#but I have... neglected to tell them to change it

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere batfamily x neglected reader

From the moment you were ten, you had sought their attention like a moth drawn to a flame. But the flame was always too hot, always too far away, and with every desperate attempt to get close, they burned you. You had been a shadow in their world, hovering at the edges of their lives, wanting, needing. Needing. That word, so simple, yet it had been the curse of your existence. You needed them. You needed their time, their care, their love. But they never saw you, never acknowledged the pit of loneliness that gnawed at you every time you begged to be included.

They had brushed you aside, every single time.

The family, your family, was never really yours.

It started when you were just a kid. “Not now, kid,” they would say. Or “Go play somewhere else.” Every time you tried to insert yourself into their lives, they shoved you away, like a toy they’d grown tired of. They didn’t need you. Not when there were bigger things at stake. Not when Gotham was drowning in its own darkness, when the Batcave was filled with the hum of machinery and the rush of adrenaline.

You were just a distraction.

You were nothing.

The words didn’t change as you grew older. They only got sharper.

When you were twelve, you tried again—this time with more subtlety. You offered to help, to be something, anything that would make them notice you. I can be useful, I promise. But no. No, they couldn’t have you tagging along. Not when there were more important things to do, more important people to be with. You were only a child.

By the time you turned fifteen, the bitter reality had set in. You weren’t wanted. You weren’t needed. They were a family—their family—and you? You were the outcast, the inconvenience they only tolerated because they had no choice. They didn’t want you, but they had to keep you around. The occasional glance from Tim, a brief acknowledgment from Dick—enough to keep the illusion of familial love alive, but never enough to make you feel like you mattered.

It wasn’t just Bruce anymore. He had become an empty figure in your life, a distant authority figure who only spoke when there was something to be done. Do this. Do that. Don’t ask questions. That was how you learned to live under his roof—like a shadow. Like a nothing.

There were moments when you thought you might be able to break through. When you thought maybe—just maybe—they would see you for who you were, someone who could stand beside them, shoulder to shoulder, not as a burden but as a part of the family.

But those moments were fleeting. They were crumbs, pieces of hope that you clung to like a starving animal, only for them to be yanked away, leaving you empty once again.

By the time you turned sixteen, you no longer asked. No longer begged. You had learned that your needs were nothing but noise to them. So, you stayed quiet, retreating into the corners of their lives. You were there, but invisible. A ghost that haunted the edges of their family but was never invited to sit at the table.

But it wasn’t just the coldness that broke you. No. It was the sharpness of their words.

The day it all ended—the day your last shred of hope died—had come like a storm.

You were seventeen when you finally broke. You had asked, yet again, for something so simple. You wanted to hang out, to spend the evening together, just for once. No work. No patrols. Just them. Just family. But Dick—always so perfect, so composed—snapped.

“Stop nagging, goddammit!” His voice was low, but the venom was there. The venom that cut deeper than any blade. “I don’t have time for this. You’re not a kid anymore. You should know better.”

And it was in that moment, when the words hit you like fists to your chest, that you knew. It was over. They will never care about you.

No more pleading. No more silence. You were done.

You wanted to scream, to break down and tell him how it felt to always be ignored, to always be pushed aside. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was stare at him, the person you had once looked up to, the brother who had made you feel like you belonged. And now? Now he hated you. He resented you. You were just a thorn in his side, something he couldn’t wait to get rid of.

The Batfamily didn’t need you. They didn’t even want you. You were just a memory in the background of their perfect little world.

And so, you left.

You packed your things and left Gotham without a second thought. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care about them. You didn’t care about the lies you had told yourself for years, that someday they would come to love you. No. You were done.

You found a small apartment in a city far, far away. The rent was cheap. The food was okay. It didn’t matter. For the first time in years, you felt a strange kind of peace. No more begging. No more hoping for something that was never going to come.

But the peace didn’t last long. It never does.

Months passed, and the Batfamily went on without you. It wasn’t like you expected them to notice, but they did. They always did.

It started slowly at first. A message from Bruce, terse and businesslike, asking how you were. A phone call from Dick, his voice hesitant, full of uncertainty. Tim sent an email—just a few lines, but still. He’d written “We miss you.”

You didn’t respond. The first few days, you let it sit there, those words ringing in your ears. We miss you. The words came so easily now, but where had they been all those years? You stared at the screen, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. Miss you? They had pushed you aside when you needed them most. They had ignored you, told you to shut up, told you to go away.

Now they missed you?

You threw your phone across the room and sat down, gripping your hair, letting the quiet take you over.

It wasn’t until the second month that they started to call. At first, it was Tim—his voice softer than it had been in years, like a penitent ghost, when he called you.

“Please… just talk to us. We’re… we’re worried about you.”

You didn’t pick up.

Then, Dick. His voice cracked when he asked if you were okay. Just talk to us. How many times had you told them that? How many times had you begged? And now, they were begging you? You felt the rage swell inside you, the bitterness of those years threatening to break you apart.

And that was when they came.

It wasn’t just a phone call. It wasn’t just messages anymore. They came looking for you.

Nightwing was the first. He showed up at your door, standing there in his familiar suit, but his smile was tight, his eyes uncertain.

“Please,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “We just want to talk.”

You stared at him, the same person who had once smiled at you like you meant the world to him. And now? Now he looked like a stranger. Someone who didn’t know who you were. And maybe, in a way, he didn’t.

“Why?” you asked, your voice rough from months of silence. “Why now? Where were you when I needed you?”

The guilt in his eyes only deepened. “We were wrong,” he said, the words fragile, like he was afraid they would break if spoken too loudly. “We… we miss you.”

The anger rose in your chest. They missed you?

The words sounded so hollow. What good was their love now?

They all came. One by one, each member of the family arrived at your door, apologizing, begging for forgiveness, for your attention, your love.

But it was too late.

They had pushed you away for too long, and now you could feel it: the suffocating weight of their regret, the twisting hunger of their need.

They needed you. They needed you so badly. They would never let you go again.

It wasn’t just about family anymore. It wasn’t just about reconciliation. Now, it was about possession.

And the family would do whatever it took to keep you close—no matter the cost.

Gotham had never felt farther away, yet the shadows of the family loomed larger than ever.

You weren’t sure if you were ready to go back, to reopen that door. But deep down, you knew one thing.

They would never let you leave again.

And now?

Now, they were willing to do anything to make sure of it.

(A/n: no part 2 becuz it's a one shot 😸)

[something-wild-calls]

Modded by @loupy-mongoose.

Jamie Wild was a character originally created as a trainersona more than a decade ago, who gradually evolved into a character all her own and ended up the protagonist of a yet-unpublished Soul Silver Nuzlocke called Shadowed Soul. In recent years, after these many years of building her character and the Pokemon world around her, I've been wanting to make her completely my own, world and all.

Someday I still hope to tell her Nuzlocke story and keep up with her in the Linden Roots world, but here I will be giving an alternate version of that story--Some elements will remain the same or minimally changed, while some changes will be drastic. So both stories will hold their own merit, when comes time to tell them both. :>

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Asks Notice:

I'm having the inbox open only so that people can ask about specific curiosities, and allow for prompt inspiration. This is not an interaction or Role Play blog! I won't say it's impossible, but any asks worded as such will likely not be answered as such, and may not be answered at all. That being said, I do reserve the right to answer as I see fit. XD

For now I will leave anonymous available, but I will turn it off if anyone chooses to act in ill-will or with weird intentions.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some notes about this story:

-The setting is the same world as my other story The Matters of Life and Death. So some things, such as staffwyrms and the way magic works, is the same between stories.

-I currently plan to tell it in a slice-of-life manner, probably through mixed means of comic, artworks, answered asks, and potentially writings.

-My aim with this blog and story is to have fun above all else! It's something I feel I shouldn't have to say, but at the same time I also feel I've lost touch with that particular motive. So I'm hoping to remind myself that my art and stories are mine, and are for my entertainment first and foremost.

For those interested in this old tale being made new, welcome! I hope you enjoy the journey! ^w^

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Content warnings under the Read More (To save space.)

WARNINGS LIST FOR THIS BLOG (Subject to updates)

DEATH INJURY/BLOOD VIOLENCE SPIRITUAL/SOUL DISCUSSION. (Not really in a Christian sense, but I'll try to tag it as such if it gets too close.) CHILD ABUSE CHILD NEGLECT CHILD INJURY/ENDANGERMENT CHILD ABANDONMENT

Related Tags to mute if desired:

#TW: Death -- #TW: Injury -- #TW: implied injury -- #TW: Blood -- #TW: Violence -- #TW: Christianity (If it comes up, but I don't expect it to.) -- #TW: Child Abuse -- #TW: Child Neglect -- #TW: Child injury -- #TW: Child Endangerment -- #TW: Child Abandonment

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Rollo Flamme: A Heart's Warmth

Hello ♡ So I've never written for Rollo before, but I got this cute idea for him that I thought would be fun to write. Hopefully you guys like it! Enjoy ♡

Glances and hesitation, walking side by side. The air is cold, yet he feels warm, much too warm as your shoulders brush. He had warned you of the chill coming, weather growing colder as the seasons changed. Yet you didn't listen, neglecting to wear suitable clothes. Where was your winter jacket? Where were your gloves? He should have sent you home, should have told you to come back once you were better dressed. But the way your eyes lit up as you met, coming towards him as if he was something to look forward to… he found the words wouldn't leave his mouth, stuck like his eyes, glued to your features. Do you glance at everyone with that smile, with eyes that shine in adoration?

He turns away when it gets to be too much, unable to meet your stare for long. You were bright, much too bright to linger on, your voice ringing in his ears like chimes. Did you really enjoy his company that much? Speaking to him with such joy, with care meant for those close. Even now he can see you shiver, ill prepared for the day ahead. Was it worth it? Did time with him mean so much?

... He would prefer if you took care of yourself, especially if it involves him, unwilling to allow you to use this outing as excuse. He tells you as much, reminding you to dress appropriately next time, and confirming you had the necessary clothes. If you have gloves, wear them. If you have a winter coat, wear it. You're only going to get sick if you don't... (and that's the last thing he wanted, watching as you tried to hide another shiver).

Your shoulders brush again, causing him to look between you as your hands touch. While he wore gloves, your hands were bare, exposed to the elements. He knew you must have been uncomfortable, the temperature continuing to drop. Perhaps he could... no, he couldn't possibly, shaking his head at the thought. There was no way he could-

And then your hands touch again, shoulders brushing once more as he starts to reconsider. Perhaps he could... his hands starting to shake as he contemplates the idea. With how close you were, he could always make it seem like an accident, waiting until your shoulders brush once more. When the moment doesn't come his eyes narrow in frustration, working up the nerve to put his plan into motion.

"Dress more appropriately next time..." He reminds you again, his hand shaking as it slowly moves closer to yours. When your hands touch he moves away quick, as if burned, before trying again.

"The last thing you need is to get sick." He finishes, turning away as your hands touch once more. You can feel him shake as his pinky moves to hold yours, the warmth of his wool gloves feeling good against your skin. It wasn't much, more of a subtle warmth really, but your chest burned, knowing how much he cared ♡

Hopefully this was good for my first time writing him lol ♡

Thank you! ♡

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Sensitive.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Words count: 1300 (more or less, I added something just before posting it)

Warning: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You make Frankie come just by playing with his nipples. That’s it, that’s the fic LOL

Tags: pov second person, reader has breasts, nipples and hair, no other description of her is given, pwp, nipples play (YAS we play with the man’s nipples wooo), ice cubes, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), established relationship, dick pronouns for @sp00kymulderr’s challenge, kissing, Frankie obviously has a huge cock, I think it’s all? Let me know if I missed something and I will add it right away.

A/N: I've been wanting to do this for a while now because I'm a big fan of nipples (gender neutral, folks, we don't discriminate here, I can love a variety of them) and those Pedro pics yesterday uhm…inspired me lol English is not my first language, I have no beta, any mistakes are my fault, I’m so very sorry 💀

I also did it because every time I use the translator to check my English, whenever I type something nipples related, the translator always uses she/her and it pisses me off.

I hope it's not cringe, if it sucks pretend you've never read it, please, I love you all bye.

I started a tag list, let me know if you want to be added, thanks so much!

Frankie has sensitive nipples.

You discovered this by accident, while you were in bed together after he had fucked you like a god. Your hand wandered over his chest and brushed against his areola. Frankie fidgeted, tried not to show it but the involuntary flinching of his body spoke for him.

He kissed you right after just before you could ask anything so you didn’t investigate any further but you were so intrigued by it. You kept thinking about the way he squirmed under your touch for days and craved to do something more for him.

You have a thing for nipples. For his especially.

Both because you love him and because they are delicious. You also don't like the fact that yours get all the attention while his have always remained two neglected little buttons on his chest while you’re pretty sure you could make good use of them.

Tonight is the time to change that, at least to try.

As you kiss on your couch his hands instantly fly to your tits, he massages them, squeezes them and as much as what he's doing drives you crazy you keep thinking that you would like to do something for him.

“Frankie” you breathe between kisses and and he whispers on your lips “what, honey?”

“Nothing… it’s just…”

“What?” he interrupts you “did I do something wrong?”

You smile in front of his worried eyes “no, you’re perfect, really. I just…” you hesitate but in the end you spit it out “I would love to try something new”

Frankie smirks under his mustache “uh, what’s in that scrumptious little head of yours?”

You giggle, feeling your courage grow as you slowly run a hand over his chest still covered by his shirt, starting from his neck, down his collarbones and then his pectorals.

“I would like… uhm… I would like to play a little game”

Frankie’s eyes sparkle with curiosity mixed with excitement “you know I like games”

“Okay, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, baby” he says right away, brushing your arm gently and looking you sweetly in the eyes.

“Let’s go to bedroom then”

You stop in the kitchen to get some ice cubes that you put in a glass as he watches you, still confused but definitely aroused “What are those for?”

“You'll find out soon enough” you take him by the hand grinning, lead him towards your room which has now become yours and you have him stand in front of the bed.

“Take off your shirt” you order him “and your jeans”

“I already like that,” he chuckles.

“Lie down,” you tell him soon after, playfully pressing a hand to the center of his chest.

You place the glass on the bedside table and undress, remaining only in your underwear while he cranes his neck to look at you and licks his lips full of anticipation.

“My favorite view…” he whispers and you giggle, crouching on the bed right next to him “Now listen to me, you can’t touch me but I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Frankie sighs “okay”

“Can you behave for me?” you raise an eyebrow watching him ironically.

Frankie lets out a more convinced “yes” and you praise him “such a good boy for me”

You brush your fingertips over his chest again, going down over his sternum, then over his stomach and belly, stroking the thin strip of hair that disappears into his boxers. "I think he'll like this," you whisper, watching his half-erection rose from beneath the fabric.

“He’s looking forward to it” he nods with a crooked smile.

Of course he expects you to touch him right there, but your hand goes back up letting a little protest leave his lips.

You stop on one of his nipples and your fingers graze all around the areola.

Frankie squirms, widening his eyes, mouth agape “oh fuck, is that what you want to do?”

You purr “exactly. Can I go on?”

Frankie swallows air, his Adam's apple pops in his throat, then murmurs, “Go ahead.”

“Shall we bet he will come untouched?” You suggest.

“We’ll see. Don’t make him wait further, gorgeous, do your thing” he urges you.

You begin to caress his skin, moving closer and closer, Frankie watches you mesmerized as you feel his body tense under your fingers.

You rub his areola again and then pinch his nipple. He gasps loudly “Oh fuck”

“Everything okay?” You murmur.

He frowns noticeably and nudges “yes.”

You alternate between pinching and rubbing, feeling his breathing get heavy and shorter as his cock swells under his boxers. You shift only long enough to pull them down and expose his huge engorged dick to your view.

“So much better” you purr “I need to see him”

You return to your seat beside him and remove your bra, smiling mischievously at him. Frankie tries to raise his hand to reach out to feel you but you rebuke him, " Hey, no! You can look, but don't touch, remember?”

He blurts out, “That's not fair,” and you chuckle, “I feel like he's doing just fine anyway. The best boy," you tease him.

You take an ice cube and pass it over your lips, you suck on it lightly and small drops of water slide down your chin, you place it back into the glass as Frankie lets out a needy moan. His pupils are dilated and his lower lip quivers slightly, he is absolutely delicious.

You reach down and your nipples brush against him, “You can feel them like that, can't you?”

He sighs “yeah…okay”

You stick your cold tongue out and run it over his and he groans “oh baby”

You eye his cock rise higher and higher until it comes flapping against his tummy, hard and swollen and its pre cum begins to drip from the tip along its length.

Your tongue circles his nipple, again and again, then you flick it and you nibble it lightly and Frankie's back arches as he gasps, "Holy fuck, baby, you're killing me."

Your mouth and ice-cold lips stir all his nerve endings just as you expected.

You smile pleasantly impressed against his skin ”you like that, huh?”

“God, yes” he breathes “fuck”

He groans loudly when you detached, taking an ice cube again and sucking it between your lips, then lean over his chest to reach the other nipple as you continue to rub the other with your fingertips.

His chest rises and falls faster and faster as your tongue strikes sharply and precisely, your other hand resting on his arm to steady you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please I’m so close” he whimpers “fuck - just like that baby”

You continue until his cock is on the verge of bursting, then you move your hand to take it and finish him off.

“Come for me, Frankie, come on” you urge him “Give it all to me, baby” just like he does every time he’s in control and his response is immediate, he comes in your palm after a few strokes, long streaks of sticky cum painting your hands and his tummy as he whines.

You get between his legs to suck him clean, welcoming his cock between your lips and giving him what he wanted from the beginning after what he didn’t know he needed.

You suck him until he softens and then you lie in his arms, quietly enjoying his warmth. He is the first to break the silence, after kissing your nose and your forehead "damn, baby, you knocked me out"

You lift your gaze to his and smile "you didn't imagine that huh?"

"He didn't imagine it either," Frankie laughs.

"I told you he would like it" Frankie caresses your cheek and you reach out to kiss him, his taste still on your lips. "next time you play with mine while I play with yours" you coo.

He retorts, “just give me some time to rest and I’ll show you right away”

Thank for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away ♥️

[tamilhobbit]

Rewatched Dead Men Tell No Tales/Salazar's Revenge today and boy, was it a disappointment. Absolute low point of the franchise. Genuinely surprised that the original writers were involved.

On Stranger Tides shows a much softer side of Jack but it's still pretty consistent with the choices he made in the original trilogy, and he has quite a lot of agency in the plot. The film lacks the clever cinematography of the original trilogy but it's still pleasant to watch. The night combat scenes are clearly lit, even if the combat itself isn't as gripping. The plot is weak, but entertaining enough. Not as good as the first three, but not bad.

Dead Men Tell No Tales is just awful. For one thing, it isn't even consistent with the previous films in terms of lore. The trilogy establishes, in DMC, that Jack bartered the compass from Tia Dalma. Here, in a flashback, he gets it from his old captain on the Wicked Wench while fighting Salazar?

Also, there is no damn reason for Will to even be cursed, which is what kicks off the plot. The only reason Davy Jones and crew were fish people was that he neglected his duty of ferrying souls. Will knows this. He knows the cost. He wants to be with Elizabeth every ten years. He would not neglect his duty. There is no inherent turning-into-a-monster curse tied into his role as captain of the Dutchman, and at the end of At World's End we see him returning after ten years, looking perfectly human and normal. Why would he suddenly be cursed after that?

Jack has literally no agency in this film. He achieves nothing and makes no difference to the plot! Henry is the one executing the daring rescue. Carina navigates. Barbossa does the double-crossing and also captains the Pearl. Jack has a fight with Salazar at some point but it's at night, poorly lit, and again achieves very little. Nothing has changed at the end of their fight. None of those clever acrobatics that cripple his pursuers we saw in previous films. The flashback to young Jack was cool, I guess. But his total lack of care when he thinks the Black Pearl has sunk is horrifically out of character.

Again, at the end, he's just sort of... there. He is an object for Salazar to pursue, a distraction while Henry and Carina achieve their objectives and Barbossa redeems himself.

Barbossa has a nice arc, though I think the daughter twist is rushed in order to make us feel sadder when he sacrifices himself. And I quite like Carina. There's clearly been an attempt to place Henry and Carina in the places of Will and Elizabeth, and they've tried to make Carina feisty and driven but in a different direction than Elizabeth, which I appreciate. She and Henry fall for each other very fast, though.

Also, I hate that Elizabeth is apparently dressed nicely and sitting pretty in her beach house, waiting and doing nothing. If she knew that Will was cursed, why would she not be out there doing everything she can to save him? She's the freaking Pirate King. She could not be held back in the trilogy. She's not old, either - she was fairly young when she had Henry, and Henry is clearly old enough to fend for himself now. They could have gone looking for ways to save Will together.

In many ways Dead Men Tell No Tales is just Dead Man's Chest disappointingly remixed - undead crew on a destructive cursed ship with special abilities, led by a captain who can't step on land and has a grudge against Jack Sparrow, controlling horrid sea creatures. A POC witch embodying all sorts of racist caricatures. A Turner seeking a way to free his cursed father, and in love with a feisty girl. Everyone searching for a magical McGuffin that will give them control or mastery of the seas, and they need Jack's compass for it.

It's especially egregiously disappointing after how good the original trilogy was. The plot in those certainly wasn't perfect, but it was tight enough and fast-paced and entertaining enough that you didn't care. The stakes were high, the villains were chilling, and the protagonists were cheekily morally ambiguous in their swashbuckling. The cinematography was stunning. The only real good things about this instalment were the music (which was reused from the previous films) and seeing Will and Elizabeth again.

Comments on Pirates of the Caribbean

So, I rewatch the first one after years bc I was sick by the Johnny Depp bullshit and through his presence would ruin the movie for me, thankfully, it didn't.

- Why don't they make blockbusters like this anymore? The scale of the production, everything feels so real, so damn good. They only used CGI when they needed it.

-Now I noticed that Elizabeth, Will and Jack have "friendship" matching scars, as all the three of them have a long cut on the palm of their hand.

-When Barbossa is about to cut Elizabeth, thinking her blood is the one they needed, instead of cutting her throat (something that was expected of him) he just cut her hand and when even Elizabeth looked confused at him, he says "waste not"

At first I thought that he was being nice, like there's no need to kill her, and this being a Disney movie really makes me think that. But now I get it, he wasn't being nice, he was being a nightmare as he only didn't kill her bc he was planning on SA her as soon as the curse was off. That's dark.

And it's weirdly nice to see how their relationship goes from this nightmare, to Barbossa not only actually respecting and acknowledge Elizabeth as one of them, but also with Elizabeth asking him to marry her with Will. It's like they became buddies at the end, almost lol

-People often praise only Johnny Depp for the success of the trilogy, and yes, he was good I got to admit but he wasn't the sole reason of the movies success. The proof of that is that after Worlds End, the movies went down in quality and will not pretend that the writing and production didn't go down either but the thing is that the characters also were not near as charming, charismatic and just as good as Elizabeth, Will, Barbossa, Davy Jones the crew guys...Jack Sparrow is good but he needs good company to truly shine. And the chemistry they all had towards each other plays a big part in the trilogy success. Jack Sparrow is amazing, but only when he isn't the protagonist.

Edit 1: I've saw the second and third ones again today and damn Hans Zimmer was inspired, the Davy Jones theme is the Best villain theme song (sorry Darth Vader)

At world's end, who also is the Will and Elizabeth theme(with some minor changes) is so good. It's not only good, it's a masterpiece. One of my fav original movie songs ever.

-Elizabeth arc is so well done. From damsel in distress, to pirate, to pirate queen. And it was natural, didn't feel forced at all. Even when she was damsel in distress, she wasn't helpless. In the first movie, after the ship battle, she launched herself at Barbossa , to punch in bc she thought Will was gone. She was always fierce.

And now in the second and third movie when she already knew how to fight...she became a menace.

-And Elizabeth lost her dad, her friend and the love of her life in like, just a few days. Damn. And all of the men she kissed, died lol. Jack, Norrington, Sao Feng and Will, and they all die right after kissing her. I bet she has some sort of "black widow" reputation among the sailors

-Jack really cared for both Elizabeth and Will, and we can see it in the scene when he told Elizabeth that her father was gone and when Davy Jones killed Will. And it makes sense cuz Jack was important in their journey from day one, and he saw their growth from naive young adults to pirates.

-Without a doubt, one of the best trilogies we have.

[lettersregardingjeeves]

My Man Jeeves vs. Carry On, Jeeves: A Choice On the Basis of Charm

So as I was having a go at putting the letters together with Mr. Wooster, I realized that the versions of the early New York saga on Standard eBooks, where I sourced the text, were taken from the 1919 collection My Man Jeeves, rather than Carry On, Jeeves - the latter being how I presume the majority of fans read the stories. Naturally, I figured that I really ought to get the most recent public domain versions of the stories, to best represent the current nature of the series. So I had a look at Carry On, Jeeves, curious about the differences therein. And the ones I found were... kind of disappointing.

So, if you haven't read the stories, or just aren't bally interested, then I'll just say that I think the versions present in My Man Jeeves are an awful lot more fun than their rewrites, and am making the executive decision as Woosterian Substack Secretary to use the old instead of the new. For those who are bally interested, I'll chat a bit more under the cut.

All in all, the differences aren't extreme. None of the plot elements have changed, most of the lines haven't changed, and really, if you know one version of the story, you won't have trouble conversing with someone who knows the other. But I find the changes made in the nature of baffling. Some are very tiny changes, but odd nonetheless. Here's Bicky in "Hard-Boiled Egg", talking about why he doesn't want to go in for ranching, in the original My Man Jeeves.

And here's the same passage in Carry On, Jeeves.

Why cut the line about Bicky hating horses because they bite? It gives a more interesting context to why he doesn't want to ranch than the one in Carry On, Jeeves. He doesn't just not want to do the work out of laziness - he's afraid of horses! It's an unexpected and interesting thing for him to say, and it builds a sort of unique speech pattern of short, snappy sentences that fire one after another. It's such a tiny thing that I'm not even sure why it was deemed necessary to cut, unless there were length requirements, but it sands Bicky down a bit.

However, some of the other changes are much more considerable. Take the intro to "The Aunt and the Sluggard" in My Man Jeeves...

...and compare it to the intro in Carry On, Jeeves.

Not even close! What possessed anyone - Wodehouse or editors - to make this sort of cut? On some level I suppose I could understand it if it were purely for the sake of not needing to introduce the character partway through a book, when you'd certainly need to in a magazine, but clearly My Man Jeeves didn't see a problem with having Bertie repeatedly introduce Jeeves this way - and as a reader, neither did I! It's a very charming paragraph full of Bertieisms, and the nervous sort of hesitation upon wishing to call him a friend is even more endearing. Sure, the "guide, philosopher, and friend" quote is later used in the first chapter of 1923's The Inimitable Jeeves, so I can see why Wodehouse and/or editors might have thought the sentiment too repetitive to stick in a collection published afterwards, but the two are subtly different. Here, Bertie is unsure that he can call Jeeves a friend, but in The Inimitable Jeeves below, he says it with surety.

It's especially sweet with the knowledge that My Man Jeeves was published before The Inimitable Jeeves, because that shows this as growth! He's more willing to let himself acknowledge their friendship, and that's a wonderful thing! And even without that linearity, it's just so much weaker of a start. You aren't as drawn in by the significant blander intro as you are by the acquainted birds of poet Johnnies, or the "guide, don't you know" that Bertie relies on at every turn. It's more conversational, engaging, and just plain fun.

But that's not even really the most egregious removal. No, the biggest difference is the excising of the entire intro to "Leave It to Jeeves".

This whole section, which later segues into a sum-up of the events of "Extricating Young Gussie" and a description of New York, is just plain gone in "The Artistic Career of Corky", which this story has been renamed in Carry On, Jeeves. No "Melonsquashville, Tennesee", no horses named Banana Fritter, no Bertie trying to give Jeeves racing tips because he's fond of him. It's peak Bertie silliness, and I remember that I really loved reading it. And yes, again, maybe it was cut just because it follows "Jeeves Takes Charge", which already introduces the character, but I certainly don't see a reason why none of it could be kept - especially since the conceit of the series tends to read as if being told aloud to someone else, and thus it makes sense to repeatedly introduce the character in such a way to new listeners and audiences. Instead, we are given this by way of introduction.

This goes straight into the "Gussie" sum-up and the description of New York, as well as the subsequent description of Corky. All that fun before, reduced to a paltry bit of introductory exposition before the exposition that already happened in the original. Was it cut merely for length? Why else could this possibly have happened? Why remove all that delightful humor and prose in favor of something so much weaker and less interesting? It boggles the mind - boggles it.

In short, I've decided to keep the My Man Jeeves versions of these stories as they are. While some of the changes I saw weren't bad - saying that Rocky's poem went on for "three more verses" got a chuckle out of me, I will say, and the connective tissue with the other stories wasn't bad, either - it was not enough to sacrifice all this. Bertie's narration is always a delight, and I think that delight should be preserved. But if anyone has rebuttals as to why they think the Carry On, Jeeves versions should be used instead, I'd honestly love to hear them!

Thank you for reading!

[sammygender]

wrt dean hitting sam and how its obviously something with an established history of happening from the way sam acts about it (‘you satisfied?.. guess not’ ‘take a swing’ etc). i personally think this has been a pattern in their life pretty much forever. wait i ended up saying way more in the tags im gonan make another post i think

[mars-ipan]

ok quick little rendition of a 60s wives bc i saw this vintage ad and couldn't Not

the ad in question:

[gloomybadger4life]

Azula inadvertently begins a working class revolution because she challenges all suitors to an agni kai and raises the stakes.

Zuko is running out of nobles and disgruntled common folk take that as an opportunity to rise up and take over some provinces.

Half the cabinet wants to send in the army but they also know how bad it's gonna look, you know, internationally.

Azula catches on and thinks it's hilarious. She issues challenges to any and all firebending nobles.

Even if she loses Zuzu is fucked and she has the last laugh.

Zuko changes the law so that Katara can fight her and stop her. He does not realize the implication.

Katara and Azula have a masterful and impressive duel that goes on for hours. They both end up exhausted but refuse to call it a draw.

So they fight the next day, and every day after because neither is giving ground.

By the 12th match Zuko is like: just bloodbend her.

Katara: i tried but she can shoot lightning from her mouth and I can't get a grip.

Azula, now with growing respect towards Katara: In all fairness if the duel was at night, she might win.

So they agree and they fight at midnight.

Katara wins, barely and not without half her body being stunned by electricity.

Azula just asks her when she should propose.

Katara has the realization that Zuko neglected to mention that fact. She goes off on Zuko.

Azula laughs the hardest she has in years. She asks Katara to talk.

Azula: So I wanna apologize to you, for the whole trying to kill you to force Zuzu into a corner. And the whole war thing. I should have practiced this.

Katara: wait what?

Azula: Is it one big apology or does it need to be itemized?

Katara: ...

Azula: I'm also sorry for killing the avatar.

Katara: So you're actually sorry. Like for real regret it.

Azula: Yes.

Katara: why?

Azula: Because the war made no sense. I believed in it when i was younger. I was taught to. It was rewarded. Iroh lost a son. Zuzu got banished. One way or another something pushed them away from the nation's influence. I didn't have anything like that.

Katara, shooketh: What are you trying to say?

Azula: that I am what Zuzu was supposed to be. What any of us would have become if we were raised that way. I didn't begin to question it until i was defeated.

Katara: So, what now?

Azula: Don't worry about the marriage thing, I'll handle it. Not in any bad way... Do I always sound like I'm threatening someone?

Katara: Uh yeah, all the time. Last night you grabbed a tray of mochis and told them you were going to consume them.

Azula: You give sea prunes the same look.

Katara: Okay fair, but back to you not being all evil anymore...

Azula: I'll help Zuzu tidy up, make sure he gets the glory. He's gonna need the public's approval, half the nobles have disgraced heirs, the other half are scared.

Katara: and all of this because you didn't want to marry some guy you could have easily killed after.

Azula: I didn't wanna marry a guy, first of all. And secondly, assasination like that is such a hassle. Plus poisons were my mother's thing...

Katara: wait what?

Azula: Zuzu didn't tell you, she poisoned Azulon because Ozai tried to skip over Iroh when he lost my cousin. Azulon ordered Zuko's death.

Katara: Is your whole family this fucked up?

Azula: Yes. I thought that was established.

So they actually start to bond while Zuko goes on a tour to garner public goodwill.

Aang comes in. Azula apologizes awkwardly.

Toph finds the whole thing hilarious and asks Katara if she likes Azula.

Katara is like, I mean she's really weird but it makes sense and she's making a lot of progress not being evil. Cue an hour of gushing.

Azula meanwhile realizes that if she gives up her title the whole marriage thing goes away. She abdicates the title and tells Katara.

Toph: So you didn't wanna marry Katara?

Azula: Not like this.

Azula realizes what she just blurted that out and runs off. She runs face first into Katara and apologizes. Katara is all weirded out bc this isn't regular Azula behavior.

They do have a conversation about her abdicating. Katara is surprised and opens up more. Azula asks her how she doesn't have vengeful feelings about the fire nation.

They have a heart to heart and end up talking all day.

Eventually Katara and Toph head home and Azula asks if she can send Katara letters...

What if Zuko tried putting Azula in an arranged marriage? What would be his motivation and her reaction?

I can easily see his motive being getting her out of the line of succession if he doesn't trust her at all. Now as far as Azula's reaction goes, she'd more than likely be pissed off and would try to find a way out of it.

[bohemian-nights]

Keep in mind this how Nettles is depicted in the book and in the lore🙃

[space-specs]

Dick Grayson 🤝 Roy Harper

Sidekicks successfully able to move beyond their mentor and more well-known for their own individual vigilante identity now.

Stephanie Brown 🤝 Bart Allen

Original heroes that carried a couple legacy names before going back to their own unique hero names.

Tim Drake 🤝 Conner Kent

Stuck in the same name retelling the same stories and unable to fully grow as a character because DC can't seem to give them their own unique identities that would allow them to move on past this narrow idea of their characters.

[brawlqueen]

triggers: implied abuse, implied neglect.

PERSONALS DNI.

Mizuki route we’re in it now it gives so much subtext / context to Mizuki’s feelings you only truly get here, all of it. Mizuki fully knowing what a family can be, Mizuki grappling with loyalty to her abusive/ toxic family while realizing her family in Date, her truest sense is him, and finally breaking down? Not shying from how much pain no person should bear but she has? And she’s 12 but not diminishing her for it. All of it is laid on the table. It doesn’t shirk away. Personally, it shouldn’t. Mizuki is a fighter and capable of such vulnerability and so, so human.

How she doesn’t stop loving her biological family but recognizes they couldn’t be a healthy family when so much of her route she was in denial and a mixture of acceptance. And then finally that little step in Date’s Somnium Mizuki takes, not him, for herself, to choose him and run towards that ridiculous detective and not him convince her to grasp a healthier environment.. but Mizuki came to the conclusion of her own choice.

And she’ll never forget being an Okiura. A part of her always will be! It’s part of her, erasing that would be wrong. Good and bad things happen, even unspeakable things. It’s still possible in someone’s life. And in the beginning there are implications that things didn’t get to that horrifying point! Still not ideal, but a few precious memories .

Good, bad, traumatic feelings and indescribable feelings… she won’t stop loving them. But she is going to continue her life. She chose to, and that little step changed her life for the better by her own volition. She needs for her sake, to learn herself.

Just one little step but it created the Date family: “ It has to be you.” And Mizuki Date is born, without letting go of Mizuki Okiura. BOTH exist. One is her past to carry, the other her future to grow.

Mizuki chose how she wanted her family to be like, an ordinary family, and how to be treated, not Date, even if his love for her did so much, and I feel I’m going to be writing so many essay like analysis on them and their relationship because it's so crucial to both of them. So much I want to delve into beforehand also and handle it with care, as the topics deserve.

Just.. Mizuki .

[leieryx]

ahug shoot I gotta put lore in the tags again

[toytulini]

Its just. a truck. a shit ass truck, that sucks shit more than any other trucks on the road rn, which is impressive considering how bad modern trucks are. definitely not a sedan. not a van, its not a hatchback, its not an suv. It's got a bed for sure, even if its covered, they sell ? pickups with covered beds, or covers to put over the bed of a pickup you already own, to protect the bed. these exist. they dont turn the truck into a sedan or a van or an suv. Its just a extraordinarily shitty truck. It is a truck that sucks worse than any other truck you can buy rn which, as a truck hater, and a hater of cars made after like, 20teens at the latest, who thinks all trucks are disgusting and awful, is already a low bar. I'm not sure I get what we're doing here. Its just a truck that sucks. theres plenty of shit about it to make fun of it for relentlessly, theres no shortage of material here, you dont need to disparage the good name of any other these other vehicles, especially not a sedan, our last bastion left in usamerica against the ever encroaching light truck category taking over completely, since compacts and sub-compacts arent really available here anymore, not new models anyway.

Its a bad shitty truck, that is designed to live exclusively in the mildest, dryest, of climates with no weather at all, with a dedicated garage, and never do anything more strenuous than transport groceries for a single generic cishet nuclear family with 2.5 kids.

wait a sec. the cybertruck aint even a truck. it aint even a van, there's only the two rows of seating. mf's a sedan with angles

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”

You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.

“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.

Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”

“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”

No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.

Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”

You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.

“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.

“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.

“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.

“Liar.”

For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.

“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.

“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”

“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.

“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.

“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”

Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”

He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.

Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.

That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.

Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”

“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”

Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”

“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”

“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.

“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”

Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.

“Baby.”

Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.

“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.

“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”

And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.

[earthtooz]

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.