#but thanks to how I have my con-world calendar set up

[capseisen]

Before AAPI Heritage Month ends, it's time to post a little bit of Mili/Mikki [ji/xer], since a. xer in-universe birthday is in September and b. ji had thrown me into a Tagalog/Filipino hyper-fixation loop for over 3 months now.

Ji likes trains. 🚊

While writing a supplementary story for the second main story I had finished in February, I fell into the largest rabbit-hole on Philippine culture that I'm still not out of. I'm currently stuck listening to OPM and trying to learn Tagalog independently as I develop the culture that Mikki comes from: an indigenous culture that lives on the bay, called Raynes [or Republika ng Tagalook].

Shifting around a culture to fit within a new geological context isn't easy, I will say. It pained me to deduct eggs from their diet, since eggs aren't consumed in their region due to the lack of livestock, but they still have an abundant fishing culture at least.

Because Tethysia [the region Raynes is in] borders Titania, they still have some Spanish influence thanks to Platina, Titania's largest and most artificial technologically-advanced* country. Since they're the closest civilization to Titania, their language has Čeloñol [auxlang Spanish] injections in it.

As for Mikki? Mikki's a vehicle enthusiast with an extensive sign collection, road-themed decor, and a permanent shame associated with assimilating to the standards of a culture that isn't xers :)

Ingat po kayo! 👋🏽

[lexiasmind]

The Compromise. I

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Wealthy CEO, Steve Rogers is a businessman before everything. All he ever wanted is to be the best, richest and smartest, owning all the finest companies. His priority: be better in affairs than his father.

But when a huge opportunity is offered to him, Steve would do anything in his power to seize it. And he’s ready to make a sweet and dangerous deal with you. Even though you are not willing to make a compromise with him.

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage? AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST (i’m sorry) & SMUT (explicit sexual content) +18. Breeding Kink - sort of... Non-Con & Dub-Con. Mentions of Political Marriage. Mentions of Relationship/Marriage of Convenience. Swearing.

Here it is. One of my favorite story. Hopefully you will enjoyed it too. As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback. (sorry for the layout at then, bugs from Tumblr)

A lots of Love! Lex!xxx

P.S: Gif is not mine, credits to the owner and maker.

WORDS.2942ish.

°°°

Being the assistant of the wealthy, arrogant, sexy Steve Rogers has its perks. Your income was very high so you could buy anything you ever wanted. You could use his name anytime you wished to impress your relatives, or friends when they were visiting you for booking the best tables in the greatest and luxurious restaurants in Manhattan. And, one of the greatest benefits of them all was that you could have the best sex you ever had with this gorgeous man. It was one of his “arrangements“ with you. Every once in a while, Steve Rogers, solemn and clever, needed a release from his stressful business life. He was the one who decided the when and where without any confirmation on your part. He just scheduled the meeting in your daily calendar like it was one of his business luncheon. And you showed up.

That’s why, on this Saturday evening you were, naked, sweaty, and panting hard under his muscular chest. Steve was thrusting into you, again and again, hitting the soft delicious spot inside your pussy. You clenched his thick cock once, biting your lips watching him grunted.

“ Baby! “ Steve moaned, still moving above you. He descended one hand caressing your skin stopping between your thighs. The blond man started to stroke your clit with his fingers, urgently. “ Come for me. ” He whispered his red mouth still wet from your previous orgasm. “ Come all around me.“

The bed was creaking with your movement in his darkroom. You were pressed into the mattress, feeling your climax coming once again deep inside your core. Steve pushed harder inside of you, feeling you were almost there. You grazed his smooth back with your nails arching your back as you reached your peak, deliciously hot and blissful. You whimpered, squeezing him hard. Steve swore under his breath, putting his head into the crook of your neck, he came in a low and deep groan, his hips jerking at each spasm, his cock throbbing inside of you. You breathed hard under him, softly kissing his shoulder. Your eyelids were heavy from tiredness but you felt euphoric. His hot breath was fanning your neck, his sweaty chest was against your naked breast. Steve swallowed as he braced himself from you, one hand next to your head the other stroking softly your clit making you shiver. He took himself out, looking at you, he frowned, concentrating.

“ Did you send the fiscal papers to the Financial Department? “ He asked a bit out of breath. His head was clear and turned into business mode.  

You nodded once. You didn't know how after all of the sex, he could still think about work.

“ And did you send the e-mail to Stark? The one with the new numbers? “ He continued his voice hoarse.

You nodded again, confused. Because his voice was CEOish but his hand on your stomach was gentle.

“ Good. “ Steve replied.

He licked his lips humming his approval as he tasted your sweet juice on his tongue. He smirked seeing your eyes darkened from the sight closely watching him, but he pushed his body away from you and get up on the steady ground of his bedroom’s floor. He started to walked toward his bathroom, naked like the day he was born.

“ Monday I have a meeting with Wilson & Barnes, don’t forget to buy the beverage, Miss Smith. “ He informed you, his back, turned to you. You could saw the long scratch of your nails on his skin.  

You sighed, watching him closed the door of the bathroom. It was back to Miss Smith again. It wasn’t your last name, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the greatest of the boss. And if he used this name it meant that your night together was over and it was the time for you to go home. It was your deal between the two of you since you started to work at Rogers Inc. You were the best assistant ever, he was a jerk and arrogant boss, and sometimes the two of you will meet, preferably in his apartment, and had sex. Just wild and sensual sex, with no feeling and attachment. For him for sure. But for you, it was difficult each day to fool you that you haven’t any feelings, for him. You were lost, one part of you liked the tender man, he was sometimes. And another part of you was scared of how harsh, brutal, and dark he could be when he wanted something.

°°°

“ I heard Rumlow is on the market again, trying to buy Stark Industries. “ James Buchanan Barnes stated, smiling behind his hand, watching his best friend getting angrier at the information. “ Even though he filed for bankruptcy last year, the word in the street is that a private investor gave him the money to buy one of the biggest companies in the world.” “ I don’t believe this lie, Buck’. “ Steve told him completely annoyed that his oldest rival/enemy was back in the game. “ I am the one who will buy Stark’s company. Tony trusts me. “ He continued, turning his chair back to the men to watch the biggest and tallest skyscrapers of New York City through the huge windows of his office. “ The only thing Tony trusts, my man, “ Sam smiled, raising himself from the white couch buttoning his jacket. “ Is money. “ He finally revealed, pointing at the glass door at his associate, he left the room a grin on his lips.

It was barely 10 a.m and Steve Rogers was already mad. The week had just begun.

“ Contact your father, Steve. I’m sure he will have a solution.“ Bucky raised himself from his seat his eyes following Sam leaning against the main desk in the waiting area. The dark-haired man sighed frowning at his colleague who was currently flirting with Steve’s assistant. The CEO couldn’t see them but he could hear them giggling in the lobby. His irritation was going up reaching a new level of anger. “ My father will blackmail me or worse bully me into something I don’t want to, for me to get the money. ” Steve replied without turning his back from the beautiful skyline of the city. “ Yes. “ Bucky admitted walking toward the door. “ But, in the end, you would possess the most important industrial firm in the world. “ He explained, his eyes watching the head of his friend, over his shoulder. He shook his head, before leaving the office closing the door behind him.

Steve knew that Bucky was right. He had to ask his father for the money or he could say goodbye to one of his biggest dream for his career: merging Stark company with his own. He turned around, turning his computer on to make a deal with the devil. Without turning his head from the screen, Steve hit one button on his telephone.

“ Miss Smith, I need you for a moment. “ He talks directly to the interphone set on the device and pushed his finger away.

You entered the office, less than a minute later. A pen and a notepad in your hand already ready to write his orders. He didn’t acknowledge you, still taping on the flat and white keyboard. A couple of minutes later, Steve finished his e-mail. He pressed send then he raised himself from his chair, tucking his tie and buttoning his expensive jacket. He walked around his desk finally looking at you. You had waited for him for the exactitude of two minutes and thirty seconds, but it wasn’t the first time he was a complete asshole to you. It won’t be the last time either.

" Follow me to the Financial Department, I need to know the exact numbers we could pull out for Stark Industries. " He informed you, still walking. " What ordered do I make to the kitchen for your lunch, sir? " You asked, nodding but also preparing your pen to write his answer. " Nothing. I’m going out for lunch and will remain out for the most part of this afternoon too.” He informed you, as he stopped in front of your frame. “Cancelled my appointments.”

You paused for a nanosecond at the new information settle in before putting your pen and small notepad in your skirt pocket. Steve was about to walk around you but he suddenly took your wrist into a firm grip in his hand. His eyes were darker and full of promising threats. You gasped surprised by his sudden movement. And then you felt it, the burning feeling from his tight hold, you winced under his angry face. He pulled on your wrist making you collided into his chest, with his other hand he raised your head, one finger under your chin. Your eyes met his cold blue one.

" It’s the first and last time I hear you flirting with one of my friends, sweetheart. Do you understand? " He asked his voice grave and low, his lips barely moving.

You nodded biting your lips under his glare. Steve leaned his mouth to yours, put a simple kiss on your lips. One. Tender. Then, he released you from his grip, stepping beside you to open the door. You let a quiet gasp escape your lips as you stroked the tender flesh of your wrist.

" Let’s go, Miss Smith, we haven’t all day. " He cried out without turning around, striding into the lobby toward the elevator.

Confused you followed him, tears in your eyes. You paused next to him, waiting for the elevator. Discomfort growing inside your chore.

" Miss Smith, you will do a quick reckon on Mr. Brock Rumlow while I’m away. I need to know everything. From the professors he had in preschool to the girls he's currently banging. " Steve commanded you as the metal doors open up in front of you. " Yes, sir. " You sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from your cheek taking your small notepad and pen from your pocket you took notes.

Steve step inside. You followed him but pushed yourself at the back in one of the four corners, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you, making yourself small. The elevator closed the doors and start his descent to the floors below. Steve turned around his back to you. " Stop crying, baby. You know how much it makes me hard. " Steve said to you, his voice low. He took his phone from inside his jacket and started scrolling "And, I don’t have the time to fuck you, right now. “

With a trembling hand, you wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. You bite your lips your sighted set on his long fingers tapping the screen. Sometimes Steve Rogers could be much worse than a simple asshole. He could be frightening.

°°°

It  turned out to be a horrible and awful Monday as the day goes on and on. Steve was angry at everything. Pushing the bag, harder with his fists, he didn’t hear you walk into the gym room of the building. The night had felt in New York City, and almost every employee had returned home. Except you. You couldn’t leave until he did. Steve was wearing his sports clothes, a white t-shirt with sweat pants. His forehead and face were coated in sweat. He had returned to the office two hours ago without telling you anything. He just took his gym bag and went straight to this room. The space was large and clear with numerous sports machines. You leaned your side against the wall, a big folder in your hands.

Finally, Steve stopped hitting the punching ball. Panting, he put his hair away from his eyes.

" Did you finished what I asked you about Rumlow? " Steve asked, starting to take away the white bandage from his hand.                                                        " Yes. " You answered, clearing your voice. " I searched and classified every single information I could find on him. " You waved the folder to him. " From birth to present day. "

But Steve didn’t look at you. His thought turned on what his father had told him over their lunch earlier. “ Find a sweet wife, and makes an heir. I don’t want to see my name tainted and ending with you. “ Sweet words. His father was the worst but he had accepted to give him enough money to gather with what his financial team could bring from his company. It would be more than enough to beat Brock and buy Stark Industries but he still had to look for a wife and make a damn baby. He wasn’t the romantic kind of guy. Steve didn’t believe in love and all the other bullshit the media was brainwashing the world with. He loved sex and was pretty damn good at it. But what drove him was to grow his business and be the best. To be better than his father. And he was one step away from it and nobody or anyone will stop him.

" That’s great, Miss Smith. " He nodded taking the last bit of the bandage from his left hand before taking off the bandage from the right one. " Will you marry me, Y/N? " Steve asked not once raising his head from his fingers.

You froze feeling that you haven’t heard him well. You frowned taken aback by the words that came out of his mouth. You didn’t know if you should be more shocked at him for using your real name in three years or by his proposal. You swallowed hard waiting for him to laugh at you. And announced that all of it was a joke. A bad joke. Steve finally turned his blue sight toward you, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

" Well? " He asked impatiently, finishing with his bandage.                                    " Oh, you are serious! " You exclaimed your mouth wide open, and almost dropping the huge folder on the floor.                                                                                         " Of course, I’m serious. " Steve replied annoyed throwing his stuff in his large sports bag.

Surprise, you dropped your gaze on the ground. Marriage? Marriage was such a big thing, celebrating and vowing in front of your friends and family to love each other for the rest of your life until death comes to break us apart. For you, it was something to do when you were in love but it wasn’t what Steve had in mind.

" You are great at your job, sexy and I like to have sex with you. " He enumerated looking at you and putting his hands on his hips. " I’m not taking no for an answer. So when we should get married, the sooner the better. " He continued his face dead serious looking at you.

You were so confused and baffled by all this, looking at him like a second head had grown on his neck. What the fuck was happening? You shook your head, making a step back to the door. He was insane. Seeing you moving back, Steve took two long strides to reach you before you could escape from him. Extracting the folder from your hold, he threw it across the gym room, papers flying around felt on the ground. Steve put his hands on both of your cheeks. He raised your head pulling it closer to his own. Scared, you look at his eyes. The word dangerous flashing around your mind.

" I told you, I won’t take no for answer. " He murmured his lips brushing yours. "When we will get married I will offer you everything that you desire. I’m filthy rich it’s almost indecent, sweetheart. You will have everything and more." He explained to you stroking your cheek, his dark eyes looking at your teary and fearful one. " A house, cars, clothes anything you want. All I asked in return is a couple of kids. " Steve whispered low against your lips. He brushed his hard-on in his pants against your lower stomach emphasizing his thought. " It will be your kids, I will send them to the best schools, they will have everything they want." He dry-humped your stomach, wiping a few tears on your cheeks with his thumbs, excited watching you frightened. 

Steve was certainly insane selling this dream life to you. You needed to think alone, away from his pushy behavior. Closing your eyes, you tried to shrink away from his grasps but he was holding you tightly. You opened your eyes more tears falling on your cheeks, scared you shook your head once again.

" I-I… " You stuttered, choking a sob as you watched him smirked in front of you.                                                                                                                                     " I told you, baby. I won’t take no for an answer. " He said quietly and pressed a kiss on your lips. He took one of your trembling hands from your side, pulled on it, and guided it inside his sweat pants and underwear. You gasped breaking away from him. You felt his hand forcing yours to pump his thick cock in his clothing. " I already told you, seeing you cried makes me horny, baby. " He mumbled in a low voice. " Horny and hard, just for you. " Steve reminded you, groaning at your touch.

He put his forehead against yours, feeling your hand all around him. He guided you to stroke him as he liked you too. You whimpered sobbing, not knowing what to do. Watching the tears falling on your cheeks, his cock throbbed inside of both of your hands. He darkly smiled at you before putting his lips on yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

You will be his perfect little wife.

°°°

Two. Thee. Four. Five.

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (July 20th, 2021)

There’s a new Sims 4 update available for PC/Mac and Consoles. If you have auto updates enabled in Origin’s “Application Settings”, the game will auto-update once you open Origin. If you have auto-updates disabled, you will need to manually update by clicking the game in your library.

Your game should now read: PC: 1.77.131.1030 / Mac: 1.77.131.1230 / Console: Version 1.44

Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game

Hello Simmers!

Hope you are well wherever you are in the world and that you are all having a fantastic Summer of Sims! We are excited to share today’s update with you. There is a lot of info, so make sure you have your tea/coffee/beverage of choice ready to read on. You all know I have my coffee ready for this!

As we continue to get ready to explore the countryside charm of Henford-on-Bagley and cannot absolutely wait to play with the adorable animals in Cottage Living, we also have updates and fixes that should improve and complement your Sims’ everyday life. We have something for everyone and we hope that you all enjoy them. Thank you for all your feedback and support.

Cheers!

-SimGuruRusskii ft. SimGuruRomeo and SimGuruJoAnna

What’s New?

Let’s start with some items that we shared in our last Sims 411!

For this update, we partnered with two talented artists from the LGBTQ+ community, Ashley Lukashepsky, and Mohammed Iman Fayaz, and they have brought their inspiring and beautiful artwork into the game. We have also included the modernized version of the large afro hairstyle that we showed you. But more than tell you about it in text, let me actually attach a screenshot of everything put together:

I love everything about this scene, not only it shows you how the artwork looks in a real game setting, but the whole scene with the two Sims and their surroundings is quite magical. Also, look at that hair! The way the light highlights it, perfection! You may also notice the hair of the Sim on the right, which was also added with this update for everyone. I want to personally thank all Simmers for their feedback and recommendations, as we are continuously working on adding more diverse hairstyles and textures to not only packs, but also to our base game.

Now that we are talking about artwork, the last patch notes I forgot to add the artwork made by the wonderful Jupiter Stevens-Hill. I apologize for that, I totally blanked out. However, I’m happy to see that a lot of you are enjoying it and placing it in your Lots! That makes a very happy Russkii =)

To find Jupiter, Ashley, and Mohammed’s paintings in Build Mode, make sure you take a look at the Paintings and Posters sort and filter by Base Game items. These artists are amazing and we hope you enjoy their creations.

Now, without further ado, let’s get to some new features and improvements that are part of this update!

A little bit of Gallery

When you download a lot made with the bb.moveobjects cheat, the game now notifies you about this so you know to activate the cheat before placing the lot. Builders, this means you won’t need to mention it in the lot’s description anymore!

A little for Sims

Trying to find the Sims in the current neighborhood? Select their portraits in the Relationship Panel.

“Focus the Camera” moves the camera to the Sim.

“Lock the Camera” moves the camera to the Sim and keeps following them.

Where did the Notebook go?

Found it! The Notebook has moved out of the Phone and into its own button for quicker access.

The “Center on Current Lot” button that used to be there has moved to the top right, adjacent to the Camera Controls.

Water Tool

You now can make natural, organic bodies of water! Just head into Build Mode, make a hole with the Terrain Manipulation tool, and fill it with water. It is that easy! The Terrain Manipulation and Paint Tools also have more brush sizes to enable finer detail.

In adding the Water Tool, we also took the chance to overhaul the related tools and object categories. Why not? Enjoy!

Pond Effects

All sorts of critters are available to complete the look of your pond ranging from ducks and swans to pesky mosquitoes. There is even an alligator!

New Pond Objects

Outdoor Water Décor now has an assortment of new Pond Objects to decorate the perfect pond. Some of these objects such as the Bog Log and Colorful Lily Pads have interactions on them in Live Mode to activate Turtle and Frog effects. The new Fishing Allowed Sign enables you to stock your pond with any fish your Sims have previously caught. Try it out!

New Water Styles

Go beyond the original crystal blue and dreamy magenta water. Additional options range from “Mossy Water” to “Pond Scum” to complete that au natural look.

The Shrubs category includes new plants to complement the water styles: “Green Fern”, “Leaning Not-Grass Grass”, “Not-Grass Grass Sans Inflorescence.”

Gardening with Children

Children now can help out in the garden by planting, watering, and weeding. They build their Mental skill as they garden. The process of purchasing and planting seeds is streamlined as well to make gardening more enjoyable for everyone.

Group Cooking

Cooking no longer is a solo affair. Sims now can cook in groups of up to five Sims including children. Start cooking together by selecting a fridge, stove, or any empty countertop.

Zoomers Food Delivery Service

Are your Sims getting tired of the same old pizza delivery every night? Well, gone are the days of redundant pizza nights. Maybe you are in the mood for pasta primavera or even a fancy steak dinner. All this and more are available courtesy of Zoomer Food Delivery. Order delivery through the phone or the refrigerator and the food will arrive in a jif.

Calendar

The calendar, previously available only with Seasons, now is available with Base Game to see upcoming events such as birthdays, school and work schedules, festivals, and fairs. You even can use it to book events, so it’s time to get to party planning!

Bug FixesConsoles

In Snowy Escape, skiing, sledding, and snowboarding on Bunny Slopes now contribute to the Extreme Sports Enthusiast Aspiration.

Also in Snowy Escape, Sims with high enough Skiing and Snowboarding skills now can enjoy the more advanced slopes. Sims also use the Lift to go to the top of the slopes and not go “the hard way.”

Simmers can now rotate Sims downloaded from the Gallery in Create a Sim. Spin them ‘round, ‘round, Simmers ‘round, ‘round –  like a record ‘round, ‘round, ‘round, ‘round.

The Sims 4

We made some improvements that should help our Simulation lag, particularly on the usage of some computer interactions like playing BlicBlock, along with fishing interactions, which should make the game perform a bit better. Note that this doesn’t entirely fix simulation lag but it should help and it is a step in a good direction.

Fixed an issue in which placing Mirrors directly opposite Doors would create a visual glitch in which walls and borders would disappear around them and well it was quite spooky to be honest, glad we solved that one!

Ever wish your food didn’t expire? I know I do, especially when it comes to traveling and coming back to see a fridge in pristine condition, that is a dream… but alas, it is not meant to be in life or in Sims. Fixed an issue in which traveling didn’t let food expire.

Sims stuck sleeping and couldn’t cancel that interaction? Not a product of a sci-fi film as I thought, but I can say that we have fixed this issue, well I hope.

You want to know how to not make my day, have my coffee brew endlessly but without giving me the coffee! Luckily the issue in-game about the Brew Coffee interaction being stuck has been fixed. Wasn’t it odd? Wait… Sleep and Brew Coffee were stuck in a mysterious loop? SUS.

If your Child Sims suddenly interrupted their computer sessions to draw on the activity table when Inspired, worry not, this should not happen after this update.

Fixed an issue that caused the “Items Removed” pop-up to appear when no items were removed from the game.

Fixed an issue in which setting Lots on Slipshod Mesquite would sometimes generate a crash of the game for some Simmers. The Lot couldn’t handle that much flavor.

Some blush and lipstick opacity sliders are back as they were greyed out.

Step-Parent/Child relationships are no longer missing in the Genealogy Panel. Similarly, other cases of broken families in the Genealogy Panel have been fixed as well. It is all about reconnecting or connecting with what is important.

Platforms will no longer raise in height automatically when creating new walls to intersect part of them.

We also fixed an issue in which if you placed platforms in basement levels and a staircase from the floor to the platforms, it would create this gap or hole in front of the stairs and Sims were not able to route correctly. You know, I have played many platformers in my lifetime, but do you imagine Sims trying to jump those gaps? I mean, I am called JumpFail for a reason… glad we fixed this one!

World view Lots that had some off-centered border have been adjusted.

Toddlers will no longer gain negative Sentiments against their parents randomly, especially the Festering Grudge Sentiment. I should not be laughing at this issue as I type it, I should not…<giggles>

We got word that the camera was malfunctioning and bouncing uncontrollably in some Lots across multiple Worlds. We fixed an issue that caused this, but let us know if there are new instances.

Sometimes Ghosts can be part of our Households if we choose to, however, it is really hard to live with Ghosts that constantly break things, it makes it a bit… unlivable. So our expert team of Simghostologists has communicated with these Ghosts in the non-physical realm and they have agreed to not break everything all the time.

Fixed an issue related to flooring glitches while placing the dance floor or crystal clear flooring.

Went through all the trouble in hiring a Nanny only to have your Toddler get sent to Daycare? More than a schedule conflict I imagine having the Nanny show up and there is no Toddler so what does the Nanny do in this case? Do they leave? Do they stay and wait? I must know… However, This should no longer be an issue.

Fixed an issue where using ‘{}’ (curly brackets)  in renaming objects would make these invisible in lists or UI in general.

Fixed an issue in the Likes and Dislikes section in Create a Sim that had some categories displayed incorrectly (either cut off, or words broken apart in new lines incorrectly) for some languages.

There was a clipping issue with the eye preset ymAsian13_Eyes that occurred when Sims were in extreme emotion, like Angry, and blinked. We adjusted this preset so this should not occur.

Toddlers can be picky eaters, but Toddlers not eating any fish recipe? That is suspicious, so we had a chat with the little angels and we have found a way to help them enjoy the complex flavors of our fish recipes.

Our UI team has fixed an issue in which a scrollbar appeared in the Sentiment section in the Relationship Panel when there were no sentiments. The mysterious scrollbar was mysterious. Similarly, they have also fixed an issue in which if multiple Sims gained sentiments together their thought bubbles look quite not right with the incorrect colors, so now they should look proper.

The Likes and Dislikes icon in Create a Sim will no longer overlap its text. It looked weird, honestly.

Droids (if you own Journey to Batuu) and Drones (if you own Get Famous) clipping into all kinds of objects in Build Mode? We saw that too, so there should be a fix for that in this game update. I mean this went beyond just crashing into things…

The option “Join After School Activity” will no longer be available if Simmers don’t have Seasons or Get Famous packs installed.

Sims in deviant paths now can properly reach the Level 4 of the Criminal Career.

Now, this is one that made my day, Cowplants are now able to dance again when Sims play music in front of them. Dance Cowplant, Dance!

Fixed an issue in which relationship points gained by friendly introductions were more than usual if Simmers didn’t have Snowy Escape installed.

We adjusted the color swatches for the S. Cargeaux Counter Island so that when it gets dirty, the counter doesn’t completely change colors. Dirty Counter – who dis?

Fixed an issue where the Scared Emotion UI was displaying a broken pose for Toddlers. The pose was kinda more scary than what the Toddler had been scared of, so glad that is done.

Outfits worn while Purchased and Worn in Festivals/Kiosks/Stalls should no longer remove accessories that were in place for the Sim.

Error code 134:571e5862 that occurred to some Simmers should be fixed now.

We fixed a few hairstyles (yfHair_EP05WavyBob, yfHair_EP01PartedFlat, yfHair_EP05UnderCutDreads, yfHair_EP01ShortSwept, and yfHair_DreamyCrew) that when used with the recently added color options would create splotches in the eyes, change the color of teeth, and/or change the eyelashes color.

As always the Localization team and this author have fixed and improved text across all packs and updates.

Get to Work

Aliens can now enjoy their custom Blush options in Create a Sim. Lewks out of this world!

Retail employees will now appropriately change into their assigned outfits. Listen, I grew up wearing uniforms for school, I get it, sometimes they are not the prettiest… but you have to wear them if you have to go to that establishment. I know the pain too well… but my sense of style grew from that… I think.

We made a fix to some of the swatches from the Barely Better Digital Camera that were missing a description for the item, so now all the swatches will display the text in all its glory.

Get Together

Some of these Sims are not like the others, some of these Sims just don’t belong. Can you tell which are not like the others by the time I finish writing these notes?

Fixed an issue in which some of the rooftops in Winderburg were not displaying Snow (if you own Seasons) correctly.

Fixed an issue where Sims didn’t sometimes change into their Club outfits when a Club Gathering was being held.

City Living

The Scattered Panes window in Build Mode now displays appropriate shadows in all options.

Sims enrolled in the Social Media career will now gain influence at the end of their stream instead of every few Sim-minutes.

Two hairstyles (ymHair_EP03BunHighPins and ymHair_EP03BraidedFlateBun) have been updated to reflect the correct look when choosing the Neutral Black color option.

Your Sims want to shoot some Basketball Close Shots, but they are trying to eat first? Well, now your Sims can finish eating before trying those hoops. Nutrition is important!

Cats and Dogs

We fixed an issue in which whiskers were not being seen applied to Cats. A Cat without whiskers is like Peanut butter without Jelly… or something like that! Just wrong!

Robot Vacuums should all now return to their docks accordingly. I hope this issue was not a sign that they were becoming sentient.

Sims will no longer get a Moodlet referring to the death of their Pet when witnessing the death of another Sim. The loss of a Sim is heartbreaking, but also getting a Moodlet for the death of their Pet when the Pet has not died, that is cold Grimmy, very cold.

Speaking of Robot Vacuums becoming sentient a few lines above, we fixed an issue that made the game crash when Cats would sit on the Robot Vacuum. CatonRobot.exe is now working.

We fixed an issue in which some Simmers experienced a crash with their last played Household loading into Brindleton Bay.

Seasons

Sims were changing into their cold-weather gear… while not in cold weather? We had some conversations with Sims and even though they love their winter outfits, dressing up in full winter gear in the summer was probably not the wisest choice. So the issue in which Sims randomly would change into their winter outfits while not in winter is solved.

Egg Hunts are adorable and fun! But not being able to have the furniture reset after looking for Eggs in them, can be quite the rain on Sims’ parade. But this should no longer occur.

Island Living

Mermaids will no longer keep the “Dried Scales” Moodlet when they are hydrated. Mermaids’ skincare regimen pays off! Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize!

Fixed an issue in which Lots that are placed in the sand looked quite odd displaying all edges of the Lot when it rained.

Sims that have the Collector Aspiration Trait are now able to catch Frogs in Sulani as part of their adventures exploring the island waterfall. Good Luck!

We fixed an issue in which some Simmers experienced game crashes when loading into certain lots in Mua Pe’lam. Happy Exploring!

Discover University

Sims having a hard time in Uni? No matter what they do they keep failing classes? Worry not, Sims will no longer fail classes when meeting all the criteria for course completion. Work hard, pass your classes hard!

Having Roommates can be hard. Have your Sims had Roommates complain constantly and leave even when their needs are met? Yeah, we made it so that Roommates don’t do this any longer.

Fixed an issue in which beds were counted incorrectly when placing an ad for Roommates. I mean, as much as Pets and even Toddlers can live with Roommates, the ad should be truthful to how many beds there are actually in the Lot, not count Toddlers and Pets as needing adult-sized beds.

We fixed Servo animations so that they don’t look like they are walking on one leg when hovering to their destination. Now they will hover properly.

We fixed an issue in which in some instances Professors could not go to work when a Professor NPC is added into that same Household.

Fixed an issue in which removing and adding back Household members as Roommates would create some… inappropriate moments, ahem.

Eco Lifestyle

Evergreen Harbor’s peace has been restored: roads and parts of neighborhoods no longer disappear or turn blue when businesses open in Port Promise while the Modern Development N.A.P is active.

yfBody_EP09DressShirt no longer has a weird texture in some of the footwear from various packs, especially platform shoes and chunky sneakers.

Had you moved to Cypress Terrace in Willow Creek and found you couldn’t really do anything there? We fixed the routing failures and interaction failures on the Mitey-Mitey Home – Insect Farm.

Snowy Escape

Mountain Climbing can be challenging, even for those experienced. But having indecisive moments before a climbing route like getting off and on your bike constantly seems that a lot of doubt is passing your mind… However, we did speak to these Sims that were experiencing this behavior and calmed their fears and doubts, so this should no longer be an issue.

The hairstyle yfHair_EP10BobBluntOmbre now covers all of the Sim’s ears.

For Simmers who own Seasons together with Snowy Escape, rain options no longer affect snow.

Sims no longer have the option to give a respectful or military introduction during activities such as Dancing or Bike Riding. I mean, I’m not sure about you, but I can’t dance and respectfully introduce myself at the same time. So many falls… so many falls.

We made some corrections to the Slippers that came with this pack and they should no longer display a greenish texture on Sims’ toes when selected in Create a Sim. Yikes.

Fixed an issue in which for some Simmers playing with the Yoshida Hall Household would generate a game crash when loading into Mt. Komorebi.

We took a look at our Ramen menu and have updated our cooking menu to label Miso and Egg Ramen as Vegetarian safe options. Buen Provecho!

Want to run a Restaurant in Yukimatsu but also want to enjoy the slopes? Now your Sims can enjoy the slopes and dine in style. However, this action is only directed, and will not be autonomous. In the same vein, Restaurant employees will not be tempted to leave work to enjoy the slopes.

Journey to Batuu

Batuu is an awesome destination for those who want to enjoy something fun and different, but if you bought a Droid from the Droid Depot and never saw it in your inventory, I know how frustrating it can be. Never fear, the Droids you were looking for will appear now in Inventories when purchased.

In Journey to Batuu, the First Order ID no longer disappears from inventory so Sims now can Access First Order Plans for the Top Notch Trickery Mission.

Fixed an issue with the Leveling the Playing Field Mission in which the Scoundrel Informant would not appear on the scene after Sims stole the Prototype Blaster and went to Oga’s Cantina to wait for the informant.

Dine Out

Eggs and Toast sound super basic and easy right? They will continue to be that way for our unassuming Chefs on the Chef Station since we fixed an issue that made them… challenging. Sims can also use the second burner for other recipes without fail or routing out.

StrangerVille

The Decorations and Kid’s categories in Build Mode should no longer have a “New” highlight when there’s nothing actually new.

Dream Home Decorator

Lighting can change the ambiance of a room, and your mood in a flash. Luckily we have fixed an issue that lighting was not even on sectional sofas to continue to set the right mood for our Sims.

Our stylists fixed the Sleep ‘N’ Study Styled Room to remove the P.R.I.M.A Computer from it as this is not an item that is accessible for everyone, pardon our dust.

Laundry Day

Fixed an issue where an animation clipped when Sims were loading their laundry machines. Because having your clothes go through you is awkward, are Sims made of fabric? I don’t think so.

Bust the Dust

Don’t need Simoleons, don’t need Fame. Don’t need dinner to have this date. It’s strong and it’s sudden and it’s cruel sometimes but it might just end your night… the power of Dust, that’s the power of Dust.

Our cleaning agents have determined that Sims won’t get romantic negative Moodlets related to filthy levels of dust in public places like parks.

[ruzek-halstead]

all i want for christmas is you 🎄

part one

pairing: luke patterson x julie molina

when julie finds herself in a situation where she needs luke to come home with her to celebrate christmas with her family, he is more than happy to oblige. too bad julie's already in love with him, and not sure when she stopped pretending.

holiday university au

series masterlist || masterlist || ao3

ps. i'm sorry but not sorry for choosing the cheesiest title ever for this fic

🎄

"I need you." Luke choked on his iced coffee. He had just walked into Julie's dorm room, iced coffees in hand when she nearly attacked him in the doorway. "What?" With a small smirk, she backed up, pulling him inside and closing her door. "I need you. I need your help, actually." Luke furrowed his eyebrows, but pounced onto her bed anyway like he usually did. He reached out to hand her the iced coffee. Julie met Luke on her first day of university. She was struggling to find her classroom to Composition 101, when she ran smack into a hard body. The hard body happened to be Luke and he also happened to be carrying an iced coffee. It got all over the two of them, and instead of yelling at him or apologizing, she started crying. He was more freaked out than anyone she had ever seen in her life, and to comfort her, he awkwardly patted her arm and dug out a packet of tissues from his backpack. When she calmed down and realized what happened, she nearly died of mortification. But then she stopped crying and Luke's eyes softened; he asked her what was wrong and once she started talking, she couldn't stop. It just so happened that Luke was also in Composition 101 and the classroom was just to their right. She was mortified, but he was cute and understanding, and they've been inseparable ever since. Sure, maybe at one point she thought something more would happen between them. But school kept them busy, and their friendship came first; so, she never made a move, and neither did he. Instead, they continued to hang out (they ended up having more classes together since they were both in the music program) and once Julie met his friends, and they met her best friend Flynn, the five of them became inseparable. Julie discovered Luke and his friends were in a band; they were trying to build a following and since Flynn was amazing with public relations and social media, she took over as their part-time manager. And Julie started writing songs with the band and she occasionally joined them on stage. They were all thinking it; that Julie should join the band, but it was a big step and no one wanted to bring it up first. "What do you need me for?" Luke asked. If he weren't so focused on his iced coffee (it was so delicious), he would have noticed she was pacing the small floor of her dorm and chewing nervously on her fingernails. When she didn't immediately reply, he looked up. "Jules, talk to me. What's up?" She stopped her pacing and moved to stand in front of him. He was gazing at her with soft brown eyes and she just wanted to melt because of how utterly adorable he looked. "I did a thing," she admitted, but didn't elaborate any further. "I do a lot of things every day, Jules. You'll need to give me a bit more than that," he replied with a smirk. Julie still appeared uneasy so Luke reached out and tapped her fingers with his in a comforting gesture. "Come on. Did you kill someone? Are we getting rid of a body? I don't care what it is, but you'll have to tell me if I'm going to become an accessory." His goal was to elicit some type of reaction and he was graced with a small smile. "My Tia has been on my back about not having a boyfriend for a while now, so a while back I told her I had a boyfriend because it's not like she would ever meet him and I could just say we broke up or something," she gushed out in one large breath. Luke blinked, hiding a smirk so she didn't slap him and crawl back into her shell. "But the entire family is getting together for Christmas and she just assumed I was bringing my boyfriend and then when I tried to explain, she mentioned you by name and I just kind of blanked and basically, my whole family thinks you're my boyfriend and you're coming to spend Christmas with me." Julie expected him to look surprised, or even angry, but definitely horrified. So, she was shocked when he merely took another sip of his iced coffee and smiled at her. "Cool. When do we leave?" "Wait — what?" "I'm assuming we're leaving after exams, right?" He continued on speaking as if she wasn't gaping in his direction. He proceeded to pull out his phone from his front pocket and open his calendar. "My last exam is on the 22nd. Does that work for you?" Julie blinked. What the hell was happening? "But — aren't you — Luke, did you hear what I said?" He looked up at her with teasing eyes. "Yeah, Jules, I did. What about it?" "And you're okay with that?" Luke shrugged. "Well, let's weigh it out. Pros: I get to eat delicious food, hang out with my best friend and avoid the Patterson household. Cons: I can't really think of any, can you?" "Well — I — God, I am so confused right now." "Don't sweat it, Jules," Luke smiled charmingly and if Julie wasn't at a loss for words already, she definitely was now. "I'm excited. Plus, you know I love spending time with you," he added in a flirty tone. One problem with Luke? He was unbelievably flirtatious. Julie doesn't even think he's aware; it's mostly because he's incredibly kind and such a people's person, that his friendly approach comes off flirty. And it normally would be fine. Except he's basically the man of her dreams, and even when he merely smiled at her, her brain short-circuited. So, handling his flirty behaviour when it's directed at her? Honestly, she feels like she needs a crash cart with her at all times. "But like, they think we're dating, Luke," she clarified because she honestly didn't think he understood what he was getting himself into. She loved her family with all her heart, but they could be incredibly invasive and nosy. It's why she loved them, but also why she despised bringing anyone around. “You’re going to have to act as if you like me.” His smirk returned; he seemed to be enjoying this way too much. “I do like you, Jules.” She ignored the butterflies battling to the death under her ribcage. “Don’t be cute,” she admonished with a huff, “You’ll have to act like you’re in love with me.” “Okay,” he shrugged. Sometimes he was the most carefree, loveable dumbass in the world and it infuriated her to no end. “That doesn’t sound that hard. What’s not to love?” Julie was starting to get flustered and he was seemingly going along with everything she said, so she didn’t see much of a point to this conversation anymore. “Okay,” she agreed, nodding. “Then we’ll leave the day after exams. We’ll probably need to set some rules or something, but we have time for that. Deal?” She held out her hand in between them. Luke glanced at it and then back at her with an amused smile on his lips. He waited a moment before grasping her hand in his, chuckling. “Yeah, deal.” When he let go of her hand, he proceeded to flop back on her bed, while she headed straight for the iced coffee she hadn’t gotten a chance to drink yet. “Hey, Luke?” She called out and he hummed in response. “Thank you for this. It means a lot and I appreciate it. And you. I appreciate you.”

Luke pushed himself up on his elbows, shooting her a wickedly bright smile. “Anything for you, Jules. Or should I say muffin?” “Hell no. Never repeat that again.” “Yes, ma’am.” It was very clear who would be wearing the pants during their relationship. 

x

The flight from New York City to Los Angeles was approximately six hours, which gave Julie and Luke ample time to hammer out the details of their newfound relationship. It also helped to distract Julie from the fact that she was essentially flying a metal death trap; it’s not that she hated flying, it just always made her uneasy. And because it was Christmas time, the flight was crammed. Luke had humbly offered her the window seat while he took the middle; his neighbour ended up being a sweet old man who slept for most of the flight. “If you squeeze the armrest any harder, you’re going to break your nails. Or a finger.” Julie relaxed her grip; it was a force of habit. “Sorry,” she replied sheepishly. “You can squeeze my hand instead if you want,” he offered, turning his palm to face up. It was a tempting offer, but things were already about to get complicated enough, so she needed to keep her head clear. So, she politely shook her head and spoke instead. “Okay, I need to be distracted. Let’s talk rules.” “Just the words every man wants to hear,” he quipped sarcastically. Luke had opted for a very casual airport look. He had his signature orange beanie pulled over his head, with a black hoodie and matching sweatpants; he completed the look with a pair of runners and his backpack. Even though he was dressed as casual as possible, Julie thought he never looked better. She had opted for a casual look too; an NYU hoodie with black leggings and her favourite white converse. Comfort was key on airplanes. “What, let me guess. You think we should go rogue and forget rules.” Luke laughed, shooting her a quick look from her left. “Yeah, pretty much.” “And you think that’s a good idea?” “Yeah,” he added, turning slightly to face her. “Listen, we don’t need to make this difficult. We should just act normally around each other, maybe a bit more touching here and there, but just keep it overall simple. You just let me know anything you’re uncomfortable with and it’s completely off the table.” Julie nodded, biting her lip. “Okay, that makes sense. What about our story though? We need a good story." The smirk returned to his lips. “But we already have the best story. You dumping coffee all over the both of us is really a way to make a first impression.” “It was your coffee!” “You ran into me!” He laughed, gently poking her ribs. “And then you started crying, which I will admit, freaked me the hell out. But hey, it all worked out.” Julie rolled her eyes. “Fine. So, what’s the story? You fell in love with me because I just looked so fabulous crying?” “Definitely not,” he shot back in a teasing tone. “Keep it simple, Jules. We were friends and things just happened from there. When did you tell your Tia you got a boyfriend?” “Like four months ago maybe?” “Perfect,” he agreed. “But seriously Jules, you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, right? I don’t want to do anything you’re not okay with.” Julie nodded, her heart warming at his wide, worried brown eyes. “Yeah, I’ll tell you. But you have to tell me too. This goes both ways.” “Please, Julie,” he scoffed, “You could push me in front of a bus and I’d be okay with it.” She punched at his bicep. “Shut up, you weirdo. I’m serious though. If my family is too much or you’re just not into it anymore, let me know. We’ll shut it down and leave.” “You worry too much,” he brushed her off, straightening in his seat and putting in an airpod. “It’s cute but don’t worry, I’m going to be the greatest fake boyfriend you’ve ever seen.” Julie didn’t doubt that for even a second. x When Julie called her dad to tell him she was bringing her boyfriend home for the holidays this year, he was absolutely ecstatic. He was just so incredibly happy for his daughter and unbelievably excited to meet the man Julie chose. He wasn’t like those dads who were overprotective and tried to scare the boyfriends off; he just genuinely wanted everyone to be happy. And he trusted Julie, and he trusted her to make smart decisions and surround herself with the best of people. She had been at university for three years now after all; if he didn’t trust her now, he never would. “Your dad’s picking us up?” Luke asked as he and Julie walked through customs. They had picked up their suitcases and were heading out into arrivals. Julie nodded. “Yeah. He’s excited to meet you. Are you nervous?” “Not really,” Luke shrugged. “We’ve technically spoken before on FaceTime. And I’m a people person; fathers love me.” Julie laughed, passing through the doors and maneuvering through the crowd waiting for their arrivals. “Mine definitely will. You two are both dorks.” “Hey!” Luke called out, genuinely offended. But Julie was too busy hurrying off to the side in the direction of a tall man. Luke assumed it was Julie’s father because she jumped on his unsuspecting back and when he whirled around to see her, there were unshed tears in his eyes. Julie wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. It always amazed Luke just how tiny she really was. But seeing her bury herself in her father’s chest reminded him all over again. After a moment, she pulled back and swiped at her face. Luke could only assume she teared up a little bit too. Julie whirled around to face Luke; her nose was red and she looked adorable. She held out a hand for him to take. “Dad, I want you to meet Luke.” “It’s so nice to officially meet you, Mr. Molina,” Luke greeted him politely. He reached out a hand for him to shake. “Call me Ray, we’re basically family!” Ray gushed, grabbing Luke’s hand and pulling him in for a hug instead. Something inside Julie started heating up. “I knew I recognized you. We’ve spoken before, haven’t we?” Luke nodded, a bright smile in his face because he couldn’t hold it back. “Yes, sir.” At Ray’s disapproving look, he stammered on. “I mean Ray, sorry. Force of habit.” “That’s good,” Ray winked, “You have good manners.” Looking between his daughter and Luke, Ray had never felt happier. “I’m so glad you’re both here. Are you ready to meet the family, Luke? We’re a tad bit wild.” Julie hopped into the conversation once again. “Don’t worry, I’ve briefed him.” Luke shared an amused look with Julie. “Yeah, I’m very ready. My family is quite the opposite, so I’m looking forward to some excitement.” “I’m glad to hear that. Should we get on the road? It’s getting late and you both are probably tired.” “Exhausted,” Julie huffed, reaching for her suitcase. Ray smacked her hand away and took it upon himself to roll it for her instead. With both hands now suddenly free, she happily slid one into Luke’s and together they followed Ray to the underground parking garage. She thought it might feel weird, pretending with Luke. But holding his hand felt natural and introducing him to her dad felt easy, almost as if it was meant to be. She knew the dangers of the comfort she was feeling, but she really couldn’t be bothered as she cuddled into Luke’s side when the cold air hit them. Julie climbed into the backseat with Luke, and it wasn’t long before her head started to feel heavy and she was having trouble keeping her eyelids open. Luke crept a hand along the seat, tapping on her thigh. With a start, she turned to him with tired eyes. He nodded his head in his direction and Julie took that as an invitation for her to slide over and lay her head on his shoulder. They’d taken naps together before, so this wasn’t unusual for them. They’ve always relied on touch to show their affection; their whole friend group did. It came with the territory of being so comfortable with a person that certain boundaries cease to exist. And her boundaries with Luke were blurred, and it was only getting worse as time passed by. Julie cuddled into Luke’s side once again. Her head rested on his shoulder and his hand moved to her leg. His touch seemed hesitant as he hovered above her knee but close to her thigh; he obviously wasn’t sure if this would make her uncomfortable and he didn’t want to risk it. Julie grabbed his wrist and set his hand down on her thigh, murmuring a quiet, “It’s okay.” That’s all the assurance he needed.

Luke met Ray’s eyes through the rearview mirror, and Ray smiled fondly.

When they arrived at Julie’s childhood home, Luke gently nudged Julie awake. “Hey, look where we are.” It took her a moment, but she finally pulled herself away from Luke. The sight of the house in which she grew up in was a sight to behold. She hadn't been back in quite a while (flights weren't cheap and school was killer). But seeing all the lights and decorations littering the house made her heart swell, and for the first time since she arrived, she was genuinely excited for the next few days. Luke and Ray took care of their suitcases while Julie rushed into the house, revelling in the warmth feeling of home. Everything looked exactly the same, save for the extravagant Christmas tree and decorations; Julie loved it. "Carlos is sleeping, but you can see him in the morning. I'll make breakfast," Ray told her, as he followed Luke into the house. "I'm sure you're both tired too. Julie, your room is all set up. I'll see you both in the morning, okay? Goodnight." When Ray was out of sight, Luke took a moment to look around the house. There were a number of decorations, but what really caught his eye were the multiple photo frames scattered around the room. He approached one on a side table; it was a young Julie encased in an older woman's arms. Their resemblance was uncanny, and Julie didn't talk much about her mom, but he knew. "Is this your mom?" He asked quietly when she came to stand next to him. Julie nodded. "She's beautiful." "Isn't she?" Julie murmured back. "Come on, let's go to bed." They grabbed their luggage and made their way upstairs. Julie's room looked exactly like Luke expected it to; it was a larger version of her dorm room, complete with soft colours and flower print. "I'm going to take a shower. Make yourself comfortable." With a sleepy smirk, he dropped his suitcase off to the side and collapsed face first onto her bed. "You know I will," he mumbled into the mattress.

Julie laughed with a roll of her eyes. She quickly dug through her suitcase to pull out the essentials and went across the hall to hope in the shower. There was nothing better than a nice, hot shower after a long and grimy plane ride, and Julie savoured every second. She changed into a pair of pj shorts and a NYU crew neck (she had a lot of NYU clothes). When she returned to her room, Luke had dozed off. “Get up,” she ordered as she walked over to his lifeless body. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

She poked at his cheek and he groaned. “You love it,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Debatable.” With another loud groan, he went over to his suitcase to grab his essentials. While she waited, she turned on her television and continued her New Girl rewatch (one of the best shows in existence). It was also a bad habit of hers to fall asleep watching Netflix on her laptop, but since she had her TV once again, that would do. When Luke returned, his hair was all wet and messy and so adorable. He was wearing an old band t-shirt and a pair of plaid pj bottoms, and he loudly dropped down beside Julie. He was so exhausted after travelling all day (not to mention the incessant studying/cramming he'd been doing the entire week for exams). All he wanted was to pass out and wake up the next morning feeling well rested and prepared to spend Christmas Eve with the Molina clan. "This okay?" He mumbled to Julie, but he was nearly clocked out. While he was laying down on his back, Julie was sitting up with her back rested against the headboard. She was mindlessly scrolling through her Instagram feed, but her eyelids were starting to droop. "Yeah, of course," Julie replied, reaching over to set her phone down on her bedside table. “How do you think this is going so far?” Luke had his eyes closed, but he wasn’t quite asleep yet. “Good,” he muttered, “Your dad is amazing.” “Yeah, he is,” Julie smiled proudly. She shimmied down in her bed after turning off the lamp and kept a respectable distance between her and Luke. They'd taken naps together before, but they'd never officially shared a bed for an entire night. If he or any of the boys stayed over, they always built a fort of blankets on the floor. She just wanted to make sure he was comfortable. "Are you okay? Is this weird?" He let out a sleepy chuckle. "It's not weird for me, Jules." After a moment, he turned to face her with a serious expression. "Is it weird for you? Want me to move to floor?" "No!" She objected, louder and quicker than she expected. Luke seemed to relax. "No, I'm fine. I just want to make sure you're comfortable with this." Luke's sleepy smile returned to his lips. "I'm always comfortable with you; you don't have to worry about me." "But I do," she added, a knowing lilt in her tone. He rolled his eyes lightly before settling back down comfortably. "We should sleep. Big day tomorrow." "Yeah," Julie sighed. She wasn't sure what the protocol here was; does she face him to sleep or does she turn away? Admittedly, it may be a bit challenging to sleep when staring at his serene, adorable face, but she decided to face him anyway. Luke popped open an eye, and a warm smile appeared on his lips. "Goodnight, Jules." He reached out a hand between them. It was a small, comforting gesture but that was Luke. He would do anything for the people he loved and it warmed Julie's heart to know she was one of those people. Her fingers met his and she intertwined their fingers gently. "Goodnight, Luke."

[morethanaprincess-a]

I know this is quite a bit of time after I posted this meme, but I wanted to respond to all of the kind comments I received on the positivity meme when I really needed some last week! So I thought I’d save it for a Munday post, complete with pet tax beneath the cut. Mundays are better with pet tax, right?

@electricea

Thank you so much for your compliments, Jassi! I adore writing with you too, it’s so much fun coming up with new AUs for Ryuji and Sonia (and expanding on our established verses as well). You’re such a positive and encouraging person in the tumblr RPC and I’m pretty sure your dash agrees. Here’s to more IC adventures and me sending you ramen related news and saying “we’re working this into a thread, right? Right??”

Does Ryuji have the ramen pool float/raft already? Because that needs to happen.

@cadcnce

So uh, on a scale of 1-10 how mad will you be if I get a draft back to Eira by mid-week? To be fair, it’s not the same day please don’t point that gun at me

Joking (about what will likely happen on my dash) aside, I love writing with you and your many muses too! Bonus that we have plenty in common too, including being Old Muns with Old Mun Problems. Like roleplaying before tumblr and the fact that pogs are a bottle/milk cap game (I think I had close to 100 of them as an elementary school student, before I said I wanted beanie babies instead).

In short, I have so much fun both writing IC and just chatting about fandom and life OOC. Though the more I keep looking at Las Vegas-related things for RP research I’m just “Well, now I want to go and not gamble at all but do everything else.”

But I’ll finish with this: I do try to put my happiness first, and for me that’s when I’m writing every day and have a consistently-running queue. This is partly due to how organized I am about my work and my hobbies, and partly due to content creation and social media being a large part of my professional life. It’s not that tumblr RP is work, it’s that I can’t help but approach it, in a way, in a professional sense, taking in algorithms, patterns, activity, etc. into consideration. I look at a variety of statistics tumblr provides on my blog and often make judgement calls about content I post here that way.

It’s super nerdy and I know it. I also just can’t help it because it’s ingrained in me at this point: content planning, creation, calendars, analytics, etc. Pain for me is disorganization, a queue that isn’t updated, or answering asks/taking on more threads when I have replies I could write. 

@despairfiles​

Excuse me, every hour is Sin loving hours! Thank you so much for your encouraging feedback. You’re absolutely right: I’m definitely someone who likes to develop complex, long-term interactions over a variety of interesting situations. I know that can be frustrating sometimes with queued replies and wall-of-text replies, but it really is fun for me to show so much of a scene: the setting, the dialogue, the action, the thoughts and feelings. I tend to come up with most of my headcanons through threads at this point, too.

And I’m always going to say ‘challenge accepted’ when it comes to writing new stuff with Hajime and Shirou. If you feel compelled to bring Hajime back at some point I’m always here to write with you, and there’s so much story to tell with Sonia and Shirou too. I actually have a plot idea development for one of our verses on that front, I just haven’t put it into words yet!

Oh, and of course: Chatting OOC with you is one of the best parts of my day! Politics, spilling tea, me bemoaning that England lost Euro 2020 (the rest of the world doesn’t agree with me and I know it), you sharing your adorable dogs and wine sodas (I’m going to find the wine soda here. Somewhere.), agreeing that Lord El-Melloi II is a SNACC even if the fandom doesn’t agree with us, I adore it all. 

Seriously though I love him he is A++++ husbando material. This is where Sonia and I differ: she loves Shirou and I’m here just “He’s a professor who barely adults and realizes it is, indeed, a crisis when your favorite tearoom is closed. Husband material right here.”

@phantasmalcalamity​

Thank you so, so much for your compliments regarding my Sonia portrayal! That’s really nice of you! I’m not sure that my version is perfect by any means as plenty of people offer different takes on her, but I’m so glad you enjoy writing with her! Our Sonia/Gundham threads have been such a joy to write so far and I hope to continue and do more of them (without adding too much to your plate of course. I’m hoping you start feeling better, first and foremost!). You’re also wonderful to chat with OOC and I love seeing your costumes when you share them. It’s so cool having RP partners who are also cosplayers because you understand that unique struggle of “do I write drafts or do I work on costumes for upcoming con/event?”

I’m trying to balance both but it’s been interesting. Definitely after the fall cons/events I should have some more photoshoot stuff to share. I miss cons and photoshoots so much!

And as promised, some pet/life photo tax underneath the cut!

One of the two usual views I have when writing drafts/shitposting/chatting with you all on discord. Princess Molly received a new bed recently, befitting her royal status. She’s judging the quality of my drafts and wondering when she will be given pets.

And the other view I usually have while on tumblr. I’m missing Paris (and London. And Edinburgh. Let’s just put missing the U.K. and France in general here) quite a lot. I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to go back (probably whenever I go on my honeymoon), so I’m having a small taste of it at home. My family’s going next month, but work wouldn’t give me the time off to join them. 

The Laduree Marie Antoinette tea is my favorite version of the MA tea, and with shipping so expensive, it made sense to grab some macarons to go with it. 

I just miss Europe so much right now. Most of my off-tumblr friends are trying to plan trips to Japan next year, and I’m over here just “I actually miss Heathrow and Charles de Gaulle.”

[twokinkybeans]

Company Chapter 4: Ostara

Moodboard made by Kim <3  

Peter returns to the woods on Ostara. Will he find who he's looking for? Or will someone else find him first?

Warnings for this chapter: Angst with a good ending, magic and folklore, mischief, lightly implied dub/non con.

Go to the Masterpost for all the teaser poems and chapters! Read Company - Chapter 4: Ostara on AO3! —————————————————————————————- I can’t believe I made it! This chapter would not have been posted on time had it not been for Kim, who has majorly helped me out writing this chapter! Thank you so much bean! Words can’t describe my gratitude! <3 The next chapter will be posted on May 1st (Beltane) and will contain only good things so get ready for that! <3 Thank you for reading this chapter, if you do! I hope you enjoy! <3 - Lien

...

Peter knows he shouldn’t stare at the clock every minute of every day but he can’t help himself. The days on his calendar are crossed out one by one but it’s not going fast enough. Never fast enough. Oberon is out there, somewhere, being punished for being kind and good. All Peter can do is wait it out and, by God, does he hate waiting. The final day is the worst by far. The train ride seems to take three times as long as it normally does and the walk from the train station to the woods weighs heavy on his shoulders, almost as if the edge of the forest is miles and miles further than it actually is. When the trees finally appear in his field of vision, Peter can barely contain himself. His feet are on autopilot, quickening their pace as Peter’s heart pumps between his ears. Once he reaches the border of town into the woods, his mind catches up. Peter’s body halts abruptly. His breath catches in his throat and he closes his eyes. “I can’t go in,” he mutters to himself. If he does, the Fae will come for him and he will never be able to find Oberon. They’d make sure of that. Frustrated, Peter paces back and forth along the edge of the woods, trying to think of a way to contact Oberon this far away from where Peter vaguely recalls his cottage being. He doesn’t notice he inches further and further away from town, but he doesn’t really care. He cares about finding Oberon. Nothing else. After half an hour of walking, he opts to sit down right at the edge, just out of the Fae’s reach, but hopefully close enough for Oberon to sense his presence. He crosses his legs and stares intently into the distance. He guesses he will be here a while.

… It’s nearly noon and doing nothing always exhausts Peter rather quickly. He listens to his breathing, eyes scanning past the nature scene in front of him. Sometimes he catches an animal scuttering over the ground between the bushes. The green trees, with the sun shining through them, distort Peter’s vision slightly as his gaze unfocuses over time. He blinks, trying to refocus, but he can’t really fight his sleepiness anymore. “Puck?” A distant voice calls out. The silhouette of a figure appears among the trees in Peter’s vision. The young man immediately perks up. Tears well up in his eyes and distort his vision even further. “Oberon?” “Puck,” the Fae confirms. Peter scoffs relieved, crawling to stand up and once again his feet have a mind of their own. Peter runs as fast as his legs can take him. Oberon spreads his arms invitingly and Peter automatically gravitates towards the Fae. The pull is so strong, Peter couldn’t deny it if he tried. Tears of relief now stream down his face and soon enough, he crashes into his love. The man embraces him immediately, gently stroking his hair as Peter sobs against the Fae’s chest. His grip on Oberon is tight; he’s not planning on letting go anytime soon. “I- I thought- I-” “Sssssh, ssh-ssh,” Oberon shushes gently, not pausing the kind petting. It feels slightly possessive, but Peter doesn’t mind a bit. It’s what he has wished for for all this time he had to wait. It’s what he wants- yearns for. To be Oberon’s. To be Stark’s . Peter’s shoulders shake through his crying and he melts when he feels Oberon’s lips on the top of his head. Oberon’s smell is different, yet intoxicatingly sweet. The fragrance has Peter slightly lightheaded and for some reason, his cock takes interest in it too. There are whispers beyond the trees, but Peter phases them into the background, only for his subconscious to listen to. He doesn’t care about other Fae right now- only about the man he is with. “I thought I lost you,” Peter finally whispers. “You cannot lose what is not yours,” Oberon replies, causing Peter to frown slightly against the Fae’s chest. “For you are mine.” “Not yet,” Peter says quickly, pulling back to look into Oberon’s deep eyes. “But there’s nothing I want more in the world than to be yours.” A wide grin spreads on the Fae’s face. Peter blinks a few times, briefly wondering when this strange fog had appeared and surrounded them. The scent is even more intense than it was before and he sways on his feet, not understanding what’s happening. His head is swimming, but when he vaguely processes Oberon is smiling, the corners of his own mouth gently curl up, smiling along. “Be mine?” Oberon asks. “Please-” “Then give me your name, beautiful. Give me your name and give yourself to me.” Oberon’s hand caresses Peter’s cheek and the young man closes his eyes, leaning into it. “Forever.” “ Peter… ” The tug Peter feels at his heart is wanted now. Needed. It feels delicious and it has Peter leaning against the Fae in front of him even more. He opens his eyes to see Oberon’s face shift into Beck’s, but he feels so good, that he no longer cares. This is where he is meant to be now. With the Fae who knows his name. “ Peter Parker .” ... As the sun begins to set, Tony wonders why he’s still out here. It’s Ostara after all. He should be at home to celebrate the first hints of spring. He may not be a part of the Summer Court, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t respect nature’s natural cycle. Especially since residing in his cabin in the forest he finds himself more in harmony with the life around him, no matter how small. He never misses a celebration. Well, except for this past year. He’s already skipped Samhain, Yule and Imbolc. All because of a boy. Tony sighs when he thinks about Puck’s lovely smile. He should’ve known it to be a bad idea. A relationship between a Fae and a human is destined to go wrong. The power imbalance is too big. It’s too dangerous. Yet, here he finds himself, wandering the edges of the forest in the hopes of perhaps catching even the slightest glance of the boy he’s grown so attached to. Tony knows his attempts are fruitless. Puck is no longer bound to their agreement. He’s not coming back, and while Tony knows he did the right thing… It hurts. “The decades will pass,” he whispers to himself. “You’ll forget about him soon enough. He’s just human, after all." Tony frowns when a sudden, awfully annoying tune demands his attention. It’s a human song, that much is certain. No fae would ever dare playing something this appaling. Somewhat curious, he makes his way over to where the sound comes from. He’ll put a stop to the screeching melody and chase the humans away. He doesn’t like the anxious thunderstorm whirling in his chest. The sound grows louder and louder, but otherwise it’s awfully quiet. Almost as if the tune plays by itself…? Tony pushes past a large low-hanging branch- and stops walking. He stares at the familiar device on the floor and his nostrils flare. Could that… Could that be Parker’s phone? He walks closer, careful in case it’s a trap, and then crouches down. He taps his finger at the back of the phone once. When nothing happens, he turns it around. There’s a large crack in the screen and Tony swallows. He remembers how Puck told him that phones are incredibly expensive. He pushes the button and gasps, nearly dropping the device when the familiar picture of Puck and his aunt lights up underneath the damaged surface. “Parker…” he whispers. Then, louder, “-Parker?” He stands up and his eyes scan past his surroundings panickedly. “Puck, are you there?” When no response comes, Tony can feel the dread settle deep within his chest. He winces as the hurt digs so deep that it nearly physically pains him. Puck had come back for him. Puck waited for him- and Tony hadn’t showed up. Parker would never leave his precious belonging in the forest like this- not even because of the cracks. Something happened. Another Fae must’ve found him. Beck. - It doesn’t take Tony very long to find Beck’s large residence in the midst of the Winter Court’s Royal grounds. He stares up at the large, labradorite granite staircase leading up to the dark, wooden doors. Puck’s phone is clutched tight within his grip. The bothersome, harsh-sounding tune keeps playing every few minutes. It’s been quiet for a short while now, but Tony knows it’ll start playing again at any given moment. There’s no chance he’ll be able to sneak inside unnoticed. Then again, he knows Beck is counting on him to show up. Beck loves to put up a show. Tease and torture poor human beings and then ultimately claiming them to use them as slaves. It’s not unusual. This is how fae are. Tony grew up with the same values. Yet his father had taught him to not take the ordeal lightly, and how to look after human beings to make sure they’re well taken care of. Beck is cruel. Driven with greed and jealousy and every single bad thing the fae have ever been known for in the human world. Tony has to save Puck before it’s too late. Every single fiber in his being wishes for Puck to not have given up his name. If that’s the case… Tony can’t even think about that. Puck may hate him, or despise him all he wants. But Tony won’t let him rot away in this hellhole of a house. Tony straightens his shoulders. While Beck may be royalty, Tony still is the rightful heir of the entire Winter Court. He’s a prince . Beck will have no choice but to let him in. The black-haired fae resolutely makes his way up to the staircase and bangs his fist against the doors. “Beck, I demand access to your property!” The doors swing open and Beck leans against the doorpost with a smug grin plastered on his face. “Ah! What did I do to have earned Your Highness’s valuable time?” Beck cocks his head, but Tony ignores the mocking use of his title. “Cut the playing. I know you have Puck and you’ll give him back to me. He does not belong to you.” Tony says through gritted teeth. Beck laughs, the sound echoes through the large hallway behind him. “I admire your spirited devotion to the human boy, but he is in fact, not yours either. Is he? You should’ve claimed him when you had the chance.” Beck chuckles. “He’s lovely. Come, I’ll show you how… pliant he is under my spell.” Tony feels sick to his stomach. Beck’s twisted words make him want to slit the other fae’s throat, but then he may never see his loved one again. His flower. “Just lead me to him.” “As you wish, Your Highness-” Beck physically flinches when the phone starts it’s awful tune again. The Winter Court Fae’s head snaps around and he stares at the device in Tony’s hand, but he doesn’t comment on it when he sees what it is made of- what it contains. Iron. There’s nothing Beck could do and suddenly, Tony wishes he could dial up the volume even more. He’d happily endure the painful screeching in his ears if he knew it’d torture his cousin. “He’s right here,” Beck announces as he pushes through a large drape hanging from the ceiling. Tony’s heart sinks in his chest. Puck’s body is lifelessly pressed against the back of a throne, only a tight silken rope around his chest keeping him from tumbling forward onto the floor. “Isn’t he pretty?” Beck tuts, circling the seat and grinning wide. “A true treat for my eyes.” “You’re sick,” Tony mumbles, restraining himself from running over to the boy. Shake the limp body to bring his Parker back to life. Beck halts his saunter when he’s at Puck’s side and slowly moves in, planting an open mouthed kiss before speaking. “Do I make you feel good?” It seems to take Puck a lot of effort to lift his head slightly and reply weakly. “Yes, My Lord.” It’s a pleasured sigh, but Tony can hear part of it feels forced. Beck grins victoriously. “Mm, I told him to call me that- doesn’t it sound good as it rolls off his tongue? Finally, I get the respect I deserve.” “You are not worthy of his respect, nor are you worthy of mine,” Tony growls, taking another step forward. “I demand you return Parker to me.” “Return? He was never yours to begin with, Oberon! ” Beck spits out mockingly. “The boy is mine. I have his name. He gave it to me.” The scowl on his face turns downright evil and the heavy weight of desperation sinks in Tony’s chest. “And now I will use him however I see fit. My pretty Peter Parker .”

Tony feels an empty tug at his heart now, but something feels off about it. Incomplete. “You cannot do this!” “No, Tones. I’m a Winter Fae . This-” his voice betrays his delusions. “This is what we do. You! You are a disgrace to your father. To our legacy!” “I-” Their conversation is interrupted when the phone starts playing again. Beck lets out an exasperated sigh and he snarls at Tony. “Stop doing that!” Tony shakes his head, holding his hand up defensively. Beck inches closer and stares at it intently, clearly wanting to rip it apart. The only thing holding him back from doing exactly that is the iron matter inside of it. Only Tony can touch it. Only Iron Man. Beck’s fingers would burn if he’d touch it. Tony has never been more grateful for his strange tolerance towards the substance. “I don’t know how to stop it. It’s human technology.” Beck swiftly turns his attention back over to Parker. He tugs at Puck’s hair roughly to lift his head. Tony swallows when he hears a pained moan fall from the boy’s lips. Beck narrows his eyes and lowers his lips until they’re right next to Puck’s ear. “Dearest,” he whispers. Parker visibly shivers. “Please tell our Prince how to cease the music, will you?” Puck whimpers quietly, his eyelids fluttering a few times but never opening fully. “W-What’s on the screen?” Tony hates how grave Puck’s voice sounds, but he does raise the device and looks past the cracks. It says one simple word and Tony frowns. “May?” Puck’s lips curl into a faint smile and he mumbles something incoherent. After a particularly aggressive tug on his hair, Parker speaks up louder. “Swipe… Swipe the green button to the right and bring the phone to your ear.” Tony wonders why on earth he’d have to bring it to his ear, but he follows Parker's instructions. Carefully, he presses his finger onto the green image in the screen and drags it towards the right. Immediately, the colors on the screen change. Tony’s eyes widen and he quickly brings it to his ear, glancing at Parker for any cue as to what to do next. He- Tony freezes when he hears a surprised breath coming from the phone. Is… Is someone in there? “PETER. BENJAMIN. PARKER- WHERE ARE YOU?” Everything happens insanely fast after that. Tony shivers, his legs buckling as he drops onto his knees. Parker. Peter Benjamin Parker. Tony looks up at the boy and a smile cracks through his face. He ignores the worried shouting in his ear. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters . He feels a light, energetic turmoil within his chest as his magic springs to life automatically, forging his interminable bond with his loved one. Beck approaches, a confused frown wrinkling his face. “What happened? Tony? What are you-” “He’s mine.” Tony breathes, a surprised, hysterical laughter bubbling up in his throat. Beck’s eyes widen at the statement. Tony is a Fae after all, he can’t lie. “What?!” “His name. I have his name.” Tony whispers and stands up again. “His full name.” He walks over to the chair and licks his lips. His fingers tremble when he touches Puck’s- Peter’s - cheekbones carefully. Beck steps away, his eyes big and frightened with his leverage on Tony slipping through his fingers. “No, you do not. He gave his name to me. Not you!” “Peter Benjamin Parker, ” Tony breathes, the name foreign but so incredibly good on his lips. Peter’s eyes flutter again, until they open fully. They’re big and bright and awe-struck. Love-filled. Beautiful . “S-Stark?” “Anthony Stark,” he replies softly, leaning in to connect their foreheads. Peter’s chest heaves as he takes in a breath of fresh air. Beck is already forgotten, his importance ceasing to exist now that the two of them are eternally connected. The Fae and the human smile at each other, grateful for this turn of events and for each other. “But you may call me Tony.”

[jenetica]

A Brief Note from Our Sponsors: Us.

Greetings! If you’re here, it’s likely that you have questions or complaints about our decisions regarding the Calendar Girls series. An ominous start to this discussion, but truly, we welcome you! If you’re here, it means you have been emotionally impacted by our work and, even though this context isn’t the cheeriest, we are so, so grateful you (1) enjoyed our work enough to care about it, and (2) want to develop a better understanding of our process so that you can engage with Calendar Girl more.

First of all, we understand why you’d be upset with us! The cliffhanger at the end of AotM was a DOOZY and leaves a LOT of important questions unanswered, and we left you readers hanging for a LONG time. This post will, hopefully, assuage the worst of your fears without giving away too many plot points.

That being said, please note that there WILL be spoilers ahead. If you want to see the story unfold as we intended, do NOT read this post further. We will tell you now that the post addresses the Deadpool’s identity, our decisions regarding the construction of AotM and the final cliffhanger, our decisions regarding developing the sequel as a prequel, and our plans for future installments. And, naturally, the accusations of “queerbaiting.”

Let’s get started.

QUEERBAITING

It makes sense to open with the most serious issue, so let’s talk about queerbaiting. For anyone here who doesn’t know, queerbaiting is defined as the purposeful insinuation of a homosexual/queer relationship, only to backtrack/subvert that insinuation to avoid the queer relationship. For an example, see: Supernatural from Season 4 and on. 

We have received accusations of queerbaiting for about four years, based exclusively on the reveal at the end of the final chapter. Similarly, we have received complaints that we duped readers into reading hetfic. So, to get things out of the way, yes, Deadpool is Gwen. No, it’s not a trick of the light, or a mistake, or some odd resemblance. They are one and the same. HOWEVER, that does NOT mean that we have queerbaited anyone.

First of all, the tags of the story are honest, and they always have been. AotM is tagged as a “Multi” fic, meaning that there are relationships of multiple orientations involved, and it is tagged with Peter/Gwen as well as Peter/Wade. Careless Whisper is tagged as F/M. We have never suggested or implied that the story would exclusively be slash fiction. We actually left multiple hints that Wade enjoyed femininity, at least as a practice, if not an identity. iFlail and I discussed this issue at length as we wrote/edited AotM and carefully crafted the story with queerbaiting in mind. 

Peter is an unreliable narrator, he always has been, and he always will be. In AotM, Peter assumes Wade is a man and thus, for the purposes of the narrative, Wade is one. The truth, however, is less clean than that. We won’t get into the details here, but safe to say, gender is not binary, it is not permanent, and it is not inexorably linked to one’s biology. Wade has a complicated history and a complicated/unique sense of identity. We have always intended for him to be that way, just as we always intended for him to be notably, pointedly smaller than Peter. 

The accusations of queerbaiting and/or conning readers into reading “het” fic are exclusionary of the greater conversation of gender identity. It was, frankly, disheartening to see so many people assume heterosexuality based exclusively on the last word of AotM. We hope that our work will challenge readers to be more mindful of the expansive world of gender, and to avoid assuming that a specific kind of pairing might involve specific kinds of body parts.

If you have any questions or reservations about our queerbaiting at this point, you are either welcome to keep reading future installments of this work to learn more, or you are welcome to stop altogether. The choice is yours. 

CONSTRUCTING THE STORY ARC - PRESENT, PAST, AND FUTURE

With that hot-button topic out of the way, let’s talk about the greater concept of ending a story of a cliffhanger, our thoughts behind building this series, and our goals for future installments. 

The second part of the Calendar Girl series, Careless Whisper, was written first, and it comes first chronologically. I (Jenetica) initially worked on the story by myself, as an exploration into the concept of “Gwen becoming Deadpool” to see how it might play out. I ended up writing a story I loved, so I moved onto the next part of the story, set four years later. This ended up becoming Angel of the Morning. 

@iflailfic, a good IRL friend of mine from college, came onboard (after I wooed her with several stories worth of porn, as you can see through a jaunt through my posted works) to help me edit. She fell in love with AotM and, as we worked on first draft edits, she floated the idea of AotM coming before Careless Whisper. Honestly, I rejected the idea at first (not sure if she actually knows/remembers that part, lol), because I couldn’t fathom how we would be able to link the parts of the story together. But, eventually, I began to realize her point: AotM introduces our protagonists, develops the “current” world for the series, and has a more dynamic/engaging plot. 

The cliffhanger was a joke at first. My idea. I think my exact words were something like, “LOLOL what if we just ended on ‘GWEN?’ OMG IMAGINE hahahahaha.” But, as we continued to edit… it became the perfect way to end things. Anything that came after that point felt like trash. If we’d expanded any further, we ran the risk of falling headfirst into Part 3 and doubling the size of AotM. Let’s be real, the ending is, all waiting aside, an absolute nuclear bomb on the rest of the story. 

We talked about the likelihood of enraged readers. But we rationalized it by telling each other/ourselves that we had Careless Whisper written, so the wait wouldn’t be too killer.

Best laid plans.

I (Jenetica) take full responsibility for the time it took to start posting again. Over the last four years, I have gone through a number of experiences that challenged my sense of self and pushed me to become a different person, including moving halfway across the country, attending a relatively prestigious law school where I was no longer “the smart kid in the room,” and losing the relationship that I later learned was toxic and abusive. I lost my confidence in a number of ways, including my confidence as a writer. I became terrified that I would never produce anything that lived up to AotM, and that I would disappoint the many (many!) readers demanding answers. Luckily for me, through that adversity I found rewarding friendships, a beautiful partner who treats me the way I’d always fantasized/written about people like me getting treated, and an engaging career that leaves me with enough energy to write. My experiences are mirrored by iFlail, who went through a different, but similarly life-changing, series of events. But through this all, we never lost hope in this story, and we always planned to complete the series. We are wiser, stronger people now, and we both believe that the story will be richer for it. 

Which brings us to now, and our plans for the future. We do NOT intend to wait another four years to post X Gon’ Give It To Ya, the third and final installment of the series. We have spent countless hours brainstorming the plot, and all that’s really left to do is put it to paper. But, for people who are afraid of being burned twice, we will warn you now that Careless Whisper is JUST a prequel. If you want to know what happens after the “Gwen?” reveal, you will not get any answers until XGGITY (which I have, as of just now, decided to pronounce as “Ziggity”). We hope you stick around to watch Careless Whisper unfold, but we will understand if you want to wait until XGGITY to start reading again.

IN CONCLUSION - FINAL THOUGHTS

The Calendar Girl series has received more attention than we’d ever dreamed, and regardless of whether you liked or disliked our work, we want to thank you for taking the time to read it. If you made it to the end of AotM, we did something right, and again, we are so grateful that so many people have stuck with us this far.

We encourage everyone, moving forward, to keep a close eye on the tags that we use for our stories. We may not tag everything relevant, for the sake of preserving mystery about the plot, but we will be sure to tag everything that may be triggering or concerning, like self-harm, violence, or expected brand of romantic/sexual interactions. We will be adding this warning to the beginning of each story in the series.

Additionally, we want to acknowledge that there is a stark difference between legitimate concerns about the story and unfounded attacks on our character. Our decision to make this post is our attempt to dissuade the latter: We are not queerbaiting, and we have no interest in “forcing” people to read content that is not to their taste. However, that doesn’t mean that our execution of AotM, Careless Whisper, and/or XGGITY will be beyond reproach. The conversation on gender politics has evolved tremendously over the years that we’ve been working on this series, and it will undoubtedly continue to evolve as we progress into the future. We encourage constructive (!!!) criticism and open conversation on ways that we can improve our story, even if it involves tweaking published work to avoid mishandling deeply personal issues.

That said, if, after reading this post, you are still upset and/or unconvinced about our intentions for this series, we encourage you to stop reading it. We are not compensated for this work, and we have spent hundreds (probably thousands, by now) of hours striving to make the Calendar Girl series the best that it can be, for our own benefit. We believe that it may be the best fanfiction we will ever produce, and our satisfaction with our work is our priority. We will continue to post with that priority at the forefront, and with the demands of our reader base playing second fiddle. Similarly, we expect our readers to prioritize their needs above all others. We ask for your patience and your kindness moving forward and, if you cannot give us that, you are welcome to close the tab and move on with your life to other ventures that suit your interests better.

For those of you that choose to stay: You are in for a hell of a ride. We are both anxious to get through Careless Whisper, because we are both SO excited to share XGGITY with you. We believe it’s going to knock your socks off. We hope to see you there. 

Thanks, everyone, and happy reading!

[sambergscott]

a valentine’s surprise

Summary: Cheddar had passed the gem stones, they had been sterilised (twice!) and everyone is usually too loved up, or sad, to be out committing crimes, making Valentine’s the perfect holiday for a heist. Except when you had plans that will have to be cancelled. At the end of the day, Jake makes it up to his wife.

(spoilers for season 7 episode 11)

Her Valentine’s starts pretty great, her husband treating her to coffee, heart-shaped pancakes and a card that reads I’m going to make you moan like Myrtle.

(Despite the message on the front, there is a very sweet paragraph inside about how much he loves her and how smart and pretty she is and about how she makes him feel good about the world and his place in it. When she gets to the sentence about how difficult the last few months have been, he thanks her, says that he couldn’t have gone through it with anyone else and reminds her that they are a family - no matter what).

He proudly displays his card from her (a drawing of Hans Gruber falling from Nakatomi Plaza with the words I’ve fallen for you) on his nightstand and lays out his elaborate plans for the rest of the day: quick stop at home after work to shower and change, dinner at a fancy Manhattan restaurant and then, when they’re a little wine drunk and their inhibitions are lowered, salsa dancing.

She pops a piece of pancake in her mouth, chewing slowly as she debates the pros and cons of telling him they can’t do any of that. He will be crushed. He made the reservations last year, added it to their joint calendar and sticks new post-its on the fridge daily counting down to the Valentine’s Day Of The Century. They clearly both need the distraction from eating healthily and monitoring temperature and overly scheduled sex and referring to said sex as uterine deposits and doctor’s appointments, fertility drugs, negative test after negative test and questions from everyone they know. But the heist is due to restart today - Cheddar had passed the gem stones, they had been sterilised (twice!) and everyone is usually too loved up, or sad, to be out committing crimes, making it the perfect holiday for a heist.

Except when you had plans that will have to be cancelled.

“I’m sorry, babe,” she apologises after revealing the news, kissing away his disappointed frown. “We can always reschedule. February 15th can be the most romantic day of the year if we want it to be.”

He doesn’t respond, but she recognises the look on his face from when he’s coming up with a backstory for one of his undercover characters or an explanation as to why the dishwasher is overflowing when there are still dirty dishes all over the kitchen. His expression changes, his lips twisting into a smile, his eyes sparkling - he has a solution.

“What is it, Jake?” She deadpans.

“Surprise,” is his only answer as he wolfs the rest of his pancakes and asks her to shower with him.

Thank God she washed her hair last night otherwise they would’ve most certainly been late to work.

“Morning lovebirds,” Charles says in a singsong voice as soon as the elevator doors open, firing a million questions at them about what they bought each other, how the pancakes tasted (he must’ve got lessons from Charles, which makes the gesture that much sweeter) and whether they’ve already conceived a Valentine’s baby from their love.

Rosa punches him in the arm for them as she walks past.

Of all days to be handcuffed to her husband’s best friend, it had to be Valentine’s Day.

She learns way too many disgusting details about his sex life; he lists the sexiest restaurants in New York from A-Z (his personal favourite is Dining in the Dark that just opened in Parkslope, the blindfolds enhancing all the senses, he explains with a smirk), recommends the best foods to eat off a lover’s body and reads all his texts to Genevieve OUT. LOUD.

Amy shudders at their increasingly gross pet names, trying to focus her attention on Jake from across the bullpen. He’s kept coy about what he has planned for her, her only clue that it will be “hella romantic.”

(She read his lips).

Charles puts his phone away (thank God, she was moments from pulling a Terry and crushing the thing with her bare hands) and they go over their plan once more. Jake and Holt will argue, thanks to her excellent idea to rig the teams, they will mess up and Charles will use his dainty fingers to steal the gems from Bill’s pocket.

Then there are flowers everywhere, the precinct filled with the sweet scent of a billion roses, and in the chaos Scully steals (and swallows) the damn gems.

They end up back at Cheddar’s vet because all the emergency rooms are filled with skeletons and clowns and Harley Quinns having their stomachs pumped and apparently Scully’s body resembles closer to that of a human-sized giraffe with his big ol’ heart and leathery skin than a human-human. The vet reveals the gems are indeed inside of him and the heist is postponed until Easter.

“Hey,” Jake says, grabbing her hand to hold her back as everyone else leaves the surgery. “We’re friends again, right?”

“Yes, babe,” she assures him. Kylie thinks it’s weird how they can go from trash talking back to “babe” and heart eyes with the flick of a switch, but that’s just the way they’ve always been. They’re competitive. They will do anything to win. And they love each other. “Best friends.”

“Awesome,” he grins.

“So, best friend, what do we do now?”

He feigns ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“What’s your big Valentine’s Day surprise? I know you have one.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ames. We’ve missed our reservation. I just need to go back to work to pick up my bag.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.” She eyes him suspiciously, following him to the parking lot and their car and laughing when he turns on a playlist of the Most Romantic Taylor Swift Songs for the drive back to the precinct.

She plays along, acts like nothing is happening, like she doesn’t see the nervous tapping of his hand against the steering wheel or the constant lighting up of his phone with new encrypted messages. He’s even changed his passcode from their wedding date so she can’t unlock it.

When they get to the Nine-Nine, all the Valentine’s decorations have gone, probably removed by the night shift detectives who cannot stand their day shift counterparts, and Jake leads her to the evidence lock-up.

Her thoughts inevitably drift to HalloVeen, to becoming a two time champ and Jake Peralta’s fiancée. To the way he told her to “read the inscription on that there belt”, the way he was already down on one knee when she realised what was happening, the way he smiled when he managed to surprise her. To his heart eyes as he listed the things he loves about her and slid on the ring and kissed her in a way he’d never kissed her before.

She doesn’t know how anyone can argue anything other than her winning that day.

He opens the door and there are hearts everywhere, all the flowers from the delivery guys, a table and two chairs constructed from evidence boxes, a bottle of pinot gris and a take-out bag from her favourite Polish place.

She’s speechless.

“I got Bill to set it up,” he explains, fiddling with his police badge. “I figured if we couldn’t make it to the fancy restaurant, I’d bring the fancy restaurant to you. Kind of. I mean, it’s still a police precinct and the floor is kind of sticky and we’re surrounded by evidence from murder cases, but-.”

She cuts him off with a kiss. “Babe, it’s perfect.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s so romantic. And this is kind of our place, right? Where we had our first for realz kiss, where we got engaged.” She pauses. “Also the flowers really mask the bad smell.”

He breaks into laughter, shaking his head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too,” she replies. “Now can we eat? I had to listen to Charles talk about food all day and I’m starving.”

“Of course, m’lady.” He pulls out a “chair”, ever the gentleman, and kisses the top of her head before sitting on his own stack of boxes. He pours the wine into their NYPD mugs and holds his up in the air. “To us, to Fake Charles, to pierogis.”

“To pierogis,” she cheers, clinking their mugs together.

(And, for the record, when they get home, he sticks to his card’s promise, a very happy ending to Valentine’s Day indeed).

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Off Limits (Spencer Reid) #13

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Tag List: @on-my-way-to-erebor​ , @haileymorelikestupid​ , @angryknightstatesmantrash​

NOT MY GIF

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~ 5 months later~

Ava’s wounds had finally healed, and life was getting back to normal. Her and Spencer decided to move in together. So, they weighed out the pros and cons of each of their apartments and it turned out Ava’s townhouse would work better for them. It was still in a good part of town, the space was better than Spencer’s and rent was cheaper. Spencer packed his things that he wanted to bring with him to Ava’s and sold the rest. Ava sold some of her things to make room for his. She didn’t want him thinking he was moving into her place. She wanted it to feel like his as well. So, they did some remodeling, picking out things together to make the place feel like their home. New paint for the walls, new flooring, some small upgrades in the kitchen. It was the start of something new.

Ava was going over her calendar for the month, making sure she had all important dates marked. When she realized the date. Wait, was it really already March 16th? That can’t be right. With everything going on, moving Spencer in, the remodeling, she’d lost track of time. So, the next morning, she left for work before Spencer did and stopped by the pharmacy. When she arrived at work, she was thankful no one was in yet and headed to the bathroom. The next thing that would happen would change her life forever. Her and Spencer’s life forever.

That night at dinner, she was picking at her food. It was grilled mahi mahi, which was her favorite, but right now all she wanted to do was vomit at the smell of it. Spencer had noticed she’d been quiet all day and now she wasn’t touching her favorite. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hmm? What?” She was pulled away from her daze, looking at him from across the table.

“I said are you okay?” He asked, motioning to her food, “you’ve barely touched your food.”

She nods, “Yeah yeah. I’m great. Sorry, just tired.”

~

A couple days later as soon as she woke up, she felt the urge. She quickly ran to the bathroom and vomited. Spencer had rushed in after her, holding her hair back. “Let it all out…” He softly rubbed her back.

After she was done puking her guts out, she wiped her mouth and flushed the contents down the toilet, “It must have been that mahi mahi I ate last night.” She stood and grabbed a washcloth to wipe her mouth, then brushed her teeth.

“Yeah it must have.” He watched her questionably. She didn’t even eat her mahi mahi last night. She’d left the whole thing on the plate.

~

It was a few days later, when her, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer and Emily went out for dinner. It had become a new Friday night ritual. Penelope and Emily ordered a glass of wine.

“Just a water for me.” Ava said, causing the girls to look at her surprised.

“No wine?” Emily asked.

“oh, honey, are you sick?” Penelope said teasingly.

She laughed it off, “I’d just rather not wake up with another hangover in the morning.”

Spencer wondered what was going on. She would always have a glass of wine if the girls went out with her. A Friday night ritual. Now she wasn’t even ordering one.

~

On Sunday morning, Ava was hanging clothes back up in the closet when Spencer poked his head into the room, “Hey, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?”

“Nope I’m good.” She replied.

He started to walk out, when she stopped him, “Actually, I’m really craving some of that double chocolate chip brownie ice cream you bought last time. Can you pick up some?” She looked at him smiling.

He nodded and returned the smile, replying, “Of course.” As he turned to walk out of the room, he glanced at the calendar on the wall. There were no pink stars by the first few days of the month, like there usually was. It was already the middle of the month. She hadn’t asked him to buy her feminine products this month. Or last month now that he thinks about it.

~

On Tuesday morning, Ava was on her way to the doctor’s office. When she arrived, they did a check up and took a urine sample. She felt like she’d been in the room lying on the bed for forever. She impatiently tapped her fingers on her stomach. Finally, the doctor knocked and walked in. She quickly sat up ready to hear the news.

“Well. Miss Camp, it is true. You’re pregnant.”

~

How would she tell Spencer? They had just settled into the townhouse. They were making a life for themselves and now a curve ball. They hadn’t been trying and they’d been using protection. However, when she was speaking with the doctor about the timeline of when she could have conceived, there was one Friday night after a little too much to drink with the team, they’d had sex and she doesn’t remember them having any protection. He’d told her would “pull out”, which he did but obviously not soon enough, because now she’s pregnant. She couldn’t help but be excited though. She’d always wanted kids. And she couldn’t think of anyone better to have kids with. It was sooner than she would have liked, but things happen. Plans change.

She had to tell someone. She’d kept the secret bottled long enough. So, after the doctor’s appointment, she headed back to work and went straight to Penelope’s office, knocking and peeking her head in,

“Can I talk with you for a moment?”

Penelope motioned her in, “You may.”

Ava closed the door behind her and sat down, pulling something out of her purse, before handing it to Penelope.

Penelope took it and her eyes went wide, she looked in between the ultrasound pictures and then at Ava, “Oh my god!”

“Shh! Shh!” Ava put a finger to her lips, “No one knows. I just got back from the appointment.”

“It’s Spencer’s, right?” She joked.

Ava laughed and nodded, “Yes, Penelope.”

“Oh Ava.” She smiled and admired the photos, “This is wonderful. Congratulations.”

Ava nervously bit her lip as Penelope handed the photos back, “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Spencer. We’ve just settled into my townhouse and starting a life together… now we’re going to throw a baby into the mix?”

Penelope grabbed her hand to comfort her, “Everything’s going to be fine. It’s Spencer. He’s going to be supportive no matter what.”

Ava nods and rubs her finger along the small bean in the photo, “I want to tell him in a creative way. You think you can help me?”

Penelope smiles, “Why of course! I am the queen of creativity!”

~

The two of them had come up with an idea on how to tell Spencer. So, after getting all the supplies, she executed her plan. It was a couple days later; she’d went home early from work and told Spencer to grab dinner on his way home from work. Chinese to be specific because she was craving it. Before he arrived home, she set everything out on the table. She put the ultrasound photos next to a onesie she had made that said “Mini FBI agent in training” on the front and some little baby converse next to the onesie. She’d saw them in the store while shopping with Penelope and couldn’t help herself.

“I swear that line at the Chinese place was long as hell!” Spencer commented, walking through the front door. He walked over to the table and noticed the things right away.

She nervously bit her lip as she watched him from the kitchen. He slowly put the food down, picking up the picture. He didn’t say a word. He just looked at the photo. It all started to come together for him; the food aversion, the no alcohol at dinner, the morning sickness and her not asking for feminine products. How had he not noticed it before?

His silence worried her. Was he going to freak out? Was he going to leave her to raise the baby on her own? He wouldn’t do that. Would he?

“Spence?” She questioned, walking over to him.

“I… uh… need to go.” He muttered before walking right out the door. He hadn’t even looked up at her.

She looked down at the onesie and shoes. He’d took the ultrasound photos with him and left without saying a word. Ava slowly sat down at the table and started to sob.  

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I told you guys it was going to get better!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. xx 

I finally reached 100 followers! Thank you so much for the support. It means the world! 

[patchworkofstars]

I Look At You And I’m Home

Relationship: Remile (Remy (Sleep) Sanders / Dr Emile Picani)

Synopsis: When a bad day at work for Emile derails the couple’s plans for the evening, Remy decides to give him the best possible date night at home!

Word Count: 4,444

Genre: Hurt/Comfort that rapidly turns into pure fluff

Characters: Remy (Sleep) Sanders and Emile Picani, brief mentions of Roman, Virgil, Logan, and Patton

Warnings: Mentions of past insomnia, mentions of a breakup between unnamed characters

Notes: Autistic Emile because I can. Implied autistic Logan because I can do that too. This was supposed to be a short hurt/comfort fic, but then Remy took a small unplanned detour and a whole heap of fluff ensued!

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The sound of the door was his first clue, a soft click followed by a weary sigh. Usually, it would be half-slammed with enthusiasm, and a cheerful cry would ring out of “Remy, I'm home!" or, on special occasions, "I'm back and I brought Starbucks!" But although he strained his ears, he heard nothing more.

“Hi, Em!” he called out, his frown deepening as the silence lengthened. He stretched to see around the side of the sofa, peering over his trademark shades. “Em?” he called again, “Are you okay?” There was only one explanation he could think of for the silence, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

His fears were confirmed a moment later when his boyfriend finally appeared through the doorway from the hall. From the dishevelled state of his hair, it was clear he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. His necktie was loosened and hung at an odd angle, and his shoulders were slumped. A small shake of his head was his only response to Remy's question, and even that motion seemed weary and defeated.

“Babe!” Remy was at his side in an instant. “Hey, girl, are you down for a hug?”

Emile nodded, and Remy wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders, hugging him close. Emile buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in that faint but reassuring aroma of leather, Starbucks, and something uniquely Remy that for him always meant home.

Remy leaned his head against Emile’s, feeling the soft purple hair tickle his cheek. “Sofa?” he suggested, and Emile nodded in reply, clinging on tightly and barely raising his head as the taller man guided him gently over to the couch. There, he finally let his knees give way, and collapsed into the welcoming embrace of both the soft cushions and Remy.

At last, some of his tension began to ebb away, encouraged by Remy’s comforting murmurs of “It’s okay, babe, I’m here”, and “You’re home now, you’re safe, it’s gonna be fine.”

Gradually, his grip on Remy’s shirt relaxed, his white knuckles unfurling until his palms were laid flat against his boyfriend’s chest. He slid them down and around Remy’s waist, hugging him tightly before finally moving back to give him a watery smile.

“Bad day, huh?” Remy asked gently, when experience told him Emile’s voice might be ready to return. “Was it, like, a patient you couldn’t help?” The therapist took most of the stresses and difficulties of his job in his stride, priding himself on finding ways to get even the most reluctant clients to open up. But when his methods failed and he couldn’t help someone in pain, the feelings of not having done enough, or been enough, hit him hard.

Emile nodded, his hand finding one of Remy’s and giving it a squeeze of acknowledgement and thanks.

“So, do you wanna talk about it?”

Emile shook his head. “Can’t. Patient-doctor con… confidentiality.” His words were soft and halting, but determined.

“Oh yeah, that thing. The gossip-killer.” Remy sighed. “Well, could you at least give me, like, an outline? No names, just the part that’s upset you, so I’ll know how to help.”

Emile took a deep breath and released it slowly, considering. Then he nodded. “It was the last session of the day”, he explained. “New patients for couple’s therapy, a man and a woman. The guy was a bit quiet, withdrawn, but that's the way it goes sometimes. I told him no pressure, he could speak when he felt ready to.”

“And I’m guessing he did?”

“Did he ever”, Emile mumbled, scraping both hands through his hair and grimacing. “Halfway through the session he suddenly leapt up, like he couldn't keep it in anymore. He said, ‘I'm sorry, I'm gay. I'm in love with a guy from work.'"

“Damn, girl, that sucks”, Remy murmured sympathetically. “Did the woman yell at him? I bet she yelled.”

Emile took another deep breath and buried his face in his hands before continuing. “Yeah, she did. At him and at me. And she was so loud...” He shuddered at the memory, pulling his cardigan sleeves over his hands and pressing them to his ears.

“That’s rough, babe.” Remy rubbed his boyfriend’s back soothingly.

"Comes with the job, sometimes", Emile mumbled. He sighed, pushing his sleeves back up so he could rub his face with his palms. "I didn't like it, but I understand how she felt. All that time together and it was never real. Two words and it all came crashing down!" He looked despairing at Remy, his face wet with silent tears. “It got me thinking, what if that happens to us?”

Remy took his hand, expression serious, and looked him in the eyes. “Babe”, he said, “I’m gay. I’m in love with a man, and his name is Emile Picani.”

Emile made sound between a giggle and a sob, taking back his hand to swat Remy gently with sweater– or rather cardigan-paws before nestling against him once more. I just got scared, that’s all”, he explained softly, his eyes tracing the geometric pattern of the frieze running around the walls of the room.

He closed his eyes, the pattern suddenly becoming too much. Reaching out blindly, he found Remy’s hand once more and curled his fingers around it, brushing his thumb over the familiar shapes and textures.

“I got scared, Rem”, he repeated in a murmur. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d keep on shining like the gem you are”, Remy told him, his voice low but firm. “But I’m not going anywhere, babe, this fusion is stable. The real question is what I’d do without you to lure me into bed each night with cuddles, and out of it each morning with breakfast.”

At last, Emile's lips overcame the tears to curve into a smile, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend. “It's for everyone to eat together, that's the essence of together breakfast", he quoted, looking up to meet Remy’s eyes.

“You’re darn right it is, babe! And it’s, like, a billion times better than the caffeine I used to live on.”

Emile gave a lopsided grin, reaching up to ruffle Remy's dark hair. "Seems to me you still live mostly on caffeine", he teased.

Remy stuck his tongue out. “Sure, but now I have, like, actual meals too, because I get to look at a gorgeous guy while I eat. Speaking of, what do you wanna do about food tonight?”

He glanced across at the calendar on the wall and Emile followed his gaze, knowing what he was thinking. From this distance, it was too small to read, but they both knew what was written in today's square: "Date Night!" in Remy's bold handwriting with a heart drawn around it by Emile, a reminder they scarcely needed of their regular evening devoted to each other's company.

They usually went out on date nights, to see the latest animated movie, or to eat at their favourite restaurant, or sometimes even for a gaming session at the local arcade. But there was no way Emile could cope with that tonight. After the emotional meltdown he’d endured, his heart and his nerves would need more time to recover before he’d have the strength to face the outside world.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “I know you were looking forward to the movie, and it will have stopped showing by next time.” He forced a smile at Remy. “You go without me. I’ll make a hot chocolate and watch a couple of episodes of Ducktales, then have an early night.”

“Hell no!” Remy shook his head firmly. “You think I wanna see a movie without you, babe? We can wait and watch it together on Netflix. I am not-” - he reached out and booped Emile’s nose to punctuate his statement - “Not leaving my Em all alone after a shitty day at work. Would David ditch Nani for a movie? I think not.”

“You’re darn right he wouldn’t!” Emile’s face relaxed into a grin and he leaned his head on Remy’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around him. “I guess they’d make the best of it and find a way to have a fun date night at home.”

“Mm-hm”, Remy agreed, pressing a kiss to Emile’s purple hair. “Then that’s what we’re gonna do. Tell you what, babe, you go change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. Gimme five minutes to set up, and we’ll make this the best date night ever.”

Emile gave him a tight squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed to their bedroom to find his favourite comfort clothes. As soon as he was out of sight, Remy set to work transforming their mundane living room into a cosy and intimate venue for a date.

If there was one thing Remy excelled at, it was turning anywhere into a comfortable place to nap. When Emile returned, wearing an oversize Steven Universe hoodie and his softest sweatpants, he was greeted by a magnificent pillow fort, large enough to house them both while still feeling snug and secure.

The sofa and chair cushions had been upended and stacked to provide a structure over which almost every spare blanket in the house had been artfully draped. The remaining few covered the floor inside, with a comforter spread on top to give the couple a place to sit or lie as they chose. At one end stood the cornerstone of the fort, the sturdy back of their sofa, positioned to provide a leaning place as well as the main support.

“How did you do all this so quickly?!” Emile exclaimed, flapping the dangling sleeves of his hoodie.

Remy shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “Babe, when you have brothers like Roman and Virgil, you get a lot of practice building dens! We were always making castles, or caves for dragons, or just places to hide from everything.”

Emile laughed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “You’re so talented!” he joked, rubbing their noses together. “Coffee connoisseur, fort-construction expert, fashion icon, and cuddler extraordinaire! I hit the jackpot with you.”

“Nah”, Remy murmured, leaning his head against Emile’s. and closing his eyes. “I’m the lucky one. Thanks to you, I’ve figured out what I want to do with my life.”

“Hmm? And what’s that?” Emile asked, letting go to smile questioningly up at him.

Remy turned away, pushing up his ever-present sunglasses as a rare hint of pink coloured his cheeks. "Doesn't matter. Come on, let's get this date night started. Want to sort out some music while I make us drinks?”

“Tell you what, you choose the music and I’ll make the drinks”, Emile suggested. “I know how many marshmallows I want, and that number is all of them!”

Remy rolled his eyes and groaned in mock horror. “Girl, I don’t know how you can stand all that sugar. I don’t even like whipped cream on my Starbies!”

As Emile laughed and turned to head to the kitchen, Remy added under his breath, “And besides, you’re sweet enough already.”

Emile spun back around, his face lighting up with a gleeful grin. “What did you just say?” he asked eagerly.

Remy’s blush deepened. “Nothing. Just go get those drinks”, he mumbled, making shooing motions.

“Hmm~?” Emile leaned closer, a smile teasing his lips as he peered at Remy. “It didn’t sound like nothing. It sounded like my sassy boyfriend said something mushy!”

“If you heard it the first time, there’s no way I’m gonna say it again!” Remy whined, hiding his red face in his hands.

Emile laughed. “Well okay then, but I’m watching ya, sweetheart!”

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Remy turned to their music collection to pick a soundtrack to their evening. Steven Universe songs usually helped to lift Emile’s mood, but any playlist including It’s Over, Isn’t It would be a terrible choice this time. Something else, then. Emile had handed the decision over to him, so maybe… His hand hovered over his Queen anthology, then drew back. Tonight was for comforting Emile, not twirling him around the kitchen singing at the tops of their voices. There would be plenty of other evenings for that.

Instead, he settled on something classical, turning the volume to a level they’d be able to hear but could comfortably talk over. Swaying a finger idly along to the opening bars, he closed his eyes and breathed in the mingled aromas of brewing coffee and hot chocolate from the kitchen. He could hear Emile begin humming softly to the music, a sure sign he was already feeling more at peace. A rare softness came over Remy’s face as the sound and the scents combined to fill him with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and love. He hesitated for just a second, debating with himself, then slipped into their bedroom to collect something in case he wanted it later.

When he re-emerged, he found Emile making himself comfortable in the fort alongside a tray containing his own hot chocolate, Remy’s black coffee, and a bowl of sweet and salted popcorn. Remy settled down beside him with a grin, slipping one arm around his boyfriend’s waist as he picked up his drink with the other, breathing in the aroma with a satisfied hum.

The steam clouded his sunglasses, so he took them off and placed them to one side. There was no need for them in here, no bright lights or strangers for them to shield him from. Here there was only Emile, and Remy had no need to hide from him.

Looking back at his boyfriend, he met warm eyes shining gently behind rounded frames. He smiled, letting his gaze wander to take in the fading purple hair, the freckles that scattered and danced across pale skin brightened by a faint pink blush, and the soft lips they’d agreed he wouldn’t kiss directly, but whose touch was a frequent delight on his cheeks, his nose, his temples, his hands.

The familiar soft creases formed around Emile’s eyes as he smiled back, wriggling to get comfortable before leaning back into Remy’s embrace, sipping his hot chocolate through a thick layer of melting marshmallows.

Watching, Remy suppressed a chuckle at the pink and white moustache accumulating on his boyfriend’s upper lip. “Hey, Em?” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble.

“Hmm?” Emile looked around, and Remy gently swiped the residue onto his thumb, then licked it away. “You genuinely are, like, ridiculously sweet”, he told his boyfriend, with a grin.

Emile laughed, a bubbling sound of pure joy that filled Remy’s heart with warmth and light. He gazed adoringly back, wondering how he’d ever worried they might not be the right fit. He would gladly spend an eternity hearing that laugh, seeing that smile, tasting the sweetness of Emile’s presence in his world.

He wrapped his arm around his boyfriend once more and Emile hummed contentedly, leaning against him and resting his head on Remy’s shoulder.

“So, how was your day, sweetheart?” Emile asked. “I sure hope it was better than mine.” For a moment his smile faltered, and Remy gave him a sympathetic squeeze.

"I had a pretty lazy day, tbh. I went to the mall and had lunch at Starbucks, then came home and watched that space documentary your nerd of a brother lent me."

Emile sat up abruptly, beaming. "That's great! Logan will appreciate it. I know he sometimes goes overboard trying to ‘educate' you, but he’s just sharing his special interests because he likes you!"

“Yeaaahhh~", Remy drew out the word, grimacing as he did so. "Well, in that case I guess I'm gonna have to try again, because I fell asleep about ten minutes in." He groaned. "God, he'd better not test me on it. The last thing I want is a pop quiz next time I see him. Like, I get that he means well, but some of us are happy wallowing in our ignorance."

“I know." Emile leaned his head against Remy’s. "But I am proud of you for trying. I think Logan just feels left out sometimes, because you're happy to taste all Patton's new recipe ideas and talk with him and me about cartoons. L thinks real space facts are more interesting than Steven Universe, and it frustrates him that none of us feel the same."

“Yeah, I guess so." Remy stretched his legs out before him, wriggling his toes. Then his lips twisted upwards into a wicked grin. "You know, I'd kinda like to see him face off against Virgil. Logan's Scientific Space Facts (TM) versus Virge's alien conspiracy theories. We should, like, get them talking about it sometime, then sit back and watch the fireworks."

Emile stuck his tongue out at him. “You said that about Logan and Roman, and look what happened! They ended up having a three-hour argument about Shakespeare in iambic pentameter!” He booped Remy’s nose. “You’re an agent of chaos, Remy Sanders. Pure, unstoppable chaos.”

“And gorgeous with it!” Remy smirked. “You love me, babe, admit it.”

“Mm-hm.” Emile wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, kissing his forehead. “You’re right, I do love you. You’re the most entertaining real person I’ve ever met.” He winked. “I hadn’t planned on finding you quite this entertaining, as Rose said to Greg, but here we are.”

“Here we are”, Remy murmured, nuzzling Emile’s hair. “It’s been a while, huh, babe?”

Emile smiled, picking up one of Remy’s hands and beginning to trace gentle shapes with his forefinger on the palm. “Mm. I’m glad I stopped by Starbucks on the way home that night.”

“Yeah, me too”, Remy murmured softly. With his free hand, he began idly playing with Emile’s hair. “That was such a crazy night. You probably remember more of it than I do; I was, like, a total wreck back then.”

Emile closed his eyes contentedly. “Maybe, but I still like hearing you tell your side of the story.”

Remy grinned, drinking in the view of Emile’s relaxed smile and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. “Sure thing, babe”, he agreed. “So, that night? It was kinda late and the place was practically deserted. I was sitting all alone in a corner, drinking, like, my third espresso because sleeping after dark always gave me nightmares.”

Emile waved an arm, his eyes still closed. “You had a bad case of loneliness”, he said. “You needed more cuddles and cartoons!”

“You know it, babe.” Remy chuckled. “Anyway, there you were, looking like I felt, with your hair a mess and bags under your eyes, but you were still the cutest thing I’d ever seen.”

Emile laughed, his cheeks glowing pink in the soft light. “It had certainly been a tough day. Too many patients who didn’t want cartoon analogies for their problems.”

"Yep! And just like today, your voice had decided it was sick of trouble and was gonna hide from everything. So all you could do was point at the menu and mouth what you wanted to the barista."

“But she didn’t understand.” Emile groaned at the memory. “She got more and more frustrated, and so did I, and then...” He grinned at Remy, an unspoken cue for him to continue.

“Well, I could lip read because of Virgil having the same problem when he gets, like, panic attacks. So I put down my coffee, rocked up to the counter, and said-”

"'Just get the cute gentleman his grande Caramel Cocoa Cluster Frappuccino, with whip. And I'm gonna pay for it because he looks like he deserves a break!'" Emile burst in, blushing brightly and grinning at the memory. "I hadn't even noticed you before that, but when I turned around you looked even more exhausted than I felt."

“Yeah”, Remy smiled wryly at the memory. “Insomnia’s a bitch, babe, and she had her claws deep into me back then.”

Emile reached up and gently kissed his cheek. “I know, and I promise I’ll be here so you don’t have to go through that again.”

Remy interlaced their fingers with a relieved sigh. “You’re an angel, Em.”

Emile smiled wryly. “Not everyone would agree with that. Remember, I’ve been kicked out of three different offices for ‘excessive noise’, ‘disturbing other users of the building’, and inappropriate ukulele playing during a tenants’ meeting’.”

He sighed, reaching up to run his fingers through Remy’s hair. “Face it, starbabe, you’re one of the few people willing to put up with me on a daily basis.”

Remy leaned into his touch, contentedly closing his eyes. “Yeah, we’re both disasters, babe. But I was, like, way more of a disaster before I met you.”

“Likewise”, Emile murmured, kissing his cheek again. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, today or back then.”

“You turned things around pretty quickly, even then”, Remy pointed out. “We kept giving each other awkward smiles the whole wait, and when your drink was finally ready, it just, like, made sense to sit together. And after a few sips of that ridiculously sweet mess, you recovered enough to say thanks, and to... talk with me. We just, like, started chatting, and one thing led to another. I still don’t know how I managed not to scare you off.”

“Gay magic”, Emile suggested, leaning affectionately against him once more.

“Sure.” Remy snorted. “I mean, that would certainly explain how I ended up lying on the sofa, with my head in your lap and you playing with my hair. Because otherwise I have, like, no idea.”

Emile grinned. “Well, magic or not, it was definitely gay! I suggested therapy might help with your insomnia, and you refused because you said if I were your therapist, you wouldn’t be able to date me. And I pointed out that you could always get a different one, but… I think your brain was a bit scrambled by that point, because you put your arm around me and told me firmly that you didn’t want to date another therapist, you only wanted me.” He blushed. “I said you should sleep on it and see if you felt the same way when your head was clearer. So you decided to try to sleep on my lap, which you did.”

Remy nodded, grinning. “It was the best I’d slept in years, and when the barista woke me up trying to tell you it was closing time, I opened my eyes, gazed up at your adorable face, and said, ‘That was amazing, babe, you’ve gotta let me sleep with you again sometime!’”

Emile laughed, his face burning at the memory. “And I said, ‘Only if you take me on a date first’, and then you said-”

“’You’re on, how about Starbucks?’” Remy chuckled. “You asked if we could at least catch a movie first, and I told you sure. And then you got all eager and started telling me about every animated movie that was on, and asking which I’d most like to see. You just, like, lit up with enthusiasm, and I realised then that I was gone. I wanted to spend the rest of my life seeing your smile and hearing you talk about the things you love.”

“That’s so pure and cheesy, Rem”, Emile teased affectionately, reaching out to cup his cheek.

Remy leaned into the warmth, closing his eyes. "I guess you have that effect on me, babe", he murmured, pressing a kiss to Emile’s palm. His face was burning, and he wondered if Emile could feel the heat of it.

When Emile moved his hand, Remy slid down to nuzzle his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in the sweet mingled aromas of coffee, marshmallows, and Emile. A scent so similar to the one that night, five years ago, but now it filled his heart with a warmth and contentment he could never have imagined back then.

God, he was really going to do this, wasn’t he? The gift in his pocket, which had started out forgettably light, now weighed heavy and constant on his mind. He was going to do this, here, now, tonight. His heart was pounding, his mind scrambling to recall the words he had planned through a giddy haze of nerves and excitement. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, there was a hoarse edge to his voice.

“Emile?”

“Hmm?”

Emile's small noise of response, and his questioning, expectant, utterly intimate expression were enough to conquer Remy's final shreds of hesitance. He was ready. They were ready. It was time.

He kept one arm wrapped loosely around Emile’s waist, while the other reached surreptitiously into his pocket, fingers closing around the small box hidden there. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice light so it wouldn’t betray his nerves.

“You know, babe, I bought something for you earlier. I was gonna wait for, like, the perfect moment, but I guess I’ve realised now that every moment with you is perfect.”

“Sap”, Emile mumbled, grinning as a bright blush spread over his face.

Remy shrugged, giving him a lopsided grin in return. “Yeah, but Olaf was right, some people are worth melting for.” He took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to calm his racing heart. “I thought this Remy rider could keep on riding alone, but now I just wanna be wherever you are. So...”

He pulled his hand from his pocket, opening the box to reveal a gold ring inlaid with a ruby, a sapphire, and a garnet. He raised his eyes, full of hope and anxiety, to meet his boyfriend’s. “Wanna make this a permanent fusion, Emile?”

Emile’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open with a squeal in the back of his throat that grew in volume and intensity until as last his brain recovered enough to translate his emotions into words.

“That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” he yelled, volume control temporarily forgotten in his excitement.

“Uh, yeah”, Remy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I got Roman to help me figure out what to say, although most of his suggestions were Disney references and, like, way over the top.”

Emile shook his head, his eyes shining. “It was perfect, he said firmly, taking the ring and slipping it onto his finger. “Perma-fusion, activate!” He launched himself into Remy’s arms, then added as an afterthought, “Oh, and of course I’ll marry you, too!”

Remy laughed, his face ruby red as he hugged his fiancé tightly. “Yeah, I got that, babe”, he murmured, pressing a kiss to Emile’s cheek. “And I’ll stick around for good, I promise. Life always tastes sweeter when I’m with you.”

********************************************************************************************

@metaphoricalpluto @the-prince-and-the-emo @musikasworld @softestlittlepuffball @evilmuffin @xxladystarlightxx @suyun-doo @pearls-of-patton @patton-in-name @shesavampirequeen @daring-elm @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

Also gonna tag some people who like Remile:

@coconut-cluster @fiive-second-cookies @gryffindorofcabin21 @lovesupportandcookies @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors @sandersfanders

[alternis-dim]

If someone wanted to get into persona, what is the best game to start with?

to be honest, Persona is kind of nice in that it doesn’t matter a whole lot where you start, since each game is a relatively self-contained story which only has brief mentions or cameos of previous entries! some elements of the lore make more sense if you play certain games before others, but it isn’t anything drastic enough to impact your enjoyment. Hell, I started with Persona 5 and was just fine. So I guess I can just sorta talk about the pros and cons of each game as an entry point to the series! I can also briefly describe their premises in case a particular one seems more interesting, which could help someone with deciding where to start.

this is gonna be long, so I’ll put it under a read more.

Persona 1/Revelations: Persona is the only game I wouldn’t recommend playing first. Its mechanics are pretty outdated and not reflective of the rest of the series, and it’s relatively short compared to the others as well. Not to say that it’s not worth ever playing! In fact, from my understanding it has wonderful characterization, an engaging plot, and lays important groundwork for the franchise’s worldbuilding. I just wouldn’t recommend it for getting a taste of what the series is like.

Persona 2: Innocent Sin is the first of the dual entries for the Persona 2 duology. It has some of the same cons I mentioned for the first game; it’s relatively old, so its mechanics are a little outdated, and it plays more similarly to an SMT game than the future Persona entries do (for example, the story is fairly linear and occurs over the course of a few days, whereas later entries are strung out over a year). It is a little more refined, though, and the formula is starting to get there. It also has, in my opinion, some of the best character writing in the series.

P2IS is a story about how strange occurrences are brewing in the city of Sumaru because of a phenomenon where rumors actually influence and/or become reality. A group of high schoolers get tangled up with a mysterious man named Joker, who can supposedly grant wishes and, for some reason, seems to hold a very personal grudge against them. They discover their ability to call upon Personas to defend themselves from the demons at his command, and soon end up teaming up with journalist Maya Amano to get to the bottom of Joker’s identity and the source of the rumors which are warping the city. Over the course of their journey, they slowly start to piece together their past in order to figure out why Joker seems so invested in them.

Pros: - Stellar character writing- An intriguing, interconnected plot which is a bit of a rollercoaster but a lot of fun- Lays the groundwork for lore in the Persona series (most importantly the existence of Philemon and Nyarlathotep, as well as the origin of the Velvet Room)- Incredibly mature takes on the impact of trauma and familial abuse (TW for both of those things though)- Canonically bisexual protagonist with a potential same sex dating optionCons:- Unavoidable random encounters and really grind-heavy, as most 90′s jrpgs go- Outdated mechanics that aren’t really reflective of future Persona entries- One of those wiki-heavy games: it’s damn near impossible to unlock certain character interactions or personas without use of a guide- The second game in the Duology, Eternal Punishment, isn’t nearly as accessible to English audiences

Persona 3 is where a lot of the series formula originates from! It’s also my personal favorite, but I’ll try my best to be unbiased describing it. Small note: I recommend playing Persona 3 FES specifically, since it refines a lot of the things that were clunky in the vanilla version, adds more character content, and features a post-game which answers a lot of questions.

P3 takes place in a coastal city called Iwatodai at the beginning of the school year, where the protagonist moves in as a transfer student after being bounced around in foster care for ten years following an accident which killed his parents. Upon arrival, he experiences the strange phenomenon of the Dark Hour: an extra 25th hour in the day where people are transformed into coffins and monsters roam free. Technology doesn’t work during this hour, and anyone not protected by a coffin is violently attacked and seems soulless the next day, a condition local news dubs Apathy Syndrome. A select few people have the potential to stay conscious during the Dark Hour and protect themselves by use of a Persona, and these people make up a unit called the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad (S.E.E.S.). The protagonist joins, and the game follows their investigation of the phenomenon. It’s considered the darkest entry in the series, and for good reason: “memento mori” is right in its introduction. The game focuses heavily on themes of death, what it means to be mortal, how people deal with being confronted with their mortality, what the point of life is, and much more. 

Pros:- Introduction of the Persona formula: school life and dungeon exploration which requires time management on a linear calendar, the knockdown/1-more feature in combat, all-out-attacks, social links. Starting with this game may actually be the best way to go gameplay-wise, since coming back to this game after playing later entries makes it seem clunky.- Dungeon-crawl style of gameplay, which is a lot nicer than random encounters. You explore randomly generated floors and choose when and where to ambush enemies.- Excellent character arcs which enrich the game’s narrative- A dark, mature, and interesting story which explores human natureCons:- Still an older game, so some controls are clunky. One game mechanic in particular that many are frustrated with is the inability to directly choose what moves your teammates will use, instead requiring you to use Tactics to direct how the AI should behave.- Probably has the worst pacing issues out of any game in the series. There’s an entire calendar month where you do basically nothing.- The post-game is grind-heavy and long for the amount of story it offers. Some people just recommend watching a playthrough.- Features an uncomfortable transphobic skit towards the middle of the game.

Persona 4 is a refinement of many of the features of Persona 3. The best version to play is Persona 4 Golden, since it has a lot of extra content, but it’s vita exclusive and I’m stuck with vanilla :( Vanilla’s still fine in my experience, at least!

P4 takes place in the small town of Inaba, where the protagonist has transferred for a year to live with his uncle and cousin due to his parents leaving the country for work. Shortly after his arrival, a bizarre series of serial murderers start to occur where the bodies are found strung up on telephone lines. There’s also a rumor that looking into a turned off television screen on a rainy midnight will reveal your soulmate; this rumor is referred to as the Midnight Channel. The protagonists and friends inadvertently discover a parallel world which exists alongside Inaba, which can be entered through televisions but which can’t be exited without the help of a mysterious denizen named Teddie. They discover that these worlds are linked; people who show up on the Midnight Channel turn up dead in the real world shortly after, and the weather is inverse to Inaba’s. They discover that this is because someone is throwing people into this world, who are then unable to escape, and that the Shadows living in it become violent when the fog lifts (inverse to when the fog settles in the real world). This world also has an interesting quirk: people who enter it end up confronting their own shadow, which is a manifestation of the parts of themselves they repress or deny. Denying your shadow leads to it attempting to kill you, and this is likely what caused the deaths of the first victims. The protagonist and team discover that confronting and accepting your own Shadow, however, turns it into a Persona which you can then use to combat the monsters in the world. Equipped with their unique knowledge, the team sets out to save victims, solve the murder mystery, and learn how to accept themselves.

Pros:- A powerful message about the importance of seeking the truth and accepting all facets of yourself- An absolutely incredible murder mystery with clever plot twists and high stakes: getting the true ending is actually difficult if you don’t know who the murderer is, and you’re expected to understand the themes of the game and the characters in order to get it.- A nice in-between for the mechanics of P3 and P5: it’s pretty easy to transfer to either one after playing this one. (also introduces the ability to control party members directly, thank god)- A TON of spinoff content if you find you enjoy the characters and setting- Probably one of the best games in terms of understanding the overarching lore of the series, since it explains how Personas and Shadows work in much more depth than other entriesCons:- Has sort of a wonky difficulty curve. The first couple dungeons are honestly kind of a pain in the ass because of how level scaling works, and it takes a little while to level out.- The character arcs aren’t quite as well-written as previous games, due to the ultimate personas being associated with social link completion rather than events in the plot.- Oh god, such clumsy handling of LGBT topics. Plays around the idea of a gay narrative for one character (Kanji) and a trans narrative for another (Naoto) but ultimately just ends up playing up stereotypes and then backing out before doing anything “risky.” Another character in the party is pretty homophobic to Kanji for a while too, which sucks.

Persona 5 is the most popular in the series for sure, and for good reason. It’s the complete culmination of the Persona formula, and it adds all sorts of stuff to the gameplay and lore. It has a pretty lovable cast, to boot. Not that it doesn’t also have its problems, imo.

P5 features a protagonist who was falsely convicted of assault after attempting to defend a woman from a drunk man harassing her. His criminal record and probation result in his expulsion from his home school, so he moves in with a family friend in Tokyo where a school will accept him until his time’s up. Tokyo’s been strange for a little while now. Mysterious incidents have been causing disruptions for a while. There’s been a surge of “psychotic breakdown incidents” in which people act out unpredictably for seemingly no reason, and on rarer occasions “mental shutdowns” where people seem to completely break and die shortly after. The protagonist and friends get tied up in nonsense pretty quickly when a mysterious app on his phone transports him to a parallel world in which real locations of Tokyo are warped beyond recognition. The protagonist discovers the power of persona pretty early on, which he uses to fight the enemies there. With the help of a strange creature named Morgana, they learn that this is the “Metaverse”, a space in which the twisted desires and perceptions of people are made manifest. It’s a space where a person’s Shadow lords over a “Palace”, an altered version of real-world locations which reflects how that person views the world around them. They also learn that personas are the result of having a strong, rebellious will, allowing you to control your Shadow in combat. By breaking into a Palace, defeating the Shadow, and stealing the “Treasure” at its core, the Palace will crumble and the person in real life will come to grips with the morality of their actions, effectively outing themselves. This is referred to as stealing hearts, and the Phantom Thieves are born; they quickly become infamous in Tokyo, though their reputation attracts unwanted attention, as well as blame… could those breakdown incidents be related to the Metaverse, too? This game focuses heavily on the corruption of society, the abuse and manipulation of people in power, the ways in which our circumstances force us to hide parts of ourselves, ideas of justice, and all sorts of fun ideas of “rebellion”.

Pros:- ABSOLUTELY the best gameplay in the series. The controls are smooth, the battles and UI are streamlined, the visuals are absolutely stunning. This is the one that’s most fun to actually PLAY, bar none.- More of a stealth/heist game than a dungeon crawler, which is a fun spin on the series.- Excellent social commentary on the injustices young people face in a system stacked against them.- A really lovable cast of characters, and social links which actually grant you access to helpful gameplay features as incentive. Cons:- Sort of a small thing, but one of the game’s twists is a lot more fun to figure out if you’ve already played at least one other entry in the series.- Has some serious writing issues. The game has a very strong first half, but then starts to feel rushed the further along you get after a certain point. You can tell that the developers wanted to fit in a lot, but didn’t quite have the time to refine the ideas they implemented.- On that note, some of the character writing starts to regress or even becomes contradictory.- Has a couple instances of homophobia surrounding the Red Light District.

This got long, sorry, but I hope it’s helpful! like I said, you really can start anywhere, and you don’t have to play them in a particular order. Just pick the ones that seem the most interesting and have fun!

[thejollyroger-writer]

Love After Death: The Afterlife Hotel

a/n: it’s HEEEEEERE, my first piece for this year’s CSSNS! I’m so excited to share all three stories I have for you all this year -- it’s just the beginning! Extra special thanks to @captainsjedi for her lovely, perfect art that conveys a sense of spookiness that I didn’t even know I was going for, and to @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ and @kmomof4​ for being my eternal cheerleaders -- plus all the ladies in the Discord chat! And, of course, @cssns​

Tagging those who showed interest when I posted a snippet in March, or who asked me to -- thank you all for your readership! @winterbaby89​ @teamhook​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @jwolf18791​ @killianjones4ever82​ @superadam54​ @kingofmyheart14​ @aprilqueen84​ @capswantrue​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @gingerchangeling​ @welllpthisishappening

SUMMARY:  Emma Swan has spent sixty years in the afterlife believing she was never going to meet her real soulmate, after believing in the wrong name tattooed on her wrist. But when she keeps seeing the same new blue-eyed guest of the Afterlife Hotel around, might she be able to learn how to love again?

Also on AO3!

--/--/--/--/--

Emma Swan stands at her desk, staring down at the calendar that she’s not sure why they even bother to have in the first place. Time is meaningless here. Sure, the "sun" rises and sets on opposite sides of the building on a 24 hour cycle, but time doesn't actually pass anymore. 

Except… if there wasn’t a desk calendar, if she was only going by the date in the corner of her monitor screen (though also unnecessary), she probably never would have realized that it was once again the third day of July in the real world. She almost definitely would have allowed the day to pass by uneventfully, would have completely forgotten the same way she wishes she would have forgotten every other year. 

Sixty years. It’s been sixty years to the day since the first time she entered this very hotel. No family, even when she was alive. Abandoned as a child, never finding a family of her own beyond the sole person she believed was her family, the one that she believed was her soulmate — but, in the end, he was her demise, the name she should have avoided instead of married. 

She had a fifty-fifty chance, like everyone else in the world. It was a stupid concept, she always thought it was: her soulmate’s name on one wrist, and the name of her enemy, very likely the name of the person that would cause her death, on the other, just like everyone else in the world. But she learned the hard way that she made the wrong choice, and by putting her trust in the name on her right wrist and not her left, she suffered more than just heartbreak. By trusting Neal instead of running away the moment he introduced himself — perhaps even before that, now that she's had time to look back over the time they spent together — she was killed.

She remembers the moment her names appeared as if it wasn't almost seventy years before. That's the funny thing about being dead, she guesses (if there was anything funny about it) because the sixty years she's been dead have felt like nothing compared to the nine years between the time her names appeared on her twenty-first birthday and the moment Neal smiled above her as he slid his dagger into her heart. His handwriting on her right wrist, the curling letters of his signature, seemed much more attractive than the scribbles that she stopped trying to decipher before she turned 22. By then, she had already met Neal Cassidy, had already convinced herself that she loved him beyond the presence of his name on her wrist, and he had conned her into believing he loved her, too, up until that very last moment. 

Sixty years. Sixty years since her death. But it was dying that led her to find something really worth living for, even if she never got the chance to meet her real soulmate. And it was still just the "beginning."

Emma still remembers that first day, greeted by a smiling Mary Margaret Nolan. Smiling, as if there was something to be happy about. Emma knew that she had died, was very aware of it, given Neal left her to die a very slow and painful death — but the last thing she expected after the “bright white light” was an elevator ride down to the lobby of a hotel, especially one with a smiling brunette behind its counter.

“Hello!” Her voice was chipper, almost fake, but her smile most certainly was not. “Welcome to the Afterlife Hotel!” 

“Really?” Emma remembers quipping immediately, not even trying to hide the look of disgust on her face. She was already trying to do too many things to control what was showing on her face.  “You couldn’t even come up with a better name?” 

But Mary Margaret was resilient, moving on without so much as acknowledging Emma’s comment, and when she asked Emma what she wanted to do — if she had any family she wanted to wait for, anywhere in particular she wanted to be — all Emma felt was empty. Sure, the emptiness tried to veil itself with snide remarks and humor, as it always had, but none of it got any further than her own mind.

“No.” Her voice was soft. “No, I — I have no one.” 

It was Mary Margaret’s job to lead her through the afterlife, to help her decide where she will spend the rest of eternity. But, instead of a decision, Mary Margaret helped her find a “family” for the first time in her life (well, uh, death), people that actually cared for her. Mary Margaret and David Nolan, the first parental figures Emma has ever had, and all she had to do was die to find them. 

Thinking back on this memory, she smiles down at her desk, unconsciously drawing a light circle around the “3” with her pencil. 

And that’s why she doesn’t immediately notice when the doors to the elevator right in front of her open, revealing perhaps the most awestruck man to have come through those doors that Emma had ever seen. 

“Bloody hell!” he yells, literally falling out of the elevator and onto the floor, simultaneously pulling Emma back to reality. 

Well, that’s certainly interesting, Emma thinks, her eyebrows flying quickly up her forehead as she watches him, dumbstruck, as he struggles to get up off the floor. In all the years she’s spent here, she’s only ever seen people walk through the elevator doors, usually slowly and questioning everything around them just as she did sixty years ago (to the day). 

But she’s never seen anyone fall out of it. They’ve always been on their feet after the long, slow ride down, able to pull themselves together a bit until the doors finally open and they find themselves in the lobby. 

“Pardon me, lass, where — what the hell happened to me?” His deeply-accented question pulls her out of her stupor, and she blinks a few times before completely returning to reality — and when she does, she almost finds herself in a daze again as she takes him in. He’s tall, muscular, but lean, his grey jeans tight against his legs and low on his hips with a plain white t-shirt under a black leather jacket, the v of the neck falling low enough to show what Emma assumes is just the beginning of a sea of black hair covering his chest, matching the shade that covers his head and the stubble on his cheeks. 

“You’re—” she starts, but looking down at the desk, she remembers where she is, what her job is, and pulls her best customer service smile to her face. “Welcome to the Afterlife Hotel!” she says, her voice much cheerier than she intended it to be, though she blames it on the confusion quickly filling the air of the lobby. 

Slowly, he takes a few steps towards her as he swivels his head from one side to the other, taking in the sights of the lobby around him: the grey stone floors, the deep red walls and high white ceilings, the crisp white and grey furniture and abstract paintings on the walls. Then he stops just a few steps away from the desk, and when he turns his eyes to her, the air in her lungs suddenly gets very heavy — because in them, she finds the brightest blue she has seen, definitely since the first time she walked across this same lobby, but she believes probably since the day she was born. 

“Come again?” he asks, one dark eyebrow raised high on his broad forehead, almost lost under the strands of dark hair that fall close to his eyes. 

“You’ve found yourself in the afterlife,” she replies, dialing down the chipperness of her voice, but not losing it entirely. “This is the Afterlife Hotel, for lost souls and those waiting for others to join them.”

“The Afterlife Hotel,” he repeats, the same skepticism in his voice that she remembers from her own that very first day, though she manages to keep the smile off her face that she feels trying to start. But when he adds, “You really couldn’t come up with a better name?”, she is useless against it anymore, and the smile comes paired with a small laugh. 

“What’s so funny about that?” he asks, moving to fill the rest of the space between himself and the desk. 

She begins to shake it off, ready to tell him that it was nothing, but something in his bright blue eyes makes her snap her mouth shut and reexamine this choice. She doesn’t realize that she has remained silent until his eyebrows slowly move up his forehead once more, wordlessly coaxing her to say anything. 

So she does. 

“It’s just… moments before you came through the elevator, I was thinking about the first day I ended up here, and I — when I heard the woman behind the counter tell me where I was, I asked her the very same thing.” 

“Is that so?” he asks, the beginnings of a smile forming on his face, and it is, without a doubt, one of the most brilliant smiles she has ever seen, even half-formed. “So, what do I do here, love? Tell me more about this hotel of yours,” he says, the smile staying as he leans forward onto the counter, resting on his elbows. She realizes that one of his hands is a prosthetic, but a very technologically-advanced, real-looking one.

“Well,” she says, playing along and leaning towards him, as well — though she will absolutely refuse to admit how much she enjoys it. “This is the first stop of the afterlife. From here, you can choose to move on to the place of your choice, depending on what you believed during your life, you can wait here for your loved ones to arrive — of course, if you have loved ones waiting already, I can find them for you —  or you can just… stay here.” When he says nothing, she feels the need to fill the silence that settles between them. “Do you…” she starts, but when his eyes flash up to meet hers, her breath gets caught in her throat for a moment and she needs to start over. “Is there anyone for you to wait for?” She doesn’t mean for it to, but her voice is barely a whisper, again thinking of her first day here and the fact that she had no one, either. Is that what she recognizes in this man’s eyes: loneliness? Sadness? 

He shakes his head, failing to hide the way his thumb presses into his left wrist for a moment, and when his tongue flicks out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip, she finds herself oddly distracted by the movement, unable to tear her eyes away, especially when a shadow of a smile appears on those very same lips. “Afraid I only have one, and that asshole had the audacity to continue to live his life when I was taken prematurely.” Emma just nods, not entirely sure how to respond to that, though when he opens his mouth to speak again, all worries about that have faded away. “So, I can just… stay here, until my brother gets here?”

At this, Emma smiles, leaning against the counter once more. “Well, yeah. That’s the main purpose of this establishment, and if you give me your name, I can direct you to your room.”

“Of course, lass. Killian Jones, at your service,” he says, holding his hand out between them, but when she takes it, instead of shaking it, he lifts it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the edge of her knuckles. 

She stills for a moment when he releases her hand before turning her attention back towards the computer as she tries her hardest to not let her response to his actions show on her face. “Emma Swan,” she breathes, typing his name into the system. Looking away from him, she misses the way his eyes widen at her revelation, his eyes falling to his still-covered right wrist resting on the counter, though he pulls himself together quickly enough to wipe the look from his face before she turns back to him.

When she sees what the screen is telling her, she is useless against the smile that spreads across her face. “Well, Mr. Jones, room 715 has been all set up for you, and you can get there with the elevator behind the desk.” 

He smiles at her and moves to leave, but before he does, his eyebrows knit together, and Emma can sense a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Can I ask you something, love?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Does every person that dies come through here? Because, forgive my bluntness, love, but isn’t that a hell of a lot of people?” 

She smiles at this, too, remembering that it took her close to two months in this very hotel before she even thought of the same question. But here, this gorgeous, handsome man — Killian, she reminds herself, realizing that it somehow fits him perfectly, if names can do that to people — has thought if it within his first few minutes. “You’re right,” she says, directing her smile towards him. “If everyone came through here, that would be a hell of a lot of people. But we don’t get everyone. If people have a chosen afterlife, no one to wait for, or if the person they are waiting for has already moved to a specific afterlife, they don’t come through here. Here, we only get the lost souls.” 

“Well, darling,” he says, his voice just above a whisper, leaning across the counter until she can feel his warm breath on her cheek. “I’m glad being a lost soul has led me to you.” 

When he winks, by far the most straightforward flirting that Emma has ever experienced, she feels her breath leave her lungs, her heart beating heavily in her chest — and then it is gone, the man backed away from the counter, the sparkle that she noticed in his eye disappeared. 

“I’ll be getting to my room, then,” he says, taking another step away from the desk. “I hope to see you around, Miss Swan.” He flashes her a momentary smile before passing the desk, and she ignores her desire to turn towards him as he walks away from her, even as the bell for the elevator dings on its arrival. 

“I sure hope so,” she whispers finally, only allowing herself to turn in the direction he walked in when she hears the elevator doors closing. 

 --/--/--

She does see him around, somehow more than she sees all the other guests at the hotel. She sees him two more times that same day, both on her lunch break and when she eats dinner with the family she has found here. Of all the places available to eat, he chooses the same one as her, not just once, but twice in one day. 

As she sits between Mary Margaret and Ruby at the table, trying not to stare across the room where he is sitting against the wall, a book perched on the table under his prosthetic hand which his other holds a mug, Emma tries to ignore the mathematical improbability of the two of them being in the same place twice in one day, in an area as large as not just the Hotel, but the whole area around it. 

She tries to ignore it again the next day as he’s sitting in the corner of her regular coffee shop, sitting in the same position as the night before when she shows up to get her morning coffee. 

And when he is sitting on a bench in the park when she chooses to go there instead of to lunch. 

(And then that same night in her dreams, but that’s not something she wants to admit to anyone, even herself.)

Three nights later, sitting at their favorite bar, Emma can’t stop her eyes from wandering to where he is sitting in the corner, his attention still on the book sitting in front of him. 

“Emma, come on,” Ruby says, nudging her shoulder with her own, and Emma turns her eyes back towards her friend. “What’s gotten into you? Every time I’ve seen you this week, you’ve been distracted.” 

She just shrugs, taking a sip of her beer. What would she even tell Ruby? That ever since this man fell through the elevator doors, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him — not to mention the handful of times she has seen him since he showed up? That she has never felt as connected to anyone as she feels connected to this man, who she hasn’t even had the nerve to talk to since she first saw him? She stopped believing long ago that she would ever be able to find the same happiness that she thought she found during her life with Neal — but how would she ever admit to anyone, even her closest friend, that just being in the same room as him has been making her hopeful again?

This, of course, is when she realizes her eyes have turned towards him again, and when Ruby swivels her chair around completely to follow her gaze, the man in question raises his eyes from the book held in front of him and finds Emma’s embarrassed gaze, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile. 

When Ruby turns back towards Emma, she is smiling, as well, though hers is much more malicious than Killian’s. 

“Oh, he’s a hottie!” she says, perhaps a little too loudly, and it does nothing to help the blush that has already started rising up her cheeks. “Do you know who he is?” 

Her eyes flit back towards the bar, her index finger slowly running around the rim of her glass. She knows she is useless against Ruby’s ability to find information, to pull her darkest secrets out with just a question and a flick of her eyebrow, so she does not even try to hide the answer to this one, though even this does not stop the sigh that escapes her lips. 

“His name is Killian. He just — he just got here a few days ago.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Ruby says, swiveling in her seat once more, not even trying to hide the obviousness of what she is doing. “I’ve seen him around a few times.” 

“I’ve been…” she starts, then drops her eyes down to the bar, pursing her lips. 

When she stays silent for a moment too long for Ruby’s liking, she begins to beat on Emma’s shoulder with her hand. “Come on, Emma, spill!” 

“I’ve seen him far too much for it to be a coincidence,” she says finally, the words practically spilling from her lips, though when she does say it, it’s as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, from letting out what she has been keeping in for the past few days. 

Ruby’s eyes go wide, a smile spreading across her face. “What do you think it means, Em?” 

She leans closer to her friend, allowing her eyes to flit up to Killian for a moment, relieved to see that his attention is back on his book. “At first I thought he was following me,” she admits, releasing her glass to hold her head in her hands. “But then he started already being in places I spontaneously decided to go, and I knew — it definitely wasn’t that anymore.” 

Ruby’s eyes are wide when Emma finally turns towards her. “So you just keep running into this incredibly beautiful man and doing nothing about it?” 

“What am I supposed to do about it?” 

“Christ, Emma, have you even tried talking to him?” 

“Well, no, but — how — “ she sputters, and Ruby reaches between them to cover Emma’s hand with her own. 

“Oh, honey,” she whispers, smiling at her friend. “How long has it been since you flirted with a man?” 

She presses her lips in a tight line as she tries not to think about the answer to this question. Sure, there have been a few flirtatious moments since she got to the Afterlife Hotel, but the last person she really flirted with was Neal, the man she fell in love with during her life — the man that killed her. 

And what is even the point of flirting in the afterlife, when she’s already missed her chance to meet her soulmate?

In place of responding, she just shakes her head. 

Ruby smiles, a soft, gentle thing, as Emma finishes her beer, Ruby flagging down the bartender for another. "I promise you, Em, it really isn't that difficult."

"No offense, Rubes, but that doesn't really make me feel any better, coming from you."

"I mean, I could always go over and flirt with him myself just to show you how it's done, if that would make you—"

Emma stops her before she can say anything else. "No, that's... that’s not necessary."

Ruby turns around once more, her eyes flitting to the handsome man in the corner. "Are you sure? Because it’s certainly a sacrifice I would be willing to make for my best friend."

"I'm definitely okay."

Ruby's shoulders visibly sag. "What a shame." When Emma has no response to this, Ruby turns back to her, taking a moment to look at her friend's face, though her attention is still on the man in the corner. A beat later, Ruby says, "You know what that means, though, right?"

When Emma finally pulls her eyes back to Ruby, the first thing she sees is the grin spreading across her face. "What?"

Ruby leans over and gently bumps her shoulder. "This means you need to go talk to him yourself."

Emma feels her cheeks redden upon understanding this. "You're sure there's no way for me to get out of this?" she asks, a shy smile forming on her face in hopes her best friend will let up.

"No chance. Either you go talk to that gorgeous specimen of a man, or I'll do it myself."

Emma takes a deep breath, then a quick gulp of her beer, before pushing herself off the stool and, beer in hand, walking across the room. 

With his attention still between the covers of the book sitting in front of him on the table, he does not notice her moving towards him until she slides into the booth across from him, the cheap pleather groaning beneath her movement. 

“Are you following me?” she asks, and for a moment he thinks she’s serious, until his eyes move from the pages in front of him to her smiling green eyes. 

“If I remember correctly, love, I was already enjoying a nice quiet night in this pub with my rum and my book when you and your friend showed up here.” 

“It’s not just here, though,” she says, not even meaning to lean towards him with her forearms on the table, but she doesn’t stop herself when she realizes this is what she does. “Have you noticed that?” 

“Aye,” he says, the corner of his lips ticking up in a momentary smile. “I have noticed that you and I always seem to be in the same place at the same time.” 

“And you haven’t even said anything,” she jokes, pressing her fingertips to her heart in mock indignation. 

Here, he leans forward, as well, the tips of his fingers brushing against her knuckles. “Either have you,” he whispers, pausing for just a moment before he leans back against the booth behind him, which groans under the shifting weight. “What finally got you to build up the nerve?” 

Emma tries her best to smile at him, but she feels the edges of her cheeks heat up as she realizes she is about to tell him the truth. “Well, my friend Ruby over there —” when she points, they both turn their attention towards her only to find that she is watching them intently from the bar. But, because she is never ashamed or embarrassed, she just smiles at them, waving her fingers in their direction as Emma continues. “—threatened to come over here and talk to you herself if I didn’t do it, and she… Well, she’s much more straightforward than I could ever be.” 

“And what? You were afraid that I would be unable to combat her charms?”

“Ruby and I have been friends here for almost fifty years, and I have yet to see a man who is able to combat her charms.” 

“Fifty years,” he says under his breath, then snaps his eyes up to meet hers as if he didn’t really mean to say it out loud. “Emma, if you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been down here?” 

Pressing her lips together, she takes a quick sip of her beer, avoiding his eyes. “Sixty years, almost exactly,” she says softly, and she fears that he did not even hear her — until his hand covers hers on the table, a movement which causes her to raise her eyes to meet his gaze. “The day you came here was sixty years to the day,” she continues, her thumb moving gently over Killian’s hand as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

(Because, she refuses to admit, it just might be. Because, she refuses to admit, sitting here with him, the soft feel of his fingers against hers, feels like all the pieces of her world slowly moving into place — which has to be, of course, an exaggeration.) 

“Sixty years is a long time.” 

“See, that’s the funny thing,” she admits, trying to avoid the fact that she is about to discuss her life with a man she’s had exactly one conversation with before, a conversation that she had to have with him as part of her job. “Because I was alive on earth for half of that, and the time I spent here feels like moments compared to everything I went through when I was alive. At least here, I found myself a family, which is more than I could ever say for the time I spent there.” 

They sit in silence for a few moments, though neither of them feel awkward through it. Instead, Emma feels comforted by the warmth of Killian’s skin against hers, by the soft smile that he sends in her direction the few times her eyes dare to meet his. 

“Will you dance with me, Emma?” Killian asks after the moments tick into minutes. Everything in her screams to say no — to stay in her own little secluded corner instead of becoming the object of people’s attention. But still, through all the alarms blaring in her mind, none of that stops her from nodding her head to him, smiling softly as he leads them out of their booth and over to the dancefloor. 

When he welcomes her into his arms, it’s almost as if the stress from her day — from the past sixty years’ worth of days — melts off of her. With the weight of his prosthetic on her back, his fingers curled gently around her own over his heart, she is able to focus on nothing but the warmth of his skin under her fingers — a feeling that she can swear is the single thing that was missing from her life. 

Silence fills the space between them, Emma’s eyes somehow never leaving his even though she can swear that she’s never been more embarrassed in her life, but she can tell his face is full of questions. She has never been more sure in her life that she has wanted to kiss someone, and something in his eyes makes her believe the same is true for him. 

She watches as his eyes flit down to her lips, as his tongue slowly moves along his bottom lip, but the moment he begins to lean further into her space, he stops himself and backs away instead. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Swan.” 

“You sure know how to change the mood,” she jokes with a smile, turning her gaze up to meet his, but when she sees the darkness that has overtaken his eyes, the deep shade of midnight blue they have become, she thinks she understands. 

“Either we need to talk about something, or the occupants of this bar are going to get a show that they were not expecting when they showed up.” His words come out low, growled through clenched teeth as his hand on her back pulls her lips closer to his. 

“I’m sure no one would complain about the show, nothing exciting happens around here, anyway.” 

“The issue with that plan is that I was raised to be far too much of a gentleman to simply give in to desires such as these with a woman I am as interested in as you before properly courting you.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him, the smirk still covering her face. “A gentleman, eh?” 

“I can assure you, Swan,” he says with a smirk of his own, then leans forward so his lips are practically brushing the shell of her ear. “I am always a gentleman.” When he leans back, though, the smirk on his face has disappeared, as has the glint she swore she saw in his piercing blue eyes just moments before. “Now, tell me something about yourself that you would tell a man interested in courting you.”

“Can I ask you a question then?” 

“Fact first, then you can ask whatever you want.” 

“What if I want you to ask me a question instead of just spewing facts for you?” 

“Is that your question?” 

She hits him gently on the shoulder with the hand placed there. “Of course not.” 

“If that’s the game you would like to play, then we can do it that way.” 

“Ask away, then.” 

“Where and when were you born?” 

She feels her heart squeeze in her chest. It’s an innocent enough question, of course, and there is no way for him to know just how much it hurts her to think of that time. Of any time. “Some time around the end of October, 1929.” She swallows, taking a small breath. “And I don’t know exactly where or when I was born. I was raised in an orphanage in Boston, Massachusetts, dropped off just a few days old.” 

She flicks her eyes up to his, which is a mistake, because she does not need her gaze to linger there long to notice the sadness that has flooded his eyes. “I’m sorry, that must have been terrible.” 

The few times she has needed to speak of her childhood, she has shrugged it off, offered some sort of snarky comment about how it wasn’t great or could have been better, but when she goes to do the same to Killian, the words simply don’t come. 

So she shrugs. A beat passes between them, and all she can do to fill the silence is ask her own question. 

“What happened to your hand?” 

He does not say anything at first, does not do anything — even his movements cease, stilling them for a few moments before he finally starts speaking.

“My brother and I were in the Navy. Or, well, I suppose he still is.” When she looks up at him, his eyes are set on the ceiling above them, his tongue quickly darting out of his mouth to wet his lips before he continues. “A few years ago, I was involved with an accident that happened on the base I was working on, when one of the engines malfunctioned. And, as an engineer, I was put in charge of the team that was to bring the ship to dock and fix the malfunction, but the issue wasn’t in the engine, but in one of the pieces that connect the engine to the propellers. But, as I was working with removing the propeller, the problem decided to not be a problem anymore, and the engine came back to life before I could remove my hand from where I was trying to fix it.” 

He pauses, taking a deep, slow breath that he releases quickly before finally turning his gaze back to hers, though she has been watching his face the whole time. “Thankfully the Navy paid for all of it, for the replacement and the physical therapy and everything, so the technology of it is actually phenomenal, though that doesn’t make me miss the one I lost any less.” 

“Of course,” she whispers, and the corner of his lips ticks up in the beginnings of a smile. A moment of silence passes between them before Emma decides to change the subject: “Your turn.” 

With his dark eyebrows set low on his forehead, she can tell that he is working to think of another question. “What made you stay here for sixty years?” 

“Fear,” she says quickly, then shakes her head. “At first. I never really had a family in Boston, never had anyone that would have been worth waiting for, but I was afraid of what I would find if I did decide to move on. And then Mary Margaret, the woman that was working at the desk when I got here, and her husband David, became my adopted parents, of sorts. The first family I ever had. And since I found them here, I realized that maybe this was exactly where I was supposed to be.” 

This answer is much happier than the last, shown both by the smile that now covers Killian’s face, and the one she finds growing across her own. 

“It might sound a little stupid, of course, but —”

“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all, Emma,” he says, his voice soft. “I think it makes perfect sense.” 

There is something else there, something in his eyes that goes far beyond the words he just said, and though Emma sees it, recognizes it, she chooses to ignore it. They’re in no hurry, they have all the time in the world, she realizes, laughing as she asks him why he always brings a book with him, and the tips of his ears turn red with embarrassment when he tells her that he always wished he had more time to read, and when he got here and realized that time is all he has now, he knew that was going to be how he passed the hours. They pass a few more questions back and forth, sometimes letting minutes of silence pass between them before one of them takes their turn. Before too long, most of the bar has left them behind, and with a few stragglers spread across the long marble bar, they are some of the last patrons for the night.

“Can I ask you about him?” he asks finally, his voice soft, almost as if he was afraid to ruin the feel of the room around them. When she turns his attention up to him, hoping to search his face to make sure he is asking what she thinks he is, his eyes are turned down to the floor between them.

“He wasn’t…” she starts, laughing to herself for a moment before she continues. “There’s not much to say. He wasn’t who he said he was, and he wasn’t… he wasn’t the right one, alright?” 

“You fell for the wrong one,” he says, and it’s not a question. When he finally raises his eyes to meet hers, she pushes down the idea that the blue of them is somehow filled with understanding. 

“Yeah,” she breathes. 

“Me too.” 

She doesn’t expect it, was not going to ask about his soulmate, and she has no idea how to respond. 

“She lied to me about so many things, didn’t tell me that she was already married, and then she — Christ, she… she shot me. She killed me. Everything went dark for just a second, and then I was — I was in the lobby here, with an absolutely perfect angel standing in front of me.”

“Oh, come on,” she jokes, hitting his shoulder lightly before leading her hand back to meet his. But instead of taking her hand again, he lets go of her to reach down and pull the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow. 

All of the air in the room leaves, including what was in her lungs. It’s the last thing she expected to see, had never even heard of soulmates who met each other in the afterlife, something she had led herself to believe was impossible. But there, right before her, is all the evidence she needs to know that not all hope had been lost for her yet. Right there, tattooed on the wrist Killian still has, is her name, her “Swan.”

“How long have you known?” she asks, but because she still has not regained the ability to breathe, she finds herself reaching to splay her hands against his chest, stopping herself from collapsing. It’s been years since she last swam, but she vaguely remembers the feeling of drowning, of water filling up her mouth, her throat. If she’s remembering it correctly, that is exactly what she feels right now.

“I had an idea when you first introduced yourself to me, but when I kept seeing you around, I was really hoping that it would be you.” Everything drops out from around her. She's not drowning anymore. She's floating, only anchored to the ground by the warmth of his hard chest under her hands.

"Why haven't you said something? Why did you even allow me to go through this whole night just talking to you?" 

He sighs, an embarrassed smile growing across his face. "I needed to know. I needed to be sure that you were interested in me beyond my name on your wrist, because that's how Mi — that was all she cared about." His words are careful, proof that he has been thinking about this, worrying about this — but it is the sincerity awash in his pale blue eyes that really gets to her. "I needed you to like me for me, needed you to like Killian Jones before you knew that maybe I was the one with your name on my wrist, the one who went through my entire life on Earth wondering who 'Swan' was, wondering when I would find her. The one I thought about when I realized what I had with Milah was fake."  

"Killian," she breathes, not even meaning to sway closer into his space, but she does anyway — until she realizes something  “That means…” she trails off, pulling the sleeve of her own sweater up to reveal the scribbles that she stopped really caring about when she was 22, that she wondered why the world was cruel enough to give her without ever giving her the chance to care about them, up until those very last minutes. “That means these scribbles are yours.” 

“Aye,” he whispers, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, his arms wrapping around her waist. “Those are, in fact, my scribbles,” he jokes, smiling at her. 

And then the feel of his arms around her is nothing compared to the perfect feel of their lips meeting, to the comfort that she finds when he slides his tongue against hers. 

Nothing compared to the warmth of his body against hers when the elevator finally deposits them outside their neighboring doors and he pulls her inside his and pushes her against the door, as he presses soft kisses along as much of her skin as he can reach, his lips following his hands as he starts to memorize every inch of her. Nothing compared to the way he worships her body and soul together the way that only a true soulmate can before she collapses beside him and curls up under the covers of his bed. 

However, when she wakes beside him the next morning, and for every subsequent morning after that, his hand heavy on her hip and his breath hot on her back, she can swear that she has never felt more complete in her life — or her death —  then she does here, spending the rest of eternity beside her soulmate. 

[roll20]

Taking the Convention Experience Online With Gen Con

Perhaps, in a parallel dimension, I am waking up in Indianapolis this week. I’m stressed from months of work and preparation, but I’m filled with excitement to see it all come together. It’s the week I spend literally every work day of the year thinking about and working towards. It’s Gen Con week.

However, on the plane of reality that you and I inhabit, I’m at my desk in my apartment in Seattle. Among all the other things that are making this year kind of the worst — almost all of which are, of course, more important than gaming — this is the first year since Gen Con’s founding in 1968 that we won’t be meeting in person for the show. 

But in spite of the circumstances: It’s still Gen Con week.

Due to the global pandemic that I’m sure you don’t need reminding of, we canceled Gen Con 2020 in Indianapolis. But we consider it our sacred duty to consecrate four days of the year for the celebration of our shared love of tabletop gaming and geek culture, so this Thursday through Sunday, July 30 – August 2, we’re hosting Gen Con Online!

One thing to be so grateful for is that we have the tools available to do this. Thanks to virtual tabletops like Roll20, livestreaming platforms like Twitch, and accessible video conferencing services like Zoom, we can connect and play with people all over the world. Nothing can replace the experience of attending a convention in person, but we’re doing the best we can to foster space for the excitement and connection that we all experience when we gather for Gen Con. 

Again and again we’re reminded of the passion and ingenuity of the tabletop gaming community. Event organizers and GMs have stepped up in a major way, and filled our event catalog (and our hearts) with thousands of events using a wide variety of technologies and formats. One of the platforms our organizers are using for gaming events is Roll20, and if you’re reading this, you probably already know how to use it!

Video link: How to use Roll20 for Online Gaming | Gen Con Online

At the time of this writing, more than 25,000 people have already registered for Gen Con Online. We have more than 6,500 games and events in our event catalog, including lots of seminars, workshops, the film festival, the dance, the costume contest, and of course gaming.  There are also hundreds of participating exhibitors, an online game store, a Discord server, a dance, pin trading, and four days of livestreaming content scheduled on Twitch. 

The thing about Gen Con that makes it feel like nowhere else in the world is that essential feeling of people gathering around a shared passion and indulging in unreserved enthusiasm. It’s a feeling of excitement, recognition, and acceptance. So, this week, we’re inviting you to be the beautiful nerds that you are, just a little louder and a little more than you would on any other weekend of the year. Set out your (virtual) dice and minis, put on your elf ears, turn on your webcam, and prepare for geekery! 

How to attend Gen Con Online

Register for your free badge on our website.

You must be at least 13 years old and have a Gen Con account.

Add event tickets to your schedule.

Read the Events Tome of Knowledge for a full rundown on how events will work, then check out the event catalog!

Most events cost a base price of $2 regardless of length, though some are free, and others have higher prices set by event organizers to cover their costs. We’re donating a portion of the base price of every ticket sold to I Need Diverse Games.

Gather your party and prepare for adventure

Call your friends, mark the dates on your calendar, and tell yourself you’re going to Gen Con! Even though we can’t be in the convention center, we can still be in the convention ~state of mind~

Gear up with official merch, dice, accessories, and other awesome stuff! 

Discover exhibitors, artists, authors, and more using the Looking Glass

We made a new visual discovery tool called the Looking Glass, where hundreds of publishers, exhibitors, artists, authors, and other partners have assembled links and content for you to engage with them — many including videos, products, livestreams, and organized events!

Hang out on Discord and Twitch

We’ve launched a Discord server as the central community hub for the Gen Con Online experience. Join the server to chat, connect, and find out about everything going on over the four days of the show.

Join us on Twitch for four days of livestreaming content across three Twitch channels, featuring live games, entertainment, seminars, game demos, and more! 

We are so excited to carry on the tradition of The Best Four Days in Gaming for Gen Con Online, and we hope you’ll join us! Game on!

This blog was written by Jordan Augustine, Content & Marketing Specialist at Gen Con.

Roll20 is hosting more than 2,010 events at Gen Con this weekend. Here are a few that we're particularly excited about:

Indoor Recess: Kids on Bikes, Thursday at 10am PT

Alice is Missing, a SILENT actual play, Thursday 6pm PT  

Burn Bryte: Burning Daylight actual play, Thursday at 7pm PT

Burn Bryte: Welcome to Olaxis discussion panel, Friday at 11am PT

Virtual GMing on Roll20, Saturday at 12pm PT

Outbreak: Undead actual play, Sunday at 2pm PT

[superfitfor50]

All the Feels from LFF2019

It’s going to take me a very long time to process this weekend. I had a wonderful time in general and I know that this wasn’t the case for everyone, and some people had a very different experience, but in my opinion, honestly, for a second try, this was pretty good.

I’m Hollstein trash.  I make no excuses for the Hollstein-centric nature of this post.  I love Wynonna Earp and every interaction I had with Mel, Kat and Dom was lovely, but I am Elise and Natasha all the way and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Firstly, it is important to note that this is not ClexaCon. I repeat, this is NOT ClexaCon. The vibe of LoveFanFest was very different.  For a start, it’s smaller. It’s not based ‘in town’ and the number of guests and panels is very limited.  Nevertheless, I do think that it has a place in the con calendar.

Panels – these come with a caveat that this con is based in Spain so yes, some of the panels will be in Spanish.  They did very well translating as they went along but if you want a panel to be smooth, then it’s not the greatest.  But I didn’t mind.  It was interesting to hear from actors that were not English speaking and have very different experiences in their home country within the industry.

The English panels (Wayhaught, Hollstein, Purgatory and Mel) were not moderated and it was awkward…but I could listen to Mel, Dom, Kat, Natasha and Elise practically all day so the fact that they had free reign didn’t bother me.  At all. One of the highlights was a fan who had devised a game where each actor had to remember the ‘next line’ in their dialogue when they were given a cue line by the other one.  Well done Wayhaught, shame on you Hollstein. Great fun though and you have to bear in mind some of these lines were recorded five years ago and, unlike us, the actors don’t have Carmilla on repeat continuously, every week!

I said earlier that it would take me a while to process everything from this weekend.  I think the reason for that was because I was basically surrounded by Hollstein all weekend.  I bought so many experiences with them that now, looking back, I’m wondering if it was too much.  Meals, M&Gs, photos, autographs.  There was a sad kind of desperation in it, as if I was trying to say, FOR GOD’S SAKE NOTICE ME!! I won’t be doing that again. I bought this con before I went to ClexaCon and at the time I thought it was going to be the only Con I was going to attend. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. But what it’s done is make things ten times worse for me, because now I am sitting here, and I won’t see them again until CarmillaCon (another Con I didn’t know was going to happen when I bought the ticket) and my heart is breaking because these two women are among some of my favourite people in the world.

If you look on Twitter you will see that there’s been a lot said already about what the Hollstein ‘girls’ got up to but here are a few of my personal favourites:

·       Elise trying her stand up out on us.  I won’t give anything away but she’s right, she is funny. Plus she came up with an idea in her M&G and I hope it makes it into her set.

·       Natasha admitting that she couldn’t see any of us in her M&G because she forgot her glasses so she got up and personally shook hands with everyone and got us to introduce ourselves to her.

·       Elise mishearing it when I said she could be the ‘fun aunt’ for Natasha’s baby (!) and her thinking that I said she could be ‘fodder’ and Natasha bringing it up with me later and saying it was funny.

·       Natasha loving my comment about my wife and I and our technology incompatibility and me saying that she could use it for her merch if she wanted.

·       Me blowing Natasha’s mind (her words) because I taught her how to convert Centigrade to Fahrenheit in her head.

·       My selfie with Elise.  I absolutely hate myself in all photos and I absolutely love us in this. When I showed it to someone she said we looked like a couple and this was NOT my intention, but it made me feel very warm and fuzzy inside.

·       I feel the same about one of my photos with her too. It’s just a lovely picture and she snuggled into me when we took it and my heart melted. OK so I may have developed a little crush…

·       Natasha – that’s all.

·       When Elise was talking about ‘signs’ and looked up and said, OK I got it, thanks’ and Natasha looked down and said the same thing.

·       The interaction between Mel and Natasha at lunch, specifically talking about their night out the night before, when Natasha said that as an Aries and a Sagittarius they would be a disaster together (socially), too fiery and rowdy, but only to a certain point obviously because they are, after all, still Canadians.

·       Natasha’s reaction to the gift that I bought her from The Neon Museum in Vegas because I knew she didn’t have time to go when she was there, so I picked her something up from the gift shop.  Her face. Bless her…then her saying that I always spoil her, which is definitely not the case because it’s the first thing I’ve given her but it’s cute that she said it anyway.

·       Telling Elise that there was a Neon Museum in Vegas and her reaction to that, (amazement and disbelief).

·       Natasha saying that ‘firstly, you are not horribly old’.

·       Elise sharing her pride experience with us, which was so touching and vulnerable and sad, but also full of love and friends.  OK OK, I definitely have a crush.

So, this is obviously some very personal experiences, that others will not share but I think it’s important to also share some experiences that maybe, had I not had so many positive experiences, would have tainted my trip.

·       Being told that I couldn’t go into the autograph hall because I didn’t have a ticket, even though I just wanted to be there to support a friend.

·       Being shouted at because I went to a window (it might have been a door) on the first floor to look out of it. It wasn’t cordoned off, there were no ‘no entry’ signs but, apparently, I overstepped some invisible mark.

·       Being asked to leave the area where breakfast was going to be but not politely and then being escorted to ‘make sure’ we left. (We all had breakfast tickets and, again, no cordons or no entry signs).

·       The intimidating ‘Staff’ who looked like machine gun toting Israeli army recruits and had an attitude to match.

I am not a con expert and everyone has a different experience.  This is my personal one. I’ve heard some horrifying stories, but this was not my experience.  I am sorry for anyone who felt cheated in some way because their expectations and experiences were different. No con is perfect.  Everyone needs to learn and what happens now, what Love Fan Fest learn from the feedback they are given, will be infinitely more important than the praise they receive.

I need to stop babbling but I can not go without a few words about the people I met on a personal level, to those who made sure I was OK, that I was eating, who spent time with me, who hugged me when I cried, who watched football with me, who opened their heart to me (my favourite kind of conversation), who made me laugh, and who made my weekend so special, and one I will remember for a long time.  Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.  It would not have been the same without you.

Until next time….

[folerdetdufoler]

just because i miss seeing you talk about it and miss the verse, how did isak and even handle isak going abroad in mondays? i know it's discussed a little in the last chapter but not that much

oh god, yes, not that much because i know fuck-all about studying for pharmacology and studying in London so i saved myself some research time and just skipped it. buuuuut i don’t think you’re too hung up on those details so let’s see what happened.

isak waited until the very last minute to book a ticket. his excuse was that he needed to earn more points on his credit card but the real reason was because he didn’t want to go. the program was great, fully endorsed by marte and passing sana’s high standards, but it was in a country that didn’t have even, which is the only con he needed on a pro-con list to call the whole thing off.

obviously he didn’t, because he’s isak, but that’s what his heart was whining about. out loud. on a cold november evening when they were both at their respective desks in the office.

“you’re going to be one time zone away. we’ll cam after your classes.” even reassured him for the third time, not even bothering to turn around. isak stared up at the post-its on the wall and thought about all of the nice things he was going to miss while he was gone. he stood and pulled one down.

“can’t do this on cam.” he carried the neon blue square over to even and pressed it into even’s back, like a bully planting a KICK ME sign. isak leaned over even’s shoulder and planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth. even smiled into it.

“you make an excellent point. make it again.” even spun his chair around so they could kiss properly.

when they broke apart for a breath, even had a plan. “i’m just going to have to visit you then. every day.”

isak laughed and returned to his chair. they stayed facing each other, scooting in close and crossing their ankles together. “can we do something regular though, for real?”

even clicked his tongue. “of course. this isn’t going to be difficult just for you. i’m going to miss you so much.” he reached across the space between them to hold isak’s hand, run his thumb over his knuckles. “i don’t know if i was actually kidding about the every day thing.”

they talked some more, for real, and decided on once a month. it wouldn’t disrupt even’s schedule too much, or his availability for work, and once isak was knee-deep in class and research, he’d probably be distracted enough to survive between visits. and, of course, there was camming. he’d have a private, if small, room, and they’d be able to see each other every day no matter what.

even noticed the post-it note on his back when he leaned against his chair and heard the paper crinkle. he reached behind his shoulders to peel it off. he clicked his tongue again when he read it. “you should pack some of my post-its and make your own wall while you’re over there. whenever something nice happens you can write it down as a reminder. it’ll be good to have like, a visual of positive things and see how it grows.” even untangled himself from their twist of chairs and legs so he could return KISSING YOU to the wall.

“maybe,” isak muttered. the post-its had always been even’s thing. he didn’t want to steal it for himself, even if it might make him feel better about the whole experience. but it was also telling how bummed out he was that even was offering up his post-its. he whined again. “can you kiss me some more so i can memorize it?”

even gave him a faux-gasp as he approached. “you mean you hadn’t already done that?” isak didn’t have time to think of a clever retort before even’s mouth was back on his, his hands sliding up isak’s neck. it was easy to forgot those kisses when they made isak lose his mind. luckily even was happy to remind him.

isak bought his ticket and packed a giant duffel bag. he flew to london in early january. he called even as soon as he landed and stayed on the phone until he got to his dorm, which was actually a cozy room in a five-floor townhouse. he shared a bathroom with three other guys, and mingled with the rest of his housemates in the common rooms on the ground floor. it was a tight fit but there was privacy, and isak could cam with headphones unbothered. even made him set up his tiny desk next to the window for the best light, even though most of their sessions happened long after the sun had set.

during the first few days, while isak was just getting settled and before classes started, he was bored. he ran errands with his housemates when necessary but didn’t take much effort to leave the house. as he slowly unpacked he found the post-its that even had snuck into his bag before he’d left. isak wrote THANK YOU LOVE YOU on one and slapped it onto his own forehead, taking a selfie and sending that to even. isak appreciated the gesture, the reminder, but still wasn’t sure he wanted to start a wall of his own. he kept the post-its on his desk and used them for other reminders, like when he had to go buy milk or his assigned day to clean the bathroom or the country codes when he had to call outside the UK.

even was on a business trip during isak’s first weekend in london, and rather than join his housemates for an exploratory pub crawl around the city he stayed in and worked on his thesis. it was comforting work, because it reminded him of sitting at his desk at home, or at the counter at helene’s, where even was usually within arm’s reach. it was comforting, but also a bit torturous, letting himself pine for something that was months away.

isak wrote MISSING YOU on the top of the post-it stack. then he googled how many days until his return flight. then he had an idea.

he only had one window, so he had three viable walls to choose from. two had doors though, one for a closet, one to the hallway. this only left the wall that his bed was lined up against, but he figured that was fine. it would be within reach, the first thing he saw when he woke up and the last thing he’d see before bed. he started writing.

when even went online later that night, he gave isak a quick tour of his hotel room. isak gave even one in return, spinning his laptop around to show off how he spent the evening decorating.

“you made a wall! holy shit. that’s a lot of nice things.”

“um, not exactly.” isak unplugged his laptop and carried it closer, slowly running the camera over the cloud of notes hovering above his bed. even read them out loud.

“missing you. missing you. missing you. missing…. baby, are they all the same?”

when isak turned the laptop back around and settled it on his bed, sitting in front of it, he saw even pouting. “yup. that’s my wall.”

“i’m glad you’re using the post-its but that’s…kind of a bummer. and like, major serial killer vibes.” the pout turned into a good-natured cringe. “i’m afraid what your roommates will think if they see it.”

“i guess….” isak started laughing, finally realizing what the wall looked like to someone not head-over-heels in love with even. but it wasn’t enough to undo the hour of work he’d put into it, or deny the truth of it all. “no one except you is getting that close to my bed though, so maybe they won’t see it.”

“baby, i’m all the way in norway and it still looks pretty…intense.” even was sucking in air through his teeth as if he’d just witnessed a major red flag on a first date. except he was already engaged to this particular creep and couldn’t back out now.

“i’m using it like a calendar. there’s one note for every day i’m here. and every day i can throw one away.” to demonstrate isak reached over and plucked the nearest one to him. he brought it in front of the camera and crumpled it up, tossing it in the vague direction of his tiny bin. “that’s one less day i’m missing you, one day closer to kissing you.”

even sighed, leaning his head on his hand. “fuck. i’m really going to marry the most romantic creep in the world, aren’t i?”

“i’m like the world’s hottest serial killer.” they couldn’t kiss on cam, but they could still tease the hell out of each other.

“till death do us part.”

even laughed long and hard when he made his first visit and got to see the wall in person. it had fewer notes but was still an impressive burst of color taking up most of the space. he also got a small thrill when he was able to pick off a note and crumple it up himself during his trips. it was so much more satisfying than watching isak do it every night on camera, much like everything else they did on camera.

as small as the bed was, they made good use of it. one time even made the mistake of resting against the wall after a particularly strenuous session that had left them sweating, and when he peeled away from it several of the notes came with him, stuck to his back and damp with bliss. the MISSING YOU blurred and bled into blobs of nothing, which happened whenever even was in the same room as isak, so it was appropriate.

with each monthly visit and the surprise one in between, even and isak watched the post-its dwindle until only a few remained, until his wall looked less like a serial killer’s bedroom and more like a little love letter to a long-distance relationship. it was proof of what they had survived, together, apart. isak was proud when he was able to pull down the last note and crumple it up, but he stopped himself before he actually tossed the paper. he realized he wanted to keep it, a trophy from the semester, a token from the whole experience. he could put it on their wall at home, or he could keep it for himself, just tucked away in a drawer. it wasn’t necessarily a nice thing, missing even, but it was a reminder of something even better. to miss even was to love him. it was just a kiss with a little bit of distance.

isak missed even while he was in London and then isak kissed even when they reunited at the airport. there was only love in the space between.

[spnfanficpond]

March 2019 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting today with @bamby0304! Thank you so much, Amber, for joining us!!

We talked about Planners (writers who outline and plan out their stories) vs. Pantsers (writers who fly by the seat of their pants), and had some great questions and answers from everyone who joined! A rundown of the chat, as well as the usual general Pond news, is below the cut.

Michelle: I love attending writing panels at comic cons, and at one, the presenter said there are two kinds of writers, and that each type has their strong points. Planners have tighter storylines, but pansters tend to have stronger characters because they start with the characters and the story writes itself. (This is a broad generalization, so there are always exceptions to this rule.) As a pantser, it made me feel better about my writing, because I felt like CRAP because I can't outline for shit. Before hearing this, I thought, “My writing is crap and it’s always gonna be crap because I don’t outline and plan,” even though readers told me they liked my writing. Hearing that how I write is a valid process and there are successful writers like me really helped me to embrace it and feel better. We can always learn from each other, though, which is why we’re here!

Amber: I do find that sometimes diving in head first, with no thought, can result in a more interesting story. While most of my fics are planned, I do sometimes just get an idea and run with it. Having an outline can be a little restricting at times...

Q: Amber, how do you keep track of all your work in progress?

Amber: I have a doc that lists all my past, present and future fics which is very detailed. Everything is color-coded and alphabetized!

Q: For the pantsers, how do you end a story? I started writing my story as a series of one-shots that accidentally connected, and now I have a 15-chapter story that needs an ending....

Michelle: When I write, I always have an end goal in mind, like a road trip. I know where I want to go, but not necessarily which roads I’ll take to get there. Only once did I not do that, and it was just crack, with me just trying to stuff a lot of ridiculous crack into it, and it doesn’t have much of an ending, really. My advice for where you are, though, would be to sit down, close your eyes, and put yourself in every character's shoes. Think about how they feel about what's been happening, and disregard all of the other characters. Think about what they want and what they might do next. When you find the characters with the most interesting motivations and potential actions, there's the rest of your story.

Q: Amber, are you a planner in other aspects of your life, too?

Amber: I'm a planner with everything. My dad has a saying that's been drilled into me since birth: Better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it. He also says: Better safe than sorry. So I guess I've just always felt the need to be organised and prepared. I'm at least half an hour early to everything. My books and DVDs are in alphabetical order, my wardrobe is colour coordinated... I'm all about organisation

Q: Michelle, do you find that your end goal gets lost in the middle? Like, if you don’t plan the small stuff, do you take a left turn instead of right and end up losing your original plan?

Michelle: Oddly enough, I don’t. There have been times when the story made a left turn, and after a short while, I got blocked. Every time I get blocked, it's a sign I made a wrong turn. If I go back to the turn and start fresh, it always works out. In my recent NaNoWriMo fic, I was on day 3, and suddenly, I lost all urge to write it. Nothing was coming to me. It was all crap. I went back, threw out almost an entire day's worth of writing, and then forged ahead. It was nerve-wracking, because it put me behind on my daily word count for the month, but it worked.

Q: Amber, did you learn how to outline from someone, or are you self-taught?

Amber: At first I was a full time pantser. I was a shipper who just wanted Elena and Damon together, and I didn't care how they got there. Now, though, I think about pretty much every step I take... well, almost every step I take.

Q: Are your outlines in complete sentences or just points you want to make in each chapter?

Amber: Depends on the story. With Wolves just had dot points for chapters, but The Hart has a full doc of details. I would jot a few words down for With Wolves, because I also try to stick to a word count for each chapter so sometimes the idea would spread into multiple chapters

Q: Is sticking to a word count per chapter a thing that you do for yourself for pacing, or for your readers so they don't have long chapters?

Amber: Mostly for pacing. Most of my reader insert fics are 1.5k-2.5k words long. Except Her Saviours... that's 3.5-5k long. I like things to be uniform.

Q: I can't get past 1k would outlining help with that?

Amber: Outlining could help, sure. But you need ideas to outline, first.

Q: Do you have a writing schedule that you stick to, where it's your priority for that time to write, or do you just write when you can?

Amber: I started uni this week, so now it's more of a do-it-when-you-can kinda thing... but I like to write in the evenings. I make a cup of tea and sit myself down, and make myself write. Often I don't wanna... but I have a posting schedule to keep up with, so I don't have much of a choice.... I also put on SPN when writing that fandom. I specifically stick to the season that might go along with the plot of that fic. I can't write in silence.

Michelle: I can't write if there's anything AT ALL happening anywhere in the world that I might find remotely interesting. Silence, no music, no TV, nothing good on my dash, it's terrible. Literally, anything is more interesting than writing for me, until I get going.

Q: Do your stories ever break from your outline?

Amber: All the time! For instance, in Her Saviours (sorry about name dropping my fics, but I just like using examples) Sam is misbehaving big time. He keeps on doing things I don't want him to do, which moves the plot along faster that I'd like.

Q: How do you even start an outlining process?

Amber: it might be a slight OCD thing... because I'm organised with everything... but a lot of my planning is motivated by the fact that if I don't plan I'll lose interest in my stories and give up. 

Followup Q: I want to try, but you made it sound a bit overwhelming.

Amber: It's really not overwhelming. You get the idea for a story and then you want to write... so jot that idea down. Then jot down other ideas that go with it. Set up a timeline. Dean wants pie Dean goes to get pie Dean meets girl at bakery They laugh, have fun He buys her pie Turns out it's magical pie that people get addicted to Dean has to decide whether he ganks witch (pie girl) or not. Just write simple stuff like that.

Q: Do Pantsers lose motivation easily?

Michelle: Sometimes. If I don’t know what I want to write next, it’s really easy to get distracted and not write. I need a writing schedule that I stick to. I used to have one, but I've filled it up with being tired from having a life.

@manawhaat: Yes and no. if I lose the motivation, it's because the story isn't there or i'm not having the right thoughts to help that story along. Like if I generally know what the fuck is going on in a story, I'm probably not writing it because I already know it. It's the ones that are a mystery or Mr. Toads Wild Ride that I end up writing bc I'm actively motivated to figure it out.

Q: Do you have a posting schedule? And if you do lose motivation, does that affect said schedule?

Michelle: I do not have a schedule. I have an order in my head of what I want to write next, but unless it's for a challenge, no due date to write it by.

Mana: I have never had a posting schedule because I am not the schedule type person and will 100% abort from the plan and not stick to it at all. Even signing up for challenges, I'm wary of time frames because I'm more likely to drop out if I can't figure my shit out within that time. I'd rather drop out of a challenge than pump out something that isn't really what I want to write or doesn't tell the story I need to tell.

Amber: I pace myself with posting. I give fics certain days (like today is Spanner in the Works day) and I post them weekly on said day. I choose the days by title most of the time... I like alliteration, so Spanner in the Works is posted on Sunday S + S.

Q: Are you really a pantser, or a planner in denial? Do you just not realize somethings you do are baby steps into becoming a full time planner?

Michelle: When it comes to writing, I've tried to plan, and I just can't. If I plan too thoroughly, then I feel like I've already written the story, and I lose motivation to write it out. But I'm more of a planner in life. I have a calendar and a routine that I follow, simply because there are days when I'm not cognitively aware enough to make actual decisions. If everything is muscle memory, I can run on auto pilot and not crash. To use the road trip analogy, when I go on an actual road trip, I figure out the route and all the bathroom breaks ahead of time. Completely different than when I’m writing.

Tips gleaned from writers at writing panels at comic cons:

As you're writing, keep an "outline" of your chapters with only a sentence or two describing each chapter. This helps you if you need to go back and reference something later, and helps you see the overall story arc.

Naming characters - Try to avoid naming characters with the same first initial. A reader's eyes will sometimes only hit the first letter of a name, so keeping track of character names helps. Write the alphabet on a piece of paper, and write down every name as you go along.

If you're stuck, or feel like your story is meandering, try to picture in your mind what the movie trailer for your story would look like. What makes this movie more interesting than similar movies? What is driving your story?

If you've got a good flow going, and then it suddenly dries up, go back to when you last felt confident, and move on from there. Something you did since then wasn't right, and you'll see it when you start again.

Thanks to everyone who was there! It was a great chat!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work!  If you have sent in a nomination, but have not received a private message confirming we received it, we didn’t get it. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

SPNFanFicPond Season 14 Weekly Episode Writing Challenge - New prompts go up after every new episode, and there’s no deadline! Check out the prompts and rules at the link!

Say hi to February’s New Members!

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the chat room and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details!  The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

In April, we’re going to chat with one of our Big Fish, @deanscarlett about writing in English when it’s not your first language! Hope to see you there!