#drew this that same exact evening. changed my life

[maris-27]

free at last. June '22

also called "big brother's remorse"

[mimiiis]

Must Be Love Pt.1 — Regency Au! Price x Fem! Reader

summary: A general looking to marry for duty and a girl looking for a love match, what could go wrong?

warnings: n/a

work count: 5.9k

a/n: this was low-key supposed to be a small series of blurbs but I couldn't help myself, full on fic/series !! hope you guys enjoy </3

I’ve been rewatching Bridgerton and got to thinking…Regency!Price.

General John Price, who has come back to London during the marriage season to find himself a wife after deciding it was about time for him to do so. It just so happens to be that you are a new debutante, foisted out onto the marriage market and ready to be wed. 😚🤭

☆☆☆

The General had just recently returned to London, ready to marry and not hesitant to announce his intentions on what brought him back into the city. It was not long until everyone got the word that he was looking for a bride. Respectable men were not entirely few and far in the ton, but to find a truly accomplished man who came from a respected family was almost rare. Where most men were seen coming in and out of brothels almost daily , John Price was hardly seen indulging in such…pleasures. But in fairness, he was away from the watchful eyes of society for many periods of time, and no one knew much about him. With his return and new step into the marriage market, it is the first ball of the season that changed everything in his life. 

The first ball was always so exciting, uncertainty of what the night may bring lurked at every corner of the room. Ladies practically flocked to him, their mamas right behind them as he struggled to fill out each dance card he was presented with. The general was more than polite, making his intentions clear and being his usually charming self. The ladies giggled and flirted, trying to impress him with their many accomplishments and the status of their families. He would simply nod and listen to them ramble with each passing dance. Though as the night drew on longer, the more he began to worry. 

He hadn’t truly realized how hard it would be to properly court a woman in his position. He knew that as general he would not be with his wife for long, that he would be away longer than he would ever be with her. He saw no point in growing an attachment, inevitable heartbreak and hate would follow if he did. Every young lady he talked to seemed too eager, practically begging to be loved and adored. He knew he would have to find a wife willing to accept the conditions that awaited, someone he can establish a decent, or even good, relationship with. It did not hurt him to turn down several young ladies, he knew it was for the better. Yet somewhere, deep inside of his heart, he ached for the same kind of fondness they did. 

☆☆☆

The ballroom erupted in a wave of applause and laughter as the dance finished, your chest heaving after performing the lively routine. The young lord you had entertained left with a bow, kissing your hand before leaving to go grab himself a cup of punch. You smiled at him, bidding him a good night before walking to your mama. Droplets of sweat formed at the corners of your hair, slowly falling down your skin as you tried to hide away behind your mother. She stood at the corner of the room, hidden away by a crowd of people who rushed by. 

“What did you think of him? Lord Langley?” She asks you, handing you her fan as you plant your back against the wall. You quickly take it, opening it and blowing air in your direction as you finally took what felt like your first breath in hours. Your cheeks burned as your feet ached from dancing for so long. You could feel the boning of the corset digging into your skin as you slouched over slightly. 

“He is kind. Rather handsy. Not an exact fit.” You breathe out, still winded as your mother placed a handkerchief against your forehead. “None of them will be, my dearest, if you keep holding them up to such an impossible standard.” She states, grabbing you by your shoulders as straightening your posture. You groan, letting her smooth out your crinkled skirts out and continue to wipe off the sweat from your brow. 

“I know what I want and I will not hesitate to find it.” You argue back, pushing her hands away from you. You step back a few paces, giving yourself more room to breathe. You hadn’t considered how stuffy a ballroom might feel with more than half of the ton packed into a tight space. It almost made your head spin, a slight ache creeping up at the back of your head. Dread began to fill you at the impending headache, but you shook your head in an attempt to ignore it. 

“You will spend a lifetime searching if you do not let it come naturally.” She tells you, shaking her head. You eye her, considering her words before you catch sight of a footman walking by. Your mother watches you reach for a glass of champagne from his tray, slapping your hands away the second you move them. You gasp, glaring at her as she dismisses the man away. 

“That is not fair-“

“You can drink to your heart's content when you are married.” She argues, locking her arm in yours as she begins to pull you back into the eyes of society. So much for a few minutes to hide away. “You really must consider and think about a second plan. What will happen if you cannot find the love match you so desperately desire, hm? What then?”

You groan once more, embarrassment heating heating your cheeks. Her speech and the way she still talked to you as if you were a child sent a wave of shame over you. You wanted to crawl back into the corner of the room, to get away from her at any cost as she continued to scold you for having “such impossible standards.” But you cannot, not after you spent so long convincing her to even allow you to have a say in who you married. She gives you an inch, might as well take a mile. 

“There is no second plan. I will get what I want, no matter how long it takes me.” You stubbornly reply, voice in a hushed whisper as you politely smile at other young ladies passing by. “What is so hard about finding a love match anyways? Is it simply not the process of meeting someone and just knowing? That is how you described what happened to you with father, I will not settle for anything less.” 

“It is…much more than just that.” She repeats the same words she always has, never elaborating further. For the woman meant to help you through the marriage season, she was certainly not helpful. You glance at her for a second, the usual disappointment filling you. You start to search the dance floor for a man to sweep you back up into the crowd. Anything to get away from her right now. You watch as all the lords and men you had previously danced with talk and laugh amongst themselves or other young ladies, your own friends being taken up with suitors or being pulled to one by their mamas. It was a never ending sea of controlled chaos, dresses swishing and feet stomping as the sea of dancing color passed you.

“Where is Johnny?” Your mother suddenly asks. The arm she had locked with your slips away and rises to your shoulder, helping her balance as she begins to stand on her tiptoes, looking over the crowd around you two. “Shall he really miss your first ball?” Her brows furrow, scanning every corner of the room before falling back onto her heels. You shake your shoulder, brushing her hand off of you as the topic of your brother sours your mood. “I do not think Jonny cares about the affairs of young ladies.”

“Do not be so negative, he is your brother-“

“And he still does not care.” You say with a bite in your tone, making your mother furrow her brows, but you only continue you scan the room for a way out of her grasp.

It took a few seconds, but you finally caught sight of a man one of your friends said was serious about his courtship this year. “Besides, he need not bother himself with my business unless a suitor is asking for my hand, yes?” You flash her a faux smile as you slowly begin to pull away from her side. “I am going to get a glass of punch, I will be back.” You told her before hurriedly walking and escaping between the cracks of the surrounding crowd to get away from her. You walked as fast as you could without raising any alarm to others, her shouts and protests falling on deaf ears as you managed a good distance between the two of you. You were able to get across the dance floor and near the table of desserts, not stopping until you found a rather hidden corner to further disappear into. 

You sigh and giggle to yourself as you look back, making sure she was not following and in fact far from you. A smile creeps up onto your lips as you watch her try to carefully push through the crowd. She excuses herself, getting stopped by other Ladies and Mamas on her way towards you. Frustrating builds on her face, eyes glancing every second back to you as she is forced to make small talk. A giggle leaves your lips as you watch the aftermath of your small victory. You straighten your shoulders and hold your head high as you walk backwards, keeping an eye and planning on disappearing from her view when she looks away once more. But the moment is short lived as you suddenly bump into someone. 

Your back crashes into an elbow, the bone hitting between your shoulder blades and causing you to groan at the sudden pain, back going stiff and straight as a slight ache begins to spread throughout. You yelp, whipping your body around and groaning at the discomfort the swift movement caused. You begin to stutter out apologies, explaining how you didn’t know where you were, how you weren’t looking and all sorts of nonsense without even looking at who you were speaking to. The words jumbled together into a string of incoherent mumbles, but your mouth stops when you finally look up. Your body freezes, mouth falling into a small ‘o’ as you look at the man before you. It's strange, you would assume to find a frown and displeased face looking at you. But to your surprise, the man seems to give you the kindest smile, and breathes out the softest of laughs. 

Your eyes meet his, and you can't recall ever having seen someone look at you so… fondly? He was tall, a strong and fit body, shoulders stiff and broad as the deep red of his suit makes him look all the more alluring. His hair was brushed back though it still appeared as a soft mess when paired with the beard he sported. You had never put much thought into what you would think a real man would be like, but good god, if he was not it. You continue to study him, practically entranced by the way he looks, until you see his lips begin to part in question and quickly snap out your thoughts, shaking your head and closing your still slightly agape mouth. “Apologies, Sir, I truly did not see you.” You bow your head slightly and part your eyes from his. 

He smiles and replies, “It is quite alright, Miss.” His voice was deep and gruff, the sound made your knees want to buckle. “Are you hurt? I myself must apologize for not having seen you either,” he looks at you with worry, remembering how harshly you bumped into him. “Ah!” You exclaim, suddenly feeling a slight discomfort between your shoulders but quickly dismissing it. “I’m simply a bit shaken, that’s all. Though I must ask if I did not hurt you either, my lord..?” Your voice drifts off in question, waiting for the man to introduce himself. 

The sound of the title has him letting out a small huff of a laugh,“I am not a lord, Miss, but a general. General John Price, Miss. Mr.Price would do just fine if you do not mind,” He replies with a small shake of his head and a hint of amusement in his voice. Embarrassment immediately fills you as his words process in your head. Your cheeks heat and eyes widen and the urge to crawl into the deepest hole you can find consumes you as more apologies spill from your lips. “I-I’m sorry I didn't mean to-! It is just that so many of the men present here are lords and the title has become a natural response to say to any man I speak to that I-agh!” You stutter and ramble on again, but soon stop yourself from further embarrassment by placing a hand on your awfully loud mouth. “I must stop.” Your eyes look away from what you expect to be a judgemental or annoyed gaze this time, but when you glance back up, it is still neither of those.

“I must admit I had grown rather tired of not being able to get away from you young ladies this evening, but out of all I have spoken to today, you seem to be the most amusing.” He jokes, that laugh of his loud and brighter than before. The sound makes you relax and a sense of comfort washes over you. The rest of the world seems to drown in the sound and sight of him. A man with a large presence and contagious energy, how had you not seen him?  You watch the way his chest rises and falls in his chuckles and how he slightly throws his head back with each “hah”. Before you know it, your hand is falling from your mouth.

“Oh, is that so? I must say the same for the men, you all are at every corner and yet I haven’t found a single one worthy of a good conversation.” You joke back, a playful smirk making its way onto your lips. His smile widens at your comment and the same spark of mischief in your eye ignites in his.

“Truly? Have they all been so boring?”

“Terribly so, I could not even last a minute speaking to them.”

“I must apologize for my fellow men then, for they do not seem up to the challenge of courtship.” 

You giggle at his words, he chuckles in return. “Of that you are right, Sir. In fact, I do not think I’ve ever wished for interesting company to arrive so much as now.” You jest. 

“It seems we are both in luck then. For here I am with you. And you, with me.” The humorous tone of his voice drifts into one of sincerity, flirtatiousness. The hair at the back of your neck rises and your back straightens at the shift in mood. You gulp, feeling his eyes on you, looking at you– truly looking at you now. “Here we are.” 

Your eyes meet once more, only neither of you look away or speak this time. You’ve had to look into the eyes of many men this evening, and you’ve found the saying of the eyes being windows to a person's soul to be true. You could tell when a man only wanted a marriage for money or influence, how they felt about the young lady they were dancing with, who they truly wanted and set their sights on even with a glance. And the way he looked at you, oh it scared you. You can’t recall someone ever looking at you like this. It made your breath catch, heart race, and wonder if the truth in his eyes was not a lie. There was a glint of light in the blue of his eyes, and you realize the look he’s giving you. Almost as if you amuse him, as if he likes you. And you find yourself feeling the same.

It’s as if the realization dawned on both of you at the same time, the mutual attraction, for a comfortable silence soon followed. You both continue to stare, smiling as the two of you seem to breathe in time together. Waiting…Waiting to ask or be asked the same question. Will you dance with me? 

You wanted this to happen, it is what you were looking for. To feel that click, the instant gravitation to one person in a sea of people, and it was here. Standing right in front of you– only you were not prepared for how it would feel. You wanted to revel in it, shout at the top of your lungs ‘I told you I could!’ to your mother and friends who said you that what you wanted was impossible. Here, in front of you, the moment you’ve waited for. All that was left was for either of you to seal it, to grab each other's hand and spend the night talking, to form a proper and real courtship. The possibility made your heart flutter, though only off of a feeling and small conversation, you think you found what you were looking for. But you could only have peace for so long. A hand suddenly wraps itself around your arm and pulls your attention away from the man in front of you. Your damned mother. “General Price, how nice it is to see you!” The woman exclaims in surprise, her arm yanking your body behind her and away from him. ‘You were being improper’ she would later say. The General’s eyes widen at the sudden interruption, but he is quick to compose himself with a smile and nod of his head. “My lady,” he greets her.

“I see you have met my daughter, I do hope she has not been bothersome, she has a rather… colorful personality!” Your mother snides, a false laugh falling from her lips as you roll your eyes. 

“Of course not, she and I were having a rather enjoyable conversation.” He replies, eyes drifting to yours. You let out a weary smile, facial expression screaming “I am sorry!” as best as you could. His gaze softens at you in understanding before in looking back to your mother and further exchanging formalities with her. How are you, where have you been, and other such things they discuss before it is cut to a quick end by the woman. 

“It has been a pleasure to see you again, good Sir, but I am afraid it is time for my daughter and I to retire. I do hope we will see you again.” She smiles, looking your way to give you a stern look, ‘let’s go’ she seems to say. You nod lightly, watching as they exchange goodbyes before your mother leaves to fetch the carriage.

You watch her go and before long the two of you are alone again, standing in a rather awkward air after your mother had interrupted your previous conversation. Neither you say anything, trying to find the words as your feet shuffle in tune with that of the music. You play with your fingers, pulling and twisting at them, unsure of what to say before seeing the man open his mouth. 

“For how short it was, I did enjoy our talk.” He says sincerely. 

You grin, cheeks heating at the simple words. “I do hope you choose to call.” You nod your head politely, watching him do the same before walking away. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, eyes widening in shock the second your back is turned to him. Your first day, your first night and ball as a debutant, and you think you may have found a man you would like to marry. Foolish wishing, others would tell you if they knew you thought this. So you never shared it. You would not whisper it to a soul, but keep it inside a pocket of your heart only to be spoken until the wish comes true. 

It is not long until you are on your way back home, sitting across from your mother in your carriage. The street lights illuminate the carriage as you pass through town, the fabric of your dress shining as you play the flimsy material along your thighs. You yawn, sleeping creeping and taking over you from the change of chaos to quiet tranquility. You’re slouching forward, the ache in your back growing and not letting you sit straight. 

 Your mother scolded you, but laughed, when you told her why it hurt to do so. You rolled your eyes before looking out the window and thinking of Mr. Price. You wanted to ask your mother how they knew each other, why she pulled you away so quickly, what she thought of him. But you spoke not, shaking the thoughts out of your head and happy enough with the idea that you will see him again tomorrow. A love match to be made.

☆☆

General John Price tiredly makes his way to the far end of White’s furnished bar. The club had a signature smell of tobacco and thick wood polish, smoke and cups of brandy filled his vision in a stark contrast to the flowery and bright ballroom he had just made his way from. To be fair, he did not want to come here so late in the night, but an old friend invited him and the man was not one to break a promise. He approached a group of men at a far back table, all talking over a game of cards with several cups half full and empty scattered across the table. John made his way towards the chair on the farthest end, giving the man who sat in it a good strong pat. 

“Johnny boy!” He greets. The man in the chair looks back, jumping in surprise before a wide smile appears as he realizes who is in front of him. 

“Price! I dinnae think you’d come, old man.” The man, Johnny, exclaims before standing to properly shake and give the General a hug. They share a laugh and exchange pleasantries before Johnny introduces him to the other Lords who he was previously talking to. Price recognized a few from the ball, he had wondered where they had wandered off so early. 

“I assume yer awfully tired from havin’ many young girls stepping on yer toes tonight, aye?” Johnny jokes, leading Price away from the group and to the bar. He orders them a whiskey each, the glasses clinking as they share a toast to the older man’s coming back to town. Price shakes his head lightly, “I will admit that I underestimated just how…draining this prospect would be.” John sighs, downing the glass in front of him with one gulp. He plays with the rim of his glass and watches the remaining drops swirl in the dim light of the room, he thinks of how many young ladies there were and it was only the first night. Each was as pretty and delicate as a flower, bright smiles and rosy cheeks but altogether, desperate and grasping onto any man who looked their way. Though he could not blame them, it was what they were born and raised to do, it was all they knew to do.

“Exactly why I haven’t taken on the task myself. Yer stronger than I’ll ever be Cap’in,” Johnny chuckles, taking a sip from his own glass. “Did you meet a lass you might set your sights on?”  The younger man grins, nudging the elder as he notices his eyes drifting down in thought at the question. 

“I found a Miss I am to call on tomorrow. She seems agreeable, timid but with a sense of humour and not as” he pauses to find the right word, “eager as the other ladies. Though her mother stepped in before I could invite her for a dance. Does not matter, we have a whole season to talk and dance and do what people do in courtship. If all goes well, I may have a wife soon.” Price says, going back to fidgeting with his glass. As he looks at it though, he can't help but think about the girl. From the way they met, to her mannerisms, she truly did intrigue him. Only now that he looked back on their interactions does he feel as if he forgot something. He moves the glass back and forth, watching the light seep through and glimmer– trying to remember something important he has forgotten but cannot seem to place. 

“A Mrs.Price, at last!” Johnny exclaims, Price rolls his eyes. “And do tell, my dear friend, what is her name?” 

John freezes at the words. His eyes widened and head rising in a swift motion. He stares at Johnny, shock and realization written all over. That’s what he forgot. Johnny catches on immediately, eyes widening with his friends. 

“Dinnae tell me…” 

“I did not catch it.” 

The men look at each other a second longer before Johnny begins to shake his head. “Now how in the hell do ye forget to ask a lass her name, John? You’re the general, for christ sakes, aren’t ye supposed to have a strategic battle plan for everything ye do?” He lets out a dramatic sigh, brows furrowing and going to rub his temples in disappointment. Price slouches and rubs his eyes with his palms, trying to wipe away the fog of his mind. 

“I figured I did not need to ask as I knew her mother, she was an old family friend. It has just occurred to me I never knew who she married. The girl and I met in a rather odd situation as well, I didn't even have time to ask her.” 

Johnny slowly chuckles in disbelief at his words, “That poor girl is going to be truly devastated when you don’t show up tomorrow morning.”

“Mactavish,” John says his name sternly, eyeing the younger man in warning. 

Johnny holds his hands up in surrender, before grabbing his unfinished glass of whiskey and downing the remaining contents. The men sit together in silence, waiting and thinking for a kind of solution to help with the unfortunate circumstance. 

“I tell ye what,” Johnny interrupts after a few moments, “My sister, she’s in her first year as a debutante and friends with almost half of the lassies in Mayfair. Come over in the morning, and I believe we can ask for her help identifying your bonnie, aye?” 

The proposal interested John enough to consider it, to think of how it would play out. “She would not mind?” 

“Nay, all I’ve got to do is tell her yer a friend, that’ll put you off as a potential suitor and help yer little predicament.” Johnny grins, with teeth, for having thought of the idea. In all fairness, it was not the best or brightest plan, but who is John Price, a General of the British Armies to say no to a friend simply trying to help him. 

☆☆☆

You awake at the crack of dawn, a giddy and anxious feeling bubbling in the pit of your belly from the second you opened your eyes. It was with you the whole morning– as your maid helped you dress, as you ate breakfast, as you talked to your mother and brother of what bachelors you predict may come to call. 

“Lord Harding was quite taken with you last night, my dear. As well as Lord Langley and even Mr. Anderson, their mothers and I spoke of what a handsome match you would be with either of them. They are agreeable men, are they not Johnny?” Your mother says, sitting across from you on a plush settee and drinking a cup of tea. Johnny, who was sitting in the chair nearest to the window and farthest from you replies with a nod. “Aye, though Anderson’s got a taste for losing a pretty sum every time he’s at the club.” He comments, looking out the window as if waiting for something. Your mother lets out a small ‘ah’ and nods her head at the information. You roll your eyes and manage to bite your tongue. It was too exciting of a day to waste your energy bickering with him. 

“I talked to another gentleman as well last night.” You share instead. Johnny turns his head toward you, slightly tilted in questions.  

“Aye, did ye?” Johnny questions you, doubt in his voice. He looks back out the window when the noise of a carriage passes by– not even bothering to hear your answer. “Yes, I did. He was kind, kinder than the other men I talked to all night.” You reply, brows furrowing and staring daggers at him. “Oh please, darling, I hardly doubt he’d come today. You did not share a dance, or even speak for that long.” Your mother says, making you slightly frown and look to her. 

“Perhaps after your next meeting he shall come to see you. And does he not seem a bit older to you? Would you not prefer a younger man, closer to your age? Remember, we have the whole of the season to find you a match, my love. Try not to think of him and focus on the men who do come today, yes?” You sigh, fighting your frown from deepening at her words. You try to slouch in your corset (which was pulled tighter today) to help the still aching injury on your back. Your mother catches you and lets out a ‘tsk’, a reminder that she is watching your every move. You almost start to argue with her, already upset and bothered. Your mouth opens and brows furrow but are interrupted before you can get any words out. 

‘Excuse me,” Johnny suddenly coughs. “But it appears as if we already have guests.” He slowly stands from his chair and makes his way to sit next to your mother. They would be your chaperones for the evening and any other event for the season. You know that he would rather not be here, but your mother had to remind him of his duty. To you, and to the family.

“How exciting! Now remember,” Your mother exclaims before assessing you with her eyes, “smile, be kind, and do not push too hard on the whole…love match aspect. We want our guests to feel welcome and to get to know them, yes?” You nod obediently, not minding her words. Such control, the woman wanted. From your hair to your shoes and dress, she tried her best to dress and present you as a pretty doll. “Yes, mother.” You nod once more, your lip forming into a thin line of a smile as you manage to sit up straight and mentally ready yourself. 

Many suitors came to call, the room filling with men and the sound of laughter as the day went on. They brought you flowers, boxes of chocolate, and some even went as far as bringing you a pair of earrings with your favorite jewels. The room was filled with gifts and men by noon, the energy and rushing making you grow weary by the third gentleman caller. It was strange, having so many eyes on you and being the center of attention. To have men try to entertain you with their small talk and aspirations in marriage and life, hoping you’d pick and entertain them back. 

Through it all, you kept thinking of Mr.Price. In the few minutes you spoke together, it did not feel like this at all. You wondered if it would be the same in your next meeting, if you would be tense or if he would be as welcoming as before. Every time a suitor left or came, you looked toward the door for any sight of him. You wanted to sight in disappointment each time you did not see him. The ache in your back only reminded you of him furthermore which each movement you made, his presence there even if he wasn’t. 

The whole of the morning felt so unnatural. Saying all the practiced and calculated responses your mother taught you, not like you at all. Even watching her speak to the callers, seeing her smile and compliment you so kindly felt like you were a part of some grand facade and did not know your role in it. As exciting as it was, it was also quite terrifying. The mountain of expectations was a weight you could not shake off of your shoulders.

It was strange to think, but to find any kind of normality throughout it all, you looked to Johnny. He sat at the window seat again, glancing over to watch you and your mother every few seconds, just as before. His presence grounded you, even if distant. While your mother put on an act, he was still himself. Your distant, kind but irritating, brother. 

You were in the middle of speaking to your mother's preferred suitor, Lord Harding, when you saw Johnny rise from his seat and excuse himself from the room. Your eyes follow him, and you can’t help but feel a small sense of disappointment and sadness watching him go. Of course he wouldn’t stay. You thought to yourself, but quickly shake the thought from your head and continue your conversation with the man beside you. 

“The gardens in my family home are quite beautiful, each rose bush having been planted and cared for since the start of my family's lineage. My mother hopes to host a ball near the end of the season, I hope I am able to show them to you soon.” The man says to you, his voice sincere and kind.The gentleman was kind and respectful, young and handsome with a sort of boyish charm that made talking to him a bit easier than the other callers. “I would be most delighted to.” You reply with a smile, ready to ask him more about his family home when you see your brother walk back into the room from the corner of your eye. You hadn’t expected him to come back, much less with a guest. You move your body slightly, turning to see who it was he came back with. 

What you saw next, you did not expect.The sight shocks you. Your eyes widen, a gasp leaves you, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you realize who was with your brother. Your mother, who has been sitting across from you, follows your line of sight. Her eyes widen slightly as well, before a sigh leaves her lips. 

Johnny’s guest locked eyes on you the second he stepped in the room.

“Mr.Price.” The name leaves your mouth before you can even think. 

“Miss…Mactavish.” He looks just as shocked as you were. His eyes widen, but the same soft smile from last night makes its way upon his lips.

“What?” Johnny cuts in. You both look towards him the second he speaks. Confused, and almost upset, Johnny's eyes meet yours. You open your mouth, ready to explain, but he only looks back to the man at the door. 

Now, you have seen him upset a handful of times, but in those times you knew what to do. Knew what to say, knew when to walk away.  But looking at him look at Price, all you could do was hold your breath. 

Oh hell. 

Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

A/n: This chapter was meant to be a bit silly, but im not sure if i was able to do it that well🥲 Also my first time writing a Scottish accent for Johnny! Apologies if i got anything wrong. More to come soon and I hope you all enjoyed 🩵💖!!

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - Mine All Mine

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning(s): Relationship insecurities, minor angst

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Nobody embodied black cat and golden retriever like Jack and I. Heart warming and full of wonder clashed in a crunchy harmony with indifference and a guarded personality. Jack had an innocence that made him special. I sometimes wondered just how blind he was to the cruelties of the world, but I never dared to ruin that part of him. I envied Jack in only the way a girlfriend could. I wished I could see the world the way he did, and yet I knew I never would. My mind had been tainted by past and present. By reality and technology. While Jack seemed so perfectly protected from the atrocities of life, I seemed to always encounter them.

I saw Jack as an angel. Heaven sent. Myself? I was merely a tainted soul who’d gotten lost on the way to hell. My darkness made his light all the more prominent.

“I love that movie!” His loud voice carried across the venue. I peered over my glass of wine toward a table full of seated men and women. Jack was always so social. Especially at parties. Despite my love for weddings, I was not as outwardly jovial. I had a subtle adoration for things. A solemn love. I liked to sit and observe, and enjoy things alone. At least that was the way I had been before Jack. He was one of the only people who had ever been able to breach my walls.

People often told Jack he was too loud, how amusing was it that I was one of the only people who loved his volume. His expressiveness.

Though I did not crack a smile, my eyes lingered. And my heart thudded. Jack looked amazing. I prayed for the day that we too could be like the couple sitting alone enjoying a meal with fresh rings on their fingers, preparing to lay up our treasures together in our new home. My eyes locked with the woman next to Jesper. Our lingering gazes broke when her lips parted, and the distain in the woman’s expression spoke volumes despite her whispers.

I was not blind to the general disliking people took to me. Nobody ever understood how Jack and I were together, or how we worked. People were open about their disinterest in our relationship. A disrespectful and hurtful thing in many ways. But I had never been one to express my pain that others inflicted. I understood their concern, and yet it hurt all the same.

In truth, I too questioned my relationship with Jack. I feared I brought him down. I feared being with him did the exact opposite of what I swore to do when I chose to love him. I feared I held his wonder back.

I watched the woman’s distain shift into disgust. Jack seemed to reply to her words, but I could barely focus on him when she looked so… displeased. My heart sank. People often said I did not try hard enough to make Jack happy, and that was an easy factor to believe if nobody ever saw us in private. Though at first I used to scoff and roll my eyes, the more it was said, the more I began to believe.

I lost interest in the expensive wine I held, placing the glass down harder than I expected on the table. Maroon liquid rained down stop the white tablecloth. Smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress before I stood, I drew in a steadying breath. I needed a break from the party.

I found my way to the back of the large venue, pushing open one of the doors into the hallway. A cold gust of air hit my bare shoulders, causing me to shiver. The crowd inside the reception hall had made the room fairly hot. I did not expect the major temperature change.

My pace slowed as I found myself in a safer space, out of the vision of prying gazes. I strolled down the hall, my eyes settling on the strings of photos of the bride and groom. I envied how wide the bride seemed to make the groom smile in every photo. I never had that effect on Jack. I was not hilarious or quick witted. I had no great jokes, and even my accidents were never humorous. Of course Jack would argue, but I never agreed with him. Was I everything Jack needed? Or was everyone right? My heart hurt at the idea. Was I holding Jack back? Another shiver caused my hands to wrap around my own body. I rubbed my arms in hopes of warming up, my eyes locking on a photo of the beautiful couple at the last All Stars red carpet. Even in public, the bride could put on a show. Emotional loneliness quickly snuck up on me. Jack never had to worry about being unfulfilling in our relationship. Nobody questioned if he was doing enough. Nobody judged him. He didn’t understand. Nobody did.

“It’s freezing out here.” The loneliness only deepened at the sound of his voice. I was so enveloped in my own mind that I didn’t truly register Jack’s presence until he was draping his suit jacket over my shoulders, and wrapping his arms around my frame. I leaned into his chest, instinctually.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” Jack always knew how to settle in my presence. As much as I loved his loud and energetic side, I loved his quiet and sweet side even more. Jack surprised me with how intimate he could make almost any situation. Even this, standing together in solemn silence, feet away from a room full of people.

“Jack,” I spoke in return, turning my head to rest my cheek on his shoulder.

“I know.” He whispered. “I always know.” He didn’t always have the right things to say, but Id give him credit for knowing what to say about 90% of the time. I stood silently in his arms, uncertain of how to respond. How to open up. “Jesper’s girlfriend doesn’t know shit.” He broke the silence, “She doesn’t know you.” Addressing the topic never seemed to make it better. At least not in the moment. Tears threatened to ruin my maskera. “It’s just talk. That’s all it ever is. They don’t know you.” His grip tightened on me, and I shook my head. I would never see myself the way Jack saw me.

“What if everybody’s right? What if you’re just blind to my flaws because you think you love me?” I whispered, averting my gaze to the ceiling in a feeble attempt to avoid shedding any tears.

“Baby, I’m not blind to your flaws. I know you have ‘em, and I love every single one. But don’t you ever think that your personality is a flaw.” I tensed as Jack’s arms released me from their grip, but I allowed him to spin me around so we could stand face to face. His warm hand gently cupped my jaw, and I found myself yearning to be perfect for him. Wishing that I could be more deserving of the man in front of myself.

“Everybody tells me I’m too loud, and everybody tells you that you’re too quiet. We just balance each other out, eh?” He flashed a tiny grin in my direction. “There’s always gonna be haters, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you.” I finally mustered the ghost of a smile, blinking to try and rid of the tears quickly.

“Even when I’m antisocial?” I prodded softly, maybe to boost my own ego. I reached upwards to wipe my tears, only for Jack to grab my hand and wipe them for me.

“Your silence is so hot.” I found amusement in his words, as well as embarrassment. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as an involuntary laugh parted my lips. “There’s my girl.” Jack brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Proving everybody wrong one grin at a time.” The brunette grabbed ahold of my other hand, taking a backwards step and urging me to follow with a gentle tug. “Come dance with me. Please. I’ve wanted to get you in my arms all night.”

How could a woman feel any more wanted?

“Let me love you, please.”

How could a woman say no?

“My love..” I whispered, reluctant to move.

“In front of everyone else.” Jack insisted. “I want them to know I’m happy.” His words took the breath from my lips. The tears returned, but for more positive reasons.

“You’re happy,” I echoed as a gentle reminder to myself.

“I’ve never been happier.” I finally relented, moving along with Jack back through the hallway. Alongside him, I felt much less anxious about being observed by the crowd. I avoided their gazes as we entered the reception hall once more, hand in hand. Jack led me effortlessly toward the dance floor, at a steady but comfortable pace. I refused to allow my eyes to leave his frame, even as he pulled me into the middle of the floor, enveloping me in his arms all over again. The embrace was warm and safe. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as he slowly began to sway. I allowed his movements to shift my own body, closing my eyes to take it all in.

“Fuck ‘em all.. yeah?” Jack whispered in my ear. I chuckled.

“I like that.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Your Fault

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is pregnant and suffering from morning sickness, only to be comforted by Daryl. Takes place in Alexandria. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me).

Tropes: Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Established Relationship

Warnings: I mean, I don't think there's any. If anything I'll say references to past smut, but not explicit at all. Mentions of vomiting.

Word Count: 1.5K

Note: This is written in a dialect style with Daryl's accent in mind so the misspellings are intentional. There is minimal use of (y/n).  Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you". I tried to proofread the best I could, but nobody's perfect. If you don't like, don't read, but if you do like you're my favorite!

Internal monologue is done in italics.

ENJOY!

Main Masterlist

Prequel Fic "Meet Cute"

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

Daryl's hand is soft, tangling into the strands of your hair to pull it back from your face as you unleash the remnants of your dinner into the toilet with a loud groan. The brightly colored tile on the bathroom wall mocks you, each swirl of color illuminated by the fluorescent light above that hurts your sensitive eyes.

Who picks bright pink for bathroom tile?

You think with a groan as your stomach heaves again.

Daryl’s right hand rubs soothing circles into your back  to let you know he's there.

“It’s alrigh. Jus get it all ou.” He mutters.

You had practically run him over when you ran to the bathroom, waving your arms to make him go away, not wanting to see you like this, but Daryl had ignored your half hearted attempts to push him away.

And even though you hadn’t wanted him to see you like this, it was easier. Daryl made everything easy, effortless, and most importantly made you feel loved, more loved than you had felt before all of this.

Your forehead presses against the cool lip of the toilet as you wipe the remnants of dinner off your chin and let out a shaky breath.

"Here." Daryl gently pulls you back from your position to wipe at your chin with a towel.

"Hmm." You lean into his touch with a sigh.

"Ya alrigh?"

"Ughh."

“Come on.” He pulls you against his chest, sitting back so his back is against the bathtub, folding his knees in front of him and dwarfing the already small bathroom.

Daryl looks almost exactly the same as he did when you first met and every time you look at him, you feel the exact same. Butterflies flapping against the walls of your stomach, heart surging up into your throat while pins and needles trace his well placed rough fingertips against your arm. Every touch feels like the first, every kiss sets you on fire, and you wouldn't change a second of it. Sometimes you think just how lucky you are that all this happened, because you can’t imagine your life without him. Admittedly a little selfish, but  then you think of what your life would have been if none of this had happened.

Maybe you would still be in Atlanta finishing up your residency, still live in that apartment downtown, still have the same shifts, eat at the same restaurants- but then where would Daryl be?

Where else would you meet someone who got you so simply, who understood what you were thinking just with a quick glance. Who else would make you feel like you’d swallowed the sun when you found them looking at you?

And who else would you love as utterly and completely as you love him?

"This is your fault." You lean your head against his shoulder, stretching out your legs to knock your thigh against Daryl’s knee.

He was  taller than you, broader and stronger in all the best ways. It was what drew you to him, well that and you thought that it was cute how shy he was, how he'd stumble a bit through his words when you first started talking and how the tips of his ears would flush pink when you smiled at him.

"My fault?" You can hear the smile in his voice. Daryl shifts his arm up over your shoulder to pull you closer into his chest, brushing his hand up and down your arm, letting you settle into him.

"Yes. It's your fault I'm pregnant." Your right hand runs over your stomach that has begun to protrude more in the past few months, a whirlwind to be sure, but a welcome one. The initial 30 days had been 30 days of agony while you tried to think of a way to tell Daryl that he was going to be a father. When you first started dating he had been hesitant to tell you about the raised pink scars on his back and chest- the ones you had seen when patching up a bullet wound that he had taken for you.

And when he finally told you what his father did to him, you couldn't help but fold him into you and hold him close.

The pregnancy wasn't a surprise to you, you'd been living together since you'd arrived at Alexandria and this was a happy accident. But nevertheless when you told Daryl he had left without so much as a word taking your heart with him. You had stayed in bed for what seemed like days, only to have him arrive 4 hours later with a bouquet of wildflowers and prenatal vitamins, where he found them you didn't know, all that mattered was that he was back and he was happy. Happier than you'd ever seen him.

Since then Daryl had been at your side almost constantly, the occasional run had intervened, when Rick himself had to  drag Daryl away, but on each run Daryl always brought something back for you. Whether it be another book you could read together, one of the last candy bars to ever exist, or a knitted blanket to cover your shoulders when you dragged yourself into the bathroom at what seemed all hours of the day- like the exact one you had draped around yourself now. And when he wasn't on runs he was helping you with the small nursery, where a hand carved crib stood as another sign of Daryl’s love, the exact crib that made you burst into tears when he and Rick brought it into the house for the first time.

"Pretty sure we were both there." He rumbles with a smile.

"Logistics don't matter." Your eyes narrow.

"Pretty sure they do. Ya're the doc after all." Daryl's smirk makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, the same smirk that got you into this mess in the first place. "I also remember that ya were wearin my shirt-"

"Typical man blaming the woman for what she's wearing. I thought you were better than that."

His smirk grows. "More like what ya weren't wearin."

"My clothes were wet from the storm, I was trying to change-"

"Inta' my shirt!"

You lean away from him, feigning anger. "Oh you think you're so innocent? You came into the house soaked to the bone and no one should look as good as you do soaking wet." You accuse.

"Maybe you should have shut your eyes then." He shrugs.

"Shut up." Your hands fall against his chest, playfully pushing him away, but he grabs your wrists.

"Make me."

"Don't look at me like that." You groan shifting away from him. "That's what got us into this mess in the first place-" Your eyes search his face for a minute, taking in the familiar blue eyes and scruff that scratches against the smooth skin of your fingertips. "But at least we know it's a girl. No more Daryl Jr."

"We ain't gonna call 'im tha. And how do ya know it's a girl?"

"They say that  if it's a girl you get sick more often.”

He snorts, pulling you back into his chest. "The way ya are going we might be havin' two."

"Shut up. Don't joke about that. One's enough, and this one is taking it's sweet time."

"Maybe jus' likes it in there."

You groan into his solid chest, feeling his muscles tense around you, familiar and welcome.  "Everyone always talks about what a blessing it is to be pregnant, how you glow, blah blah blah. It's all propaganda! I feel like I'm smoldering. I'm fat, my feet hurt, I'm sick all the time-"

"Ya ain' fat y/n."

"Don't lie to me." You sit up to look him in the eye. "You made a promise to not lie to me."

"I ain' lying." He breathes.

You search his gaze, nostrils flaring as if you think you can smell the lie, but all you smell is Daryl. The hypnotic scent of cigarettes (that he refused to smoke around you), sweat,  the heady smell of the woods and the smell of a thunderstorm before it hits, that  clean smell of rain  as it dribbles through the branches above before falling onto your skin.

"Ya're even more beautiful than the firs' day I met ya." Daryl's touch is feather light against your cheek, drawing you closer so he can press his forehead against yours. "Pretty sure ya get more beautiful every day. And if this is a girl-" His free hand drags across your belly, smiling as the baby kicks against his fingers. "She's gonna be beautiful jus' like ya."

You feel the blush drift up into the roots of your hair remembering the day you met. “That was a crazy day-“

“Because ya shot me.”

“It only skimmed your hair, don’t be a baby. And I thought you were a walker.”

“Las' time I checked my hair is on top of my head.”

“You were fine.” Your palms gently fall against the scruff of his cheeks. “I’m really glad I missed.”

“Me too."

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

Thank you so much for reading!!

If you liked this fic, be sure to read the prequel “Meet Cute,” that shows the story of how Daryl and the Reader met!

[arimiaromage]

thoughts about dgm chapter 251

gonna throw my thoughts about these new revelations here.

bookman jr or past!allen?

she got us good! I was in shock when I first read it (all my headcanons about pasta, out the window! thrown! chunked!) but now I'm more fine with it.

I believe what happened was that hoshino drew the bookman jr in those flashbacks with nea on purpose - she wanted us to think that was allen and bookman jr. the flashbacks aren't past!allen with longer hair, this is definitely the bookman jr, as we can tell now.

it also makes more sense now why "allen" was talking about high concepts like the spiral being the force for life - it really was a bookman!

I fully think she did this switcharoo on purpose. if we look at her most recent livestream (translated by ponkotsubluuues), someone comments that they were shocked past!allen and bookman jr weren't the same person. her response is basically "yes, I know". she's not surprised people would think that, this was probably deliberately on purpose.

bookman jr & past!allen

okay, now on to some thoughts on who they actually are. I won't stick long here as we'll probably find out in just a few months and we don't have much to go on right now.

personally, I don't really care to ever meet allen's blood relatives. it's never interested me who he's "actually" related to and I always felt it would add even more complicated feelings for him and even more complexity to an already messy as hell family & relationship tree.

that being said, I wouldn't be surprised if bookman jr and allen are some kind of family unit, be it blood related or not. when they begin talking about the two of them as separate people, lucia refers to them as "two young men". so they're probably not father and son, but I could see them as brothers or some sort of brotherhood if they're not blood related.

maybe past!allen is a traveling clown who toured the world with bookman jr LOL.....?

either way, bookman jr was so compelled to protect allen & nea that he gave his life for them. I'm so, so eager to see their bond.

cross marian

who the hell is cross marian in all of this?

we know the cross has been around since almost adam's time, having been with mana and nea since they were children-

so we know that regardless of who is he, he's known about and visited the campbell manor for decades.

in this chapter, they even bring him up by name.

not only does allen ask about him, but lucia talks a bit about him as well.

and note that they're not saying something like "my master left a message for me" and lucia just goes along with it- allen says "my master cross" and lucia continues by saying his full name. she knows exactly who he's talking about.

(allen specifically says "cross shishou" = "master cross" but lucia called him "cross marian")

to me, this is one of the main reasons I don't believe cross is bookman jr. I believe he's somehow tied to the bookman, but I don't think he's the missing jr. if he was, why does lucia refer to him as cross here but not later? she clearly knows who allen is referring to, so wouldn't the bookman have searched for cross and found him with relative ease, given he was at the order for quite a while with bookman & lavi up until apocryphos attacked him?

lucia and the master only refer to bookman jr as "junior", not cross marian. if you're desperately looking for cross marian and are fully aware allen knows who that is, then why not call him that? what do you have to lose at this point?

and furthermore, if cross was this bookman jr, how did he forget who HE made the host? how did he lose allen? redarm!allen looks a lot more like this new past!allen and they both have redish brown hair - if you were traveling with this guy, you should be able to recognize him even if he's de-aged like 8 years, ESPECIALLY once mana takes him in and his hair becomes styled the exact same way.

I know we always have the deus ex machina of apocryphos' memory changing but I really don't want that to be the case for every character, the more you do it the more it becomes a contrivance.

cross definitely has SOME connection to the bookman, I don't feel like his mask and knowledge of bookman things is entirely a red herring. lucia makes it sound like cross reached out to them regarding the campbell manor, but I'll get to that in a bit.

the other leading theory is that cross is cyrus campbell, katerina's brother and head of the family. I feel like this holds a bit more water than him being a bookman, as it'd explain why he was the campbell manor when mana and nea were so young (and presumably before nea became a noah) and why he has worked so tirelessly for both of them.

remember, his innocence maria greatly resembles katerina. it's possible this is katerina's corpse, being infested by innocence. maybe this is from innocence cross was carrying finding its way to her corpse or maybe it was a failed attempt to save her, we don't really know yet.

(I'm not fully convinced about the cyrus theory either though, as why does nea refer to cross as cross instead of cyrus or uncle? how would the order not know about his family and how obviously tied to the noah he is? how could he not recognize allen, his nephew's most trusted friend?)

there have been some theories that maybe the campbells are a bookman family, which may be the case and would help explain why cross has a connection to both, but the way lucia words this part makes me think otherwise.

she makes it sound like the campbell manor wasn't always under their jurisdiction, that it came to be that way but wasn't always. but that might be pulling at straws. I just don't think she'd word it this way if cross = bookman jr.

I'm not fully convinced about either theory about cross as I see holes in both of them. just have to wait and see~

personally I'd still like it if cross was just a childhood friend who got way too attached but we'll see 😂 or maybe he was just pining for katerina from afar....

crown clown

I feel pretty confident now that this is past!allen being hugged by bookman jr, possibly for the last time / as bookman jr's way to protect him.

but I also can't help but feel.... it reminds me of crowned clown, you know? the way it wraps around allen, covering him in an attempt to protect him. even the cut off tips. it really reminds me of that.

the bookman are no stranger to innocence. we also don't know when allen acquired his innocence- did past!allen have it? or...... did bookman jr give it to him as he was dying? did he think it would protect him and nea (and why would he give a noah innocence)?

I would not be surprised if there was some connection between bookman jr and allen's innocence.

allen

I absolutely loved this part.

the pure conviction in his face. no regrets. he finally has a chance to clear up his mind, to cast away the fear he's dealt with for so long about who he actually is. so, so good.

but........ WHO IS ALLEN WALKER????? the burning question. who knows at this point.

I'm very excited to see the next parts, even if it apparently isn't the 35 year flashback (her own words, from the aforementioned livestream) - I assume it'll be a flashback to past!allen meeting nea possibly, or them finding out nea isn't a typical noah, or some major event that happened before shit went down.

yeah that's about it, see yall next time ✌️

[feelo-fick]

Au where eating the demons desire makes Laios immortal

Demons Curse

—

WHYYYYY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO MEEEEEEE WHYYYY SNIFF SNIFF IM SO SAD. IMS O SAD. I DREW THIS WHILE FALLING APART AT THE SEAMS. uaogh okay let me get my thoughts out about this

i originally was sorta happy in a bittersweet way cause i thought, well at least marcille has company, they have eachother to lean on now!

...but then i realized marcille isnt immortal. shes gonna live LONG, but shes not immortal. AND I GOT SO EXTREMELY SAD

can you imagine, trying to convince your friend not to extend everyones lifespans to a scarily long degree. and then having to help her deal with that fear and grief of losing her loved ones. AND THEN REALIZING YOURE IMMORTAL AND OUTLIVING ALL OF YOUR LOVED ONES INCLUDING HER. imagine being marcille as she gets older watching laios experience the same exact fear and grief she knows so well and knowing she cant do anything other than reassure him itll be alright. imagine being so scared to die and now suddenly you know someone who CANT die and realizing thats SO MUCH WORSE paces in circles. AAAAAAUGH

additional thought of this au, what if this was part of the demons curse to never allow laios' greatest desire to be granted? i mean laios is a very simple guy with simple wants, he wants to be loved, to eat good food, to study monsters, to be around his friends, and generally just live a normal life. being immortal would definitely complicate things... he'll be able to see and experience so many things but he wont be able to do it with his loved ones, not for long.

and also, being king, he'd probably be in that position for a long long time - maybe he'd willingly retire at some point but even after that where would he go then? what would he do? he cant go and find monsters to study, they all avoid him. i guess, explore the rest of the world? watch everything move on without him?

speaking of, imagine if he lived up until a time like modern day. so many years so many friends (gained and lost) and so many changes... that would be insane. THIS IS SPIRALLING INTO ME JUST GOING "WOULDNT IT BE FUCKED UP TO BE IMMORTAL" AJDNSJXBAH

anyways, final note, im reminded too of this "hand my my shovel, im going in!" animatic that haunts my mind forever AUGH its so good, and captures my immortality thoughts perfectly

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Plageurise Plageurise Plageurise by u/Rescheduled1

Plageurise, Plageurise, Plageurise So I was watching the “Heartland” series reruns, which is a popular tv show filmed in Canada, based on the books of the same name, and being horsey people we love that show and have the series taped. Lo and behold, we were on Season 8 episode 17 titled “All I Need is You” and released in 2015. (3 years prior to Harry and Skank’s wedding) The most interesting part was that Ty and Amy (after going through much drama which nearly saw their wedding plans ruined) decide they can’t wait to be married one more minute and drive to the nearest town to elope just days before their actual wedding. The dialogue very much reminded me of what Meghan said about her and Harry not being able to wait and getting married in a private ceremony a few days before their actual wedding. It was very similar to Ty and Amy deciding spontaneously they couldn’t wait another minute, and that they want the ceremony for just themselves. The episode ends with them standing in front of a minister at a church in another town. This got me thinking that Heartland, being very popular, surely would have been the type of show that perhaps Meghan had seen, living in Canada at the time. Perhaps even this particular episode. She has been known to plageurise, and takes bits and pieces from films and books and makes them her own. I decided to go down the proverbial rabbit hole and drew from my memory other things that Meghan either did or said, which sounded like something I’ve seen in film. Take for instance that childish tongue sticking out on her very first Sunday service with the Royals (unforgettable poo emoji hat) - the same childlike sticking out of tongue is from Eddie Murphy’s “Coming to America” where at the end of the movie the bride sticks her tongue out at the plebs as she rides away in oppulance. Then there is Harry’s accounting of his fight with William in Spare, where William rips his necklace as the fall to the ground in a tussle. This is almost an exact replay of the brotherly fight scene from “La Bamba” where Richie Valen’s older brother scraps with him and rips off his necklace as they fall to the ground. It is my opinion that Meghan’s entire life is made up of many different movie scenes, all plageurised and changed just ever so slightly to make it sound like her own. Feel free to pile on with any other plageurised observances. post link: https://ift.tt/2lyk9uS author: Rescheduled1 submitted: October 26, 2024 at 07:33AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[dsudis]

Adaptive Tea Making

For @domaystic Day 5: Learning Something New.

Dream is human now, and determined to learn how to make his beloved a cup of tea. He just has a small difficulty with time to get over.

___

Hob looked over at Dream, who was perched on a stool at the kitchen bench with his ever-present notebook open to a fresh page, his phone unlocked beside it, and an actual stopwatch beside that. He had a pencil in his hand, freshly sharpened, and a second pencil also perfectly sharpened set beside the notebook.

Hob had secondhand text anxiety just looking at those pencils. 

"Ready?" Hob asked, though surely it was not possible to be more ready than Dream currently was. 

Dream didn't even meet his gaze, his eyes fixed firmly on Hob's hands. "Ready. Please show me, one more time, how to make a cup of tea the way you like it." 

As Dream spoke he wrote on the pristine notebook page: Hob's tea instructions. His handwriting was crooked and crabbed but legible. 

"So--there's water in the kettle already," Hob said, feeling like possibly he was the one being tested. However he made this cup of tea, Dream would continue making this exact cup of tea for him forever. 

Hob was fine with that. Hob would frankly have been fine with continuing to get wildly undrinkable cups of tea from Dream forever, but Dream was determined to learn this particular human skill correctly, and seemed somehow convinced that this time he was going to crack it. 

Hob flipped the switch. Dream turned on a timer on his phone and then wrote down the first two steps: water in kettle and turn on kettle. He also wrote to one side, Phone timer: total length of process and drew a little line beside it to be filled in with a number later. 

They had learned, after Dream had committed a series of frankly baffling tea mishaps including "hot water with no detectable trace of tea" and "oversteeped to the point of activating an immortal's gag reflex through sheer bitterness" and "boiled the kettle dry" that Dream had no real sense of how time passed. It passed how he wished it to pass, in the Dreaming, and even in the Waking he had always been able to nudge reality a bit to make the flow of time conform to his narrative sense or personal convenience.  

Now that he was divested of those powers and operating a human body, the linear flow of time had so far made absolutely no impression on Dream. Hob had had to point out to him things like "if you wake up and it is still dark, it is still night, and you will probably want to go back to sleep until it's light out" and how often meals should happen.  

It was the tea that had made it clear that even telling Dream times when things should happen was not very helpful to him. He couldn't seem to hold the numbers in his head or make sense of them when he consulted a clock. Hob had simply started giving him other ways of gauging the passage of time, teaching him about the sun's position in the sky at mealtimes and when Hob returned from work, and about the activity of people visible from the windows, and which programs on the telly corresponded reliably to morning, afternoon, and evening. 

Hob had spent long stretches of time--most of his life, really--without access to clocks. People nowadays were obsessed with them, and with precise timing for everything, but Dream wouldn't need to worry about being punctual to a work shift or keeping all sorts of appointments. Hob could help him with where precision was needed, and could teach him to get along where it wasn't. 

Tea, unfortunately, was a matter of some precision. When the kettle let out the first gurgles, Hob grabbed the tea canister. "Plenty of times I just use bag tea, but my insufferably posh lover seems set on spoiling me, so," Hob scooped tea into the strawberry-shaped infuser. "This is what we've got in place of a tea bag. Time-wise, either should work the same." 

Dream faithfully wrote down prepare infuser (or tea bag).

"The timing for the kettle will change a bit. A smaller amount of water boils faster. There's a bit over two cups in right now," Hob pointed to the line on the side, "so it takes a little over two minutes." 

Dream wrote down kettle boils and then waited watchfully until the kettle hit its automatic shutoff and consulted the time. Kettle shuts off, he wrote down, and then 2:38 with a tidy little asterisk beside it.

"Infuser goes in mug," Hob narrated. "Pour the water over it, leave about an inch at the top for milk. And start your stopwatch, because this is the bit I couldn't tell you, because I do it by feel." 

Dream started the stopwatch and scribbled down more notes, drawing a little box for the all-important steeping time to be entered. Hob watched the mug, wondering once again how he did know when it was done steeping. He'd tried more than once to describe it to Dream, but none of his descriptions had been at all helpful--as proven by the various disastrous cups of tea--and had only frustrated both of them. 

He wanted to fill the silence, but Hob didn't dare mess this up for Dream, when he was so determined to get this right. Most of human life had come easily enough to him, once he set himself to adapt to it, but tea had thwarted him. Hob was a little worried that Dream was building this up into some kind of epic battle of wills he had to win to Succeed At Being Human. 

Dream looked up at him expectantly and Hob looked back down at his mug, a little worried that he'd gotten distracted--he'd certainly oversteeped his tea enough times for one reason or another--but no, a sniff and a glance told him it wasn't quite there yet. "Almost," Hob said. "Not really a bad cup of tea if you stop now, but not quite." He drummed his fingers, waiting for-- 

"Ah," Hob said, "Now." He reached for the infuser and lifted it out, and the stopwatch clicked at the exact instant it cleared the top of the mug. Hob set the infuser in the sink and then swirled the cup of tea, giving it another sniff to be sure, but yes, that was a just-right cup of tea. He grabbed the jug of milk and looked to see that Dream was intently watching before he poured in a dollop. 

Dream's eyes narrowed slightly and then he nodded and wrote down a specific liquid volume that Hob was sure was in fact precisely correct--Dream's spatial skills were laser-accurate and slightly unnerving.  

"And a spoonful of sugar, because I'm feeling like it today," Hob said. "I do honey sometimes. Sometimes two spoonfuls of sugar." He stirred in the sugar and sipped. "And that's--" 

Dream clicked the timer on his phone and recorded the time, then picked up the phone and tapped rapidly at it. "Tell me that the water should boil about now," Dream said, and held out the phone like a reporter's microphone. 

"Water should be boiling about now," Hob parroted obediently.  

Dream nodded, tapped at the phone again, and said, "Now tell me the tea is ready."  

When Dream held out the phone, Hob said, "Tea's ready, love." 

Dream was startled into a smile at that addition, and asked, "How is it?" 

"Just right," Hob said. "But if you--" 

Dream shook his head, still smiling, and went back to tapping at things on his phone. "These things are amazing, you know?" Dream said. "I thought I would have to learn magic, but these are like little prosthetic memories. If you work out all the steps, you can make it do all these things for you. Well, not for you, you don't need it. For me." 

"I mean, I'd be lost without my calendar and things," Hob said. He'd never thought of technology to solve Dream's difficulty with time. He'd thought it was just more clocks all the way down, there. 

"Watch," Dream said, and then, to his phone, "Computer, making a cup of tea." 

"Acknowledged," his phone replied, because Dream had watched possibly too many sci-fi movies with Hob at what had turned out to be a formative time in his life. "When there is water in the kettle, turn the kettle on." 

Dream mimed flipping the switch on the kettle. 

Nothing happened, since Dream was still a good yard away from the kettle. Reminded, Hob ran some more water into it and put it back. He was sipping his tea again and nearly choked on it when his own voice came from Dream's phone. "Water should be boiling about now." 

"Computer, wait," Dream said, and the phone was back to its Computer voice when it said, "Acknowledged." 

"In case there is more water in the kettle," Dream said. "If there is less, I will be able to tell it to skip ahead when the water boils." 

"Computer, resume," Dream added to the phone. 

"Prepare the infuser, then pour boiling water over it." 

Dream mimed dropping the infuser into the mug, then pouring the water. "Computer, steeping." 

"Steeping," the computer said, sounding slightly stilted like it had had to assemble that word from individual sounds instead of having it pre-recorded.  

"I'll be able to use this for anything to do with timing," Dream said, scratching down more notes in his notebook. "I just have to set the intervals and key phrases, and optionally recordings for specific announcements, and then I will be able to do things that need timing. As long as I have my phone. Possibly I should get one of those watches." 

"That's no trouble, then," Hob said, pulling out his own phone to order a watch to sync with Dream's phone. "And you know I'm always happy to be your speaking clock, love."  

Dream came around the bench and kissed him, curling a hand around Hob's on his mug. "I shall feed you your lines when I need them," Dream said, and somehow it was desperately romantic and made Hob so proud he could cry, knowing Dream knew that Hob would always be glad to help him do things in his own way. 

He opened his mouth to try to say it, his heart almost too full for words, and was cut off by his own voice from Dream's phone. "Tea's ready, love." 

[Now on Ao3!]

[rabbitbandit05]

this has been a thought in my mind forever, but can we get a modern mizu x reader who is getting bullied or made fun of at college or whatever. rumors are spread about the reader at parties, and in general the reader is having a tough time dealing with all of the false rumors or like bullying, and mizu just FLIPS and puts matters into her own hands? :3 (if you dont write modern mizu, thats okay, i just thought this would be a fun idea getting to see a protective mizu)

Anon, thank you for this request! I genuinely had such fun doing it, and had so many ideas that I tried to capture as many as I could (so it might be a bit over the place- sorry 😬). And I in fact do write modern Mizu!

The dynamic I was going for was Nana and Hachi (from Nana- if you know them ily)- and just kinda rolled with it. I also tried to use Y/N instead of reader or ‘you’, and I think I prefer it, however am open to feedback.

Also, again, Requests are open!

Enjoy!!

Word count: 3229 words

Warnings: Bullying, rumors, drama, I’m not sure what else to warn about

“I heard that she’ll sleep with anyone who offers themselves to her”

“No, really? Well, I guess when you look like that, you get desperate for attention..”

No one besides Y/N was really sure how the rumors had started. It was as if over night, the quiet, sensitive Y/N that everyone knew was erased and replaced with a much more sinister outlook on her.

“She never struck me for the type, not with her non-existent social life-”

“I wouldn't be too sure. She doesn't associate with people on campus, but have you seen her at the parties recently? There has to be some merit to the rumors with the way she dresses.”

But Y/N could pinpoint the exact moment they had started. It started with Y/N and Mizu meeting.

Campus was huge, and completely new to Y/N, who was still trying to find her way around. Y/N was a transfer student completing her bachelors after transferring from a community college in her area. To make matters worse for the already social awkward Y/N, she came in during spring semester- the middle of the academic year. By then, new students and transfers from fall had already formed their social groups, and that left Y/N to once again, be outcasted.

However, Y/N had already made a promise to herself that she would find friends and go out more often. And so when she heard of a Valentines day party that one of the Sororities on campus was hosting for students in her year, she decided she would go. Worst case scenario would be that she left if the vibe wasn't for her.

And so the fateful evening came and Y/N found herself getting ready for the party. That was how she had met Mizu. Y/N could still remember the sight of her. She had walked into the small, cramped house that was blaring with music. She couldn't walk two steps without bumping into someone, and couldn't hear her own feet hit the floor. It was a change from her usual solitude and quietness, and becoming dizzy with all the movement and sound, Y/N made a beeline for the nearest door leading outside, which happened to be to the backyard. In the backyard, the music from inside was muffled to a tolerable noise level, and Y/N took a deep breath in and out. And then, as if by some magic, she looked up and there she was, with a red solo cup in one hand, her hair in a half up and half down style that perfectly framed her sharp features, and the bluest eyes that Y/N had ever seen. Mizu drew Y/N to her with just a single glance, and call it fate, but Y/N (for the first time in her life) had the courage to go and introduce herself to the loner who stood at the edge of some makeshift garden.

After some talking and discovering that despite Mizu being a year ahead of Y/N, they both were studying the same major. They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and when Y/N woke up the next morning, Mizu had texted her asking if she would like to grab lunch. After having lunch, time seemed to pass quickly. Summer came, and they spent it together at one of mizu’s friends family summer home (His name was Ringo, if Y/N remembered correctly). Just them and the beach. There were times when they would both dive in the water, with Mizu going underwater and staying there long enough that Y/N would panic and wonder if she drowned. Luckily, that never happened and Mizu would emerge just as Y/N would dunk her head underwater to check for her.

And the fall came, and the happy times just… ended. The leaves turned brown, the flowers started to wilt and die off and Mizu’s schedule was packed fall semester with classes that she needed to take.Aside from the occasional meet up, they mostly conversed through text. Still, Y/N looked on the bright side and smiled when she would receive a text from Mizu. That was always the best part of her day. When she would receive the text messages that asked things like “did you eat today?” “Have you done your homework or are you procrastinating again?” and the rare “I miss you” text, Y/N would giggle and kick her feet, as if it was her lover asking her these things and not her best friend. She was sure, if Mizu had asked her to follow her to the ends of the world, Y/N would have. Is this how having a first love felt?

—-

The rumors made their way through campus, particularly though Y/N’s class and her major. It had started after Y/N had received a text messages in the middle of one of her classes from Mizu, asking if she was out of class yet. Y/N quickly responded back that she had 5 more minutes but before she could send that text, she heard a voice whisper something.

“Who is so important for her to be texting in the middle of class?” Y/N ignored it, as the person who whispered it didn't need to know and she hit send.

At the end of class, before Y/N could stand up to leave, she was confronted with the girl who had whispered wondering why Y/N was texting, and a few of her friends.

“Its rude to text during a lecture. What could be so important that it couldn't wait?”

Another one pipped up “What do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“Who im dating is none of your concern.” Y/N should have just said sorry and left it at that, but after hanging out with Mizu, she had found a new confidence in herself.

“So you were texting your boyfriend?”

“Thats rude to make assumptions-” Y/N started but was quickly cut off before she could get another word in.

“Oh so it was a hookup then? Never took you for the type.”

“I wasn't-” Y/N was cut off again

“How pathetic- so desperate that you have to text in class.” And finally, after the last berate and Y/N refusing to say anything, they all left, leaving Y/N to breath out a shaky sigh and stand up on her shaking legs.

After that day, Y/N received texts from unknown numbers asking her to hook up. She ignored them, playing it off as a prank, but then rumors started to go around campus, and those were harder to ignore. Y/N wont like and say that it was easy to ignore them, but she had been bullied for almost all of middle school and throughout high school, so she had thicker skin. However, what she wasn't expecting was a text. A week after the initial spread of the rumors, Y/N received a ominous text from Mizu:

‘we need to meet up.’

Y/N stared at the text for a good 10 minutes, thinking of how to respond. Should she deny the rumors? What if the reason why Mizu wanted to meet up wasn't because of the rumors but was to catch up? That would be self-centered of Y/N to think that Mizu wanted to meet up because of the rumors. But then why else when they hadn't seen each other for weeks? It had to be about the rumors going around.

This couldn't be happening to her. The only good thing in Y/N’s life ws Mizu, she couldn't lose her too. So with shaking hands, she typed as quickly as she could.

Y/N🌸:

‘Ok, how about we meet at luna’s?’

Mizu 🌊:

‘Does tomorrow morning- 10am work for you?’

Y/N🌸:

‘Yeah! Sounds perfect.’

Y/N shut off her phone before she got the urge to write anything else. She flopped onto her bed, and buried her head into her pillow. She hoped that this meeting with Mizu would clear the air and wouldn't break their friendship apart.

——

Y/N had arrived 15 minutes early at where they were supposed to meet- a tiny coffee shop near campus that they would go to in the spring. She decided she would get in line and order both of their usuals. When both drinks came out, Y/N sat down at an empty table and waited. The wait was horrible, though she knows that she was the one who decided to arrive early, and really she would only need to wait a few more minutes. And at exactly 9:58am, Y/N looked up and saw her.

“Hey Mizu,” Y/N waved the blue-eyed girl down from where she sat. Mizu took notice of Y/N and made her way over to the table, a small smile on her face. She had her hair up in a bun and wore casual attire, which somehow she looked even better in.

“Hey Y/N- how have you been?” The question was definitely loaded and Y/N wasn't sure how to respond to it. Y/N could feel Mizu’s eyes scanning her face, waiting for some sort of reaction or sure sign. Y/N shrugged her shoulders casually.

“I've been…. Well.” She said hesitantly, and then looked up into Mizus eyes. Judging by Mizu’s glare, she did not buy that. “Actually, it’s been a bit… rough lately…”

“I bet… I’ve heard what’s been going on…” her voice was calm. There was no ill will or anger mixed in her voice.

“How??” Y/N asked as concern reached her voice. Bad scenes ran through Y/N’s head just imagining how Mizu reacted when she found out. It would be even worse if it was the mean girls and her friends who told Mizu directly.

“I overheard Taigen saying something about it…” she closed her eyes and sighed in frustration. Y/N looked down and started fidgeting her her own fingers. “Do you have anything you wanna say or add?”

“The rumors… the- they aren't true. I would never…” she stopped to compose herself before continuing “Whats being said isnt a reflection of my character. I would never do any of the things that anyone is saying.”

“It doesn't matter, thats your own personal business Y/N, and you don't have to defend yourself.” She reached her hands out to calm Y/N as she could see her friend getting worked up. Mizu had meant well with her words. She had meant to phrase it as if there was nothing wrong even if the rumors were true, but Y/N shook her head fiercely as if objecting to her statement.

“It does matter for me!” Mizu’s eyes widened at the sudden voice raise from Y/N. She had never seen Y/N so angry about anything, and it worried her. “ I care about how you think of me… and right now, all I've been hearing is how I'm some slut making her way through the campus…I don't want you to see me like that, because thats not me. I want you to know the real me.” she paused. She could feel the tears in the corner of her eyes and hated the way that no matter how many times she blinked, they wouldn't go away. She took a deep breath in before finally saying “And I just want to know one person actually believes me… I’m so tired of being told what I am and what I’m not…”

“I believe you.” Mizu firmly said after thinking for a minute.

“Y-you do?” Y/N asked, hesitant at Mizu’s answer.

“I do. Over the past few months that we’ve talked, I never took you for the type. And I like to think I'm able to read a person very well. Regardless of what anyone else says about you, I like you…” Her words rang in Y/Ns head. They were warm and truthful and honestly, it made majority of Y/N’s fears disappear. Still- Y/N stared at Mizu in shock, not sure how to respond. The way Mizu stared at her with a small smile of reassurance and the gentleness of the hand that was placed atop of hers made this feel like a more intimate moment than it originally was. Then a cough erupted from Mizu-

“I mean- I like hanging out with you and you are really cool…” she placed a hand behind her head, a little bit of an awkward pose, and Y/N giggled responding back

“I like you too.” With that, Mizu sighed out and felt reassured by the pat of Y/N's hand on the back of her own. She had never been good with affection…

“So.. Now I guess we should start talking about how to solve this situation…” Mizu prompts, and Y/N raises an eyebrow.

“Solve it? How do we do that?” Y/N asked. She had tried to ignore it and that hadn’t worked, and Y/N standing up for herself made her worry that she would be bullied and targeted even more.

“Well, there are many ways we can do that, however it all depends on who started this and why? Do you know anyone who isn't particularly keen towards you? Anyone who would want to damage you reputation?” Mizu started tapping her fingers on the table, and Y/N shrunk her shoulders in embarrassment.

And so Y/N explained it. She started from the beginning, of how she had received a text (she left out that it was mizu’s text that started this), and how some of the girls in her class had made it their priority to ruin her reputation within their field of work all because Y/N had tried to stand up for herself.

There is a quiet that hangs in the air as the tap of Mizu’s finger stops. That instills more fear in Y/N than anything that Mizu could have said to her, as the blue eyed woman just stares at her intently. And then, as if in slow motion, Y/N sees it register in Mizu’s eyes what to do, and she starts babbling, saying anything she can to talk Mizu out of whatever she had planned.

“I-its not that big of a deal Mizu, Im a big girl and can handle myself- Besides i've heard much worse sa-” But before Y/N can ramble anymore, Mizu lays a gentle hand over her mouth. Not hard enough to truly silence her, but close enough that Y/N gets the hint and stops mid-sentence.

“Shut it. Nothing you say or do will change my mind.” Yeah, Y/N knew that. Knew better than anyone that when Mizu is set in her ways, she bends others to her will to achieve her goals. And so, there was really nothing that Y/N could do to change her mind, but even then, that was a hard pill to swallow.

“So… what are you planning on doing now?” Y/N asked, after Mizu removed her hand.

“Hmm. You'll see.” She shrugged as she stood up, gathering not only her things, but Y/N’s as well, and throwing it over her shoulder.

“I don't like the way that sounds… Also- where are you taking my things???” Y/N stood as well and stared incredulously at Mizu’s back as she walked away.

“We are going to go get dinner- my treat.” Y/N couldn't argue with that, and if she did, there is no doubt Mizu would walk away with her belongings and leave her without a computer or her textbook, so Y/N followed. She couldn't stay mad though, dinner was good and it tasted better knowing Mizu believed her and still wanted to see her.

—------

The next day, Y/N attended class, with her head down low, and trying to be as noticeable as possible, though that proved harder than she thought. Throughout the class she could hear students whispering about her. She couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but she knew what they were talking about. As the class wrapped up and the first student left, a familiar figure walked through the door and made a straight line towards Y/N.

“Mizu?” The shock of seeing the woman here had Y/N speechless “How did you know that I have this class today? And that I get out at this time?” Y/N asked Mizu, as Mizu picked up her bag for her. This was becoming a regular occurrence and Y/N wasn't sure weather she liked it or made her worry for Mizu’s back (especially with all the books she carries).

“That one day we were texting and you said you got out in 5 minutes? I made it a point to remember your schedule after that day.” Y/N blushed, and just gave a small ‘thank you’. Before either of them could get away though, they were both stopped.

“Hold it right there-” Mizu turned around, murder on her face, and Y/N shivered. She had to make a mental note to never get on Mizu’s bad side. And as she turned to look at who had stopped them, the fear she had of Mizu vanished and a cold ran through her.

It was her… the one who had started the rumors about Y/N and put her in this place in the first place. She felt so many emotions, mainly ranging from anger to sadness. Mizu on the other hand, just saw red.

“So what? Are you dating now too? I didn't know that Y/N slept around with both guys and girls-” Her high pitch voice rang in Y/N’s ears, and she felt her ears go red at the question and just the thought of it. However, Mizu’s face showed no indicator that the question had affected her at all. In fact, she gave a sly grin, and before Y/N could answer the question for the both of them, Mizu responded.

“Sure we are. Actually- Im the boyfriend that is being referred to…” The girl widened her eyes, as if not believing what she was hearing. Actually, Y/N was quite sure that a majority of the class who had not left were now focusing on their conversation after hearing Mizu publicly announce her affiliation with Y/N. Not only her affiliation- BUT THAT THEY WERE DATING?! “Not that that should matter to anyone else, especially not garbage like you.” A few gasps emerged from the students. No one dared to defend the girl against Mizu. And in a swift fashion, Mizu reached an arm around Y/N’s waist and brought her closer. “And I can assure you, that whatever rumors are flying around are false-”

Before anyone could argue against Mizu, Mizu was practically dragging Y/N away.

‘M-mizu?!” Y/N whispered as they both walked away, Mizu’s hand pressed on her back feeling heavier and more prominent than it probably was. This would surely gain the attention of not only the students in her class but now the upper class, now that Mizu was involved.

The only response that Y/N received was a barely an explanation: “If they want something to talk about, we’ll both give them something to talk about.”

————-

Hello reader, this was honestly a hot mess- and definetly not grammatically correct. Still, hope I got the general idea of this across!

[fyeahghosttrick]

Ghost Swap announcements! imaaayhavewrittenthedatewrong + how to post + retroactive fills

Almost there, almost there! June 12th, our posting day, is almost upon us. Which brings me to my first point... out of all the possible growing pains of Gswap's new format, this one I was not expecting... the thing is... the anniversary... the anniversary for Ghost Trick, the date chosen especially to release Ghost Trick, Ghost Trick's anniversary. That anniversary? Is on the 19th. So that was a super fun typo to go unnoticed for two months! I am not going to change dates two days out, especially with no means to contact all participants, which means:

A FULL WEEK OF PARTYING.

Nothing like it, as someone would have it! The event will still open on the 12th, but all Ghost Swap works posted throughout the week, until June 19th, will be fully part of the initiative and will be included in the final masterlist. This might even come in handy for last-minute finishing touches, as well as for posting more than three things (as Tumblr tends to show three posts per person per day in a tag).

Now onto regular modly business:

HOW TO POST.

We're opening the floodgates on June 12th and, as always, the official ruling on what constitutes "June 12th" is as lax as can be. Follow the time zone of your heart. Whenever it’s June 12th somewhere in the world.

Here’s the deal:

   Post your  work (or works, if you made extra treats!) AT ANY POINT OF THE WEEK THAT GOES FROM JUNE 12TH TO JUNE 19TH, any time zone.

   You are free to crosspost  your work anywhere or even post somewhere else (for example, fic on  AO3, fanart on deviantArt) and have your Tumblr post be a link to it. All I need is the  existence of a post on Tumblr and no additional logins required in order  to access the work (for example, no links to friend-locked dreamwidth posts, no archive-locked AO3 fics)

   Tag the prompter if the prompt you picked was signed, #ghost trick and #ghost swap in addition to whatever else you tag your stuff with (this is the important one so people can find your work)

   @ your prompter if applicable and maybe acknowledge the exchange in the work’s  description. Anything conveying the general sentiment of “made for  @prompter for @fyeahghosttrick‘s Ghost Swap exchange” would be nice. If you want to copypaste or summarize the prompt, that’s cool too.

   FOR THE PROLIFIC TREATERS: please don’t let Tumblr eat your work. Any tag only shows 3 of your posts per day; when you post another one, the oldest one won’t be featured anymore. If you plan to post more than 3 works, I recommend to spread out your posts throughout the week. If you don’t want to do that, give me a shout so I’ll know to look through your blog for FYGT’s closing ceremonies

It  should go without saying, but please show appreciation for your gift -  and for any other work that catches your eye! Likes, reblogs, comments,  if you like a work make yourself be heard!

And a final surprise:

THE RETROACTIVE FILLS LIST.

Scrolling our wonderful prompts, did you perchance see something so up your alley that you already drew it in 2013? The same exact idea that ate up your groupchat in early 2021? Odds are that the person who requested that doesn't know that in some odd recesses of the internet there's already a fanwork that gives life to their idea. And I think that they might want to know! So come self-rec! Reply to this post with the prompt you're referring to and a link to your work, and on June 19th I'll post all replies in a Retroactive Fills List to give them visibility!

[solar-tl-27]

OH HEY WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT I’M BACK

Yall never get regular posts from me omg you guys I’M SO SORRYYYY

but but but but but ya’ll wont believe it

I have been… DOING ART?! youuuuu heard that right folks i me MYSELF AM d-doing art.

Ok soooo i got a few updates

Life is still incredibly hectic i swear i feel like one of those fanfic writers tha5 post like

Hey sorry it took 8 years i was in a coma! But thankfully that’s not… entirely the case?

I’m on the list for an appointment to see if i have adhd because hearing my friends who are diagnosed and medicated talk about literally MY EXACT ISSUES AND IT HELPING i was like… damm maybe it is the good ol case of audhd … so hopefully hopefully i can get something to help with that!

Uhhh in other news I’m saving for a laptop so i can get into video editing and idk make some animation memes and animatics!

But ofcourse

Ofcourse

I promised art let’s not dwindle any more!

First of all we have some art i did for my story quest for the moon (i did blur out a bit just cuz well idk my audience that well so i’ll be bluring it even though it takes away a bit of context)

Then another piece for that series and then… omg.. no way is that?! Is it?!

Hehe surprise let’s get into the first art!

3 GOT ANOTHER REDESIGN AND MIGUELS’S FIRST FULL ART

Welcome welcome to my sweet sweet sweet baby angel boy Three that’s right he’s been on my mind again so i drew him… kinda like a splash art? If he was in a gacha game very cute very demure (if that meme’s old already… no it’s not)

And then we have THE VILLAIN of quest for the moon

Miguel also our main character ash in the corner hiiii ash

Miguel is basically like the mentor that’s secretly just try to steal your powers type he’s very much an opportunist and i love to draw him and loooove to hate him! This piece is basically foreshadowing extravaganza that will… eventually be clear i swear I promise I PROMISE but for now enjoy the piece it took sooo long

Next art!

This is still a work in progress it’s not done yet but I’m incredibly proud of it soooooo I’m showing it anyway and then we’ll get into the surprise

MEET MY SON ALEXANDER

ohhh my goodness after being in art block for so long it feels so nice to just get a solid redes out i’m soooo happy with how he’s turning out AA that’s my son MY BOY one of my oldest oc’s from so so so so long ago and fun fact i drew both pieces with the exact same brush heheheh the headshot next to him is his brother phoenix

Ok NOW FOR THE SURPRISE

Guess what! That’s right i have actually ACTUALLY started finding my way into the new project reignited

That’s right we got a MAIN CAST now

Now obviously some are.. easy to find the original inspiration for but they won’t be that similar to the redesigns they used to be no no no

Welcome the new crew of project reignited!

Muse, Plume, Thea, Orianne & caelusss

Muse is the main character a human boy who is just trying his best who gets swooped up into helping a dragon girl save her kingdom and the magical dimension while also fighting to preserve his home town!

Plume a dragon girl (plume, bloom you get the gist) who somehow ended up on earth is now tasked to find help to save her people and mother while also discovering the beauty of earth

Thea the daughter of an urban development company ceo and the love interest of muse (did i get myself this invested into a ship that i made it canon here… yes.) she’s a frail girl but is forced to step in as her fathers ideas turn from helpful to greedy and destructive

Orianne Thea and Muse’s friend and the more motherly of the group but faced with difficult circumstances and changes in her life can cause her to lash out as her life is completely steered of its course by magic and her dad remarrying.

Caelus! Muse’s closest friend a pretty chill guy that works at an icecream parlour during the week and helps his family with their market food stand in the weekend, he really wants to be a culinary chef but doesn’t know if he can truly achieve his goals in his hometown.

That’s the gang this will from now on be an original concept and no longer a winx rewrite yes winx will be an inspiration for this work but i do not intend to go the fairy route nor make the world building as big as i had made it in my rewrite… what you will see is me taking my rewritten work as a basis for this story considering i have basically rewritten my version of domino, zenith and solaria from scratch sooooo SWEET BABY BOY CRYOS MY BABY will be making a return later on in this story he’s mine he’s my son my boy i can do with his character whatever i pleaseeee ok ty

That’s the update that’s the post thank you all for enjoying my content and my terrible upload schedule life had beeeeeen hectic ty ty hope ya’ll stay for more and if this was your first post of mine you saw…. Check out my other work pls and thank u

Oki

BYEEEEE

[shadebloopnik]

Finally for the first time tryin to draw this man

Just a lil doodle while in class.

Also had the sudden inspo bc of a lil thingy(AU? Would it still be considered AU if i dont plan to expand?). Ik Angel!Alastor AUs are a thing, at least i think so, so i decided to try it out a lil bit.

So tadaaa, Angelic Alastor. I cannot draw wings to save my life, so bear with me. I based the eye shapes and over all facial expressions on how i drew the first Alastor doodle, except its a teeny bit less sharp with less bolder lines. I shaped his hair somewhat the same for the top part, except a bit slicked back with a more windswept look. I imagine his hair would be white with red tips, with an overall white, and red color scheme, with a black collar standing out. He'd have the same red eyess, tho with whites surrounding it.

I gave him two wings, to maybe signify that he is above most angels, though below those such as the Seraphims and Archangels, at least in rank. I was a bit conflicted what to make his cane like(yea ofc im giving him a cane im not a monster). Originally i wanted to copy what his lil antlers looked like, as to be a simple staff, but ended up with that wider antler design. Idk.

Angelic Alastor wouldn't really be much different than Demon Alastor, except for the fact that he's better at hiding it all, at least he wants to. He's quite powerful amongst other angels, moreso than seraphims despite being of lower rank. Similarly to how he can melt in the shadows, as an angel, he can dissolve into the light. Haven't really cemented what exact type of angel he is, though i'd imagine he's still a bit of a recluse, preferring to go off alone to do as he wishes.

Angelic Alastor is every bit as mischievous as his demonic counterpart. He lives for the entertainment, and his humor's quite biting for a being of light. He's sharp and charming and witty, and quite rebellious as well. He's curious about different possibilities, and has never quite felt like he belonged among his "perfect" angelic peers. He knows he's imperfect, and that all those ideas would be considered blasphemous. So he remains quiet, under the radar even with his strength; all to escape the possibility of being persecuted.

Its what draws him to the Morningstar. Lucifer, the powerful archangel with a heart of gold and a mind filled with wonder. (Also to anyone who's seen my blog, yes ofc im inserting radioapple im weak) Despite their gap in rank, Lucifer never treated him any differently, and Alastor found himself treating the shorter angel as an equal. Their friendship was a bit odd perhaps for the others, considering how they'd often greet each other with playful jabs and teasing remarks, all quite informal and rather unruly. He was drawn to Lucifer's ideas, as was Luci to him, both relishing in the fact that they weren't alone, despite being different.

Lucifer had always been the louder dreamer. Though Alastor often agreed with his ideas, and sometimes egged him on, Al knew the risks and knew when to pull back. He was cautious where Lucifer took risks.

And y'all already know its Radioapple but what if we add Lilith to the mix-

Like imagine, Lucifer coming back to Alastor and gushing about the first woman, the taller man amused at his friend's lovesick expressions. Imagine him being acquainted with Lilith, and charmed as well by passion and hopes for change. He's weak for dreamers okay-

Like imagine him helping the two hide their relationship, being the most cautious of the 3. Imagine his heartbreak when the two gets sent to hell. Imagine Lilith and Lucifer holding him, stopping him from falling with them, because he cant do this without them please-

This may have gotten away from me a bit

Anyway, there's also a teeny doodle of biblically accurate Angelic Alastor(idk ehat to call them, but those forms Sera and Em have when they go 👁👁👁👁)

Idk if i'll ever do anytjing with this. I have a whole fic playing in my head but its very long with a whole lot of plot and idk if im strong enough-

[nyanwko]

my @thekillpetition-if MCs!! I'll do a full piece one day trust 💔 today I give you sum quick sketches

Solon Onai - The Perfect Prosecutor

(According to Luddy)

It's you, my favourite (and only) boss!!

About - Pronouns : He/Him. A dedicated prosecutor, he never lets any case overtake his moral integrity or distort his emotions. The only one he acknowledges as a rival is Sam, everyone else is irrelevant in his eyes- (asides from me of course!!)

Skills - Intuition, I mean he's borderline psychic,guesses are always accurate . In his past life he was definitely a detective (akechi who?)

Personality - Whilst ruthless in the courtroom, he's exceedingly gentle in the public sphere, described by many fans as the ideal man! (go you boss!). Polite and refined, he always reassures his clients. One thing for sure though is that he's terrifying when he smiles and he hates the media.

Brief Background - Comes from a low income background, really worked his way up to the top.

Dirt - Don't tell him I wrote this but, he has a soft spot for a certain detective- they make a pretty interesting pair...

Appearance - Average height, black hair, onyx eyes.

(Fun) Facts!!-

Has 30 suits and ties in the exact same colour- who needs that much?

Has a secret sweet tooth

Used to be against the Kill Petition, I wonder what changed?

has the sweetest coffee order

Luddy got him into kdramas (favourite is taxi driver)

Adil Absaar - The Playful Prosecutor

(According to Luddy)

It's you, my favourite (and only) boss!!

About - Pronouns : They/Them. A highly competitive prosecutor, they enjoy riling up their opponents and watching them fluster.

Skills - Charisma, it doesn't matter who- if the boss wants to befriend someone, they will. Their ability to draw someone in is almost scary at times.

Personality - Perhaps not the conventional image of a prosecutor, Adil is arrogant and sly- evading truthful answers unless in the courtroom. Those who they have gone against described them as "a little shit" and "condescending genius". It's difficult to hate Adil, considering how good they are at the job.

Brief Background - Disgustingly rich... Though they are the most interesting out of their siblings.

Dirt - Huh? Are my eyes deceiving me or does Adil actually enjoy flirting with Sam?

Appearance - Tall, blonde and gorgeous (if ykyk).

(Fun) Facts -

An antagonist in a different life, nobody enjoys crushing their opponent that much

Is based off that one lawyer on tiktok who's always dripped out

Very adamant on their skincare routine, once appeared in court with a face mask on (listen it was before they got into the big leagues of law)

Don’t trust them with a plant, within a week it’ll be dead

Randomly JoJo poses

little doodle dump

yes klavier and adil are twins.

hasn’t even met Morgan but already down bad smh…please ignore that I drew the wrong glasses for him augh

anyways I’m obsessed with your game bc I’m a sucker for crime/legal system 🙂‍↕️ can’t wait to see more

[foggieststars]

the way you wrote the sex scene was sooo realistic like. I think it's been about 8 years ago that I've read a sex scene so realistic in any book or fic (and ive read at least 10k words every day for 15 years of my life). Tbh many of my first tries at having sex happened in suuuch a similar fashion. And everything oscar thinks and feels I remember feeling in the exact same order. I'm truly in awe like wow. And also when I read your first summary of the plot before you wrote it, I thought seeing lando too nervous and coming early and ruining it would be hilarious, which is why I wanted to read the fic. But it's actually so....painful. and again, realistic. Like it has happened to me too and I get oscar so much with the "wdym ik it's embarrassing but also you want me so much u didn't even last a minute". And he's so embarrassed he leaves but doesn't consider how much he's hurting poor oscar :(((

--- besides the sex scene being so real it had me squirming and thinking back to my own experiences, I really like the shower scene too and how oscar keeps referencing charles again and again. Comparing herself a bit, with the boob size, with the ease she has in her body, with being more focused and sharp now with Max etc.

And the bad feminist line ughhh. How many times I've thought of that as someone is trying to make me come lol.

The vocabulary lando uses is so real too. The mate, innit, sweet, fit, etc

And I like how everything flows so well together because it's one scene. Like from her feeling angry after the race, to showering to lando coming to kissing to sex to showering & crying. When I write I often breakup my fic in so many different scenes that in the end seem flat and disconnected and idk why it's something that really stood up to me about chapter 2. Like the flow of everything is almost...relaxing? To the reader. The emotions change so much yet they do so in a way that makes perfect sense.

Anyways this is probably the worst most rambling anon I've ever left an author. I'll leave a proper comment on the story later xx lovely writing

please do not say this is a bad anon to send i am literally clutching it to my chest and cradling it like a baby!!!!!!!!!!! you are SO kind this ask has fully made me melt into a puddle...

i'm so so glad it resonated with you, i drew a lot from my own experience so it's lovely to hear that others feel the same way i do!!

also the oscar/charles stuff is really going to come out in the next chapter...

i'm so glad you enjoyed the flow!! i so get what you mean also when i write something with loads of scenes i struggle to make them feel connected (though i'm sure you do a wonderful job of it) so sometimes it feels very weird, and it can be nice to have a crack at one prolonged scene when it works! thank you SO MUCH I LOVE U <333

[trees-be-drawing]

I am back with the other moomin fic of interest!

This one is 43 chapters and I read all of it in a span of a week in November. And even stayed up to read it during a sleepover at a friend’s place.

It has some slice of life, has good banter between Joxter and Moominpapa, some cute corny romance, supportive Joxter being a good dad, and a hint of racism towards Mumriks as Snufkin deals with the changes to his body. It has some angsty moments too of course, due to the racism, but it’s pretty good.

I will warn you, the things I draw will be some small spoilers within the fic so..

SPOILERS AHEAD!!

I’ll be honest, I wish I drew more, but I was starting to feel burnt out. There was genuinely so many moments I wanted to draw but

1. I decided to draw it alongside the “Spirit in Moominvalley” fic and did not think about spacing nor how much I’d actually want to draw, so all the moments are pretty scattered and on one half of my page.

And 2. I really should find more time to actually practice drawing other moomin characters. Joxter was a pain to draw for me which was surprising but also I realized because of how little reference there is of him, with the limited amount of drawings, content and such surrounding him, I wasn’t actually sure how I wanted to interpret him. All I knew though was I wanted him to be more cat-looking than his son.

He ended up looking pretty ugly despite drawing in that same exact place maybe… 6 times or more? Idk, I just genuinely don’t like how I drew Joxter here and gave up cuz my page was starting to fray in that specific area.

Taking in how Snufkin was described, I did draw the difference between when he first left, and when he comes back, which… did make me feel awkward drawing cuz I’m not used to seeing Snufkin showing arm or leg and I feel I made him look too baby… but besides that, I also drew the spare outfit described. I actually really like him in suspenders, he’s so dapper 🤭

I also hope I got the tail right. The fic itself described much of how the characters looked pretty well so I’m glad and hope I captured it okay.

I couldn’t figure out how his new coat should look though, but I imagined Moominmama took his old coat, and simply did invisible stitches to expand the old coat with spare fabric, and I tried visualising it in the bottom left corner.

You can also see me debate how the paws should look. I wasn’t sure whether to give him cat paws or “cat paws” like… those gloved cat paws some people have (I actually have some myself, I’ll confess. I used them as reference).

I also didn’t like how I drew the top right, with this one moment where Snufkin’s instincts kicked in and proceeded to bite a bunny down. I don’t have the best reference for that so I just did my best.

I really loved the baby Snufkin I drew though. He genuinely looks so cute!! Actually, drawing Snufkin in general made me pretty happy. I loved drawing his hair specifically though.

You can see this one tiny drawing I did with him and Little My, and that’s a moment near the end of the fic. I actually wanted it to be bigger cuz it was a pretty important sibling moment to me, but I was thinking of filling the space in between the stuff I drew and hate drawing background, so that’s why it’s pretty tiny.

I did plan on drawing some angsty moments but… honestly, I didn’t feel like drawing other characters at that moment. I probably will once I actually practice drawing everyone, but for now, I hope you like what I did. It’s not my best work but I did enjoy it. Maybe I’ll make another page just for the angsty bits someday, but today is not that day.

Sorry it took so long to post though. You can see from how faded the page is that I’ve been stalling on it for a while cuz I couldn’t decide what moments I wanted to draw and fill the space.

[sylenth-l]

I'm sure someone has asked already but there's no harm in asking this question again, I was wondering how do you plot out your drawings? Like your proportions and stuff? Because I have never been able to get proportions done very easily, the head is always too small for the shoulders, arms aren't the right length, torso is too long/short, ect ect. Do you have any advice to help with this? Thank you :) 💜

Hey! Okay, I'll start with saying that I'm not a qualified art teacher and everything I say are just things I've noticed over the years of drawing myself and thus can only share things that worked for me personally ✌️✨

I use head to measure the height of everything and make the width whatever I feel looks good 😅 The classic art anatomy teaches us that perfect human's height is 8 heads and legs take exactly half of it. I rarely stick to that model tbh, I prefer to draw in an even more stylized way, so I usually make legs a bit longer (making it 8.5 or even 9+ heads total) and head just a biiit bigger.  Still, I started from classics and I believe it's much easier to learn it first, so I drew the 8 heads model for a better demonstration:

I've developed a little checklist of the most important proportions; usually if those conditions are met, the whole figure looks convincing enough to me.

Head + torso is 4 heads;

Elbows and waist are relatively on the same line;

Open palm is the same length as the face (head minus hairline);

Arm length ends a bit higher than half of the hip;

Knees are located at the middle of legs length minus feet.

Okay, it looks really easy for a frontal view of a standing still figure, but what about more complicated poses? My suggestion is to measure the stick figure inside the body (not forgetting about the perspective distortion though). Take the "spine" and the least bent leg to check everything, then make sure both legs are the same length.

Note that these measurements don't need to be exact as if made with a ruler! We aren't doing blueprints here. If you don't trust your eye, then try training it, whenever you have a free minute: just draw a long line and try to divide it into equal parts. Or draw a long line with many short lines of the same length; kinda like a dashline, but with no gaps.

Also, I think it's important to remember that measurements and proportions are cool, useful and make your life a lot easier, but often you may need to bend them for the final drawing to look good. And obviously, people come in many shapes and heights, so I suggest taking these classical measurements as a cheatsheet to draw a good standard stick figure, which you can shape into whatever you want later. The 8 heads canon isn't realistic anyway, it originated in Ancient Egypt and Greece and was used for art needs specifically (mainly sculpture iirc). It represents an idealized view of a human figure already, so no harm in changing it a bit further I think!

 Art doesn't really need to be anatomically correct, it just has to look like it is.