#also she never gives me exact measurements

[fruixtii]

why does my mom never follow the recipe 😭

[mixes-archive]

Hello! Can you write some hcs of könig with a short chubby so? I don't mind if there nsfw or sfw thank you!

König x short & chubby reader HCs (SFW & NSFW)

A/N: say less.

SFW

Mans is WHOOPED the first time he laid eyes on you

I’m 100% sure I already said this in my chubby reader HCs, but he absolutely prefers bigger people

That said, your height, or lack thereof, just makes you much cuter in his eyes

Can and will carry you everywhere. Claims it’s because your tiny legs couldn’t possibly hold up with him, but he just does it to feel closer to you and low-key show you off to other people.

BRO DO NOT LET ME GET STARTED ON CUDDLES

König will hug you in the most awkward, and sometimes backbreaking, ways possible

I’m talking 90° bend so he can lean his face into the crook of your neck or tiddies if you have them

Regularly leans his arm on your head and just lets his whole body weight drop onto you

He’s a bit of a pain in the ass

But at the same time he does really sweet things

For example, if you had a struggle finding clothes that fit and suited you, he would regularly gift you handmade clothes tailored to your measurements and taste

He can’t sew for shit, but his Oma fucking loves you and just keeps making them for you (he’s a tiny bit jealous that he doesn’t get handmade clothes all the time too). She also coincidentally has the exact same measurements as you, so you’re in luck if you like 60s to 90s fashion (very hip grandmama)

Defends you with his life and pride

Would kill anyone making fun of you (only he is allowed to do that)

Please also make jokes about his height, he’ll giggle like a schoolgirl and maybe kick his feet while you both make jokes at each others expense back and forth

“Hey there, short stack” (lovingly)“Beat it, giraffe” (affectionately)

Would NEVER let you be insecure, König is constantly raving about how good you look/ how much he appreciates you as a person/ etc…

Please wear Tracht, it will make him love you 10x more

Loves giving you massages (when you ask why, he just says: “klein und weich” with a completely straight face)

When on missions, König will constantly complain about “wanting to go back to his pretty parter” and how much he misses holding them in his arms. It’s very annoying, but also kind of cute

NSFW - Minors DNI after this point

Whatever your sex is, he would give anything to be in between those thighs

Treats you like a porcelain doll during sex because of your height

At the same time tempted to go rough to watch your body jiggle

Absolutely mesmerizing and impressed when you ride him

He’s a little worried at first because he’s pretty big, but that quickly fades when he sees how gorgeous you are, so vulnerable and exposed to him

Just constantly praising you, he couldn’t degrade you even if you asked him to

Doesn’t matter what your gender is, tight thigh highs turn him on sm

Will fuck you then and there if he can

Never not facing you

Addicted to your face, expressions and body in general

König would even hold back if you told him to go rough on you, because he thinks you’re gonna break if he moves wrong

Absolutely holds you in the air while doing it to “prove a point”

“Do it jiggle tho?” Is absolutely him I can’t describe it any better

[p-taryn-dactyl]

after midnight

a/n: dw i still am working on all my wips but i just wanted to show my love for the movie that ruled my childhood! also if there's a certain fairy tale and character you would like me to do i would love to do more of something like this! this is the first part, but the others have been written already, lemme know if y'all would like me to continue posting for this word count: 2.5k warning(s): the evil stepmother is NOT cunty in this guys (rip cate blanchett); the step sisters are definitely not girls girls; everyone is gay; if you know the story you know; but im also going to add aspects from one of the non-disney versions; mentions of blood (small but at the beginning); not an exact retelling, more like cinderella is a blueprint? prompt: you never thought that you would go from cleaning fireplaces and singing to mice to dancing in the royal palace in a magical disguise, meeting the love of your life. or, a cinderella story <3

The needle pricked your finger, sending droplets of blood spilling onto the fine fabric. You watched as the red seeped into the green, mesmerized by how the blood ran quick. How you wished you could be as free, as quick as you ran. But your father built this house, his hopes and dreams were buried deep into the foundations, no matter how much your step-mother tried to erase his memory. She loved his money but cringed at his legacy.

"Y/N? Gods, where is that wretched girl?" Your stepmother's voice echoed up the stairs to the attic where you resided. Quickly, you folded the cloth over, hiding the spot of blood staining the rich emerald fabric. You were mending an evening gown of your stepmother, one she had snagged on a splinter of wood while evading your requests of new fabrics. Your clothes were quickly becoming patchwork quilts and even though you rarely left your attic space, you were desperate to sew a dress that you could feel proud of. Your door burst open, revealing Valentina, the woman who's presence seemed to make your room grow colder. Her eyes narrowed in on the dress in your lap and she scoffed, hand clutching the handle of the attic door tightly, as if speaking to you was a burden.

"Are you still working on that? Whatever, the fireplace needs tending to," She spun around to go back downstairs, obviously signaling you to follow, "Oh, and be mindful, the dressmaker is here, don't get soot on any of her fabrics."

Valentina's tone was haughty, as if even when she couldn't see you, she spoke looking down upon you. You merely nodded, gently folding the dress on your bed and following your step-mother down the stairs. Making sure to keep your head down, you passed Valentina, heading towards the main fire place, where burnt logs sat and ash blanketed the stone like snow. You internally sighed, knowing how this task would end. Grabbing a rag, you sat on your knees as you started gathering the loose ash and kindling, mindful of the sparks that still lingered. The voices of Valentina's daughters wafted into the room like a burnt goose pie, making your stomach uneasy as you braced yourself for the comments they would surely make. Thankfully, you heard the voice of Shuri, the acclaimed dressmaker, mingling with theirs, gently shutting down their absurd ideas. While your curiousity spun around in your mind, furiously wondering why your step-mother had called on Shuri, someone who only made dresses for the most extravagant of occasions. She also had extravagant prices, prices you weren't sure how your step-mother would repay.

"We can do measurments in here, ignore Y/N, she'll be doing her chores." Valentina absentmindedly waved in your direction, sitting on the stool farthest from you. Shuri nodded in hello, giving you a small smile which you returned. The basket she carried was full of fabric samples and measuring strands, grabbing your attention with the expensive items she so leisurley held. As your step-sisters argued, Shuri gave you her attention, her question making you pause as you cleaned the fireplace.

"Are you also going to the ball, Y/N? I'm sure I have the creativity to quickly sketch a fourth dress." Shuri joked, not noticing how your hands shook as you continued your task. There was a ball? And your stepmother was commisioning dresses for herself and her daughters in front of you, flaunting the knowledge you didn't have. While you could care less about a ball, you were bothered by how little you knew of the outside world, of the town you loved so much. Something clicked in your mind as you thought, lifting your head to turn and begin to ask your stepmother a question but her voice cut through the air.

"Unless Y/N somehow cleans the entire house top-to-bottom until it shines and sorts our mixed grain into like piles in time for the royal ball, I don't think she'll be needing your services, Miss Adanna. Besides, the queen is hosting this ball so her daughter may find a spouse, what use would she have of a serving girl?"

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

"This isn't a request! You must marry!" Evanora's stern voice echoed through the throne room, practically rattling the armour of her guards. She glared at her daughter who stood before her, hair down and wild from horseback. Agatha stared back, arms crossed and head held defiantly.

"For what reason? The kingdom is prospering, the people are happy and for the most part well fed, and we've no news of our enemies to the south! Why must I marry, Mother?" At the purple wisps gathering at her fingertips, Agatha anticipated her mother's response. The queen bunched her hands into fists, her jaw clenched as she spoke.

"You know the reason, daughter. Your...studies have put you in a very precarious position and the curse will solidify on your next birthday. Plus, it won't hurt to erase the image people have of you, with your escapades and trysts that bring embarassment into my court."

Agatha merely scoffed, uncrossing her arms as she held them out incrediously.

"If you've forgotten, Mother, my birthday is at the end of this month. And the curse you speak of can only be broken by unconditional love, something you wouldn't know about." Agatha spit out her words like venom, hopeful they would affect her mother in any way. But the Queen merely watched her daughter with cold eyes, waving her messanger up to the throne. The man gave a crooked bow to Agatha as he passed her, scroll in hand. Evanora took the scroll with a nod, dismissing the man. He scurried out of the large room, footfalls echoing in the silence. The Queen waved the announcement in the air, almost tauntingly, before she opened and began reading out loud.

"The Crown formally invites you to partake in the debutante ball for Crown Princess and Heir Agatha of House Harkness. Our home will be open for three nights as our beloved Princess searches for a partner to strengthen the bonds of our kingdom."

The Queen put down the scroll, letting it fall to the ground as she smirked at her daughter.

"You'll have three nights to find this unconditional love or the consequences you'll face will doom the lives of everyone you hold dear."

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

The thought of leaving the house, if only for a few nights, ate away at your mind, distracting you from your chores. Shuri had long left, your stepmother and stepsisters measurements and requests for last minute additions scribbled on a notepad you were sure she wanted to burn. But before she left, she grabbed a package from her carriage, giving it you once Valentina and her daughters had already gone inside. Inside, you found fabric, soft and beautiful. The shimmering pink shade reminded you of your mother and how she decorated the house before she died.

"I'm sorry it's not much but I've seen your work Y/N, if they won't have me make you a dress, I believe you can bring your own dream to life." Shuri clasped your hands in hers in a goodbye, her kindness overwhelming you, bringing tears to your eyes. However, at the screams of your stepsisters for tea, your bubble was burst and you made your way inside, careful to keep the package out of Valentina's sight, hiding it under a loose floorboard in the kitchen before you started the afternoon tea. Anya, the eldest of the two stepsisters, practiced her dancing, stumbling into the couches and lounge chairs as she held a candlestick in place of the Crown Princess. Damille, the stepsister close to you in age by a few months, scoffed at her sister and mockingly danced, starting a fight between the two sisters. You kept your laughter to yourself, remembering the sting of Valentina's hand when you reacted to her daughters antics the first week after your father's passing. While you waited for the water to boil, you prepared the tea leaves, grabbing a lemon to slice and squeezing the tart juice over the dry leaves. Your mind wandered once again to the idea of going to a ball. A royal ball. While you had never truly seen the royal family, you recalled the portrait of the heir you had once seen in the library of your town. You felt heat rise to your face as you recalled the childlike crush you had on the Crown Princess, shaking your head as you pouring the now boiling water into three teacups, careful to avoid splashing the water onto your skin. Once the liquid turned into a pale yellow-green shade, you strained out the leaves and prepared a tray with the cups, a bowl of sugar cubes, and some milk for Damille, who prefered her tea tart with no sugar. You walked into the sitting room, setting the tea down in front of your stepmother. While you prepared it the way she enjoyed, you attempted to ask her a question.

"Stepmother, may I accompany you to the Royal Ball? It would cost you no expense, I can make my own dress-"

Valentina's laugh cut you off.

"With the scraps you have? I will not be seen in public with someone is a patchwork excuse for a dress, at a royal ball no less. Besides you have chores." Even though she waved her hand through the air, indicating the conversation was over, you continued, feeling slightly desperate at a chance to taste freedom.

"I can get the chores done in time, the house is never truly dirty, and I could wear one of my mother's old-"

It was Valentina's cold stare that stopped you from continuing. Something clicked in her eyes and she brought up her tea to take a sip, reveling in your tense body language. Slowly she set her tea back onto the china plate, the soft clink the only noise as you and her daughters awaited her answer.

"If you can create a dress, a new dress, that isn't embarassing for my family and if you can complete the chore of mucking the stables before the first night of the ball, you may accompany us. But," she held a finger almost accusingly in your face, "You will not speak to anyone of any status while there."

There was something in her tone, something you couldn't quite place but her agreement overshadowed any caution you could've had. You practically danced out of the room, patterns for your dress spinning in your mind.

You didn't notice the look your step-mother shared with her daughters as you left, an evil glint shining in their eyes.

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

Agatha walked around the library, absentmindly running her fingers across the spines of every book as she was lost in thought.

The curse was her fault, yes, but she would never admit her mother was right. She would admit, however, that her stunt of gaining power in hope of overthrowing her mother was done in haste. If she had read the fine print maybe she wouldn't be in this position. She silently scolded herself as she saw a slight purple haze cover her vision as magic pooled in her eyes.

She had three nights, three, to find someone who could potential help her break the curse she put upon herself. Blinking away the haze, Agatha looked down at her hands, her black fingertips fading into dark grey veins up to her elbow. The words her mother spoke to her the night the curse was solidified rang in her head as she followed her unearthly veins with her eyes.

How could anyone love someone like her?

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

You leaned against the tree your parents had planted the night of their wedding, tears streaming down your face as you clutched onto the scraps of your dress. You had slaved over this garment, days were spent tending to your stepmothers every word but nights were spent hunched over with a needle as you sewed a dress you had dreamed of. A dream that was nothing now. You were raised to be kind to all but as you recalled the event of this night, you felt hatred bubble in your chest.

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

Excitement was all you could feel as you slipped into your dress, proud of your work. You had finished mucking out the stables hours ago, giving you time to wash the stink away from your skin and hair. Pride welled in you as you smoothed the fabric with your hands, opening your attic door to join your step-mother and step-sisters as they waited for the coach that would take you to the palace.

"Mother, look!" Anya practically shouted as you walked down the stairs, covering her smirking expression with a fan. Valentina spread her arms out in what you would learn to be false affection. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, your step-mother examined your dress, pursing her lips. Quickly, the excitment you felt died like a dwindling fire as your step sisters joined their mother in circling you.

"Oh Y/N, I just don't think this'll work. This design is just...it has too many faults. Here, let us help."

Your confusion was replaced by cold shock as Valentina's hand shot out to rip part of your sleeve off. Anya followed, grabbing part of the skirt to pull on the seams. Damille's was the worst, using both hands to create a distance between the bodice and the top of your skirt. You stood frozen, tears streaming down your face angrily as they continued to destroy your hard work. It was over the second the familiar sound of horses sounded outside.

You don't remember what Valentina said to you before she left, or the snide remarks her daughters added on. All you remember was running, running through the house, running across the backyard into the open land where your parents tree stood proud.

And that's where you found yourself.

"How could you be so stupid?" You muttered to yourself as you wiped away tears, angry for allowing yourself to believe your step-mother could ever show you kindness. In your wallowing, you didn't notice how the ground in front of the tree started to swirl, how the wind changed directions, how a slight humming noise filled the air.

"Now why are you crying when you should be at the ball?" A slightly cocky voice spoke in front of you, unfamiliar yet comforting. Your head shot up and your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. A woman, wearing a sparling cloak stood expectantly, hand on her hip while the other held a wand. Blinking, you stuttered out a response.

"I, I can't go. They ruined my dress and my stepmother would recognize me. I don't want to deal with the aftermath."

The sparkling woman held out her wand, pointing it at you.

"I'm not too fond of this 'can't' business. You have a very obvious fairy godmother standing in front of you, ready to snap her fingers and say a catch phrase I created when I was younger. So tell me, Y/N, do you want to go to the ball?"

Without hesitation, you nodded and your fairy godmother waved her wand.

a/n: whoa cliffhanger, wonder what happens next...but seriously, i love doing AUs like this and I'll focus on getting my other wips out but lemme know if you enjoyed this??

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 7/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

                “You need to work the dough.”

                “Stop worrying about your clothes.”

                “You will get messy.”

                “Come here. Watch me.”

                Bradley follows Nonna’s instructions, now fully aware just where Leandro gets his demeanor from, although while she is exacting, she is also much freer with her praise. He’s also meant to be helping Violet with her English, but so far she seems unimpressed with him, watching him fail at making pasta.

                “More flour.”

                “Now work it.”

                “You get strong arms making pasta,” Nonna says, poking at his bicep and Bradley huffs in amusement. “Okay. Stronger arms. You make all the pasta from now on. I can rest my old bones.”

                “You’re not old.”

                “Never ask a woman her age! Or even imply that you might know it.”

                “I know, I know. All women are beautiful.”

                “And all the men, sì?” Silvia asks, coming into the kitchen and Bradley flushes, because he hadn’t exactly expected her to find that out the way she did. Fortunately neither she nor Leandro seem to care, and now Violet is looking at him with surprise rather than disdain. It makes a nice change.

                “And all the men,” Bradley agrees, ducking his head with embarrassment.

                Silvia lets out a mad cackle of laughter and pats his face, leaving a flour imprint.

                “Come on now, we still have to make ravioli…”

…            …            …

                He knocks on the door and waits for Leo to come and answer. He’s packed a small bag, basic toiletries and a change of clothes, even if the assumption is that he won’t be needing them. The door opens and he goes to step forward, greet Leo with a kiss except…

                “Oh. Shit. Sorry. You are not Leo.”

                “No. No I’m not. Nice to know he’ll get a warm welcome though. I’m Violet, one of Leo’s cousins.”

                “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you. Jake Seresin.”

                “Seresin? Huh.”

                She’s giving Jake a once over, and rather than feel like he’s getting checked out he feels like he’s being assessed and critiqued, a bit like he’s undergoing inspection back in USNA and about to be yelled out for having a spot on his boot. However he’s got five older sisters and he can wait out anyone.

                “Everything okay?”

                “Hmm. You’ll do Cinderfella.”

                “What?”

                “Just what I call you. Leonardo got drunk and talked about you. I called you the one who got away. Like… Cinderella. But Cinderfella.”

                “Clever. Except I didn’t leave a shoe behind,” Jake grins, quite intrigued to learn that Leo definitely remembers him. That he wasn’t just a vague memory but had made enough of an impression to not only be remembered, but talked about and for his cousin gave Jake a nickname. He’ll take it.

                “No. You didn’t.”

                Her voice is low and serious, she gives him another look, this time Jake wonders if he’s being measured for a body-bag, suddenly a little more nervous. He didn’t expect a shovel talk for a hook up. Prolonged hook up sure, but still a hook up. She jerks her head and steps aside, calls out something in what he assumes is Italian which he thinks he might understand half of. He steps in after her, takes the open door for the invitation it is, toeing off his shoes. Leo appears and his face lights up when he sees Jake and he smiles back. Raises an eyebrow when Violet slaps a hand on Leo’s chest and starts talking to him in rapid fire Italian. Leo is still looking at him, although a quick few snaps of her fingers in front of his face bring his attention back to her.

                “It’s rude to talk in front of guests when they don’t understand...” Leo states with a grin.

                “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to repeat what I just said in English?”

                Jake raises an eyebrow, because it’s obviously got to be embarrassing for him, or maybe Leo. Or maybe her, given the way she’s flushing, although he thinks she might be angry with Leo for putting her on the spot.

                “It’s fine. I don’t mind…” Plus he’s sure Leo can tell him later if it’s funny.

                “She was just saying it was a shame you don’t have a sister…”

                “Uh…” Jake starts, because Leo knows he has sisters. Maybe not quite how many, or that one is in fact a lesbian, if that’s what the angle is here, but he’s not just going to toss that out there.

                “I was joking! Ugh. Call me when dinner’s ready.”

                “Yes your highness…”

                She gives Leo the finger and it reminds Jake so much of his relationship with his own sisters it makes him grin. Leo had said he didn’t have siblings, but obviously he’s got cousins he’s close to. Close enough to work and travel with anyway. Then Leo is clearly not caring about his cousin and is stepping in close to him and giving him a deep kiss, like the one he’d planned to give him when he opened the door. Nice to know they would’ve been on the same page at least.

                “Hi. All good?”

                “Very good… anyone else here I need to meet? Or hide from?”

                “No. They’ve all gone, managed to get earlier flights. Just me and Vi. And she’s going back to New York day after tomorrow.”

                “And she knows when to make herself scarce…”

                “That she does…”

…            …            …

                Bradley feels energized, the other side of fucked out and instead is going to be in a sickeningly good mood which is going to annoy Vi so much. He can’t wait. He is indeed going to make dinner and he’s not going to do anything fancy or new, but he does need something to direct his buzzing energy into so he’s making pasta from scratch, enjoying Jake’s company in the kitchen as he watches Bradley feed the dough through the pastaio.

                “You know, I would have been fine with store bought right? Even takeout.”

                “Just as easy to make it. And it’ll taste better.”

                “If you say so.”

                “You can give me your honest feedback…” Bradley says, pausing to give him a kiss, and it drags on a bit longer than he anticipates, Jake shifting to grab and massage his ass and he groans into it, a little amazed because he’d thought he was done. At least for a little while. Apparently not.

                “No fucking in the kitchen!”

                “Vi…” Bradley groans.

                “I told you to call me when dinner was ready.”

                “Does it look ready?” Bradley snaps, and she’s interrupted the beginnings of a nice make out session.

                “No. And it never will be ready if you keep stopping to…” she pulls a face and waves her hands around, her annoyance at not being able to find the rights words palpable. English idioms were something she’s always hated.

                “Play tonsil hockey?” Bradley asks. “Grab ass? Mess around? Suck face?”

                “Better than sucking other things. Come on. Cook already. Then I’ll go back to my room and put my headphones on really loud. Because I won’t make that mistake twice.”

                He rolls his eyes, pulling away from Jake with reluctance, reminds himself that she’ll be gone in less than thirty-six hours. And he’ll probably miss her when she’s gone, although he’ll only have ten days with Jake and then… well. He doesn’t want to think about what comes after. Instead he lets Jake and Vi make polite conversation and she’s telling him all about her Masters in business and languages while Bradley finishes making the pasta and then starts on the sauce. It’s a simple carbonara with some pancetta and mushrooms because he’s scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of ingredient with it all used up for filming yesterday and then consumed pretty much immediately, and he’d used the rest of it for breakfast and really hadn’t thought it through. At least he’ll be able to go to the farmers market again twice before he leaves. He dishes up and Vi looks at the bowl and then at him, pulling a face and he chuckles.

                “Leave me alone. I’m on vacation.”

                “I’ll say.”

                He puts the sauce on the table automatically, but he sees Jake reaching for it automatically and he grabs his wrist.

                “Wait. Just… try it first without the sauce?”

                Jake rolls his eyes and does a whole put upon sigh; Bradley tries to ignore the feeling of Vi’s eyes boring holes into the side of his head. Jake dutifully tries it, nods and smiles and then promptly adds sauce and Bradley just lets himself shake with silent laughter. Just his luck the hot guy has god awful taste.

                “He’s… you’re… tomato ketchup on pasta? Leonardo.”

                “He’s not making you eat it,” Bradley says with a laugh out loud this time, and he sits down, hooking his ankle around Jake’s. It’s the third meal now he’s seen Jake add ketchup to and he’s starting to think Jake’s tastebuds might be dead. Or unable to taste anything other than ketchup.

                “Salsa scandalo. Mamma mia… Nonna e la Nana sarebbero morte.”

                “Shut up. They wouldn’t die,” Bradley says, kicking her under the table in an effort to make her remember to at least try and stick with English.

                “Oh, I think they would. Then they’d turn into ghosts and haunt you.”

                “Salsa scandal?” Jake asks, repeating part of what Vi had said.

                “You adding ketchup to pasta. Our grandmothers would both have something to say about that.”

                “Bitch. You’d normally have something to say about that. Il cazzo deve essere davvero buono.”

                Jake chokes and Bradley looks at him sharply, remembers Jake saying he’d been learning Italian using DuoLingo. Huh. He probably understood something there, dick or good, or both. Vi can be incredibly crude when she thinks no-one understands what she’s saying except for Bradley.

                “Jake here is learning Italian, so you might want to watch your language. Don’t want him to think you’re not a lady.”

                “Uh, there was never any danger of that…” Vi snorts. “So, Italian huh? That’s a funny coincidence.”

                Jake just shrugs and smiles at him.

                “No, not really.”

EIGHT

[wheelie-sick]

can i ask what the process of getting your wheelchair was like?

Okay so I missed this one by like 15 days (got drowned out in my inbox)

So my wheelchair process began by talking to my primary care about the next steps for my mobility because the aids I already ad were not sufficient and I was struggling with mrADLs around the house such as getting to the kitchen, getting to the bathroom (was limited to like 1-2 times a day, it was miserable, my room was right next to the bathroom) for a lot of things I was being pushed around on my rollator which is not how rollators are intended to be used. I brought all this up to my primary care and included that I was very worried because I was going to be starting university in the upcoming couple of months and I didn't know how I was going to be able to get to classes. my primary care suggested a powerchair, I was like, no, I want a manual wheelchair.

I first got a hospital wheelchair to tide me over until I got my custom chair. Usually DME can give you a loaner chair but I kinda needed something sooner rather than later. I also got a prescription for a wheelchair that was sent to NuMotion. My primary care had never gotten someone a custom wheelchair before so she wasn't sure what to list on the prescription. NuMotion said they wanted just "wheelchair" and nothing else. They said they would do the evaluation and decide which type of chair I needed.

My evaluation was scheduled for approximately 2 weeks after my prescription was finally delivered. My evaluation was done with the help of my physical therapist. At my evaluation we discussed my needs and my wants for my wheelchair. I went in knowing exactly what I wanted and I would strongly recommend you do the same (but be open to suggestions) I have a chair that is literally perfect for me in every way because I knew the exact features and specifications I wanted. Other people who are less happy with their chairs usually went in with little to no idea of what they wanted. Basically, be prepared, do your studying. At the evaluation they also took just, like, a ton of measurements. They measured my legs, my hips, my torso, my pelvic angle, my grip strength, etc. It was a lot of touching, be prepared for a lot of touching.

After my evaluation happened my physical therapist had to write up a justification to insurance for my wheelchair and all of its parts. This took about 2 weeks. My primary care then had to approve all of that justification, this took another two weeks. At that point the forms were submitted to insurance and it was a month and half (extra time because of the holidays) until I heard back about it. I got approved on my first try thanks to the hard work of my physical therapist combined with not being borderline on qualifying.

It took about a month to build my wheelchair. I actually got the news that it was done a week early and I went to schedule my pick up appointment in person and they were like "we actually have it right now do you want it right now?" and of course I was like "yes!!!!!" it felt like Christmas but 10 times better. Genuinely one of the happiest days of my life. Usually you have to schedule your pick up appointment but try going in person to schedule it because sometimes they literally will just let you have it.

Anyways, sorry this was so late. Hope this helps

[shalomniscient]

I AM HERE TO DELIVER! The only reason I came up with that idea was because my oc is a researcher in the fatui and I wanted the role to fit her in the au so here are what I came up with until now! Every car has one main generator directly underneath the driver, with a smaller one at each wheel to give the car the balance it needs on the water surface. The drivers don’t have to worry about auqaplaning in the middle of the track since the gravity field is already pushing the water away. But since every driver has their own strategy, own driving style, own customized car etc. these generators have to be extremely carefully calibrated to avoid any complications for example I hc Furina to have an extreme sneaky driving style with little to no collisions and a rather light car, while I think Arle would drive more recklessly and aggressive but still extremely calculated, maybe nudging a few cars here and there throughout the race but is actually in full control. Her car would be HELLA heavy. Now furinas gravity field would never be able to hold up Arles car especially while driving 330kmh, just as Arles generators would make furina loose control of her car and result in a deadly crash, that’s why reader has to measure every driver, their car etc and be present at every test drive, consult with their strategists and is also in charge of designing the route of the track. Also if Arle happens to drive in childes car for example, she would deadass ruin his generators since they’re just simply not fit for her style and strategy. OKAY I TALKED ENOUGH NOW I’M GOING TO BED, GOOD NIGHT!

you really went into the engineering, this is genuinely really cool. i like that with this concept each car can have its own ‘personality’ in a sense, reflective of the driver. furina being non-confrontational, arle being pretty much the exact opposite. it lends well to narration and themes as well. i really like it! i don’t think i’ll necessarily include it in my own f1 au, since it’s your idea, but i do really like it! maybe tag me in any works you make for your own f1 au, i’d love to see it 🫶🫶🫶

[femmeleatherface]

i tortured myself by reading the poto (1925) shooting script! there were good things and bad things and if i don't infodump about them i will explode

really long and rambly disclaimer: this isn't the original-original draft (which from my understanding is where the rosy hours of mazandaran sequence came from, but don't quote me on that), nor is it the same as the los angeles premiere cut (which from my understanding included the redemptive love ending for erik, which was apparently never scripted and got shot on the fly while they struggled to figure out how to end the film, But Again Do Not Quote Me). that said, you can see traces of the original script and some of the sequences lost with the los angeles premiere cut, and some of the choices made are... interesting!

long post so thoughts under the cut

complete list of items i am mad or at least disappointed we didn't get in some capacity:

the frame narrative. for some reason they had the story come from the files of m. faure instead of anyone actually involved in the narrative like christine or the daroga, but still. would have been cool

a close, honestly sweet relationship between joseph and simon buquet. if you're going to spend so much time focusing on joseph's death, maybe making us care about him is a good thing??? wild concept

la sorelli's knife <3 also just a role for her in general

erik using a trapdoor to spirit away cesar the horse. i don't know if they ever actually filmed this or what since it seems a little complicated, but the way it's written gives me major looney tunes vibes:

130-D ANOTHER PART OF CELLAR #5 OR #6 IF WE HAVE THE SET. MED. SHOT NEAR THE BIG OPERA HOUSE FORGE A groom currying a great white stallion while a Hercules of a smithy is preparing to put new shoes on the stallion. We plant the stallion fastened to a ring bolt in the stone wall by a strap and is parallel with the wall. The blacksmith is holding up the hoof of the great white stallion to measure a shoe, then he moves over to the forge and with his back to the horse pumps the bellows and sings to himself -- then a strange thing happens, a section of the wall and floor upon which the white stallion stands suddenly turns as if upon an axle and the white stallion vanishes leaving apparently the same wall floor and ring bolt - the smithy lifts the red hot shoe from the forge and prepares to hammer it. He casualy looks around toward the place where the horse was, gasps and drops the hammer. Then thinking perhaps one of the stablemen played a joke, he calls to him - they join him and he asks them about the horse.

so! much! daroga!!!! obviously he is the highlight to me. he gets so many more little scenes and i will say they get pretty repetitive after a while (he shows up, is mysterious for a paragraph, leaves, rinse & repeat), so i get why they changed things. but what i find interesting (and most agonizing to lose) about this particular version is that he's shown to be a pretty compassionate man, aloof but overall very kind and caring about others, even before we know what his deal is. he has a scene with raoul where he shoots him a look of "friendly compassion" while raoul is the exact opposite. it's... a wonderful characterization. what the fuck. also i get the sense that he regularly visits erik's house offscreen and maybe every time he's leaving/entering the cellars we are supposed to infer after the fact that he's paying erik a visit. MANY QUESTIONS. anyway this daroga is amazing and wonderful and i love him. we were robbed.

the "erik visible behind the mirror looking at christine" shot before ALW made it cool:

[181.] SEMI C.V. CHRISTINE ON COUCH Suddenly part of the mirror beind her becomes transparent, revealing the upper portion of the masked face.

mme valerius! she's christine's biological grandmother in this script rather than an adoptive mother, but waves hand. her relationship with christine is very sweet. definitely understand why they cut her, though, she shows up in one scene and isn't even mentioned anywhere else. but what she gets is nice

the cemetery at perros scene. it's SO atmospheric and probably was gorgeous-looking in black and white. unlike some of the scenes in this script we know they actually filmed it because we can see extant photos of it and UGH. UGH!!!!! MAD!!!!!!!

erik has a black mask. i get why they didn't do this one too because it wouldn't have shown up well in a black and white medium, but oh... it would have been nice...

the unmasking scene being partially colorized like the bal de masque. i am a sucker for silent film experimentation, this could have been neat

also the rat catcher (as a rat catcher vs. some random guy) having a colorized red scarf around his neck to make him look decapitated. very morbid. love it

the comic relief played by snitz edwards being the guy who touches red death. from a storytelling and filmmaking standpoint it makes sense (brings new characters into the original story, less actors to pay, etc.) and i'm honestly surprised this didn't make it to the final cut. also, erik's "don't touch me i am red death" warning is on his cloak like in the novel and that is one of my favorite book details so it delights me they were originally going to do it in the film

this erik line:

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BAG? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT IS THE BAG OF LIFE AND DEATH!"

more understanding of/sympathy for erik from him expressing his desires in general

subjectivity in the torture scene. raoul imagines a forest fire and a lion in his delirium and maybe it wouldn't have worked but i love the stark contrast of that with the daroga's perspective of the frankly banal reality of the torture chamber immediately after (if only because it's a great daroga moment)

also the daroga being more levelheaded during the torture scene in general like in the book. i don't think they necessarily changed this in the final cut, but i do think they shortened the torture scene to a degree and used shots such that the daroga actively searching for a way out based on his preexisting knowledge is a little hard to infer, whereas on the page it is very obvious

this beautiful moment between christine and erik:

[535.] MED CLOSE UP ERICK AND CHRISTINE AMBER Christine gazes up at him earnestly and the picture is held for an instant. Erick realizes that the final moment is at hand and there is sense of terror in his manner. She asks him in a trembling voice: "DO YOU SWEAR TO ME THAT THE SCORPION IS THE ONE TO TURN?" BACK: For the first time Erick shows fear. In a hushed way he answers her: "YES... IF YOU WISH TO BE MY BRIDE." BACK: Quietly she turns from him. [536.] CLOSE UP CHRISTINE AMBER Without an instant's hesitation, but with thorough consciousness of what she is doing she turns the scorpion. [537.] A LONGER SHOT AMBER Erick walks toward her - a man crushed. Christine in this instant has become his master. Christine turns calmly to meet him.

but also i am extremely glad we didn't get these things:

a long, tedious history of the opera house. so much exposition that is mostly not interesting and only barely ties into the story. yawns. we dodged a bullet on this one

just raoul's entire starting characterization. the raoul we got is hardly amazing but wow. this guy is... literally everything raoul is not supposed to be: cool, suave, dashingly romantic, a womanizer. he's basically every 1920s he-man romantic lead and I Do Not Care For It. he gets better the further the script goes along/the closer the script follows the book, but woof. bad. BAD!

reveal of erik's face and the chandelier scene way too early. 35 pages into a 126 page script, or about 30 minutes in if we follow the 1 page = about 1 minute rule. that would have KILLED the suspense of erik's character and undercut the unmasking scene with christine later. and probably also messed with the pacing and sense of stakes. speaking of:

messy pacing. the most egregious offender of this is the beginning. the first fifty pages cover a single night, in which we: meet our characters, introduce the opera ghost concept, get even MORE boring exposition about the opera house, get three "wow the persian is so mysterious who is that guy" moments, set up the plot with erik wanting christine to sing, the murder of joseph buquet (also setting up his relationship with simon so we're sad about joseph biting the dust later), stealing cesare, the chandelier scene, an erik face reveal, raoul finding out about erik, and a whole bunch of other stuff that i can't even remember because it just comes nonstop all at once. the order is... weird, and the story does not benefit because there is just no dang moment to breathe and get to know any of these people. also HOW DOES ERIK HAVE TIME TO DO ALL THIS MAYHEM IN ONE NIGHT. HOW!!!!!!!!

erik's name is erick. for some reason??? it's like they couldn't decide between the eric and erik spellings and just decided to mash them together for... some reason...

subplot with philippe and his wife trying to send raoul to monaco. i do like giving philippe more to do to make his death is more meaningful, but this... is not the way. philippe calls the cops on raoul when he ends up becoming an army deserter, and i get the desire to add stakes, but I Do Not Care About Any Of This

the rising action for the climax is way too complicated. we do not need christine and raoul planning to leave after the bal de masque and then having their plans foiled because raoul gets thrown in prison, only for him to manipulate philippe into letting him out and then give christine a new plan to run away with her after the show, have erik find out about this and be mad because he was the one helped the cops catch raoul at the bal de masque (also he found out about raoul's prison escape and the new runaway plan because erik's apparently a peeping tom who watches christine get dressed in her dressing room, charming), and THEN get to erik kidnapping christine during the performance because apparently he is great at coming up with elaborate kidnapping schemes on the spot. we do not need it. we do not.

the daroga gets less important rather than more important at the end: this is something you can see in the extant versions, but it's especially frustrating in the shooting script because so much of his character was built up, but after the grasshopper and the scorpion sequence he just... exists. becomes one with the mob and that's it. at least in the extant cuts he gets to be the ONE person who ushers in the mob, semi-justifying his presence after he guides raoul to erik's house. in this script he ushers the mob in with simon buquet and raoul (because yes, the mob ending apparently existed in some form dating back to this script if not earlier--UGH!!!!!), which doesn't make the daroga feel really useful or necessary as a character at the end. also he and erik don't even get one scene together in the entire script, which is flabbergasting to me because the trajectory of the story is clearly steering toward some kind of confrontation between them at the end, but nope. my guess this is all a casualty of the constant ending rewrites and the daroga's character being one of the more difficult characters to adapt to 1920s hollywood movie standards, but i'm still mad. this daroga was so good and even during pre-production was getting done so dirty

philippe.... lives????? how did that even happen, what. just what. he went and was drowned but sike! he's alive! what the fuck.

[astraysimp]

•Who is Mouse?•pt.1

~hey pookies..:it me. I'm back and I have a chan fic for you. A random little idea that popped into my head one day....🫵🏻🥺enjoy

Summary: you and chan have been dating for years (like since 2020 bahahaha) however....family and the skz boys were the only ones who knew. Not even stays knew. So when suddenly, chan releases a Skz record and it's not produced by him not his other 3racha member, but by someone under the name Mouse..how do stays react😈

Warning ⚠️

•mouse is readers pseudonym (but only you and chan knew that 😈😈) - backstory being, chan called you a mouse in the beginning of your relationship, because you were small and quiet (you also tended to make small squealing sounds) and it's stuck since then

•chan x fem!reader

•chan fluffiness

~•here we go~•

You loved music-not only listening to it but, producing it, singing, recording, clipping pieces of a melody together. Chan had seen it and it made him love you all the more. He'd found a notebook of your song lyrics scribbled down, with their accompanying sheet music. The notes marked and written down so carefully ; each note, half note, measure, crescendo, beat, refrain, bit of reverb you'd thought about. And man....he thought he loved music, but he saw the love and passion you poured into each carefully lyric....he could feel it. Could practically hear you singing in lyrics in his head...see you in his studio sitting in that black chair(the exact one he found himself sitting in for hours on end) plucking and pressing away at the keyboards in front of you, hair thrown in a bun, glasses pushed up on your nose, humming to yourself tapping your pen on the paper.that's when it hit him...bing! An idea....to ask you to produce a song and he'd ask at dinner that night....

Chan had just gotten home...from where...THE STUDIO...yk it ! Softly, he kicked his shoes off, exchanging them for the pair of slippers he had to match yours- cute fluffy soft teddy bears , to be exact- sighing to himself, his jacket was hung on the coatrack and his backpack on the floor." Mouse? Baby , you home? I've missed you." Chan called out , smiling to himself as he heard her call back to him from their shared kitchen." In the kitchen. Baby! Dinners ready and I made your favourite....jajamyeong!" She smiled and plated their food, bowls full and two juice filled glasses sitting on the table. "Coming coming! But...not before I get my kiss...it's been to long." She giggled, seeing the sleepy man approach her, shoulders sagging from exhaustion and eyes drooping, "oh my big baby. How did you last so long without my kisses hm," she'd questioned him adoringly. Chan shrugged, a pout on his plush lips," I don't know ...couldn't take it...need a kiss at least every hour." She giggled, taking his face in her hands before leaning up to plant a love filled kiss to his lips." Now....let's eat, I bet my big baby is hungry hm?"

30 minutes had passed, the couple earring in silence. The only sounds to be heard were chewing, and their quiet hums and that was when chan decided to bring it up...her producing a song." Hey mouse ...have you ever thought of....producing a song and releasing it .." chan had looked up at you, mouth full of food."hm? I mean....I have. I just don't feel comfortable putting myself and my voice out there, bun.what's up?" You had dabbed a napkin on your mouth, sipping your water," well ...I've seen your notebooks mousey! And your songs are so good , why hide them from the world?I mean...I could ...sing them, release it as a record and you'll be marked under the credits...under a name you're comfortable with?" That thought never occurred to you, having chan record it, but give you a pseudonym? "A pseudonym?like.....mouse?" She'd asked him ,cheeks full of the bite of food she'd taken." Yeah...that way we know it's you....but only we know." You were hesitant....not knowing how his members not stay would react to "his" song...but as long as you had channies support, you'd be okay.

And....days later, there you two were ...in his office.it was time to start recording the song. This song meant a lot to you and chan- entailing feelings buried in your chest that you could only say through song. The lyrics sharing how you and chan felt about each other. So, there you were, cosied up in sweats, hair in a messy bun and glasses perched on your nose. Chan was dressed similarly, in sweats but with a beanie, in the booth with headphones on . He was ready and gave you a thumbs up , looking at the sheet music in front of him." I'm ready baby!" He'd spoken into the microphone, flashing you a dimpled smile." Okay baby! Start at the first verse, starting at ' sleep had never came easy to me, insomnia keeping me awake' yeah? I feel like it's meant to sound louder than a whisper but softer than talking,yeah?" He'd nodded, following his lovers directions. That's how the next week went as the worked on the song. He'd be watching her tap on the key board then switch to giving him instructions, writing small notes down.

Three weeks, many sleepless nights, multiple impromptu studio sleepovers-aka you and chan falling asleep- and shared ideas later ....it was done. YOUR song was done. You and chan were sitting in the studio, staring at the computer, then back at each other . Anticipating the adrenaline rush of uploading your song to YouTube on the official Stray Kids YouTube as a skz record. Chan grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he loaded the track file, almost clicking the upload button."you ready,mouse? Three weeks of our hard work, it's almost time, yeah?" You were nervous and chan could tell. "I am....I think I am...I'm scared channie." You'd conceded, your grip on his hand tight as you rested your head on his shoulder. "My mouse, your song is brilliant, even Changbin and Han would be jealous of the pure passion and love you poured into this. And even then...they won't know it's you...it's our secret." He'd whispered the last part, pressing a kiss to your forehead." Okay okay....let's do it!" You'd nodded taking a deep breath and .......*click*....uploaded

11.37 pm....stray kids posted a new video..

SKZ Record(Bang Chan)- locked away feelings

3 minutes 45 seconds

Credits: written by Bang Chan and mouse

Produced by Bang Chan and Mouse

The deed was done....your and chans baby was out...and now all that's let's to see is what stay thought ...

[lucy90712]

Road to recovery- part 2

masterlist Lola's POV

It's been a long week waiting for my surgery as I haven't been able to do much as they don't want me to cause more damage by walking around too much. As someone who is always active and barely sits down this week has been hell but today has been the worst. Knowing that it is surgery day but having to wait sat in a hospital has been torture seeing everyone else get called while I just sit and wait has been awful. Until today I wasn't nervous about the surgery but the longer I've had to wait the more anxious I've become as there's a big risk I means the surgery could not go to plan and then I may never compete again and that's a scary thought. My life has been dedicated to sport even my degree is sport related as I wanted to have the knowledge that helps me understand my body better so if I can't do gymnastics again I don't know what I'll do with my life. 

Eventually I was called back and the nurses prepped me for surgery. I was given a gown to wear which they had to help me into as I can't put any weight on my left leg which makes changing difficult. They did some basic checks as well like measuring my heart rate and blood pressure before hooking me up to a few machines. Then it was time to go into the operating room which just felt so cold and clinical which I know it's supposed to be but it didn't help ease my feelings of anxiety that I was already feeling. Luckily someone then came in to give me the anaesthetic to put me to sleep which worked very quickly so before I knew it I was falling asleep. 

As my eyes opened and adjusted to the lights I noticed that they weren't as harsh as the ones in the operating room and the ceiling was different too. My brain was still slightly foggy but as I was coming to my senses I realised that I must be out of surgery which woke me up a little more and I finally looked down at my leg to see bandages where they had cut into my knee and a brace was already attached to my leg to limit its movement. Just as I was about to find the button to call a nurse one walked in and offered me a smile once she saw I was awake.

"How are you feeling Lola?" She asked 

"I'm ok did the surgery go well?" I asked 

"Yes it did we were able to repair your acl and the damage to your meniscus wasn't as bad as we feared so you didn't require any further work to fix that we are going to keep you over night just to monitor you and to start physio tomorrow morning" she explained 

"Thank you" I replied 

"Also I'm sorry that you are having to share this room but we are low on rooms and you two have the exact same injury so we thought it was best to put you together" she said

I was extremely confused until I looked to my right and saw a guy who looked weirdly familiar sat on his phone also with a brace on just his was on his right leg instead. I don't know how I didn't notice before as our beds are quite close together but I guess thats what anaesthesia does to you. Once the nurse left I turned my attention back to this random guy as I was curious as to who he was but he was yet to acknowledge my existence as he hadn't looked up from his phone. Seeing as he wasn't paying any attention I took my chance to study his face to see if I could work out where I recognised him from. I noticed that he looked to be about my age the the muscles in his arms told me that he was definitely an athlete too which only made me more curious. In my head I was trying to go through the sports where acl injures are common and the first sport that came to mind was football. With him looking my age and us being in Barcelona I assumed he was part of one of the youth teams but then I wondered why I recognised him as I'm really not that into football so I'd have no idea about any youth players. 

"Do you need something?" The guy asked coldly which made me realise I was still staring 

"Oh sorry I didn't mean to stare" I said

"Whatever" he scoffed going back to his phone again 

"Wait I um have to ask how did you end up here?" I asked 

"I was playing football and landed awkwardly on my knee" he explained 

"I'm sorry that sounds awful I hope this doesn't seem weird but I'm really not that into football but I recognise you from somewhere do you play for one of the Barcelona youth teams Barcelona atletic isn't it?" I asked 

"No I don't play for the B team I play for the first team" he said so nonchalantly like it meant nothing 

He had rendered me speechless with that. I simply couldn't think of anything else to say as my brain was preoccupied with freaking out over the fact that I was laying in a hospital bed in the same room as a Barcelona player. Football isn't my thing but that being said I know how hard those guys work and how crazy it is to find yourself in the situation I am right now. Once my brain had come to terms with the fact that I was next to an actual well known athlete I realised I still wasn't completely sure who he was so I found my phone amongst all my stuff and went straight to Instagram. I went onto Barcelona's account and the first thing I saw was a post with the guy sat right next to me. Gavi. That's who he is the big star boy of the team that's why I recognised him there was a time when he was all anyone talked about whether that was because of his footballing abilities or how attractive they thought he was. Of course I had to look at his Instagram and after scrolling through a few pictures I decided to follow him. It's not like I'm ever going to see him again after we leave this hospital plus he won't even notice he already has millions of followers. 

What a day. No one is going to believe me when I try and tell them that I spent my time in hospital with Gavi and honestly I wouldn't believe me either but here we are. Good thing he doesn't seem to want to talk to anyone as I don't know if I could hold a conversation with him for more than a few seconds now I know who he is. 

[totally-sick-blogger]

Disability representation in Bob's Burgers

This is going to be a long post so buckle up and perhaps grab a snack

I am neurodivergent and physically disabled and Bob's Burgers is one of my two special interests so I feel very qualified to talk about this so let's just dive right in

In ~ my opinion ~ Bob's Burgers is one of the best shows overall in terms of disability and LGBTQ+ representation. Still, Today we'll be focusing specifically on disability rep and I'll be breaking it down by character and we'll be discussing both canon and implied disabled characters.

Tina Belcher - Tina is headcanoned by many (including myself) as being Autistic, as many of us autistic people find her extremely relatable and a lot of her symptoms to be obvious. She has a very hard time making and maintaining friendships with people besides her siblings, she does not understand most social situations, all of her "friends" besides Zeke are mean to her but never realize that they're being mean to her unless Louise points it out. She also displays heavy and intense interest in horses, and romance, which many see as her special interests. She also frequently stims both physically and orally; this is especially prevalent when she's in situations that she finds stressful. She's also known not to understand jokes or sarcasm (there's literally an entire episode with this as a running side plot, see season 7 episode 15) she also frequently tries to act like someone she's not and pretend to take interest in things she doesn't actually like in an attempt to make friends (see season 13 episode 14). There's also an entire two-part episode where she's a robot who's pretending to be human which was meant to be an allegory for her masking and she and Bob have an entire song dedicated to them feeling like they're unlikable and not knowing how to be "normal" and I find it painfully relatable and it has me in tears every time I watch that episode (season 12 episodes 21 and 22). The common argument against Tina being autistic is that within the first 5 minutes of the very first episode, there's a joke about Tina being autistic and Bob says "You're not autistic Tina" but my argument against this is that the Belcher family canonically does not have much money and getting diagnosed is very expensive. (also the entire family is very neurodivergent so it wouldn't shock me if no one in the family noticed that she was autistic)

Bob - Bob displays a lot of the same behaviours as Tina but also tends to be portrayed as the classical undiagnosed adult autistic man. He also has a strong tendency to personify and give names to objects such as his spatula; this however can be a sign of autism or childhood trauma which we also know that he has as it's showed and explained on many occasions that his childhood wasn't super great since his mother died when he was a young boy and his dad was not great at parenting and was showed to care more about his restaurant than his son.

Linda - Linda again is the classic undiagnosed adult auDHD woman. She's very hyper-active, and tries really hard to control situations but not in a malicious way. she needs everything to be perfect all of the time and takes extreme measures to make that happen which usually wind up making the situation worse (see season 1 episode 7)

Gene - Gene (in my opinon) clearly has ADHD. He's forgetful, can't get himself to do activities that aren't of his immediate interest, day dreams a lot and his very very extroverted. (Though not all ADHDers are extroverted). He also has a very hard time with rejection sensitivity which is common in people with ADHD.

Teddy - Teddy is the Belchers best customer and close family friend. He also displays symptoms of autism but on a more "severe" level than other characters mentioned. He eats the exact same thing for lunch every day at the exact same time, and literally has a breakdown if that changes without warning. He also has no social skills, is easily manipulated and has strong attachment issues particularily towards Bob and Linda. Also he's a hoarder but I'm not sure if that's relevant to this.

Gayle - I'm not really sure what's going on with Gayle or where to start with her but she definitely has some stuff going on in her brain.

Jimmy jr - Jimmy jr has a speed impediment and often displays his frustrations with his dad who wants him to go to speech therapy and get rid of his speech problems even though he'd rather spend his time pursuing his dreams of being a dancer.

Benji - Benji is a character who appears in a season 13 episode. He's a student in Louise's grade who uses a wheelchair and has a passion for puppetry and loves Jim Henson; though his mother would rather that he took wheelchair basketball lessons. (Also, fun fact: the voice actor for Benji also voices a disabled character on Sesame street, who's puppets were originally crafted by Jim Henson)

This post is already long enough so I'll stop here but I could go on for ages about this subject. I hope you all learned something and feel free to add to the conversation in the comments. Remember that some of these are just opinions and you're aloud to disagree.

Have a great eveing lovies and if you made it this far thank you for reading <3

[candycryptids]

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Tangy, all Tangy, give me Tangy Lore

■ - Tangy makes her long-term stay wherever the Scions have settled- the Waking Sands, the Rising Stones, unfortunately missed out on most of The Falling Snow.. while she’s still a much smaller Miqo’te staying in the Waking Sands she insists she doesn’t need much space to sleep, and just has a bunk with a leather bag hanging off one of the posts. Granted, that bunk is piled with blankets and pillows, and she doesn’t even sleep under them; it’s all just lumpy padding for curling up on top of and snoring. (After meeting with Chuu and finding out 1) there was a way to avoid getting arrested after the Banquet fiasco and 2) she could totally be stronger. Totally. And subsequently getting… let’s call it Off-Brand-Fantasia’d, she needs a bit more space.. she stops snoring most of the time, though. Having more snout apparently makes it easier to not snore!) She doesn’t ever keep an apartment of her own, but she does sometimes trek from Revenant’s Toll to Vesper Bay to check in on the old haunt, since Urianger seems keen to Never Leave. lmao.

This gets real long so here’s a cut for the sake of the dashboards lol (good lort there’s images down there��)

✿ - She’s Asexual! In that she doesn’t feel sexual attraction towards people, but she does enjoy the act? It’s a good way to relieve stress and it’s fun exercise and it’s a nice way to bond with others.

She does, however, struggle with the ‘Oops’ part of Chuu’s ‘Fantasia’ which was giving her a body with a dick :T There’s a learning curve. (Among other curves. Wink? Sorry dndndndnfke) Also, not necessarily sex, but she probably kisses her friends. Because she cares about them! Cheek kisses, lip kisses, forehead and top of head kisses… hand kisses… Kisses :)

Yda and Tangy pose is [Glomp Tackle] with fresh expressions but the rest are all custom done ;w; oh also shader is Neneko’s Love… I think.. 🫢 it’s all the same one 🤦 I just forgot to write it down

∇- I genuinely think Tangy gets a handle on Accounting by hanging out with Tataru so much over the years. It keeps Tataru’s mind off worrying about everybody as much while they’re away on business, and Tangy gets to wrinkle her brain (this takes. Such a long time though. She’s still not reliable for it, either, but she’s passable :3) .. for a proper aging headcanon tho I think as she gets older she becomes an anchor point for the Scions like Tataru is. Sets up shop and trains young adventurers in combat and cooking and camping. Her whiskers twitch when thunderstorms are brewing. She still sometimes needs nudging from her own students on things, but it’s usually in things relating to Reading. I feel like she has pretty bad dyslexia and maybe even dyscalculia that she’s just learned to deal with.

♒- LOVES food. Loves to eat. Loves to help with cooking. Measuring ingredients for recipes is actually pretty easy since it’s not demanded exactness, it’s just “half of this cup, level this cup, just enough to cover the bottom of this pan,” like, not exact. You feel cooking with your heart. And kneading bread is an excellent and fun work out to her. Can not bake.. Kinda wishes she could. She’s just not precise enough, and she gets the order in which things have to be done mixed up, so she ends up with some pretty…. Not exactly inedible but…. 🫢 It’s not appetizing looking.. and it doesn’t taste great… She’s not a picky eater, but she hesitates to eat snails. It just makes her a little sad, cos they’re cute to her. And then she eats them anyways =w=; the chef worked hard to make this delicious meal and she’s gonna eat it! (And not eating the snails would waste their life so. Honor their sacrifice and eat them.) Her favorite food is whatever she can eat with her hands/whatever’s in front of her at the time, and any of F’lahminn’s cooking. Even if it’s burnt.

[shout out to Elio for their Dango Props they’re so cute]

Oh shit I forgot to link the [Ask Meme]

[birgittesilverbae]

being so brave

bealil + gifts

bea & lil instead of bealil but suck it up

//

The reek of fire and brimstone is faint but still noticeable when the door creaks open behind Beatrice. She tips her head back over the back of the couch, her sunglasses sliding up her forehead at the motion, and catches Lilith's eye. "You don't have to teleport into another room, you know," she comments, pulling her glasses back into place.

"It would be rude to do otherwise," she says, kicking off her shoes by the door, "and I know the smell can be a trigger for you. And I'd rather be safe than risk seeing something else I'll never be able to erase from my memory."

"Oh, the horrors of witnessing a private display of affection."  

"The horrors of seeing Ava's breasts." Lilith flicks Beatrice's forehead gently as she heads towards the kitchen. She shifts something between her hands as she moves past, keeping it out of Beatrice's line of sight, but Beatrice is too tired to press her on it. If Lilith wants a secret, she can have it.

"She said she'd tell you where she bought her bra if you asked nicely." 

"I don't want to know where she got her bra. I don't want to know about anything involving her undergarments." Lilith's flat tone echoes down the hall towards her. "Who organised your kitchen? Why aren't the mugs above the kettle?"

Beatrice doesn't dignify the questions with a response, though she'd been just as disgruntled with the choice initially. There's the quiet open and close of cupboard doors as Lilith attempts to hunt down the mugs. Finally, Beatrice rolls to her feet and pads down the hall to take pity on her. She slides open the drawer directly below the kettle, where the mugs lie within easy access of Ava even on the days when her mobility is most limited. 

Lilith stares in bewilderment for a long moment, then her eyes flick up to take a measure of the cupboard height. She nods in easy understanding. "Am I to assume your tea supply is also in a drawer, then?"

Beatrice tugs open the next drawer wordlessly, sweeps a hand towards the rows of neatly labelled cans of looseleaf. "Do you need help finding the spoons as well?"

"I'm sure I can manage," Lilith replies dryly, rolling her eyes. "Stop hovering."

Beatrice retreats to the living room, resumes her sentinel position tucked into the corner of the couch. Time blurs around her in that way she hasn't yet managed to get a handle on. It's a perception thing, Jillian's neurologist has claimed, caused by the damage to her cerebellum. It's a nightmare, Beatrice has decided. She's spent her life in careful planning and observation, only for her brain to fail her at this most basic task of keeping time. 

It's minutes before Lilith joins her; she can tell that much, at least, but the exact length of time evades her. In one hand she's carrying Ava's current favourite mug, the one with a drawing of a koala resting in a mug of tea as though it's a hot tub. In the other–

Beatrice's breath catches in her throat as she takes the lumpy mug from Lilith, as her thumb rubs across the ridges of clay that stand out where three words have been clumsily carved into its side. "Why?" she asks finally, as Lilith settles on the couch beside her and kicks her feet up on the coffee table.

"Mary started packing up her apartment today."

"She what?"

Lilith gives her a side-long look, her lips pursed. "Did she really not tell you?"

Beatrice shakes her head. 

"She's decided to stop using me as her Uber to get to the new headquarters, so she's moving into the village. Just down the road from here, I believe."

"Oh." The pad of Beatrice's thumb catches on the chip in the lip of the mug. "And this?"

"She shattered the 'paint water' mug before I could prevent her from doing so, but I managed to rescue that one." Lilith shrugs like it's not a big deal in the slightest, but there's an edge of anticipation to her posture, as though she's waiting with bated breath for Beatrice's reaction.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "I appreciate it." Her fingertip slides into the slight depression on the base of the mug. A perfect fit, whorls and all. "How's Mary?"

"Complaining that I dropped her off in Munich or hunting down the nearest bar. It could go either way."

"Lilith."

"I made sure she had her shoes and wallet this time."

The dim lighting seems to burn her retinas, even through her tinted lenses. She flexes her fingers, extends them. "When does she need to be packed by?" she asks, following a long pause. 

"I dropped Camila and Ava off before I got here, Beatrice. There's no need to push your limits by going to help."

Beatrice sighs. "Take me there," she says anyways, cradling the not paint water mug to her chest and holding her free hand out to Lilith.

She's not sure the squeeze-burn-tear of teleportation has ever felt worse than it does now, as she finds herself dropping onto one end of Mary's couch, Lilith arriving cool and composed and directly atop the cushion. Of course, she'd practised the shift hundreds of times while she'd been looking after the place, but Beatrice's headache is ramping up towards a fever pitch from the jolt she'd taken from the impact after arriving a solid four inches above the couch.

Between them, Ava barely twitches in surprise. It's a good thing, too, because Princess is settled in her lap and purring so loudly it's audible even through the ringing in Beatrice's ears. (Beatrice is almost certain Lilith hisses something that sounds startlingly similar to 'traitor'.) "Hey, Bea," she whispers, "I did say I'd catch you later. How're you doing?"

"Feline fine." Ava cocks a sceptical eyebrow. "Not any worse than I usually feel, anyways," she amends.

"Well, I'm glad you were up to joining us. In something other than photo form, anyways," she adds, gaze flicking to the mantelpiece over the fireplace.

Lilith takes a loud slurp of tea, drawing Ava's attention towards her instead. "What happened to boxing up the kitchen?"

Ava gestures helplessly at the cat. "What other choice did I have?"

Lilith rolls her eyes before taking another obnoxiously loud sip. "Princess," she say then, tacking on a pspsps for good measure. The cat stirs, rises to stand on Ava's thigh for a long moment before making up her mind and shifting over to Lilith. Lilith's shoulders loosen, and she holds up her fingers to let Princess sniff at them. 

"There goes your problem. Go give Camila a hand."

"Aye, aye, captain." With a mocking salute, Ava bounces to her feet. She swoops in to give Beatrice a soft, fleeting kiss, then heads for the kitchen.

Lilith scratches Princess behind the ears. "She's going to have questions about this later," she says. Where the movement of her fingers is idle, the comment is anything but, heavy with an air of calculation.

"I've already told her most of it."

Lilith tilts her head in the direction of Beatrice's mug. "Not enough to fully explain the shards she had to clean up earlier."

"It's not my–"

"No one else is going to tell her, Beatrice, and she needs to know. Whether or not it's your place, it is your duty."

[ln-stories]

Mammon's mc!

This is the second drawing and headcannons of my mini series with the obey charachers with their custom sheep mcs. Previously i done simeon's mc, after alot of consideration i decided to do Mammon next with his own custom sheep mc!. If you wanna check previous stuff check my page and thank you for reading and im accepting requests for the next obey me characher!

(Apologies for any grammar mistakes)

Second Mammon's MC

Warnings: spoiler alert for the series lessons

Headcanons:

This mc (she/they)

Personality: confident, skillful (plus knows karate), a dumbass sometimes like Mammon, small anger issues, chaotic good vibes. 

1) This mc is the exact opposite of simeon's mc since she is the largest one in this series. Height is around 5'3 on two legs

2) She is very fluffy and glittery giving magical girl vibes on her looks

3) When The mc arrived at the devildom, she was shocked but was feeling like she could take the demons in a fight if they didn't return her back. (spoiler alert: those karate classes she took back in the human world didn't work much on The demon prince Lucifer XDDDD)

4)Later on she was assigned to Mammon to guard her and guide her through the devildom. Let me tell you reader this didn't go as planned as you saw in the earliest chapters of the story. This mc is much more fiesty as well so this didn't help much the situation either.

5) Slowly mc is trying her best to adapt her new lifestyle while also go ham on Mammon everytime that he tried to steal something from her room to sell it off.

6)Mammon was forced to make the pact the mc after the "Goldie incident". He is now listening to her more. Thought they still don't trust eachother at all.

7)After the TLC showdown event, Mammon was never felt such frustration for not being there to save mc on time to the point he started regretting all the time he has been completly scammy and ditching them on random occasions. 

8) Both of them made peace with eachother and started to actually putting effort to their friendship. (Occasionally ofc Mammon would be a tsudere as per usual XD)

9)They started hang out more and more, slowly lowering the iQ of the Mc as Mammon was pulling them into pranks, and other dumb situations. MC didn't mind it one bit though. Sometimes it's ok to be a little silly.

10) Mc teaches Mammon karate whitch is probably hilarious cuz Mammon would show the brothers what he learn just to not mess with him and embarrassed himself everytime he either falls down the stairs or he trying to punch metal and instantly regret it.

11) obviously Mc is Mammon's "first" as mammon call it. They are absolutely jealous when other people try to get close to them, especially the purgatory squad that just want to get to know her better. It's a big no to him. (closest friendships: Mammon, Levi, maybe Beel too?)

12)At this point Mammon and mc are besties. Mammon is not the best when it comes to sharing or gifting but for the mc he will even use Goldie whitch is a really rare occasion.

13)Movie nights and hellsauce noodles are regular thing when they hang out. It's like a comfort for both of them. (both cheap and fun!)

14) At the lesson 16 Mammon felt like he lost some centuries of his life just by mc not moving in his arms. He didn't felt like he lost just a friend. He felt like he lost the first person who actually gets him in a deep level. (oop mc is alive and so is Mammon's sanity!)

15) After a while Mammon felt like he became mc's right hand man, doing pranks, hanging out everyday, sitting down together at lunch and prank lucifer from time to time for good measure. (bad idea)

16)Lucifer himself sometimes tried to seperate you two because they were lowering the IQ of the whole house of lamentation as the other brothers joined in the dumbassery for fun.

17) Mammon is getting better at karate? Ye! He even humiliated a lower demons for trying to harm mc. Mc found was crying with tears of joy because she teached him well.

18) The mc showed the human realm to Mammon and the brothers. Let's say Mammon loved all the new flavor cheap noodles packets that got from the human Realm.

19) The mc loves to wear earrings so the final gift that Mammon gave her before RAD ended was an earring with his symbol to always remember that he will always be next to her whenever he needed her. The mc treasured it for life.

20) After RAD ended Mammon and mc were visiting their realms back and forth whenever they could, mostly Mc visited devildom thought. Mc made had mostly befriended all the brothers but the purgatory hall squad aren't as close as she wanted to admit. 

Thank you for reading! request are open for next obey me characher and custom mc!

[luck-and-larceny]

Dowdy

She was going to stop seeing him anyway.

He didn't know that, of course. As far as he was concerned, things were going great. 

Things weren't going great.

She wasn't a nice person, not by any stretch of the imagination. Insincere, fickle, teasing, and difficult, Malika was never more invested in someone more than she was invested in herself. She was selfish and unbothered by it. Everyone, to her mind, would be a lot happier if they allowed themselves to be more selfish.

And this guy she'd gone on a handful of dates with was certainly selfish.

But he was also mean.

And it was a boring, unfun, unpleasant sort of meanness. Being mean could be entertaining! Malika'd always enjoyed a good biting back and forth between two shitty people who clearly were having a good time with their horribleness. But the participants had to enjoy it or what was the point?

There was nothing joyful or entertaining about this man's meanness. He didn't seem to get anything out of it but anger and an inflated sense of superiority. He brought the mood around him down with it. That was the exact opposite of fun and Malika was only ever invested so long as there was fun to be had.

Oh, sure, he was attractive. He had the prettiest brown eyes she'd ever seen. And she'd never dated a Viera before so that was novel and exciting. But there would be more pretty brown eyes out there for her to marvel at and he wasn't the only Viera in the world. Maybe the next one would at least have fun when he was being a bastard. 

Tassilo was always particularly shitty when it came to fashion. On every one of the four or five dates she'd gone on with him, he'd commented on how little the others around them seemed to care about their appearance. He'd criticize color choices, material choices, shoe choices, jewelry, hair styles– really anything at all– as though it were fascinating conversation that made him look particularly gifted at fashion himself. 

It didn't. He looked fine. But his snide, angry comments actually made him look less fashionable and less attractive, not more.

So she had no choice. She had to end it. 

And if she was going to end it, she was going to have fun with it.

Why do anything at all if it wasn't fun?

He'd invited her to a fancy art gala. He'd told her he'd bought a new, tailored outfit for it. He would be wearing new, expensive boots. He couldn't wait to see what she'd wear.

She looked forward to showing him.

He did not appreciate being shown.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning in a circle to give him the full view from all angles. "I worked hard on it."

"What have you…" his face was red either from anger or embarrassment, perhaps both.

"You don't like it?"

'It' was a literal burlap sack– well, several burlap sacks that she'd fashioned into the most shapeless dress imaginable. It hung, unflatteringly, straight down, somehow managing to avoid every sensual curve of her body in the process. It was completely shapeless. She'd worked hard on that and was genuinely quite pleased to have accomplished it. With it she wore gray shoes she'd fashioned from cheap felt. They were extremely poorly made, given she had no experience making shoes, and they hardly functioned at all. In fact, she had to wait to put them on once she'd gotten close to the date spot because she knew they'd be too ruined to be effective otherwise.

She'd chopped her long black hair to her shoulders. She'd done it herself with no measuring and no care. It did not look good.

Her nail polish was chipped.

Her jewelry was cheap and did not match.

She wore no makeup on her face.

He had no way of knowing how much effort she'd just spent to look like she'd made no effort at all.

"You've done this on purpose," he said matter of factly, but there was a dangerous chill to his voice.

Oh. Ok. Maybe he did know!

"You've done this to embarrass me."

Wow. Damn. He was surprisingly perceptive. Credit where credit was due. 

"So…" she said slowly, playing stupid, "You're saying you don't like it?"

"I was excited to see you. I've been excited all week. And you ruined it. You ruined it!"

She smiled. "Yeah. Ruining stuff is kind of my thing. I'm very good at it.”

"You can't go in there."

"Oh, I bet I can." 

He bristled. "You can't go in there with me. I won't let you. It's not happening."

"If you go in there," she said sweetly, "I will find every excuse to stand next to you. If you are embarrassed now, I urge you to consider just how embarrassed you'll be if I make a scene."

He stared at her.

She stared right back.

He'd always had a million things to say before. Now he couldn't even think of one. Defeated, he relented. 

"Ok. Let's go in together."

"Wait, what??"

She hadn't expected this response. 

"You win," he said. "Let's go in together. Let's have this last date. We'll look at art. I won't comment on your clothes. After, we'll go back to my place where I'll angrily take them off you. In the morning you break up with me the right way and steal one of my favorite shirts. You suffer for several moons while your hair, which you hastily chopped off just to spite a guy you knew for one moon, grows back. I spend the same amount of time resenting you until I realize you're not worth resenting because you're an insane, petty bitch."

Wow.

Ok.

So he was capable of being interesting while being mean.

This was, in fact, the most interesting he had ever been and she loved it!

She absolutely loved it.

Fuck! 

She grinned. It was genuine. "Ok," she said, taking his arm,"You'll have to point out your favorite shirt to me though. I've only known you a moon. I haven't figured it out yet."

He chuckled ruefully and led her inside, "Of course. I'd hate to make the break up difficult on you, after all."

They would date for several more moons until he eventually broke up with her for being insincere, fickle, teasing, and difficult. She still stole his favorite shirt. And left her burlap dress behind in his closet as a souvenir.

[sodapopsolstice]

Homestuck^2 sucked because none of the trolls actually aged like they were supposed to. Like the humans aged (even though they're MEANT to be immortal and dont give me they're mentally 40+ JOHN NO LONGER FITS IN HIS GOD TIER SUIT HE HAS AGED) but we don't ever see the natural development of the trolls.

Vriska, Aradia and Sollux I can kinda give leeway since they've went through timelines and dreambubbles and double death and half death and yada yada those 3 are kinda fucked up timeline wise so I kinda see why they never aged.

But Terezi, Karkat and Gamzee? No fucking excuse.

Kanaya is a grey area however cause you know she's "Kanaya The Vampire Fashion Queen" but like no credible sources I can find SAY anything about age when it comes to rainbow drinkers and I can't find out if The Dolorosa was actually a rainbow drinker so we don't have a naturally lived rainbow drinker example so I'm just gonna have to assume Kanaya ages like a regular troll.

However, the other 3 have no right to not be ageing. For example, I'm gonna pull up a image of Commander Vantas here:

It's hard to tell with Cmdr. Vantas because THE ONLY TIME WE SEE HIS FACE IS IN HERO MODE OR IN A LIGHTING AND SITTING DOWN anyways. But with what we are given with Cmdr. Vantas he DOES in fact give signs he has aged, not as much as he should of, by this point he should have gotten a good bit taller than the humans and have completely red eyes, but it's better than THIS

what the fuck. Meat Karkat SHOWS NO SIGNS OF AGING AT ALL HE LOOKS THE EXACT SAME AS HE DID WHEN HE WAS 13 WHEN HE IS 20 AT BARE MINIMUM and you may think im overreacting, cause obviously its just his symbolic sprite he doesn't ACTUALLY look like that

You buffoon, you oaf take at look at this. HE ISN'T AGING IN THE SLIGHTEST IN MEAT.

Other than artstyle and change of clothes he looks the fucking same, at this point in HS^2 he should be looking like The Signless but he doesn't even look older than Kankri. But maybe Karkat is a bad example maybe the poor guy has a case of eternal babyface and he's just cursed to look 13 forever.

Let's take a look at Gamzee instead.

There's so little images I could find off sight of Gamzee in hs^2 and I did NOT want to be on that buggy ass website for long so this is the best you're getting. As expected, Gamzee ALSO has a case of chronic babyface and it's especially egregious as he's the descendant of THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD.

Tbh this is actually kinda a good image since we can semi eye measure Vrissy and Gamzee. Of which Gamzee seems imo taller than Vrissy, not in massive hulking beast like GHB but like and adult man to a 15 year old, which would be normal and expected IF HE WASN'T AGAIN THE DESCENDANT OF THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD.

That guy is literally known in fandom for 2 things, being pissed off and being huge, again Gamzee follows the trend of not having the adult troll characteristics of dark grey skin and whilst his horns are red due to being hero mode and we can't see his eyes i think we can assume he probably doesn't have some nice lavender lookers on him.

And there is a reason why I've spent the last 1 or 2 hour complaining about obtuse homestuck lore and it's simple it shows a lack of care.

It shows that Homestuck^2 on the surface is a mediocre at best adaptation of Homestuck but as soon as the thin surface layer is scrapped away, it shows a hollow project, it shows a project that generally proves itself to be a homestuck thing but it doesn't show passion, I could probably right now find you any HS fan and ask them what makes adult trolls different to young trolls and they could probably easily tell me how and why. So why couldn't a whole team of people attempt at the very least, a version like that?

Its little things like the trolls not aging/aging like humans to the damn table to the lack of acknowledgement for already accepted and semi canonised reps of queer culture in favour for rep that punches down to the outright ridiculous swivels in personality that's prove to me at least that HSE and HS^2 were dead on arrival.

[shadowisles-writes]

Heatwave (Part 3) [Elriel]

A/N: I’m a little late for the writing circle but very excited to be posting my first Elriel fic. I’m not used to this ship dynamic so it was super fun to explore! If you haven’t yet, you can read part 1 by @secret-third-thing and part 2 by @starfall-spirit by clicking on the links. You can also find all the works from this writing circle in this masterlist. The fic is also available on AO3 here, and all the works can be found in the ACOTAR Writing Circle 3 collection.

Word count: 2094

.

Elain smiled at the pastel pink decal she had just finished sticking on her window. The beautiful logo Feyre had designed for her was perfect to match the vibes she had wanted for her flower shop. It was printed all over business cards, stamped on tags and on the paper she wrapped her bouquets with.

After a couple of months on the road, she was ready for her new start. Travelling had provided her with a desperately needed break. She had gotten space from her old life, from her family, from everything that had been holding her back.

Elain had used that time for introspection and somewhere along the road managed to make decisions to grasp the life she truly wanted. For now, it looked like an apartment close to her sisters and her own pastel colored flower shop.

And Azriel.

Elain wished she could say she wasn’t settling somewhere because of a man she hardly knew, but she was. Azriel had been a constant in her life even while traveling. She sent him pictures of the places she visited, he replied with pictures of places he’d take her to when she was back in New England.

They talked every day. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for quick check-ins or to reply to a picture the other had sent. Gradually, pictures of the places Elain visited began to be more focused on Elain herself in said places. It didn’t take long for selfies to be exchanged at random times of the day. Elain in ridiculous tourist hats, Azriel at work.

She didn’t really know when they slipped up to pictures in bed. Perhaps they’d been talking too late one evening, and the only selfie Azriel could take was a shirtless one. Elain rarely slept in more than a tank top, and it was all downhill from there.

They hadn’t gotten far, but her hidden folder already included some of those pictures where he was obviously displaying his muscled chest. They weren’t inappropriate per say, but considering the feelings they elicited in Elain, she preferred keeping them out of her regular camera roll.

She could have traveled for another month, maybe more, if it hadn’t been for him. The pull between them had been undeniable from the start. They had been stumbling over their words, hanging out and obviously attracted to each other but too awkward for it to lead to anything. The separation had helped them become more comfortable, and they had fallen into an easy friendship the moment she came back.

Since then, Azriel had been in the shop every day to help her paint and set up for her opening date. Her sisters had stopped by too, but they hadn’t been willing to get their hands dirty.

“It looks beautiful,” Azriel brought Elain back to the present. He stood beside her, admiring the sign they’d been so stressed about sticking on straight.

“Thank you,” she beamed. “For everything, I mean… I could have never done this without your help.”

“Sure you could have,” he smiled. “All I did was tell you there was space available and give you a phone number.”

“Oh, is that all you did?” She raised an eyebrow and turned to face him, her hands on her hips. “How about going to see said space for me while I was traveling to send me the exact measurements and make sure it was suitable for a flower shop?”

“It was no trouble,” Azriel shrugged.

“Uh uh,” Elain continued. “And building all the shelves and stands?”

Another shrug. “I had time to spare.”

“Setting up the counters and sink in the back?”

“I wouldn’t dream of letting a friend do that alone.”

“Yes, because friends is what we are,” Elain’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

That was deserving of a lengthier answer at least. “You’re opening in five minutes, do we need to have this conversation right now?”

Elain felt her heart squeeze. “Are you anticipating it’s going to be a long one?” She asked carefully.

“No.” The lack of hesitation in Azriel’s response helped her settle. “I’m anticipating we’re going to spend a lot of time not talking.”

“Oh,” Elain realized and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Her face burned and she knew she must have been red, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Flip the sign, El.” Azriel nodded to the door. “Today is about you, and your new start here. Tonight we can talk, and not talk, if you’re up for it.”

“It’s a plan.”

Elain turned her newly painted sign so it would show the word “open” to the people on the street and wiped her sweaty hands on her clean apron. She walked around the stand in the middle one last time, checking that every flower was in the right place before she went to stand behind the counter.

Azriel sat on a stool close behind her and surveyed the street through the window. It wasn’t busy with how early it was, but Elain’s heart was still hammering in her chest as she waited for her very first customer.

Her sisters and their husbands had all promised to stop by for the opening; Elain had asked them to wait until the afternoon. She didn’t want her first sale to be to them, she needed a real client, enticed by her window display or whatever else could drive them in.

The shop was silent. They waited five minutes, then ten, then twenty. People walked past on their way to work, too busy on their phones or running to catch a bus to look toward the shop. Minute by minute, Elain’s hope for a successful first day deflated.

She hadn’t expected a crowd, but someone—anyone would have been nice. They didn’t even need to buy, just come in, say hello and maybe something nice about the shop or the arrangements Elain had spent hours making.

“Is it always this quiet?” Elain eventually broke and turned to face Azriel.

“It’s not even nine,” he reminded her. “You’re seeing the working crowd rush past, but the rest will be out soon.”

“I guess,” she nodded. “Do you think I should have put something outside?”

“Do you want me to put on a giant flower costume and go flip a big sign pointing to the shop?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elain rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. The idea of Azriel who was always dressed in black in some ugly flower costume was enough to make her want to laugh again. She knew he’d do it for her—even as a joke—if she really asked. “I’ll just wait.”

“It won’t be long,”

“Sure,” she walked back to the front of the shop to get a better look at the town square. “You don’t have to stay here, by the way. It’s not very exciting right now.”

“It’s your first day, there’s nowhere else for me to be.”

Elain smiled, pretending to detangle the golden pothos that hung in close to the window. “Who knew you’d be so awfully romantic.”

“I’m sitting in a flower shop with a woman in a long pink dress, I figured romance might be your thing.” Azriel tapped his fingers on his thigh, head cocked to the side with a knowing smile.

He wasn’t wrong, but Elain had already learned he was more sensitive than he let on. “Don’t go pretending you’re cold hearted yourself.”

“Definitely not with you.”

She snorted. “You’re getting mushy again.”

“Stop deflecting, El.”

“You’re the one who said we should talk later tonight, now you’re distracting me—” Elain faced him with her fists on her hips. “You’re distracting me.”

“It worked,” Azriel gave her a slightly guilty look, but it was edged with a smile. “Though I can try harder if you’d like.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Will you?” He licked his lips and looked her up and down.

Elain felt a rush of heat blaze beneath her skin. She didn’t move as he got up from his stool, suddenly making them much more aware of the size difference between them. He stalked closer, her eyes fixated on him with every step he took. A predatory grin spread on his face, and Elain would have melted on the spot if it hadn’t been for the gentle chime of the bell she’d installed above the door.

“Good morning!” She slipped into her cheerful persona in an instant, greeting the woman and toddler who were just entering her shop.

Azriel disappeared, silent as he slipped behind the counter and hid in the back of the shop. He was probably eavesdropping to find out if her first customer bought anything, but at least he wouldn’t be a distraction when she needed her focus.

“Hi!” The toddler exclaimed and waved just as the woman said a soft hello.

“If you need advice or help finding anything, don’t hesitate to let me know,” Elain gave her most charming smile and tucked herself behind the counter so her customers wouldn’t feel too watched as they went around the shop.

The woman let go of the child’s hand, letting him walk past plants and bouquets. She gently placed a hand in front of his when he tried to reach for a yellow flower, reminding him that they were fragile and he couldn’t just grab it. Elain smiled at the exchange.

She remembered being young and wanting to pick every pretty flower she found, whether they grew wildly in a field or in a big decorative pot in the middle of a street. Her parents never had that gentleness when scolding her.

“What do you think, this one or this one?” The woman asked from behind the stand, holding two bouquets Elain couldn’t see. The young boy didn’t hesitate and was trusted to carry the bouquet all the way to the counter.

“Thank you,” Elain leaned over to grab it when he held it up as high as his little arms could. “That’s a very good choice.”

It was made of pink peonies, some fern and foliage to make the pastel colors stand out. The bouquet was classic—simple but pretty.

“Did you find everything you needed today?” She began to wrap a pretty pale pink paper around the bouquet and tied it off with a brighter ribbon in matching tones.

“Yes, thank you,” the woman smiled. “This is a beautiful shop, I’ve never seen it before. Did you open recently?”

“Thank you so much, I just opened this morning,” Elain beamed.

“Well we’ll make sure to come by again.” The woman pulled out her credit card as Elain told her what the total was and handed her a card to go with the bouquet in case she wanted to write a note.

“That would be lovely, and oh, hold on a second,” she stepped through the small alcove to the back of the shop, grinning at Azriel who leaned against a wall to wait, and retrieved a yellow flower identical to the one the little boy had reached for.

“Oh,” the woman smiled. “Look at that!”

“This is for you,” Elain went around the counter and bent to the child’s height.

“Thank you,” he gave her a toothy grin as his mother reached for the bouquet she had just bought.

“Thank you,” the woman echoed. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

Elain waited until the door was completely closed to let out an excited squeal. She turned around to find Azriel already close and threw her arms around his neck. His hands rested on her back, pulling her closer as he kissed her temple.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Elain breathed out, still grinning. She pulled out of the hug and shook her hands out excitedly. “God I know it’s just one sale but that felt really good.”

“Step one to the most successful flower shop in the city. I think we’re going to need a celebratory dinner tonight.” Azriel smiled back.

“I agree.” She checked her apron was still in place and glanced towards the door to see if they were still alone. “I can also think of other ways to celebrate after dinner.”

“Enlighten me.”

The chime of the door was just in time to save Elain from the rush of blood that was sure to make her cheeks bright red. Azriel retreated, but she knew he’d continue their conversation the moment they were alone again. The push and pull would go on for the entire day, as if there wasn’t already enough anticipation between them.

Elain would need all of her patience to resist falling right into him before closing time.