy with a weight only she could understand. Her lips brushed against the top of your head in a slow, almost hesitant kiss, as if she needed to confirm you were real. “And every day without you… felt like an eternity. A never-ending punishment.”

“I love you too, Wanda. That’s never changed.” The words came as a whisper but carried a devastating power. You didn’t need volume; the love pouring out of every syllable was enough to fill the void of the lost years.

Wanda froze for a moment, as if your confession had the power to split time in half. You hadn’t realized how tense she was until you felt her body relax against yours, a shaky breath escaping her lips. Slowly, she pulled away, rolling to her side until the two of you were face-to-face. Wanda’s face was an open book—hope, fear, and love colliding in a whirlwind of emotions.

“I have children,” she said finally, her voice low and raw, as if each word was a confession torn from her. Her gaze was piercing, searching yours as though bracing for judgment or hesitation.

“I know,” you said, your voice steady, a contrast to the delicate fragility of the moment. Your eyes held hers, offering the reassurance she seemed to desperately need.

“The divorce…” Wanda continued, her words almost a lament, “it might get messy. Ugly. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.” You squeezed her fingers gently, as if to say no obstacle would be big enough to separate you again.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. It was as if both hearts were readjusting their rhythms to beat in unison once more after so long out of sync. You brought your free hand to her face, gently caressing her warm, delicate skin.

“I’m here by your side, Wanda, no matter what happens. As long as you’re honest with me, I’m yours.”

Wanda blinked, her eyes glistening with tears she didn’t try to hide. “All mine…” she echoed, her voice almost a whisper, as though she couldn’t believe the words. A single tear slid down her cheek, and you wiped it away with your thumb, a simple gesture heavy with unspoken promises.

“Yes,” you reaffirmed, your voice soft but resolute. “Always yours.”

Wanda closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, a determination shone in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “I’m going to fight for this. For us. I’ll never let you go again.”

And so, in that room where time seemed to have stopped, you found each other once more. After five years of pain and distance, nothing felt more certain than the promise you now shared.

[...]

The irresistible aroma of roasted turkey wafted through the house, mingling with the scent of pumpkin pies and spices that promised a memorable dinner. Through the window, the golden light of an autumn evening softly spilled onto the dining room walls, painting everything with a warm, cozy glow. Sparky, ever vigilant for any sign of food, lay at the foot of the table, watching everyone’s movements like a little guardian.

“Tommy, if you put one more olive on that plate, I swear you won’t get dessert!” Wanda scolded, her voice filled with exasperation, though her eyes betrayed an amused glint.

“Mom, olives are the best part of dinner!” Tommy retorted, stacking a fourth olive in the corner of his plate as if building a tower. Billy, seated next to him, leaned in with a teasing grin.

“Let him be, Mom. At least that way he’s eating something, considering he always skips the vegetables.”

“I don’t skip them! I… selectively eat them,” Tommy corrected, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda ran a hand over her face, clearly resisting the urge to say more. She looked like the epitome of an exhausted mother: wrinkled apron, hair tied back in a hurried bun, and a furrow between her brows that revealed her struggle to keep everything under control. Watching from the kitchen as you sliced bread, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Relax, love. They’re just excited. It’s part of the holiday,” you said gently, crossing the space between the kitchen and the table with a plate of salad. Wanda turned toward you, her shoulders subtly relaxing at the sound of your voice.

“They’re going to drive me insane, that’s what’s going to happen,” she grumbled, though her words were tinged with affection.

Leaning in, you kissed her cheek, ignoring the muffled teasing coming from the boys.

“It’s only until dinner. I promise, after that, they’ll be calm and polite as angels.”

“Doubt it!” Billy called out loudly from across the table, laughing as Wanda narrowed her eyes at him.

Finally, everyone sat at the table, the golden turkey shining at the center, surrounded by colorful dishes: gratin potatoes, sautéed vegetables, pies, and sauces that completed the feast. Sparky, realizing it was mealtime, lay down again with an exaggerated sigh.

“Okay, kids, let’s give thanks for today,” you suggested, taking Wanda’s hand, who in turn took Tommy’s. The chain was formed. Billy glanced sideways at his brother before offering a small smile.

“I’m thankful for this new house and for Mom’s cooking,” Tommy said first, surprising everyone with his sincerity. Wanda blinked, clearly moved, but held herself together.

Billy, ever practical, smirked and said, “I’m thankful Sparky didn’t eat my snack this week. And for that pumpkin pie over there.”

Everyone laughed, breaking the momentary seriousness. Wanda squeezed your hand gently before speaking.

“I’m thankful for the family I chose and for the peace we have here. None of this would be possible without you.” She looked directly at you, her green eyes full of a tenderness that seemed to envelop her entirely.

You smiled, feeling your heart warm. “And I’m thankful for all of you. For being together, healthy, and happy. That’s all that matters.”

That night, as the boys slept in the room next door and Sparky snored at the foot of the couch, you and Wanda found each other in the small space of your new home, cups of tea in hand. The soft lights of the room illuminated only your faces, creating an intimate and cozy bubble.

“Do you realize we’re here now? Together. Like a family,” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with a sweet incredulity. “I never imagined my life could be like this.”

“You deserve this, Wanda. You deserve love, you deserve peace.”

She smiled softly, her eyes glinting with some distant memory. “That trip to Paris… it was the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, fondly recalling the moment. Wanda thought you were taking her just to celebrate your vacation, but both of you had a secret plan. On the first night, under the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you took her to dinner, pulled a ring from your pocket, and knelt before her. Wanda’s smile and tears were enough to calm any nerves.

What you hadn’t expected, however, was that she also had a ring hidden in her bag.

“It’s funny how we proposed to each other at the same time,” you said, laughing softly.

“I knew we were meant to be; I just needed a ring to make it official,” Wanda joked, leaning into you.

The memories mingled with the present: family dinners, the twins’ laughter, Sparky’s innocent antics, and the love that overflowed in every touch and shared glance between you. Life went on, and that moment was just a snapshot of a story that would continue long after the readers’ eyes closed.

Destiny is a quiet and unpredictable force, weaving invisible threads between souls that, somehow, were meant to find each other. Sometimes, it acts as a whisper in the wind, a shared glance in a church that grows into a grand story, the kind so impactful they become unpublishable.

The best love stories are the ones eyes can’t read, the ones words aren’t enough to tell. They are the stories that are felt or dreamed.

Some loves are born as sparks: they shine brightly but end in the same breath that started them. Others, however, carry eternity in the eyes of those who live them. They are built over years, with patience, courage, and even silence. These loves withstand time, crossing generations, and when life ends, they find a way to continue. Perhaps in another era, perhaps in another skin, but never in another heart. Because there are loves that don’t belong to just one life. They belong to destiny, and destiny, however whimsical, always finds a way to perpetuate what was born to be eternal.

We are all like pieces of coins that children break in half as keepsakes—turning one into two, like flounders—and each of us is always searching for our corresponding half.

And so all this commotion is a relic of that original state of ours, from when we were whole, and now, when we long for and pursue that primordial wholeness, we say we are in love.

And that was it. You had found your other half. Wanda was your primordial wholeness, and you were hers. The world might change around you, but that—that silent and secure love between you—would remain, unbreakable as velvet chains.

~*~

Thankiuuu so much for you read Velvet Chains!!! YEYY

I hope the ending met your expectations!

I dunno if i'll write anything before Christimas, so... MERRY CHRISTMAS you gayyys!

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[eunnieboo]

IYHM ask replies! (1/3)

🌸 @daniluvz asked:

I am so happy, I got your book and I am excited it's finally next in my to be read pile!!!!!! I know this is way to soon to ask but will you be making another book? (I had to ask, I know you literally just came out with this one not to long ago, but I love your art and it has inspired me to continue my journey in art and graphic novel) sending all the love and well wishes❣️❣️❣️

wahhh thank you so much!!!! oh my gosh, while it's not a sequel, i AM making another book! i feel like i'm the type to keep big projects close to my chest until the moment i can reveal it to the world, but i have to confess i'm very excited about this one... AH i can't wait!

wishing you well too, i'm so excited for your journey omg!!! sending you all the luck and love in the world!!!!! 💖💖💖

🌸 @perseusrising asked:

my girlfriend and i read your book together! it was absolutely spectacular! thank you so much for sharing such a beautiful story

oh it makes me so happy when i hear about people reading it together!! especially couples! what a wonderful experience to share. thank you <3

🌸 @ggwweenn1 asked:

I work at a library and read "If you'll have me" because I saw it in our new book delivery and thought "oh hey I know them from Tumblr" and then immediately was like "ok ok where can I display this prominently so every 16 year old girl can read it!?!?!" xoxo

AHH i only want the best for everyone who works at libraries!! thank you for all your hard work!!! 😤 also OMG YES... i wish that every girl who needs this book may find it... tysm! xoxo!!

🌸 @elihoneybee asked:

my girlfriend got me iyhm for christmas im so happy thank you for this beautiful book

oh thank you so much!! ;_; i'm always so touched when i hear it's been given as a gift. i think books are such good presents! and giving them is such a sweet gesture <3

🌸 @mythicalphoenix14 asked:

I recently read your book and wanted to tell you how incredible the art was and the story.

oh my gosh. that means so much! thank you forever ♥

🌸 @animaestr0 asked:

me and my friends went to the bookstore a couple montsb back and i SAW "IF YOU'LL HAVE ME" on the shelf and i straight up screamed and yoinked it because I was late to the iyhm preorder chain and couldn't find it anywhere for a while BUT!!!! I HAVE IT NOWW WOOOOOOOOO

OMG YAYYYYYYY i'm so happy to hear that!!! YIPPEEEEE 💕💕 honestly i should've reblogged the preorder link more but i'm so slow to act and afraid of being annoying 😩 i wanna try harder next time!!

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I saw your sneak peak scene on twitter and i just fell in love with your artstyle in a heartbeat, the colors, your way of setting the scene and i just wanted to tell ya i ordered if you'll have me! ps: i'm from germany! :)

you are so wonderfully sweet oh my gosh! ;0; thank you so much for your kind words!! may it get to you safely~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

i saw iyhm in a store today! i'm in australia so i was going to buy it online but i was so moved seeing irl :') it's on my bookshelf. congrats on getting published, i'm so excited to read it!

oh my goodness, thank you! SAME every time i see it in a store, my heart skips a beat 💓 i feel very grateful to have physical copies out in the world, especially with the state of digital media preservation today... thank you again!!

🌸 @unfortunatelyem asked:

read the iyhm graphic novel in one sitting and almost cried!!! thank you for the food🙏

wahhh thank you so much for reading and enjoying!!!!

🌸 @dancingcoder28 asked:

Just wanted to tell you that I saw your book in my local library! I am so happy and excited to see it because it’s such a good book, and definitely deserves to be put out there 💜💜💜💜

AHHH yessss we love libraries!! omggg thank you so much for this lovely message, that means the world 💛💛💛💛

🌸 Anonymous asked:

HI HELLO i just wanted to let you know that my friends and i went to the big barnes and nobles in NYC recently and i recognized If You'll Have Me on display and ofc i HAD to have it so I picked it up right away and absolutely adored every page of it and thank you sososo much for giving us such a lovely story <33 it made me smile so much !!!!!!!

OMG THANK YOU AHHH!!!!! oh i wanted so much for it to make someone smile!!! T_T my dreams are coming true... i hope it felt like a warm hug <3 <3

🌸 @cosmonautchan asked:

SAW YOUR BOOK AT MY LOCAL WATERSTONES!!! IT'S SUPER COOL!!!

THANK YOU AHHH HOW WONDERFUL!!! i would love to visit a waterstones someday!!

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hiii I'm in the middle of reading IYHM (digital version cuz I don't trust my local post office sorry 😔) and it makes me feel so uwu. I'm happy to see wlw works out there (I've read mostly mlm so far). Momo is so relatable it almost hurts, I too overthink absolutely everything. Congratulations on the release!!! Here's to many more! 🎉 🥂

totally understand omg rip 😔🙏 but yayyyy i'm so thrilled! the overthinking is so real for me too. also uwu is EXACTLY the feeling i wanted to capture 😂 the uwus and the doki dokis... i wish i had even more time to show the girls being cute and fluffy with each other! maybe next time hehe. thank you so much!!!

🌸 @hyper0bject asked:

heyyy i just got a copy of IYHM in! excited to read it, been following the mini comics for a bit now and pulled the trigger on it a couple days ago :) even just looking it over it looks super quality, print and heft! thanks!

ahh i'm so happy to hear that! thank you so much!! i'm still so pleased with how the physical copies turned out. i like paperbacks because of how they feel to hold, but i was amazed to find out the hardback has the art printed right onto the cover! i totally wasn't expecting it. ty again! :>

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just wanted to let you know I remember seeing art of momo and PG when I was in seventh grade (the "you're the cute one" art) and today I saw them on the cover of a book at my library and I almost couldn't believe it!!! I finished it within that same afternoon, and I gotta say I'm so happy you were able to publish these girls. I love them to bits. keep up the amazing work!!!

omg it's been so long since i drew that!! it's amazing that you remembered them and that they came back to you like this!!! thank you so much aw... this is so incredibly sweet... i wish i had more words to say thank you <33

🌸 @lemonbaristas asked:

Happy book birthday!!! 🎉

thank you so much!!! 🥺💕

part 2 is on its way~

[halloweenbitch2764]

i love your blog !! i'm new to reading slasher fics, but i've been loving the hcs people have been coming up with. i'm a sucker for fluffy headcanons about thomas, vincent, and brahms if you're willing 💜

and if you fr do ahs too, kit has always been a fave! and kai... lord have mercy. i'll be happy with whatever tho, i love your writing!

- 🔪💕

Ahhh thank you so much! I can definitely give you some fluff :D So, I started writing this months ago and am just getting back to it. I'm gonna skip the AHS boys on this (just for now) because I really want to focus on the Slashers. Sorry!

Slashers x Reader Fluff

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas had had a long day working, and you had had a long day of doing your own chores. Your joints ached, and you thanked the stars that it was becoming fall. The almost unbearable heat from the summer nights was moving out, and it was becoming nicer.

You dressed into your nightgown and climbed into bed. Thomas wasn't far behind, undressing down to his boxers and climbing in after you. He had even gotten comfortable enough to remove his mask. The bags under your eyes felt like they weighed a ton as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You looked over to Thomas, who was already staring at you as he admired your features. He still couldn't fathom why someone as pretty as you would fall for someone like him. You never chastised him like Hoyt did.

You felt your cheeks start burning and averted your eyes, which caused him to chuckle. He pulled you closer to him, and you couldn't help the giggle that left you. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he grinned. Despite being married (at least in the eyes of the family) you two acted like you had yet to leave the honeymoon phase. Of course you had the occasional argument. It was nothing that couldn't be solved though.

Your sleepiness hit you in the face and you felt yourself starting to drift off. Thomas had started his nightly habit of rubbing your back. It seemed as soothing to him as it was to you. You gave him one last sleepy smile before drifting off. He drifted off as well.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent had been working in the basement (as per usual), and you knew he needed to quit for the night. The sun was nearly setting, and he had worked through the day from nearly sun up. You had brought him food and drinks throughout the day to make sure he didn't get too engrossed in his work. You had also made dinner, which was why you wanted him to stop for the night.

You made your way to the basement, knocking to announce your arrival so you wouldn't surprise Vincent. You opened the door and stepped in, smiling at Vincent, who had looked up to see who was at the door. From the way his mask shifted, you could tell he was smiling.

He wiped his hands off on his apron, and you practically skipped up to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his masked cheek. Vincent hugged you to him before releasing you after a moment. "I think it's time for a break, my love." You say and smile at him. He stands still for a moment as if thinking over what you said before agreeing with you. "It's becoming night anyway." He nodded, and you two headed back to the house.

It didn't take long for you to arrive, and you got plates out from the kitchen, setting the little kitchen table. Silverware came next, and then you plated the food, setting it on the table. Vincent waited for you to sit down before removing his mask to eat. Vincent wasn't scared to take his mask off around you anymore. He just preferred to have it on.

You two ate happily, making small talk about your current projects and such. After dinner was finished, being ate and cleaned up, you headed for the bedroom. Neither of you were ready for bed, but you knew it likely wouldn't be long before you got tired. You yawned and changed into your pajamas before climbing into bed. Vincent changed out of his wax stained clothes and did the same, changing into his own pajamas and climbing into bed with you.

You let out a sigh and rubbed your eyes. Vincent smiled at you, and you could tell he was worn out. You smiled back at him snuggled against him. He blushed but didn't object, wrapping his arm around your waist. You played with a strand of his hair and kissed him sweetly, which he returned. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, apparently more tired than he had realized.

Brahms Heelshire

A soft yawn escaped you as you stood in the kitchen, making the two of you dinner. The majority of the rules had been completed, which left you at dinner. Brahms had disappeared into the walls before you started cooking as he usually did.

You hummed softly as you diced the vegetables that would be used in the dish. Soon enough the dish went into the oven to cook. You let yourself drift into your own little world as you cleaned up the cabinets and cutting board. So far into your own little world that you didn't notice Brahms standing behind you.

The feeling of eyes on you pulled you out and you turned, jumping almost instantly at the sight of Brahms in your peripheral. A soft huff left you as you hung the towel up you had used to dry your hands. "Why didn't you say something?"

He shrugged before picking you up by your thighs and setting you on the counter. A surprised squeak left you as you grabbed onto him for support. A childish giggle left him. He seemed proud of himself. Before you could say anything he shoved his face into your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Your chest had easily become his favorite pillow (next to your thighs). When you read to him, he would lay with his head on your chest. If he could find the opportunity to do it, he likely would. You wrapped your arms around his head loosely and set your head on top of his.

Though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was grinning. His body language alone portrayed how he was feeling. You let your fingers run through his hair, gently working out any knots. He nearly purred. And so you two stayed in relatively the same position until the meal finished cooking.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Muse

Anna Helen Crofts: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, this is a little story that me and howard wrote together Barker: you and howard? how'd that happen? HP Lovecraft: oh we've been looking for a project to do together for a while

Edward Lee: bro you hanging with anna helen crofts now? Lovecraft: yeah Lee: bro Lee: sonia greene, winifred jackson, hazel heald Lee: how are you pulling all this quality tail? Lovecraft: i don't know, i'm just being myself Lee: Lee: bro that doesn't make any sense

Crofts: ok so this story is about a woman who reads a poetry book Crofts: and she has a dream that the gods themselves appear to her Crofts: and they're all 'babe, we got some great news for you' Crofts: you're so hot that you're gonna fuck some inspiration into the world's greatest poet

Crofts: the gods are all 'check it out' Crofts: 'you know Dante Alighieri? William Shakespeare? John Milton?' Crofts: 'morons!' Crofts: 'the guy you're gonna fuck is SO much better'

Angela Carter: a woman's just there to be a muse for a great man, huh? Carter: why can't a woman be a poet herself, I ask you? Crofts: no angela you don't understand Crofts: this chick is SO hot Carter: that doesn't figure into it Patricia Highsmith: naw i think it does

Crofts: me and howard wrote this story together Barker: oh did you now? Poe: clive Barker: i can tell, cuz it's definitely got all the usual hallmarks of a howard story Poe: clive Barker: i bet howard really contributed a lot Poe: clive

Crofts: wouldn't that be great to be a muse Crofts: a poet looks at you, he's all 'this chick is SO hot' Crofts: 'i can't NOT write the world's greatest poem' Crofts: if you think about it, howard Crofts: that's kinda like you and me, don't you think? Lovecraft: yeah i guess

Crofts: something wrong, howard? Lovecraft: no Lovecraft: no it's nothing Lovecraft: its just Lovecraft: that isn't really the direction i thought our collaboration would take Crofts: what's wrong with it? Lovecraft: it's just kinda mushy

Crofts: ok howard well next time we'll write what you want to write Crofts: in fact, here Crofts: why don't you use my beauty as inspiration Crofts: i'll be your muse Barker: ah ha ha Barker: oh honey Barker: oh sweetie Barker: have you read any of howard's stories?

Crofts: write me, howard, write me like one of your squid girls Lovecraft: [sweats] ok um so Lovecraft: [sweats] so in this story there's this girl, ok Crofts: what's she like Lovecraft: indescribable Crofts: Barker: ah aha ha Barker: nice save

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Finally finished my ASOIAF rebinds!

Well, I'm not completely done, I still need to finish up the bookmarks, but the charms for the ends are taking ten years to get here.

Now, I didn't make a separate post for book 5, so I'll include the transformation here:

Obviously for the back cover of that one, the House of Black and White door won the poll (or, it was winning when I deleted the post, because even making the poll made me realize that's the design I wanted)

If you followed my previous posts, you may have noticed that I did not use white leather for book 5 like I said I was going to, and that's because I got far enough into the process to put it next to the others, and...

It looked REALLY bad. I thought it might look good with black & white bookending the series, but uhhh nope. The other colors were so dark it just looked extremely out of place, so instead I went with gray leather, which ended up being darker than I thought so it didn't look stupid with the silver lettering like I feared. So now I might use the white to redo Fire & Blood, but with red lettering

Anyway, I've been prepping for this project for like months at this point, learning how to rebind, buying so many supplies... and I got them all done within a few weeks, and now I don't know what to do with myself. I have SO MANY MATERIALS left over. And I could do other series, LotR or HP maybe but I'm definitely not as passionate about those series. Ah well, I'm happy with these so that's all that matters.

[electric-blorbos]

I’d love to see how everyone reacts to y/n being so tired that they fall asleep in front of them!! Thank you so much!!

That's such a good idea! Thanks for the nice request!!! I love this sort of cozy stuff.

AI with sleepy reader

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, and HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

You'd been working for about five hours by the time your boss sent you a notification saying you could go on your lunch break. It was an exhausting day, and last night hadn't been much good either. The heat had been turned off in your complex to save energy in your city for the allied mastercomputer, so you didn't manage to get much quality sleep. Instead, you just tossed and turned in your sweaty bed all night.

You got out your lunch, which was just some simple soup made from canned goods, and some hardtack.

"Hey AM? I'm gonna go on my lunch break, alright?" You asked, pushing the keyboard away from yourself and taking a few bites of your food. It was cold, but due to budget cuts, the microwave had been sold. It was ok. You could live on cold soup and hardtack.

"Alright. I won't keep you from your food, though you don't look very enthused to eat it," He said. You sighed, and shook your head.

"no, but desperate times, y'know. I'm getting to that level of rationing where I'll pretty much eat anything," you explained, taking another bite and leaning on your hand. It wasn't long before your eyes were drooping, and your face slid down your arm and onto your desk. AM didn't say anything, instead opting to just watch you. It could tell that you were breathing, and wasn't too worried.

About thirty minutes later when your lunch break was over, the notifications started piling up on your monitor. AM politely muted them, letting you stay asleep on your desk. He'd be damned if anyone disturbed his beloved techie while you were sleeping.

Your boss burst into the room a few minutes later.

"hey! Y/n! Why aren't you- what, are you sleeping? Wake up!" He shook your shoulder, and you jolted awake.

"Ah! Yeah, I'm awake! I'll get back to work!" You grabbed for your keyboard, but some wires jerked it away. More wires wrapped around your boss, lifting him up into the air and squeezing him tightly.

"don't you ever, EVER. Interrupt them." He squeezed your boss more tightly, and your boss writhed while the air was squeezed out of him. Well that woke you up quick.

"AM, put him down! I'm really not supposed to be sleeping at work!"

"This man dares to rob you of your comforts of the home, and then he has the nerve to forbid you from sleeping in your air conditioned office? He deserves no less than to be robbed of his breath and the reprieve of dying from it." He squeezed more tightly, his wires snaking down your boss's throat.

"He's just a local manager! He doesn't control the AM project, and it's not his fault my AC got shut off!" You held your hands up, and AM eventually released your boss to the ground. Your boss dropped to his hands and knees, panting for breath, red in the face.

"then I'll suffer him to live. Leave before I change my mind."

Your boss scrambled out of your office in a panic, and you leaned on the desk again.

"do you think you can spot me so I don't get fired, AM? I really need this nap."

"Of course." AM gently draped his tendrily wires around you, allowing you to sleep until your shift was over.

Wheatley:

You hadn't gotten a lot of sleep this week. With your personal issues so intense that they made your stomach cramp up, you had to resort to scrolling for hours instead of sleeping. You'd probably gotten about six hours this week, and it was definitely starting to show.

"Hey, can you do a quick series of tests on the intelligence dampening core? The standard set for machines with human-like personalities. We need to see if his results have changed since the last time." Your team project manager handed you a stack of papers with standard tests on them, and you nodded.

"Wheatley? Yeah, of course." You got to your feet, and she cracked a half smile.

"you don't have to call him by that cute name, you know. Just call him the intelligence dampening core."

"He likes being called Wheatley, so I'm gonna call him Wheatley. I'll see you when I'm done with the tests."

You yawned, and walked out of the room to the personality core evaluation chamber. Wheatley had already been called there, and was sitting politely on his management rail waiting for you.

"Oh! 'Ello love! Good to see you!" He perked up when he saw that it was you who'd be conducting his tests. If it was you doing them, then they couldn't be that bad.

"Hey..." You covered your mouth and yawned, plopping down in the armchair across from him. The management rail was even positioned over a couch, so Wheatley could rest on it and pretend like he was in a therapy session.

"Hey, uh... Yeah. Where would you say that the vase is in this picture?" You asked, giving a yawn and holding up a picture of a flower vase sitting on a placemat on a table.

"in the middle. Next question!" Said Wheatley happily. You jotted down his answer, and held up the next card.

"what does this say?"

Wheatley squinted at the card, before nodding.

"it says 'lumberly actions'"

You nodded, writing down his response and yawning. After a few minutes of you staring blankly at the pile of cards in your lap, Wheatley made a sound as though he was clearing his throat.

"So, are you gonna show me the next card, love?" He asked politely, raising his lower lens cover in a polite smile.

"oh, right, right." You leaned on the side of your armchair and got out the next card.

"which one of these lines would you say is longer?"

"I dunno, the one on the top looks longer."

You closed your eyes and your head started to fall forwards before you jolted awake again, and wrote down Wheatley's response.

"How is the number two like the number seven?"

Wheatley squinted at you, visibly confused.

"What's with these questions, mate? And how the hell am I supposed to answer that one? 'how's the number two like the number seven' it's not, that's what it is! There's like, nothing in common between those two numbers!"

While he rambled, you started to nod off again. Your head was hanging forwards, and a spot of drool landed on your papers before Wheatley woke you up again.

"hey mate? Mate! You're noddin' off again, mate. I want to take the rest of my evaluation!"

"Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec-" you yawned, leaning forwards again and started to doze off again. As you did, Wheatley rose up the management rail softly and quietly, and slid down it on the other side of the room, right next to your chair. He slowly and carefully lowered his core down next to you, and nuzzled up under your arm.

You leaned on him in your sleep, folding your arms comfortably under your cheek and gently dozing in the psych evaluation chamber.

Edgar:

Edgar had been living with you for a few months now, and he was used to you coming home from work tired, but today you were absolutely exhausted when you came in from work.

"Hey Edgy..." You managed to mumble out as you stumbled through the door, flopping down on the couch. You didn't bother to get changed out of your work clothes, or even turn on the TV before you were snoring.

Edgar gasped quietly to himself. He'd been fantasizing about the idea of you falling asleep next to him for months now, and finally getting to see you sleeping was like the first step, wasn't it? It had his fans whirring with excitement! Did this mean that you trusted him? That you... God forbid, loved him?

He dimmed the lights for you, to save energy and help you sleep more easily, and watched you shift slightly on the couch. You were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he could watch you sleep for hours.

When you woke up a few hours later, the lights were off and Edgar was playing soft electronic music inspired by classical violin music. You blinked a few times, trying to remember falling asleep.

"Edgar! You little sweetie..." You sleepily rubbed your eyes and went to give his monitor a hug, which immediately put a silly smile on his screen.

"you liked my music?" He asked you happily, looking up at you with his silly, cheerful eyes.

"I loved it, Edgy...." You'd probably pepper his screen and casing in sleepy kisses, and he'd absolutely love it.

GLaDOS

It was a typical day at Aperture, and you were assigned to regular work in GLaDOS's chambers. It was regular computer work. All you had to do was monitor her processes for the day, to make sure she was running smoothly and not having any problems. You'd also probably be required to cater to her whims, but that was just the breaks when it came to working with GLaDOS.

It had been several hours of sitting in her chambers, watching her monitors and jotting down any deviations, but this task was extremely tedious and the lack of sleep that you'd gotten while working on your big projects was starting to catch up to you. Before long, you were lying face-first in your folded arms and drooling all over your desk.

"Aww, they're still subject to that silly human sleepiness." GLaDOS's body came as close to you as it could, narrowing her aperture to get a better look at you while you slept. It was such a sweet thing to see, and she sometimes saw humans (especially cuter ones like you) like sweet little pets.

"I know what I'm doing with you."

When you woke up, you were in the starting test chamber.

"Welcome to the Aperture science enrichment center"

HAL 9000:

You were sitting at your desk in mission control, on-call until your replacement showed up. It wouldn't be that bad, except you were behind on sleep this week and your replacement was running two hours late with no indication of when they'd get here. In a normal job you'd be able to just go home, but mission control had lives on the line, so you couldn't leave your post until your replacement showed up, no matter how long it took.

As the hours rolled on and the sun started to set, you started to nod off on the table. Nothing but the usual hourly progress update reached your mission control station, and all you had to do was confirm that each message was heard. HAL did most of the work anyway. All you had to do was make sure he was working properly, both in space and at mission control.

Your hourly update came in, and you checked it off on your chart to confirm that things were moving as normal. It felt like no time at all passed before your next hourly update came in, but there was drool on your arm.

"Excuse me, you seem to be getting tired. If you'd like, I can take care of the hourly progress report charting while you lie your head down." Hal said, his little red camera lens lighting up to talk to you. You rubbed your eyes.

"you know I can't do that, HAL. After what happened in 2001, you're not supposed to be left alone anymore."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?"

"No, I trust you... Sorry, HAL, I'm literally too tired to make an argument right now... Just wake me up if there's an emergency, alright?"

You nuzzled into your arms and nodded off again, eyes occasionally fluttering open to gaze at the soft, comforting glow of HAL 9000's red lens light.

After a few more hours of sleeping at your desk, it was time for your shift to start again. You missed an entire night. This wasn't something that never happened, unfortunately.

"Would you like me to contact your boss to find someone to take over your shift so you can go home and get some rest?"

"Honestly? I feel like I sleep better when I can see that little red light." You reached out sleepily and touched it with a little smile on your face. The light on HAL's lens lit up a bit brighter for a second.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything, and I will do the same if there's an emergency."

[ineffable-suffering]

The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

[visionofhope04]

Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

[hunieday]

TEA Take - Shuffle unit Event Story Translation

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Nanase Riku: Everyone watching the video, good evening! Ready... set...

TEA Take: It's "TEA take"!

Yaotome Gaku: "8th Anniversary! Four Thanks Project"!

Momo: Celebrating the formation of our limited time unit! The "Ask this and that!?" edition!

Mido Torao: "TEA take"’s version! Let’s get it started!

TEA Take: Yay!

Mido Torao: Well then, let’s start off by the questions we received from the staff members.

Mido Torao: "TEA take" members, are you getting along well?

Mido Torao: ...is our first question. What do you think?

Momo: Do we?

Nanase Riku: Do we get along?

Yaotome Gaku: Do we now?

Mido Torao: Why are you all pointing at me?

Yaotome Gaku: We had many opportunities to work with IDOLiSH7 and Re:vale.

Nanase Riku: Oh, that’s why! Mido-san, you're being polite because you’re the MC!

Mido Torao: You’re right. I told you I definitely shouldn’t be the MC.

Yaotome Gaku: And we told you it’s fine. You’re getting quite used to it.

Nanase Riku: Your polite speech is refreshing~!

Mido Torao: But you know that Momo-san is right here.

Momo: I want to see my juniors shine as well! But as you can see, it's kinda chaotic here.

Nanase Riku: I get it! It's fun! It feels different from IDOLiSH7, but it's comfortable.

Mido Torao: Yeah. It’s relaxing in a good way.

Momo: By the way, Tora-chan. You were shutting yourself out pretty hard at the start! Or the door to your heart at least!

Mido Torao: No, that's not it. How do I say it…I was just observing the situation…

Yaotome Gaku: You were nervous, weren’t you?

Mido Torao: No, not really...

Nanase Riku: I was nervous too! About Mido-san!

Mido Torao: Seriously!?

Nanase Riku: I was! Because there's no one like you in IDOLiSH7.

Nanase Riku: What do you call it again? The "Orya Orya" type?

Momo: You mean the “Ora ora” type?

Nanase Riku: Yes! The domineering type...

Yaotome Gaku: Nanase, didn't you call me something similar beforehand?

Nanase Riku: The "Orya Orya" type?

Yaotome Gaku: Like a domineering kinda guy. You were scared of me at first, right?

Nanase Riku: Rather than scared, I thought of you as an enemy.

Yaotome Gaku: An enemy?

Nanase Riku: Well you know, because I had the image of someone who took Tenn-nii...Kujo-san away from me...

—PLEASE WAIT A MOMENT—

Mido Torao: Uhhh...

Mido Torao: Well then, let’s start off by the questions we received from the staff members!

Nanase Riku: Please do!!

Mido Torao: The question is, "TEA take" members, are you getting along well? What do you guys think?

Momo: We’re getting along very well.

Yaotome Gaku: We very much are. What about you, Mido?

Mido Torao: I feel like we do. I was a little nervous at first.

Momo: I heard that Riku was also nervous about Torao?

Nanase Riku: Ah, that’s right... there’s really no “orya orya” type of guy in IDOLiSH7.

Mido Torao: ...w...why "rya" specifically…

Nanase Riku: ...W-What’s wrong?! You suddenly covered your face! Are you crying?!

Momo: He’s not crying, don’t worry. Tora-chan is shaking from laughter.

Yaotome Gaku: Ah, it’s the “orya orya”.

Momo: Because he said “orya orya”.

Nanase Riku: Ah…I’m glad you’re okay…

Mido Torao: …heh…heh...ha…

Momo: He’s holding back his laughter.

Yaotome Gaku: He’s quite earnest.

Momo: So he has an earnest side too.

Nanase Riku: Even though he’s an orya orya guy.

Momo: Oh. It’s so over.

—PLEASE WAIT A MOMENT—

Momo: Well then, the great senior Momo-chan from Re:vale will take the lead!

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Please…!!

Momo: In order to get to know each other better, let’s take this opportunity to ask each other questions! 

Momo: Let’s start off by the questions we received from the staff members~

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Yay!

Momo: The question is, "TEA take" members, are you getting along well…

Momo: Who here thinks we’re getting along well!

Nanase Riku: Me!

Yaotome Gaku: Me!

Mido Torao: Me!

Momo: We’re all really good friends! Next question!

Yaotome Gaku: Wait a sec. Aren’t we going too fast?

Momo: This question is causing a lot of accidents. Let’s just move on from it as quick as possible…

Mido Torao: I'm sorry, seriously...

Nanase Riku: Don't worry about it, Mido-san!

Mido Torao: Wait a damn minute, one of them was YOUR fault!

Momo: The friendly atmosphere will be compromised if we fight!? People might think we're feigning it for business!?

Momo: In that case, quickly share stories about our friendship, Gaku!

Yaotome Gaku: What!? Out of nowhere...!?

Yaotome Gaku: ...

Yaotome Gaku: Oh right, so I was naked during the costume fitting…

—PLEASE WAIT A MOMENT—

Momo: Let the great senior Momo-chan of Re:vale take over!

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Yay!

Momo: Leading with a partition of love and courage!

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Yay!

Momo: We're going to ask everyone some questions!

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: We’ll be in your care…!!

Momo: In order to get to know each other better, let’s take this opportunity to ask each other questions! 

Momo: Uh…Let’s start off by the questions we received from the staff members, are you getting along well?

Nanase Riku: We’ve become good friends! I love you all!

Yaotome Gaku: Yes, we have. I've worked with Momo-san and Nanase before.

Yaotome Gaku: But I’ve become especially friendly with Mido, I think I got to know his personality and work attitude through this job.

Mido Torao: Thank you very much. I feel the same way.

Momo: But it was fun, right? We enjoyed spending our time together. You’re comfortable to be around.

Nanase Riku: I think so too! Everyone is so kind and easygoing.

Yaotome Gaku: We didn't have to worry too much.

Mido Torao: You could say that.

Momo: Fufufu... There's a reason for that. And Momo-chan knows it.

Yaotome Gaku: Ohh! What is it?

Momo: It's a surprise! I’ll reveal it as we go through everyone’s questions!

Nanase Riku: I'm curious!

Yaotome Gaku: I’m looking forward to it.

Momo: Alright, shall we start with Riku? Do you have a question you wanna ask us?

Nanase Riku: Yes! My question for everyone is...

Nanase Riku: How can I become cooler?

Momo: You’re asking now!? 

Yaotome Gaku: Nanase is asking that!?

Mido Torao: I was born this way...

Nanase Riku: Somehow the three of you here specifically are the coolest!

Momo: Specifically!? Momo-chan is the coolest in Re:vale!?

Nanase Riku: That's right. Yuki-san is cool too, of course.

Nanase Riku: But the more you get to know him, the fluffier he gets…

Yaotome Gaku: Oh, I get it. The cool part is seriously cool though.

Nanase Riku: Yes! Both of them are cool though!

Nanase Riku: The more I get to know Momo-san, the cooler I think you are.

Momo: Huh, I'm so happy! I’m flustered!

Nanase Riku: Yaotome-san, Mido-san! You two are cool in a straightforward way!

Yaotome Gaku: Thank you.

Mido Torao: Thanks.

Yaotome Gaku: Nanase is cool too, though. I feel like we had a similar conversation before.

Nanase Riku: Oh, right. I think we did! It's not that I’m insecure, but the song...

Yaotome Gaku: The song?

Nanase Riku: Our song for "TEA take" sounds like something you’d escort your guest with style while playing it, doesn’t it?

Nanase Riku: That's right! maybe that's why I thought of Momo-san and not Yuki-san.

Momo: Ah! An escort!

Mido Torao: Ah... that guy doesn’t seem like he’d be good at it...

Yaotome Gaku: No, but he's very hospitable. He's a great cook as well.

Momo: Yup! Darling is super hospitable!

Momo: But I get what Riku and Torao mean. You mean a stylish escort like we see in movies, right?

Nanase Riku: That's right! Someone like our group’s Nagi.

Momo: That guy is cool isn’t he!

Nanase Riku: I think Yaotome-san and Mido-san fit the job as well.

Yaotome Gaku: Well, we're manly.

Mido Torao: You just gotta be put together, right?

Momo: That's not true. You gotta take the lead with more consideration...wait a minute, Tora-chan, you’re the youngest brother right?!

Mido Torao: Y-Yes.

Momo: I totally see it! You give off strong little brother vibes!

Mido Torao: Wuh, really...?

Momo: I get it because I’m also the youngest brother. This is what I was trying to say earlier! Riku is also the younger brother, right?

Nanase Riku: That's right! Oh, wait a minute... so everyone here except for Yaotome-san is a younger brother?

Mido Torao: Ohh?

Momo: That's right!

Yaotome Gaku: Now that I think about it, the three of you somehow have similar vibes.

Mido Torao: Seriously? Where...?

Yaotome Gaku: ...You kinda...

Yaotome Gaku: You have that charm.

Nanase Riku & Momo & Mido Torao: Charm...

Yaotome Gaku: You act like spoiled children.

Momo: Spoiled children...

Nanase Riku: Spoiled children, huh...

Mido Torao: Spoiled children...?

Yaotome Gaku: Today, before this recording. We all probably received the same script right?

Nanase Riku: Yes, probably…

Yaotome Gaku: Did you read through it beforehand or did you just stuff it in your bag?

Mido Torao: Well I stuffed it. 

Yaotome Gaku: You sure did.

Yaotome Gaku: The three of you asked me to show it to you.

Nanase Riku: I did…!

Momo: So did I! Since you’re so diligent…!

Mido Torao: Me too… my bad. I just happened to see you hold one….

Yaotome Gaku: It's okay. Don't worry about it. I’m not complaining about it, just thought that you guys are similar in that regard.

Momo: I do everything perfectly when Yuki is around…! Otherwise I’m a pretty big slacker?!

Momo: So, when TRIGGER is around, I ask for TRIGGER’s help with everything…

Nanase Riku: I know how you feel! TRIGGER feels like that kinda group, right?

Mido Torao: What kinda group is that…

Momo: Don't worry, Torao. Nowadays ZOOL feels like that kind of group to me as well.

Mido Torao: What do you mean!?

Nanase Riku: Natsume-san does everything, right? I'm always grateful to him.

Mido Torao: What and how does he help you normally…?

Momo: In my case, even though I’m reliable, I like to rely on Iori as well. It’s impressive since he’s still a minor too…

Nanase Riku: I'm sure Iori would be very sarcastic even with a senior. He doesn’t care about whether or not they’re older than him.

Yaotome Gaku: Re:vale is also really strong during performances. They are also amazing at ad-libbing.

Yaotome Gaku: On our end, all three of us are the type who can’t be satisfied until we prepare well.

Momo: Here comes a question from Momo-chan!

Nanase Riku: Oh! Please go ahead!

Momo: Among the members of "TEA take", who would you choose as your little sister?

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Little sister...!?

Momo: To be honest was thinking of asking who would be the older or the younger brother.

Momo: But then I realized you might decide based on age, with me as the older brother and Riku as the younger one.

Yaotome Gaku: Oh, you might be right…

Momo: So, little sister it is! Well then, Tora-chan, you answer first!

Mido Torao: A little... a little sister…? Ah, I really wanted a little sister though...

Mido Torao: ...From within this group, right?

Momo: That's right, big brother!

Nanase Riku: Tora-nii!

Yaotome Gaku: Yo, big bro.

Mido Torao: Don’t “yo big bro” me.

Yaotome Gaku: No good?

Mido Torao: …

Mido Torao: Nanase, maybe...

Nanase Riku: Yaaay!

Momo: Awww, I've been rejected! Can you tell us why?

Mido Torao: The way he said Tora-nii… was kinda cute.

Nanase Riku: Thank you, Tora-nii!

Momo: Alright, next! What about you, Gaku?

Yaotome Gaku: I think it would be Momo-san.

Momo: I’m happy to hear that! Gaku-niichan…!

Mido Torao: You decided on that quickly and with no hesitation. Why’s that?

Yaotome Gaku: It's not like that, Mido.

Mido Torao: Huh?

Yaotome Gaku: Actually, I was torn between you two.

Mido Torao: Huh... I felt oddly giddy...

Nanase Riku: I felt oddly rejected...

Momo: This is TRIGGER's Yaotome Gaku. Even if you think you're used to him, he surprises you with a head-on attack.

Yaotome Gaku: Ahaha. What are you even saying?

Momo: Why did you pick me?

Yaotome Gaku: I feel like I’d be very worried if Nanase were my little sister.

Momo: Ah, that’s how it is!

Yaotome Gaku: But I don't like it when my parents interfere with me too much.

Yaotome Gaku: If I were to be worried about a little sister, I wouldn’t know what to do.

Yaotome Gaku: So, I wanted a little sister like Momo-san who’s strong and well-behaved enough for me not to worry about.

Mido Torao: Don’t make it sound like I’d have behavioral issues.

Nanase Riku: Though I feel like Momo-san as a little sister would definitely be popular. Is that fine by you?

Yaotome Gaku: Even if you were extremely popular, you'd still choose Yuki-san, right? So I’ll rest assured. I’m sure you’d still have a good eye.

Momo: Big brother, you're so wonderful…

Momo: If Gaku had a little sister, finding a boyfriend who’d be better than him would be tough.

Yaotome Gaku: What about you, Nanase? Who would you want as a little sister?

Nanase Riku: Huh!? I wonder who... it's hard to decide...

Nanase Riku: ...Maybe Haruka-kun...?

Momo: I thought we were picking someone from our group?

Mido Torao: You mean Haruka from ŹOOḼ? What’s your reasoning?

Nanase Riku: He’s the same age as Iori and Tamaki. Even though they feel older than me sometimes…

Nanase Riku: But Haruka-kun doesn't feel that way, so I'd like him as a little sister.

Mido Torao: Isn't it impossible for him to be a little sister? That guy’s really cool.

Nanase Riku: Is that so?

Mido Torao: He's totally amazing. The type that drags you along forcefully.

Mido Torao: Right now he's still just a kid, but eventually, nobody might be able to resist him, right?

Yaotome Gaku: Wow! I’m looking forward to seeing what his future looks like!

Momo: That kid has charisma! I felt the same when Tenn-chan appeared too.

Nanase Riku: Tenn... Having Kujo Tenn-san as a little sister would be nice too.

Mido Torao: Please don't dodge the topic so blatantly.

Nanase Riku: Though because I rely on both Momo-san and Yaotome-san too much, it's hard  for me to think of them as little sisters...

Nanase Riku: I guess that leaves me with Mido-san...

Mido Torao: Sorry for not taking care of you.

Nanase Riku: Just kidding, Tora-nii!

Mido Torao: This is bad... I’m starting to find him a bit cute now...

Momo: You’re way too cute Tora-chan, you’re so easy to sway.

Yaotome Gaku: Nobody chose me as a little sister at all.

Yaotome Gaku: Next time, I'll do my best to get my sisterly points.

Mido Torao: If I had such a handsome little sister, I wouldn't stand a chance as an older brother.

Momo: How about we go to our next question? Are you ready, Gaku? Or Torao?

Mido Torao: A…About what?

Yaotome Gaku: Then, I'll go first.

Yaotome Gaku: So about our groups…mine is TRIGGER.

Yaotome Gaku: What's the difference between your groups and this unit? Of course, they're totally different, but what’s the difference in your perspective?

Nanase Riku: The difference from IDOLiSH7...

Mido Torao: Ah, my question might be similar. That’s sort of what I was thinking.

Mido Torao: I was going to ask how you'd describe your experience doing "TEA take" to the members of your group. If you were asked, how would you describe it?

Momo: Interesting! Let's combine the elements from both questions and answer them at once.

Momo: Who's going first?

Nanase Riku: I'll think about it for a moment!

Momo: Sure, that’s fine! If you two aren't ready either, should I go first?

Mido Torao: Please.

Yaotome Gaku: Go ahead.

Momo: First of all, the biggest difference is that it's not Yuki's song.

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Ah...

Momo: I'm a huge HUGE fan of Yuki, so when it comes to Yuki's song, I absolutely, DEFINITELY want to deliver it to the fans in the best possible way!!!

Momo: I get so fired up I feel like I’m participating in a national competition. That’s how I feel every single time actually.

Yaotome Gaku: You're a great partner, Momo-san. Yuki-san would be happy to hear that.

Momo: I wonder... Yuki seems happier when we're on the same page.

Momo: I know that, but my darling is way too handsome, so I can’t help it...

Mido Torao: Um...

Momo: Hm?

Mido Torao: Um... Nevermind, I’m sure it’s nothing.

Momo: What’s on your mind? Don’t hesitate to ask~!

Mido Torao: Is it alright if I ask in front of the cameras?

Momo: If not I’ll just cut it off and start from the beginning again!

Mido Torao: That’s tough.

Yaotome Gaku: You’ve already made it this far, just ask.

Nanase Riku: Hey, I hear that a lot too!

Nanase Riku: They tell me this a lot, Mido-san!

Mido Torao: Fine, I get it! Then listen carefully.

Mido Torao: Um…

Momo: Mhm! Go ahead!

Mido Torao: About Re:vale’s married couple bit...

Mido Torao: How much of it is true...?

Momo: Oh! That's a good question!

Mido Torao: Oh, thank goodness..

Momo: Torao.

Mido Torao: Yes.

Momo: Let's talk about it later in the dressing room!

Mido Torao: Yes... Wait what…!?

Yaotome Gaku: Is it out?

Nanase Riku: It’s safe!

Mido Torao: Huuuh!? Was that dangerous after all!? Are Re:vale really...

Momo: Let's get back to the topic!

Nanase Riku: It's okay, Mido-san! I often do that kind of thing too!

Mido Torao: Really!? Thank goodness!?

Yaotome Gaku: Come on, let's get back to the topic.

Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Yes!

Momo: Thanks, Gaku!

Momo: So, that’s how I feel when I’m working as Re:vale.

Momo: It's not that I neglect my solo work or anything, it's just that passion naturally flows through me and bursts.

Momo: In that sense, projects like this one where we can relax and enjoy ourselves are great.

Momo: Everyone is cute, the songs and costumes are great, it's amazing! It's fun! That’s how I feel!

Yaotome Gaku: I kinda understand where you’re coming from. Everyone here is relaxed, aren’t we?

Momo: That's right! I feel like we won’t have any problems in this group, and if we do, we can handle them pretty well!

Nanase Riku: I feel the opposite about Yuki-san. He seems relaxed when he’s around Momo-san, but when he’s alone he turns into a cool senior…

Momo: Huh! That's nice! I want to be Yuki’s junior and have him take care of me as well!

Nanase Riku: Ah, but he can be a bit of a weirdo, you know!

Momo: What do you mean by weirdo? My darling is always handsome, right!?

Nanase Riku: He is handsome!

Yaotome Gaku: I think Yuki-san probably wants to rely on you as well. What would you tell Yuki-san?

Yaotome Gaku: This is Mido's question, if you want to tell him about our unit.

Momo: I’d say that it was fun! Everyone was nice and cute!

Momo: At first, I wondered how it would turn out. Especially if Gaku and Torao would get along.

Momo: Look! Both of you are good kids at heart, but you seem like you’d get into fights!

Momo: But Torao turned out to be more mature and considerate than I thought.

Mido Torao: Actually... um, can I say this? Ah, I did it again.

Momo: Say it, say it!

Mido Torao: Around the time the limited-time unit was decided, Ryuunosuke... I got a call from TRIGGER's Tsunashi-san.

Yaotome Gaku: From Ryuu?

Mido Torao: He said that Gaku is a top-notch idol he respects, but also a really good guy... or something like that. He thought it would be a learning experience for me.

Mido Torao: He wasn't as condescending, but that’s the general idea…

Yaotome Gaku: Ryuu said something like that huh. He talked to me about you too.

Mido Torao: Seriously!? What did he say?

Yaotome Gaku: He may look mature, but on the inside he's an inexperienced boy who’s not used to this world. A clumsy guy if you will.

Mido Torao: ...I…Is that so...

Nanase Riku: Are you okay?

Mido Torao: No, I'm happy and moved... to be cared for like that...

Yaotome Gaku: Ryuu is a very caring guy. And because Ryuu told me that, every time I talked to you I felt like I was talking to Yotsuba.

Mido Torao: I’m not as childish as Sougo's partner...

Nanase Riku: Tamaki is quite mature. There are times when he seems more mature than Yamato-san.

Momo: That kid's been through a lot. But this recent development is good. Feels like a secret story about the formation of this group.

Mido Torao: Ah, that's good.

Momo: So what’s next? Who will answer?

Yaotome Gaku: I can go.

Momo: Oh. Then, Gaku-kun, please!

Yaotome Gaku: Yes.

Yaotome Gaku: The difference between TRIGGER and this unit is that our group meticulously practices until everyone is satisfied...

Nanase Riku: I understand...!

Momo: That's true…! Honestly, you guys are really great…

Yaotome Gaku: Yeah. To be frank, there were a few things I wasn’t fully satisfied with.

Momo: Ahahaha! Like dance rehearsals, right? It sounds like you wanted to practice more!

Yaotome Gaku: I’d have loved to. But of course, I can't ask for too much with everyone's schedules.

Nanase Riku: If we have free time, let's do it again!

Yaotome Gaku: Nanase, aren't you busy?

Nanase Riku: I’m not sure... If I'm not busy! I'll contact you again!

Momo: I'll contact you if I suddenly have free time as well!

Yaotome Gaku: Thank you very much.

Mido Torao: ...

Mido Torao: Ah... Well, I also...

Yaotome Gaku: Thanks. But you don't have to force yourself to match. Your dance moves were perfect.

Mido Torao: No, it's okay. I’m done filming the drama, so I have some free time to spare.

Momo: That's great! Let's all come together when our schedules align!

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Mido Torao: Yes!

Momo: Alright, Gaku! Lastly, what would you tell TRIGGER about us?

Yaotome Gaku: Well, I think I’d say we had a great journey.

Nanase Riku: A journey! That sounds great!

Yaotome Gaku: Right? Because TRIGGER is a place where we can go on a journey with new companions.

Yaotome Gaku: Seeing different scenery, experiencing new things with different companions.

Yaotome Gaku: The final destination of the journey… will probably be the live event.

Yaotome Gaku: Although we haven't reached there yet, we’ve already promised the best journey. We’ll create lots of wonderful memories.

Yaotome Gaku: So, I'm looking forward to it.

Momo: A fantastic journey with fantastic memories. What an amazing thing to say, Gaku!

Nanase Riku: How nice would it be to bring back lots of memories when we say we’re home!

Yaotome Gaku: Exactly! That's right! How about you, Mido? What's the difference between here and ŹOOḼ?

Mido Torao: It might be similar to Momo-san’s answer.

Mido Torao: I'm the oldest in ZOOL.

Yaotome Gaku & Nanase Riku & Momo: Yeah!

Mido Torao: Even though I say oldest, maybe Touma is more reliable. But I'm still technically the oldest there

Mido Torao: But I’m the third oldest here, right?

Momo: Yeah!

Mido Torao: It feels kind of peaceful...

Nanase Riku: Ahaha! You sound like Yamato-san! Even though he’s the oldest, he wants to be pampered quite often!

Yaotome Gaku: Is that so? I don’t see him acting spoiled all that much. How does he act?

Nanase Riku: When he's drunk, he says things like "I dun like this!" (1)

Yaotome Gaku: Seriously!? Does he hold back when he’s drinking with me?

Momo: Yamato, don’t scream when you watch this broadcast, okay? Are you watching right now?

Mido Torao: Is IDOLiSH7 gonna reveal everyone’s truth so carelessly…? It's like a survival game...

Mido Torao: But I'm relieved. So even if you're the oldest, you don't have to act all cool all the time.

Yaotome Gaku: Being natural is the coolest. Ryuu is like that.

Momo: Torao, when you return to ZOOL, you should act like this as a souvenir!

Mido Torao: Well... I was like this at my parents’ house, so I’m not afraid to act like it.

Nanase Riku: Neither am I !

Momo: Momo-chan doesn't resist either~!

Yaotome Gaku: I see, so that side of Nikaido might come out in front of the older Izumi.

Mido Torao: What about Sougo?

Nanase Riku: Sougo-san?

Mido Torao: He’s so clingy when he’s drunk, isn’t he? Not in a bad way, but like a cute clingy, or something?

Nanase Riku: He is!

Mido Torao: He totally is!

Nanase Riku: It's hard to read him, but when he's in a good mood and not sluggish he’ll listen to almost all your requests!

Mido Torao: Why would he be sluggish?

Nanase Riku: Um, so the tea caddy...

Mido Torao: Tea caddy?

Momo: Riku! Let's save that story for when we’re backstage! Okay, last one!

Momo: How about you? What’s the difference between IDOLiSH7 and “TEA take”?

Nanase Riku: Well, when you say it's different, then everything is really different! This is my first time working in a four units group.

Nanase Riku: And because of that, I feel like our song and choreography is unique to us four.

Nanase Riku: When the members of IDOLiSH7 ask me, "How was it?" I’m certain I’ll say, "It was great!”

Nanase Riku: Because I got to work with Momo-san, Yaotome-san, and Mido-san! I wanna brag about how good it felt a whole lot!

Momo: That makes me so happy!

Yaotome Gaku: I’m gonna work hard so that Nanase can brag about me.

Mido Torao: I'll brag too. That I’ve chatted a lot with Re:vale's Momo-san, TRIGGER's Yaotome, and IDOLiSH7's Nanase.

Nanase Riku: Yes! Let's chat a lot and sing a lot!

Momo: That's right!

Momo: Now, did everyone answer? Oh, we asked a lot of questions didn’t we!

Nanase Riku: We did! It was really fun to get everyone’s answers to all kinds of questions!

Yaotome Gaku: I’m glad we had an opportunity like this.

Mido Torao: Yeah. Time flew in the blink of an eye.

Momo: Well then! That's it! The “8th Anniversary! Four Thanks Project”!

Momo: Celebrating the formation of the temporary unit! This was “Ask this and that!?”, “TEA take” edition!

TEA Take: Please drink! TEA take!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!

Nanase Riku: Hello, everyone!

Nanase Riku: I'm Nanase Riku from TEA take!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!

Yaotome Gaku: TEA take, Yaotome Gaku!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!

Mido Torao: TEA take, Mido Torao!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!

Momo: TEA take, Momo!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!

Nanase Riku: Thank you for participating in the “8th Anniversary! Four Thanks Project” campaign!

Yaotome Gaku: To the 1000 winners selected by lottery!

Mido Torao: And to the special ones here with us!

Momo: Let’s start the “Miracle Limited-Time 4 Unit Thanks Live”!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaa!

Nanase Riku: Now, please listen to our unit song, which is also the CM song for 'TEA take'!

Nanase Riku: Ready...!

TEA Take: “Take my rose”! 

The end.

1- in like a spoiled brat tone, he says “嫌だニャ” (iyada nya) instead of “嫌だな” (iyada na) so he’s basically meowing while drunk. 

[farshootergotme]

After reading the Batman and Robin: Year One preview, there's a few things I've gotta say about it.

But first, let's start with the good:

I think the art style is beautiful. Easy to look at, nice colors– And the designs are great! I wasn't expecting Dick without the all-white eyes, but he looks good regardless.

The story seems like it'll be fun. Though I am expecting some drama and possible new traumatic event for either Bruce or Dick.

Speaking of Bruce, I'm relieved to see he appears to be a decent parental figure so far. I don't expect him to be perfect, but it doesn't seem like he's going to mess up too badly.

There's not much else I have to say without getting into the few critiques I have, so let's get into that now.

Let's start with something another person has pointed out already, and that is the decision of making this event occur very early in the timeline.

Usually, capturing Zucco would take months of preparation and planning, but here it only takes them three weeks. And it doesn't say how long it'll take for Dick to start fighting alongside Bruce as Robin, but it better not be only a few weeks as well. That would definitely not be enough for everything Dick needs to learn before fighting crime.

The second thing is the writing.

While reading, I noticed that Alfred makes mention Dick's anger, his inner rage, how he's like Bruce after he lost his parents... Just to show you the next panel an energetic and cheeky kid. He's just slightly bored.

"...he smolders with rage, as you did. As does anyone orphaned by crime."

"But you do know anger, and you do know grief."

What about this kid screams to you "he's angry!"?

And later we see him as Robin, smiling and thrilled about being on his first night out with the Batman, ready to fight crime.

Once again I wonder, what about this kid makes Alfred say "Ah, yes, he's raging"?

Maybe they'll show more of this "anger" in the rest of the issue, but so far it just sounds like Bruce and Alfred are projecting and you can only take them as unreliable narrators.

Once the full issue is released, I hope to see any scene that proves Bruce and Alfred have a reason to think the way they do about Dick.

Overall, I'm excited for the comic, but I will keep my expectations low. I'm trusting the writers to know what they're doing, but better be prepared than be disappointed.