#even if its only like $14 extra for the hour I work its worth it

[vitiateoriginator]

My datemate was sick recently (only had it for 2 days). I knew I'd catch his cold regardless, so I kissed him, despite it increasing the odds of illness. I am a sick, empty headed frog, who is too full if love

[0cta9on]

Stuck With You

length: +2k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: My first commission!! Thank you to f_r_e_s_h for purchasing a commission, I appreciate it a lot :) If you're interested in buying a commission from me, head on over to my ko-fi page!!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

 A light breeze brushes past you, relieving you of your exhaustion for a brief moment as you watch the sun set below the city of Paris from the balcony of your hotel room. The 14-hour flight from Korea was hell, but the view alone made it all worth it. It has always been part of your bucket list to visit Paris one day, it’s a shame that you won’t be able to actually experience any of it though. With the International Summit starting tomorrow, you need to be extra focused on your work as a diplomat representing your country.

A cafe sits across the street from your hotel, beckoning you with its warm and welcoming light. You watch as the people inside talk and laugh about things you can only assume, enjoying one another’s company on this chilly winter day. A nice cup of coffee sounds great right now, but you have to be ready for tomorrow. But… It’s not tomorrow yet. The night is still young, giving you a couple hours to check out the cafe and maybe even explore the city for a little bit. You did all the extra work you needed to do on the plane, so there’s no reason for you to stay in your hotel room. After the summit is over, you’ll be on a flight straight back to Korea, and when are you ever gonna have the time to come back to Paris again? Besides, you’ve been working too hard for far too long, you deserve to have a small break.

Without hesitation, you grab your coat and exit your room, beelining it straight towards the elevators as you mentally practice the little French that you learned before the trip. With a resounding ding, the elevator doors open and you walk inside, only a couple floors standing between you and the City of Light.

The elevator shifts to a stop on one of the floors, opening to reveal a girl around your age wearing a mask and a cap pulled low over her eyes. Even with the majority of her face covered, you could feel the aura of elegance and beauty surrounding her. Her outfit isn’t anything crazy on the surface - a hoodie layered with a leather jacket and a clean pair of jeans - yet something about the way she wears it is so attractive. You wouldn’t be surprised if you find out that she’s a model for Paris Fashion Week, which coincidentally occurs at the same time as the summit.

“Hello,” you greet as she steps into the elevator. She returns your greeting with a simple nod, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter. You didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but you imagine this is how it would feel like.

The elevator descends in silence, save for its mechanical rumble. Due to the nature of your job, you meet a lot of important people from around the world, so your conversational skills have naturally improved over the years. However, you suddenly find yourself tongue-tied around this random girl, not even a simple “How are you?” can escape your lips. All you can do is sneak little glances at her, but now you just feel creepy. Oh well, it’s not like you’re here to meet women or anything of that sort. You just want to feel some freedom for a little bit.

Suddenly, you nearly fall to the ground as the elevator begins to jerk violently. A hauntingly loud creaking noise can be heard from outside as the elevator abruptly stops its descent. The girl trips forward into your chest, and you instinctively catch her, holding on until the elevator eventually stops swaying.

Both of you share a huge sigh of relief. Even if the elevator stopped working, at least you're not plummeting to your doom.

“T-thank you,” the girl says, her voice trembling slightly. You meet her eyes for the first time, suddenly greeted by the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They’re invigorating like the strongest shot of espresso, sweet like the creamiest hazelnut chocolate, and warming like the first cup of hot cocoa in the winter. You could spend hours, no, years just looking into her eyes, getting lost in every flicker of her irises and every flutter of her lashes.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry,” you stutter nervously, finally letting her go. You turn away from her, hoping she doesn’t notice the deep red in your cheeks.

She starts pushing buttons at random, but none of them seem to work, not even the one to call the firefighters. A wave of dread washes over the both of you at the realization that you have no idea how long it’ll take to get out of this metal coffin. Maybe an hour at best, maybe never at worst. With nothing else you can possibly do, you resign yourself to the ground, resting your back against the wall. This is what you get for trying to live a little - you get trapped in a box, forced to think about the consequences of your actions. All because you wanted a cup of coffee.

The girl sits across from you, tossing her hat and mask off in defeat, ruffling her silky black hair with her fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat - she is absolutely gorgeous. You swear you’ve seen her face before, maybe she’s a model for a high-fashion brand or the daughter of a rich CEO who ends up getting in the news for trivial matters. Either way, you can’t help but stare at her, slack-jawed in awe.

“Um, did you want an autograph or something?” She asks, her eyebrows raised in judgment.

You pick your jaw up off the ground, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “N-no, sorry, you just look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

She chuckles lightly at your expression. “No, I don’t think we have. I’m Minji.” She reaches her hand out towards you in a friendly handshake, which you accept with a smile.

“I’m Eric. It’s nice to meet you, Minji.” The two of you share a laugh despite the unconventional circumstances. “Weird question, are you Korean?”

“Wah, that’s a good guess. How’d you know?” Minji tilts her head like a curious puppy, causing your heart rate to skyrocket. You can’t fathom how someone can be this cool, cute, and pretty all at the same time.

“Your name,” you explain. “I live in Korea for work, so I’ve gotten used to hearing Korean names.”

“Really? What do you do for work?” 

“I work at the embassy in South Korea representing my country. I’m actually in Paris for the International Summit this week.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool!” Minji’s eyes light up with wonder, her smile making you forget about the dire situation you’re in.

“Hehe, thanks! What about you, what do you do for work?”

“I, um…” She hesitates, lost in thought. “I’m here for Paris Fashion Week.”

“That makes sense, you’re very beautiful,” you suddenly blurt out. Your eyes grow wide with shock at your own words. “I-I mean, uh-”

“No, it’s okay. That’s very sweet.” A light pink hue graces her cheeks as she smirks at you. “So, is this your first time in Paris?”

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she didn’t take your compliment weirdly. “Yeah, it’s my first time. I was gonna go out and see the city for a bit since I’ll be swamped with work for the next couple of days, but now I’m… here.”

She nods in understanding. “That’s what I was doing too. It’s difficult to find a moment to myself because of my job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a ton of fun, but sometimes I feel like a robot following orders, not really being able to live.”

The space between you falls silent in contemplation. You know that feeling all too well. You love that you’re able to help thousands of people every day by being a voice for the people who need it, but work can often get in the way of what you want to do. When was the last time you spent time with your family? Or sat down with a good book? Or went on a date? When was the last time you were able to breathe?

“If you weren’t stuck in here right now, what would you be doing?” You ask in hopes that it will lift the mood.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Probably walk around and take pictures of all the pretty lights. Maybe get some ice cream if there are any shops open.”

Your ears perk up. “Ice cream? In the winter?”

Minji puts her arms up in defense. “Before you go judging me, just try it for yourself first, alright?”

“No, I like it too!” You exclaim, surprised that you found someone that thinks like you. “I don’t like waiting until summer just to eat ice cream. It tastes better during winter anyways.”

“Oh my god!” Minji jumps up in excitement. “Finally, someone who gets it! All my friends called me weird for eating ice cream when it’s cold outside!”

Enthused by her energy, you stand up to meet her. “They just don’t understand that it doesn’t melt as quickly so you get to enjoy it for longer.”

“Right?!”

You suddenly find yourself inches away from her face, staring into her big, round eyes. The subtle heat of her breath brushes against your cheeks, warming your entire body. You would gladly spend forever stuck in this moment with her, watching the reflection of the universe in her eyes.

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Minji pulls away, leaving you breathless. You quickly change the subject before the air between you gets too awkward to the point of no return.

“So… Paris Fashion Week. How’d you get involved with that?”

Much to your relief, Minji eases up, leaning against the wall as she turns to you. “I was invited by Chanel to come and watch their show, and I’ve always loved fashion so there was no way I was going to decline the invitation.”

“Oh, you’re watching the show? I assumed that you were modeling for them,” you say.

She chuckles to herself, blushing slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t break the elevator on purpose just so you could flirt with me?”

“N-no, I didn’t, I swear!” You stutter, flustered. Minji cackles like a hyena at your expression, causing you to keel over in laughter yourself from the insane sound coming out of her mouth. The sound of joyous laughter from two strangers fills the small elevator, unsure of how much time has passed or if you’re ever going to get out of there. You wonder what would’ve happened if the elevator worked normally. Would you be here talking like this? Or would the two of you go about your night without a single word shared between each other? Sure, seeing the streets of Paris would have been great, but would it have been as great as this?

Both of you find yourselves lying side by side, staring up at the bright fluorescent light, your stomachs aching from laughter. Despite it being your first meeting, you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her your whole life. Maybe it’s the same way survivors of a big tragedy bond through shared trauma or something like that.

“Do you really not know who I am?” Minji asks after a long silence. You rack your brain for any possible memories of ever seeing her, but only a faint silhouette appears in your mind.

“Sorry, I really don’t,” you answer. “Oh god, don’t tell me we’re old classmates or something. I would feel terrible if we used to be friends and I didn’t know.”

Her laugh tickles your ear like spring grass brushing against your legs. “No, it’s not like that. Honestly, it feels kinda nice that you don’t know anything about me. No expectations, no questions, no nothing. You just treat me like…. a regular human being,” she sighs.

“Now I’m kinda scared to ask who you are,” you quip, catching a smile from her. “Maybe I don’t have it as bad as you, but I can relate to you somewhat. There’s a lot of people depending on me to make the right decisions and if I miss up even a little bit, so many people get affected by it. If I get recognized in the streets, sometimes they’ll outright tell me what to do, talking about how their families would suffer because of me or outright threatening me to do what they want. It feels like I’m constantly walking on a tightrope being held by two sides that hate each other. No matter what I do, someone is always unhappy.”

Minji meets your eyes in mutual understanding. “That sounds really tough. I’m sorry, Eric.”

Such a simple gesture, yet one that you desperately needed. Talking to her feels like a massive weight is being lifted off of you. The amount of silent suffering you’ve had to endure over the years is finally being unloaded without judgment. With how many people’s lives you affect every day, you never truly realized just how lonely you feel. Thanks to Minji, you feel a little less alone.

“So, what is that you do?” You ask to lift up the mood. “I’ve been dying to know. I’m assuming you’re a celebrity of some kind?”

She smirks at you. “Have you ever heard of New Jeans?”

And then it clicks. You’ve seen her face plastered everywhere in Korea, billboards, ads, commercials, less than 24 hours ago you walked past her face in the airport right before you left. While you aren’t the biggest Kpop fan in the world, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have Hype Boy in your playlist for a solid month.

“Ah, so that’s why you looked so familiar. I’m glad you’re not a classmate I forgot about,” you joke.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we were friends in another lifetime. You’re very easy to talk to.” Minji meets your eyes, casting that warm smile that makes you feel at ease. You forget that you’re in this tiny box with no way out but patience. You forget that in less than 24 hours, you’ll be surrounded by the most important figures in the world, attending a conference that can impact billions of people across the globe. You forget about your feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and stress that you’ve been feeling recently. As you look into Minji’s eyes, all you can think about is her. Her kindness. Her radiance. Her laugh. Just her.

The elevator begins to shake around you, rumbling to life. Your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but all you feel is the gradual descent of the elevator before it lands on the first floor. You and Minji stand up, not a word exchanged between the two of you. Is this… it? Is it over? Are you just supposed to go your separate ways now?

The doors open to reveal the owner of the hotel on the other side, relief and guilt painted on his sweaty face. “I-I am terribly sorry about the elevator, are you two alright?” He asks.

As you reassure him of your safety, you notice Minji quickly slipping past, donning her mask and hat. You decline the owner’s offer of a free spa day and chase after her.

Minji is an idol. Intimidatingly gorgeous, held to an impossibly high standard that she somehow manages to exceed at every turn. Despite that, she’s also kind, humorous, and down to Earth, nothing like many of the celebrities you’ve seen on social media. Even in your brief meeting, she understood you. She wanted to understand you. You can visit Paris again sometime in the future. But Minji? You’ll never meet a person like her again.

You push through the doors, hit by the frigid winter air as a gentle dusting of snow falls upon Paris. Minji stands at a cross walk, her silhouette covered by unmistakable, and you quickly catch up to her. “H-hey, hi, um…” The words get caught in your throat as nervousness overwhelms you. Can you really do this? Would you be able to make this work with your busy schedules? Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.

“Would you want to get a cof-”

“Yes,” Minji interrupts you, her voice lilting with enthusiasm. “I would love to have coffee. With you.” The snowfall catches in her eyes, glimmering with hope and excitement.

All the nerves you felt moments ago completely wash away, replaced by disbelief and an indescribable happiness in your heart. Minji intertwines her fingers with yours, warming your body against the cold as the two of you cross the street towards the cafe and the rest of your lives.

[4awny]

Sp Study Headcanons that literally nobody somebody asked for:

Kenny:-

actually listens and pays attention in class

but literally cannot study at all if cartman is there

would rather race cars and start fires than study

easily distracted

is kind of 🤷🏼‍♂️ whatever when its exam day

legs spread as far out from the desk as possible

likes to watch other people stress out from the back row

grade? B. people under estimate him

Kyle:-

disgustingly prepared

gets stressed out a lot tho

like when people won't shut up

therefore prefers to study alone

the closer he is to the final exam > the more moody he gets

permanent 😠 face

blames cartman for distracting him

i mean yeah. he does that a lot tbf

is up all night studying despite knowing sleep is just as important

fear of failure maybe?

OK I could go on here

grade? A. predictable. the hard work paid off

Stan:-

doubts himself the whole time

king of procrastination

not completely his fault, always busy doing shit for ppl

thinks he's totally prepared

opens up the first page of the exam paper

immediately forgets everything he ever knew

🤯 lost af

oh wait he does know something

comes out feeling like he let himself down

grade? C. all gd my guy

Cartman:-

this kid will not acknowledge an exam until the day before

then panics like hell

and kyle told him so too

looks over to each friend as if to say HELP ME when everybody opens their paper

obviously no one helps him lol

like? man should have listened

cannot concentrate, thoughts racing, over thinking

leads to inner meltdown

struggles to submit anything worth a pass due to the stress

acts like it was the easiest exam of his life

OK enough lore

grade D. just about.

Butters:-

surprisingly good with numbers

brings a pencil sharpener into the exam hall

and like 4 extra pencils too

is pretty confident

real cocky too. smug is the word

bc he the only mf to actually enjoy exams

looks over at cartman with a 👍🏻

gets a 🖕🏼 in return

grade B+. kid is no dumbass

Craig:-

should probably try harder

doesn't even care about grades

kinda does actually

"let's just get this over with" as he rolls up to the exam hall with his hands in his pockets

😒

pretty average student

writes 'fuck knows' for questions he doesn't know

having good common sense helped him massively

grade? B. nobody knows how he managed it either. mystery

Tweek:-

a lot of pencil tapping

relies on a lot of caffeine

...obviously

sweaty palms

forever looking around at other people

reads the question 10 times

then 10 more times

still doesn't understand so writes nothing.

goes back to the 1st question halfway through

adds ???? next to his answers

doctors handwriting. barely readable.

grade? it's a D. rip

Clyde:-

"test? what test?"

moderately studies...

for the wrong exam

writes notes on his hand before the final

chews gum throughout

It annoys tweek, who can hear it from 14 seats back

always the first to finish

because finishing first means he's better than everyone else

🤡

spends the next half hour doodling circles all over the desk

only cares about the party afterwards anyways

grade?? big fat FAIL

Tolkien:-

actually knows his stuff, bc he covered literally everything

apart from that 1 subject, but he didn't care about it anyway

reads a lot of books, loves literature

sleeps well, eats well

helps his mind combat pre-exam stress

feels pretty confident on exam day, but hides it well

doesn't want his friends to think he's a nerd or anything...

Grade? A+++++. total NERD

[n4rut0runn3r]

Step-by-step Sweater

I finished knitting my first sweater! This has been a long adventure, and I wanted to share some highlights.

This sweater was originally crocheted and finished on November 14, 2021. 5 hours later, a historic flood had come and destroyed my childhood home with 6-10 feet of water inside my house and our shop. The water moved with tremendous speed and I had lost all of my possessions. The sweater was thrown into a wet garbage bag with the rest of the clothes we thought could be salvaged, as the flood was from the river overflowing through dairy farms and from an asbestos tainted mountain run off. It was washed by some volunteers who I am very grateful for. Unfortunately it never fit right afterwards.

I was going to throw it away, but on November 28, 2022 I decided I should at least salvage the yarn.

This yarn has been so many places. I worked on the crocheted version in Washington DC, and New York. It even accompanied me on the NY subway in all its grimy sticky glory. This yarn has gone on every road trip the past 2 years. This yarn came with me on a cruise and I made so many nice rich old lady friends. I even got a nice handful of cough drops for showing a lady how to do the increase I was working on.

I decided to learn how to knit because I read on a forum that knit garments use less yarn and are less heavy, and that was my original complaint with the first one, was that it was too heavy.

I frogged and restarted so may times, questioned my ability to count, but I kept going. Here are some things I learned:

-Knitting is very fun, I would just want to come home and sit in my chair and spend all day working on it

-Frogging knit is alot harder than frogging crochet

-The absolute hardest part of the whole thing was weaving in the ends. Why is it so much harder with knit!?!

-The nicer knitting needles are worth the investment. I knit alot faster with cooperative needles and cables. The bamboo ones also don't squeak like the metal ones

-I learned how to hold yarn tension in my right hand! I'm so used to holding it in my left hand, that it took a solid 6 months of practice to get it! I still can't do it when I purl though.

This is how much yarn was left over. All the yarn I had to use came only from unraveling the crocheted sweater panels, all of my yarn had been lost otherwise, so I didn't have any extra skeins on hand at all. This is how much more yarn was used to crochet vs knit. That's why the first one was so heavy!

This is me washing and blocking the sweater, I laid down some towels to help keep my table from being soggy for days. I washed and rinsed with wool light delicate. All of the yarn had already been machine washed, but I just wanted to be gentle since this project took so long.

I'm glad to be done! I'm already starting a second one, and I'm being sure to document the whole process. I'm attempting some more techniques in my second sweater. The sweater was completed on December 22, 2023. Here are some final pictures of the sweater!

The pattern I used was amazing. I also followed along with the YouTube guide. I highly suggest this pattern/video if anyone wants to try knitting for the first time. Video link posted below.

[lessthanpure]

Making the Best of It Chapter 14

Fandom: Baseball RPF

Pairing: Pete Alonso/OFC, Pete Alonso/Jeff McNeil, Pete Alonso/Jeff McNeil/OFC

Summary: Sharing hobbies.

Notes: I decided to go for a bit of plot this time (shocking for me, but the 'plot' is debatable). I wanted to show their relationship a bit more.

Wordcount: 1,967

AO3 link

18+ only

The next time the boys have a road trip, Sloane scrolls her phone aimlessly for a day. She wants a new hobby. She pauses on one in her list. She’s always wanted a physical item to show for her art, and this could be a good way to do it without having to learn an entire new set of skills for a while. Cutting and glueing tiles she can do. Next paycheck, she decides. That also gives her enough time to do research, think of designs, and so forth.

It’s like the universe gives its blessing to her- her paycheck comes with an unexpected bonus commission from a project she’d been working on in a team. Her team leader informed all of them that the client tipped them for good work, and she spread the tip out among them. $150. More than enough for her new hobby.

She buys everything she thinks she needs, reminding herself not to go overboard. She doesn’t know if she likes the hobby yet. She prepares everything and starts, listening to atmospheric music through her headphones.  It’s an off day, so she doesn’t even have to watch a game and she has time.

Sloane had had a hard time deciding what to try first, but a medium wall piece seemed good. Most of the guides had suggested something flat, so she had gone to her local hardware store and picked up a piece of decently sized wood- sixteen by ten inches. She had an even harder time picking a design, but she figured personalizing something was a good start. So she picked her favorite animal- a badger- and had it above an S for her first name. 

Sloane has fun picking out the colors- shades of minty green for the decorations and a nice cream for the background and dark gray grout. She takes her time drawing it on the wood, then uses the nippers to cut a bowl’s worth of the tiles. She glues each piece down, humming serenely. She’s greatly enjoying this. 

Hours pass in a blink, and she has to force herself to stop for frequent water breaks and meals. She ends up having dreams about her new hobby and gets back into it early the next morning to leave time for the afternoon game. She gets half of it done before the game, then stops to watch her boys. They have a good game but end up losing in extras, so she sends a soothing message to them. ‘You’ll get them next time. You played great.’ 

By the time her boys are home, she’d finished the piece. She’d debated telling them, but she’s more excited than nervous. 

“I tried a new hobby out while you were gone,” she says over dinner at Jeff’s.

“Yeah,” Jeff asks. “What kind?”

“I always wanted something physical for my art, so I started mosaic.”

“That’s awesome,” Pete grins. “Did you finish a piece?”

“I did,” Sloane nods. She gets her phone out and clicks to the image. She hands it to Jeff, who slides closer to Pete so they can both see. 

“Wow,” Jeff murmurs. 

“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” Pete agrees. Jeff pinches the screen, zooming in, and whistles appreciatively. 

“That must have taken hours. It looks awesome,” Jeff looks up and smiles. 

“I haven’t hung it up yet, but I’m thinking it’ll go in my dining room.”

“Sick,” Pete nods. 

“I’m glad your landlord’s ok with you hanging things up,” Jeff says as he hands her phone back. 

“Me too. The building’s pretty good, as long as I patch everything before I leave,” she says. “I’ve had apartments where I wasn’t allowed to hang anything, but the price was too good to pass up. At least until I had enough savings to move to this place.”

They chat the rest of dinner, then Sloane and Pete clear up since Jeff had cooked. Pete flicks soap bubbles at her, and she giggles and ducks away. Jeff grins and scoops up a handful, slapping it on Pete’s head. It turns into a soap fight that leaves them all giggling and damp. They spend the night at Jeff’s using clothes they had stashed there. Sloane has the fleeting thought that she wished they could bring duffle bags over, but backpacks have to do. This is good. For now, she muses. She gets in bed in between her boys and they sleep.

Jeff and Sloane play Minecraft the next morning in the world they built together while Pete watches. “I found a cool design for a Nether portal,” Sloane says.

“Show me,” Jeff smiles. Sloane pulls it up on her phone and does. He whistles long and low. “Jesus.”

“I know, but it’s rad.” The image they’re looking at is a sword Nether portal soaring into the sky. “Wanna do it?”

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Well, we’re gonna need lots of obsidian. We can build the actual portal out of that, the rest in whatever we want. I was thinking warped planks.”

“I like those.”

“Me too. I’ll hop into the Nether, grab those, and you can go into our mine and get obsidian,” she offers.

“Sounds good.”

They gather resources and start to build, knowing that it’ll take a few sessions to complete. Their world is coming along nicely, though- Jeff had built a treehouse with a ladder coming down, and a mine nearby. Sloane had found a nearby cave she uses more often than the mine, but Jeff prefers controlled spelunking. Even so, he’d found an abandoned mineshaft before she did. They had cleared it out together and found an absolutely massive lake of lava. They’d been using that for smelting everything because they found so much. 

Sloane had also been exploring and found a cool mountain range half a map away, with floating parts and everything. They’d built a secondary home there and stocked it with everything they’d need. A village lies in between, and Sloane had cycled through librarians and gotten one with mending and one with protection IV (and one with curse of binding that she threw on a jack o’ lantern. Jeff had been a good sport about a goofy bet and had worn it for a session). 

Pete enjoys watching them play, but he knows that he’d get tremendously bored half an hour in. Watching them is better because he can go on his phone when they’re resource gathering, which they don’t mind. He had liked watching Sloane find a treasure bastion, amazed at how she’d killed the brutes and found most of them by sound and memorizing the layout. She’d been disappointed that she didn’t find something called ‘pigstep’ though, but hadn’t told Pete what exactly it is.

After a few hours, they close the game and have lunch. Then they say their goodbyes, kissing softly. “See you later,” Jeff smiles.

“See ya,” Pete says while Sloane smiles.

Pete and Sloane head out. 

Their next dinner is at Pete’s. “So what made you choose mosaic,” Jeff asks.

“I always wanted a physical piece for my art,” Sloane explains. “And instead of having to learn a really involved skill that would take years to see progress, like sculpture, I figured this would be a good balance. It’s a hobby I’ve had on my list for a while.”

“Your list,” Pete asks.

“Yeah, I tend to want to do every hobby under the sun,” she rolls her eyes at herself. “So I write them down in my phone,” she explains. “When I’m super bored, I sort through them to decide which one to try out. I have them in sections: ones I have time for, ones that can be in the future, and ones that can be useful.”

“Which ones are useful,” Jeff asks.

“Sewing,” she explains. 

“You sew,” Pete asks.

“Little projects here and there. I’m not practiced enough to make my own clothes, but I can make like, tote bags.”

“Cool,” Jeff smiles. 

“Once upon a time I wanted to sew, paint, and sell them, but I thought it through and did a complete list of what it’d cost, and it really wasn’t feasible at the time. Maybe in the future.”

“Your art is great,” Pete smiles. “I’m sure people would love to have it on something they use a lot.”

“You’re sweet,” Sloane smiles.

“I haven’t seen much of it, but the mosaic was super cool.”

“After dinner I can show you,” she promises. 

They finish eating and Jeff and Sloane clean up. They settle on the couch when they’re done, Sloane in the middle. She opens her phone to the gallery of her complete pieces and works-in-progress she’s proud of. Jeff hums and makes her pause at each one, admiring it. “They’re gorgeous,” he says.

“Thanks, hon,” she says, kissing his cheek. 

“That one’s new,” Pete says when he sees the next one. 

“Yeah, I’ve been experimenting with gouache,” she muses. There were some experiments that failed miserably, but this one she likes. A simple colored background with flowers spilling out of its borders. She’d done a few of them, with different flowers- small daisies, forget-me-nots, other flowers that spread low on the ground. They look through all her work. “That’s all, folks.”

Jeff chuckles. “They were great. Show me anytime,” he says.

“I’ll show you the good ones.”

“They’re all good,” he promises.

“There are some that need work, and that’s ok. That’s why I don’t show anyone my entire sketchbook- they’re private, a place to try things out without worrying if it’s instagram worthy,” she explains, leaning against the back of the couch. Jeff puts his arm around her shoulders. Sloane crosses her legs and Pete puts his hand on her knee. “I like having pieces that I’m not afraid to get messy with it. Not every piece I make will be good, and that’s a good thing. It means I’m growing and trying new things.”

“A great way to look at it,” Jeff says. 

“Do you do any art or anything like that,” Sloane asks.

Jeff pauses, rubbing his thumb on her shoulder. “Kind of. I play guitar.”

“Really,” Pete asks. “You never told me that.”

“Never came up. It’s just something I do at home. It relaxes me. Sometimes I write snippets of chords, sounds I like. No words,” he shrugs. 

“Well, when you’re comfortable,” Sloane says. “Feel free to show us.”

“Ok,” Jeff smiles, but he’s nervous.

“When you’re comfortable, babe,” Pete says.

Jeff relaxes. They’re ok with waiting. He knows that rationally, but they show him that a lot. 

“Can we do something creative together when we next get together,” Pete asks.

“Like what,” Jeff asks.

“I’ve seen like, dinner parties where people pick random prompts and paint, then switch canvases every like, half an hour or whatever.”

“Sounds fun,” Sloane smiles. “I can look up other stuff, too- there are a few things I’ve always wanted to do in a group. There’s this cool thing where you take a white pillar candle, light colored tea lights, and use the wax to ‘paint.’ It’s a really cool decorative and useful thing.”

“Those both sound like fun,” Jeff smiles. “I’ll look up some things, too. We can do a different thing every month or something.”

“That sounds amazing,” Pete says, leaning over Sloane’s head and kissing Jeff’s temple. 

“It’s good to get away from the digital world. Unplug,” Jeff says. “I think I’d like making something with my hands.”

“Who knows, we might have the next Picasso on our hands,” Sloane shoulders him playfully. 

“I doubt that,” Jeff ducks his head, bashful. “I just had an idea, though,” he says. “Writing. Like Pete said, every half hour we switch.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Sloane says, grinning. 

“Yeah, great idea,” Pete agrees.

[sethredia]

straight up i think period-induced anxiety is the worst. like i have gad so im already anxious constantly but it normally settles at a not-great-but-manageable background hum if that makes sense? but when im on my period that shit goes from like a casual 4/10 to a fucking 14/10 sometimes.

ill be already a lil spooked about x or y thing on a normal day but when im on my period? i cant fucking sleep because im thinking about it and my chest is getting tight and i can feel my heart rate kick up and i roll over and get on my phone to distract myself and yet i know im distracting myself so the distraction doesnt really work and on and on until its three am and i pass tf out

its more manageable when im at work, right, because theres Stuff To Do at work. there a Job Tasks and then Job Distractions which are, in their own way, a different form of job task to me. is it the same fanfic i opened the night before to read but couldnt get through because my stupid, chemical deficient, hormone-addled brain wont let me focus on it? yes. is it different now because im at work and work is an entirely different vibe so now i can get through that story (and maybe a few others depending on length)? also yes!

anxiety example: my boss texted me last night, or i guess now that its gone past midnight would it be the night before last?, and said (frankly very ominously? like even without the anxiety disorder it would be spooky methinks) “call me before you go in tomorrow” and i was like “oh shit oh fuck what did i do i dont think i did anything i mean i had a weird hiccup with counting the drawer out at the end of the shift because i was doing 18.50 in my head instead if 17.50 so i had an overhang of a dollar and so maybe me messing with the dollar while i was trying to figure out what happened showed up and looked weird on the cameras and she saw it and she wants to talk to me about it???” and so that morning i did all my get-ready things and went back into my room, grabbed one of my stuffies for emotional support in the same way i do to make dentist appoints and shit, and bravely called my boss

and then. she said she just wanted to check on if it would be safe to have us open the store because of the snow that night. she lives in the next town over where it snowed a lot (7.5 inches. she stuck a ruler in it and sent me a picture later lol) and wanted to check on road conditions and just a general vibe on it f whether people would be out and about (it snowed in my town 3 inches. if im being generous. most of it melted off before noon. according to my boss, it continued to try and snow where she was on and off all day. what a wild difference like ten miles does to the weather!).

i got so so so scared over like a dollar worth of figured out before i left the building confusion that my boss wanting to just. be a good person. was like nowhere in my thought process.

related but only slightly: i got freaked tf out over one singular dollar and had that shit figured out before i went home for the day, whereas my stupid fucking coworker who is like technically my manager (i think if i had to put a title on her it would be like assistant manager but idk she doesnt have a title on our work schedule but shes above all the team lead kids but i also am that but i know technically shes my boss and she makes ~a dollar/hour more~ than i do so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) ALWAYS fucks up the drawers somehow. like our manager wants the end count on the drawer to be between $149.50-150.50. Why there is dont know but thats how it goes right? WRONG. every single time i come in and have to open a drawer after this lunatic has closed the night before, the drawers are over $150.50. it is not hard to stick another dollar into your bundle. drop the extra dollar. the drawer should not be at $150.75. drop the dollar. put it at $149.75 please god. this happened today on both drawers (small store; we only have two registers and only have shift overlaps on weekends and evenings so it works).

what Also happened today was that we have little paper slips that go into the drawers so you know what amount theyre supposed to be tallying out to when you count them next to know if everything is good or not. the paper said $150.65. i counted that fucker like six times, did the math on two different calculators three times to make sure it wasn’t me mis-hitting a decimal or something, and discovered it was actually at $155.65. five whole dollars. like im sure for a target thats not a big deal — still noticeable and youd absolutely get yelled at but like big picture and all — but for us thats a decent chunk! this woman simply does not double check anything she does regarding the cash drawers and it outrages me.

ALSO ALSO yesterday i counted out my drawer and it ended on like $150.30. within the boundaries. she put it in for the when the other closer came in. i left at 2:30, this other girl came in at 6:30, so somewhere in that four hours she recounted the drawer. we have a binder we write our numbers in for ~Accountability~. she wrote and initialed that it was at the $150.30 i counted it out to. this drawer, for the three or so hours its running that evening, handles no cash. written in the binder it has a big ol NO CASH written through in the Cash In and Deposited sections. the drawer closed at $150.75. where??? did that extra??? .45¢ come from??? and like what a weird amount too! thats not a two-quarter whoopsie, thats a whole mess of coins. four dimes and a nickel. a quarter and two dimes. other combinations im too tired to list. and like when i counted it that next morning it was at that $150.75. which is impressive, as the last time a NO CASH she wrote that had different starting and ending numbers, it turned out that there wasnt actually a difference, and that the original starting number was in fact still the amount in there. her ending number was also off by like .37¢ or something that time so like.

man. tell me you dont count out the registers properly without telling me you dont count them out properly.

anyway all of this is to say: periods suck and i hate them and i fucking wish i could sleep instead of worrying about what im currently worried about.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper -Pt 14

Paring: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Warnings: just a bunch of fluffy family fluff, some dude being a nosy creep, overbearing mothers Length: 1.1 k Notes: This one is slow, babes. Just needed to build a bit of this new world, introduce Annie a bit and show you how things are progressing. It’ll pick up again soon I promise, bear with me! (Or don’t, I mean I can’t force you to like where this is going, lolz) Also, just typed this up tonight while raging at the laziness of men, so there are going to be mistakes, I can’t be fucked to find them. Trying to post this with NO links, as I’ve heard that may be the reason for the tagging issues? LET ME KNOW IF YOU GET THE NOTIFICATION THIS TIME!

Turns out, two people with zero child-caring experience are not going to have an easy time suddenly becoming parents. There wasn't any one particular thing that you could pinpoint the difficulty one, either, it was just a complete one-eighty on how you had previously lived your lives.

Frankie immediately stopped working such late hours, effectively putting a bookmark in the cider's expansion. He didn't even have to think twice about it, it was a no-brainer to him. Didn't make the loss of potential income an easy pill to swallow, though. Date nights were officially off the schedule, so were sleepovers and all the fun things that accompanied them. There had been a few heated moments between the two of you, but Frankie felt weird about having sex anywhere near his daughter and you refused to let him fuck you in the barn. Again. Especially after the last two times resulted in unfortunate splinter placement. 

Annie took less time to adjust than the two of you did, she really was an amazing little girl. She loved her little nook in the loft, although the décor was not to her taste and she wouldn't stop dropping hints about it until you took her to pick out new everything. Frankie had tried to put his foot down by explaining she wasn't going to get everything she wanted in life, but all it took were widening eyes and a protruding bottom lip before he was handing you the truck keys before you could blink.

Annie's attachment to you had surprised everybody, including her. The conversations you and Frankie had had before her arrival usually skirted around the conversation of what your role would be. You knew she was mourning her mother and were wary of trying to replace her, so you had fully expected to take a step back from Frankie's life while he and Annie built their new one together. You had her at apple farm, however, and now the two of you were best buds.

Well, until the six-going-on-sixteen attitude reared its ugly head and suddenly sweet, angelic Annie was replaced by a stubborn, moody, unwilling child who decided that screaming was the best response to negotiations.

For the first couple of months, Frankie had allowed it, not knowing what was normal acting-out behaviour for a kid who had experienced parental loss. He also had a hard time being strict, as he still felt like it wasn't his place; some weird kind of imposter syndrome. However, after Jacquie and Mark had been witness to one such episode, they had gently pulled Frankie aside and encouraged him to find a therapist for Annie and that structure and rules would be beneficial for her.

New routines were set, some of which you were involved in and others were special between Frankie and his daughter. Saturday was movie night, she was asleep by 7:30 so it was more of a movie evening, with popcorn, Twizzlers, and coke floats. You were invited to these, as Annie insisted on educating both adults on which Disney princess was best.

Frankie drove Annie to school every day, he knew he could easily send her on the bus but he needed that extra assurance that she had gotten to school safely. There had been an odd incident, which no other adults seem to have witnessed, where a man had apparently approached Annie and started asking her questions about her parents. 

This had, understandably, upset the girl, and the two of you, but the busy body's identity was never revealed. Frankie had been irate. Initially, he interrogated Annie, asking her for every little detail. Then the bus driver, parking lot attendant, teachers, and other kids were subject to his questioning. He went so far as to request all security video footage from around town, but nothing showed up. Neither of you suspected Annie of lying but it was like the man was a ghost. 

Eventually, it was chalked up to a parent wanting to get the scoop on your and Frankie's lives, as you'd been very private considering your first action as a couple was to practically dry hump on a carnival ride. After that incident causing Frankie's panic attack, and now creeping out a kid, you were a lot less inclined to appreciate the meddling from bored townsfolk even if it did bring the two of you together.

Frankie was always thinking up new ideas to build trust and create new memories for Annie, his guilt at missing out on her toddler years was exasperated by having her now. They created a memory book for her, so she could write down, colour, or paste anything that reminded her of her mom or her life in California. You were secretly building a memory book for the two of them, to show Annie when she was older how hard her dad had worked to become the man she needed him to be.

Twice a week Annie got to pick the recipe and they made dinner together. This usually resulted in a massive mess and only semi-edible food, but the smiles on their faces were worth it.

On Wednesdays, you picked her up and had a girl's afternoon getting something from the bakery and perusing books at the library, making up stories about the people walking by the café windows, or driving over to Jacquie's so Annie could play with her kids.

It was after one such outing when you were dropping Annie off at the farm, that Frankie came out to greet you with a guilty look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he began, rubbing the back of his neck and readjusting his baseball cap. "I didn't look at the caller display before picking up, and then once I was on the phone I got nervous."

"Frankie," you said lowly, dread filling your stomach. "What did you do?"

"I couldn't help it, I panic talked and I don't even know how much I blurted out! She's like Oprah or Barbara Walters! She just knows how to get people talking!"

"I know, Frankie," you ground out, trying not to lose your shit in front of a very interested little girl who has no filter during Sharing Time at school. "That's why we don't answer her calls!"

"But, babe, she's your mom. We can't keep ignoring her-"

"Apparently not!" You didn't realize how frustrated you were before it was too late. Your voice had gone shrill and loud and, judging by the look at Annie's face, angry. Taking a deep, calming breath in you tried smiling at the two of them without it making you look demented, "I need to call her and do some damage control, make sure she doesn't do something rash like-"

"Ahhh..." Frankie was back to looking guilty and you could have sworn your heart stopped. "She knows about Annie. Called herself Grandma. Said that Mother's Day would be extra special this year..?"

"FUuuuuuudge.." you barely managed to withhold the swear, looking at Frankie with a slightly panicked yet amused look on your face.

"It's okay," a little voice piped up, "I know that word. Mom said ‘Fuck’ all the time while we were stuck in traffic."

Part Fifteen - coming soon!

TAGS: Let’s see if these bitches work...

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov @trash-dino-5000 @reader-s-cantina @alberta-sunrise @pascal-rascal424 @bts17army @sarahjkl82-blog @grogusmum @radiowallet @vonschweetz @greeneyedblondie44 @diaryofkali @cassandras-nest @silverstarsandsuns @haapeaness @missstef23 @computeringturtle @julesorwhatever @keeper0fthestars @lackofhonor @metahigh @thirstworldproblemss @sergeantbannerbarnes @callsigncatfish @inaturenymph @agingerindenial @pedritobalmando @lord-of-restingbiface @marydjarin @sebbys-girl @apascalrascal @thisshipwillsail316 @bison-writes @absurdthirst @ubri812 @marydjarin @inaturenymph @hyperfixatingmenever @louderrthanthunderr @petersunderoos96 @dobbyjen @tobealostwanderer @studyofawearymind @jaime1110 @bison-writes @rosiefridayrogersunday @leias-rebelion  @captainjaspenor @prettypedros @gracie7209 @peterhollandkait

[uglypastels]

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2

(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it  also shoutout to @duskholland​ for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40​  for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)

word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE) 

warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut 

you can find the band’s setlist here

not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)

Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here

With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.

“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!” 

“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in. 

“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always. 

“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either. 

“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine. 

“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone. 

“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion. 

She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home. 

But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot. 

You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable. 

So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo. 

Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting. 

No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out. 

The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed. 

“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform. 

Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall. 

The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name. 

Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up. 

“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?” 

“A beer?” you said it more like a question. 

“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up. 

“Not looking forward to it?”

Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him. 

“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.

“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you. 

“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again. 

“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already. 

Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.

“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.” 

“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon. 

“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready. 

“A bit of everything, I suppose.” 

You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you. 

“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you. 

“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.

You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet. 

So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one. 

That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming. 

The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before. 

Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-

You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow. 

You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker. 

The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.” 

Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect. 

“Here’s one you all should know.” 

The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song. 

In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too. 

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.  

That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you? 

The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went. 

“It was only a kiss” 

It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else. 

And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly. 

The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words. 

“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years… 

Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot. 

The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch. 

The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like. 

Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course. 

“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself. 

“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees. 

“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute. 

Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option. 

“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men.  It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen. 

“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised. 

“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing? 

At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line- 

“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable. 

When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song. 

This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good? 

As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end. 

But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing. 

“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions. 

“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly. 

Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone. 

“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry. 

You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot. 

Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom… 

You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music. 

It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks. 

Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.

By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought. 

And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage. 

“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!” 

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up. 

“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice. 

“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate. 

“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him. 

“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point. 

“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.” 

“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?” 

“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it. 

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom. 

“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?” 

“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter. 

“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one. 

“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked. 

“What does it matter,” he chuckled.

“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. 

“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well. 

“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.” 

“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.” 

“Yeah, just promise me one thing.” 

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly. 

“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.” 

You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely. 

“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you. 

“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you. 

“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement. 

“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!” 

“You know him?” you asked, surprised. 

“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically. 

“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her? 

“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off. 

“Broccoli, baby. I know.” 

“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted. 

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter. 

“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine. 

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right? 

You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent. 

He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything. 

Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table. 

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad. 

“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment. 

“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained. 

“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb. 

“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right? 

“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat. 

It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up. 

“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.  

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn. 

“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink. 

“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered. 

“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”

“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head. 

“You’re interesting, you know that?” 

“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position. 

“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like. 

“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.

“Are you guys related?” 

Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner. 

“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.

The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously. 

 “So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”

“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though. 

“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically. 

“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.

“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake. 

“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?” 

“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard? 

But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.

“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter. 

“How so?” you choked out. 

“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”? 

“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.” 

He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question. 

“No one there was as cute as you.” 

“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts. 

That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”. 

“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night. 

“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake. 

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested. 

“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.” 

“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt. 

You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye. 

You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door. 

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”

To be continued...

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2! 

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[ladyeliot]

Dance with me

Request: Anonymous:  Hi saw your post for the Valentine’s Day request and that’s really cause that’s my birthday too so yay 😀 anyway how abt a tony x reader exes angstfluff thanks

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: As is customary on Valentine's Day, a charity gala is held by your company to raise funds, but this year you'll have to face it alone - your ex-boyfriend won't be with you, or maybe he will?

Warnings: Angst and a bit fluff.

Word count: 2712

A/N:  Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Valentine’s Day (Prompts)

Your company's annual fundraising party couldn't be more ill-timed. You still didn't understand why it had to be held on 14 February, well you had a pretty good idea. Year after year the upper echelons of New York City and its environs gathered together, more than for a charitable cause, to find the next gossip that would be the most talked about for months to come.

In years past, the only thing that had saved you from the suffering and discomfort you felt every time you walked through the door was your companion, your partner, but that year you had to face all those vipers on your own. The relationship with Tony Stark had come to an end after four years, more than mutually, you took a big part in that decision. Things were becoming difficult for you, it was hard to overcome all the events he was involved in day by day, as well as his constant attempts to save himself from death. You couldn't cope.

It was arguably the most complicated decision you had ever made in your life, there was a long and complex history, your relationship was by no means simple, nor was it easy to begin with, so obviously it wasn't easy to end. You had to endure news that reported Iron Man's disappearance, that he was badly injured and some had even given him up for dead, then everything was solved, but you didn't want to see the day when he really was, you couldn't bear it. It wasn't easy for him either, he was afraid that his actions would put you in danger, so he understood what you were telling him, he accepted your decision and accepted it in the end. You also accepted his decision to go on with his life as a superhero, you could never ask him to do otherwise.

The Frick Collection art museum on Manhattan's Upper East Side was the selected venue for the charity event. It had been ranked for two consecutive years as "one of the most memorable parties of the year" by the New York Times, but your viewpoint was far from those words. Unlike the vast majority of those present you made a rather discreet entrance, you had made the decision to stay calm and leave as soon as possible, so you would have a few drinks, chat with the guests and put the day behind you as soon as possible. After all, it was your duty to get your company's guests to donate as much money as possible to charity.

You could not deny that the atmosphere was not pleasant, visually you found yourself enveloped by numerous pieces of art accompanied by the sweet melody of an orchestra that filled the atmosphere. The architectural elements of the place also generated an escape from the outside world. Generally the conversations were banal, related to work, art, politics or social life, nothing you couldn't cope with, plus the glass of champagne you were holding in your right hand helped with that.

The problem came when they began to notice that you were not accompanied by Mr. Stark on this occasion. Time after time it was your turn to report that the two of you had decided to go your separate ways, and time after time you had to listen to the lamentations, looks of pity, and on several occasions critical remarks about him. What you didn't know was that in the crowd there was a pair of curious eyes watching you.

Your limit was coming to an end, so you decided to escape the atmosphere for a few minutes to get some fresh air, you needed a breather if you were to last a couple of hours in this place. The gardens were just as engrossing as the interior. There was not a single leaf protruding from the vegetation, and the singing of the fountain water professed a relationship in your body, no one could tell you were in the middle of the island of Manhattan.

"Have you given up already?" you closed your eyes as you heard that tone of voice behind you. "I was surprised to see you talking so long with Mrs. Fox, at one point I even thought you were going to spill the champagne on her dress."

Without turning around you smiled at his words, for more than once you had thought of throwing your glass of champagne at them and leaving the place.

"You look beautiful tonight," you felt her voice grow closer. "You've always known I love that dress."

Her body was so close to you that you felt her jacket brush lightly against her bare back. At no time had it crossed your mind that Tony would show up there that night, on the contrary, you thought he would be anywhere else but New York. Taking a breath of air into your lungs, giving yourself strength, you decided to turn around and face him face to face. You hadn't seen each other for months and the last time you did, things didn't go so well, so you hadn't spoken to each other again.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" you asked in a serious tone, which didn't surprise him.

"Assuming this is a benefit party," he began holding out his hands, "I'm guessing drinking several dry martinis, Scotch, champagne, putting up with comments I don't care about and letting them praise me to get my money's worth."

"I thought you hated these kinds of parties," you expounded somewhat uncomfortably at the situation.

"And I do," he stated bluntly, taking a sip of his martini. "But you have to think about charity too, don't you?"

You knew him well enough to differentiate his tones in conversations, you knew when he was using his ironic tone, when he was lying, when he was insecure or when he was speaking from within. On this occasion his words contained extra information that he wasn't telling you, so you opted to give up on him, you had to deal with the people inside that building, you couldn't start a war with Tony right now.

"In that case," you started to walk away towards the inside of the museum, "I hope you enjoy your evening, Tony".

You had left Tony and his dry martini behind, now all you had to do was get through a couple more hours without incident and the day could be over. You picked up another glass of champagne from the tray of one of the waiters and before you could look for a target you were already inside a group of investors of your company showing the best of your smiles.

You kept the thought of him being there from your mind, but it was practically unavoidable for you. You didn't want to destabilise yourself, but it was more than evident that you still felt something towards Tony, feelings don't go away overnight and even more so towards a person you had loved with all your being. He knew it, he had an advantage in that sense, you weren't as good as him at hiding feelings, that's why you chose to stay as far away as possible from your ex-partner. But it wasn't possible.

"Mr. Herbert, Mr. Johnson," as if out of nowhere he joined the group you were conversing with. "Oh, Mrs. Johnson, you look splendid tonight."

Tony's compliments fell on Mrs. Johnson, who blushed when she heard them. Who didn't blush when someone like him told you how beautiful you were? He had a superhuman power over people, and he played it really well.

"Would you allow me to steal Miss Y/L/N from you?" he asked flashing a smile on his face.

"Please," they offered.

"Excuse me," you said with little escape. "I won't be long."

As if you didn't have a word in the matter Tony tackled you, walking a couple of feet away from the group with whom you were getting to close a big deal for the future of the company.

"Tony was about to-"

"Dance with me," he said curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What?" you asked a little puzzled.

His brown eyes stared into yours. You began to get a little nervous at the intensity of his gaze, so you looked around.

"Dance with me."

"I... I don't have time to dance with you," you explained, gesturing with your hands. "I'm here working, you know that better than anyone."

"I know," he nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. "That's why I'm asking you to dance with me. You know I'm the biggest benefactor of the night. So... dance with me." Tony lowered the tone of his voice, more seductive, one you knew perfectly well.

"Are you... blackmailing me? Or, worse, are you buying me with money?" you asked with a somewhat surly frown.

"I wasn't the one who said you were working," he defended himself. "But looking at it that way... there's no one else here who would get the money out of me."

"I thought you were doing this for charity," you attacked him.

"And I am," he said with all the confidence in the world. "But I need you to give your hand out to please me, too."

Tony offered you his hand along with a slight smile slanted across his face. You were playing with fire, you really would be if you decided to take his hand and surrender at his feet. The night would turn around completely, but what you feared most was how it would end. Inside you two opposing parts were fighting to select the best decision, on the one hand your brain was literally telling you to reject him and get out of there as soon as possible, on the other hand your emotions were screaming at you to take his hand and let yourself go. Whatever you did, you were likely to regret it later, so you chose to regret doing it.

You took a breath and released him by placing your hand on his, which amplified his smile even more. Without a second thought, he led you to the dance floor, where the melody coming from a group of musicians could be heard with more effusiveness. It was relaxed, soothing, inviting you to dance in pairs. Tony gently pulled you to his body and placed the palm of his hand on your bare back, too far south for your liking, on the contrary, you placed it on his shoulder.

"Relax," he whispered inches from your face. "We've done this many times."

"I'm relaxed," you lied in a way he couldn't quite believe, so you tried to justify yourself. "I'm just thinking that I should go with Mr. Johnson to-"

"Oh, you're thinking about another man while you're dancing with me?" he asked cutting you off with mock indignation. "Very nice."

You ducked your face with a small smile, which he himself returned along with an intense stare.

"Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?" he asked, searching your gaze.

"I think you commented on it when we met in the garden," you said, trying not to fall for his charms.

"Then I'll reaffirm it again," his martini breath reached you. "You look beautiful. Plus you're wearing the perfume I gave you."

Discomfort at his words came back to you, and though you avoided showing it your unconscious inspections of your surroundings, avoiding eye contact gave you away.

"Look at me," he demanded.

As you complied with his request, you realised that you didn't know if you would be able to go through with it. The proximity you were having created an intimate situation that was causing numerous memories and feelings to come to your mind and body. For Tony it might have been easy, but for you it wasn't, mostly because you knew that when it was over you were going to go home, to face the reality that he was no longer present. You were not as strong as he was. You hadn't seen him for months, since you broke up, and you knew that it was going to end up hurting you, so you decided to put an end to that dream.

"I think..." you dropped your hand from his shoulder. "I can't go on."

With a calm step you walked away from him, leaving him alone among the other dancing couples, forced a small smile to dedicate it to those people who waved at you as you passed them and headed back outside, finding a place under the night to regain lost strength, praying that Tony wouldn't show up there again. But he wasn't giving up so easily.

"Are you okay?" his figure appeared behind you.

A lump took over your throat as you heard his voice again. You took a deep breath and told yourself to be as nonchalant as possible about the situation.

"Yeah, I just needed to get some air," you commented impassively.

"Okay, I thought you looked a little uncomfortable," he commented, moving to your left side. "You know, it was just a dance."

"Are you kidding me, just a dance?" you said somewhat offended that he barely noticed. "Okay, fine, maybe it's just a dance for you, but it wasn't for me." You had already started to blurt out everything you were thinking, so now you decided not to stop. "These last few months have been horrible, but I was finally starting to take charge of my life completely, and this is a step backwards, I don't want to fall."

"Fall?" Tony cocked his head to one side, clicking his tongue a little. "Do you...do you think these past few months have been easy for me? Because I reckon you think it has been, that I've been 'enjoying the freedom', as you called it."

Tony reminded you of some of the words that came out of your mouth the last time you met at his house, when you went to pick up your things, a fact that embarrassed you greatly.

"I don't think that," you defended yourself by turning away.

"It seems so," his words were firm, as was the step he took towards you. "Listen, I think you know me better than anyone, and just because I don't have the facility you do to show how I feel doesn't mean I'm not affected by things. In case you're interested to know, I haven't left the lab in five months."

The expression on Tony's face had hardened, as had his words.

"I came here with the sole intention of seeing you, of feeling something again," he clenched his jaw.

"And what position does that put me in?" you asked raising your tone as he did and boring your eyes into his. "You come here, you see me, you feel something and you disappear..."

"Who said anything about disappearing?" he frowned lifting his chin.

"Tony, I don't know with what intention you came here tonight or what you expected to happen," you said, feeling more vulnerable, with a tone of sadness, "but what is clear is that we made a decision and no matter how hard it is, we must accept it. It is clear that there are still feelings, at least on my part, but let's put the past behind us," you paused under his watchful gaze. "I'd better get going."

Saying those words and checking the stiffness in Tony's countenance you opted to continue on your way.

"Wait," Tony stopped your steps by grabbing your arm. "You think I can let you go after what you just said?"

"Enjoy your night, Tony."

That's how for the first time you were brave enough to take back the reins of your life, closing the door to the past and opening a window to the future.

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[snarksandkisses]

What I think about COVID-19 this morning - Malia Jones, PhD, MPH

What I think about COVID-19 this morning

March 5, 2020

 Maybe I'm the closest thing you personally know to an infectious disease epidemiologist. Maybe not--I'm not an expert on this virus by any stretch, but I have general knowledge and training from studying epidemics that is applicable, so here are my thoughts. 

 First and foremost: we are going to see a tremendous increase in the number of US cases of COVID-19 in the next week. This is not because of some new pattern in the spread of the disease, but rather due to a major change in the requirements to be tested. Until yesterday, if you had flulike illness but had not recently traveled to China, Italy, South Korea, or Iran, you could not be tested. This is just the way healthcare works, you get tested if you meet the case definition and the case definition included travel.

 As of yesterday, you can be tested if you are sick and have a doctor's order to be tested. So expect things to feel a lot more panicky all of a sudden. We will see hundreds or thousands of new cases as a result of testing increases.

 Second: is that panic legitimate? Sort of. This is not the zombie apocalypse. The death rate of 30 deaths per 1000 cases is probably a wild overestimate. (The denominator is almost certainly wrong because it is confirmed cases--and we only confirm cases when we test for them). That said, even at 3 per 1000 cases, this would be a big deal. A very big deal. By way of comparison, the death rate for influenza is between 1 and 2 in 1000 cases. So, yeah. Roughly 0x to 30x worse than a huge global flu pandemic? That's a problem.

 Unlike flu, COVID-19 is not *particularly* dangerous for children, so that’s some happy news. It is dangerous for older adults and those with lung conditions, so we need to be extra careful to protect those populations from exposure. 

Also, for millions of Americans, getting any serious illness requiring a hospitalization is a major problem because they can't pay for it. And our health care system is probably going to struggle to keep up with it all. And with China basically closed, our global economy is going to take a huge hit and we'll feel the shockwaves for years. Those are real concerns.

 What can we do? Our focus should be on *slowing down the spread* of this disease so that we have time to get caught up. Here is my advice:

 1. Wash. Your. Hands. Wash them so much.

The current best guess is that coronavirus is transmitted via close contact and surface contamination. A very small study came out yesterday suggesting that the virus causing COVID-19 is *mostly* transmitted via contact with contaminated surfaces.

I have started washing my hands each time I enter a new building and after being in shared spaces (classrooms especially), in addition to the standard practice of washing after using the bathroom and before eating. Soap and water. Hand sanitizer also kills this virus, as does rubbing alcohol (the main ingredient in hand sanitizer).

 There is no need to be obsessive about this. Just wash your hands. A little bit more effort here goes a long way. 

 2. Don’t pick your nose. Or put your fingers in your mouth, on your lips, or in your eyes. Surface contact works like this: you touch something dirty. Maybe it's an elevator button. Virus sticks to your hands. Then you rub your eye. Then you touch your sandwich, and put the sandwich in your mouth. Now there is virus in your eyes and mouth. See?

 You may be thinking, but I don’t pick my nose because I am an adult! An observational study found that people sitting at a desk working touched their eyes, nose, or lips between 3 and 50 times per hour. Perfectly normal grown-ups, not lowlifes like my friends.

 2a. There was one note that came out suggesting that face masks actually promote surface contamination because you're always adjusting them--i.e., touching your face. I don’t know if that’s true. But face masks should not be worn by the public right now, unless you are the person who is sick and you're on your way to or actually at the doctor's office. The mask’s function is to prevent spit from flying out of your mouth and landing on things when you cough or sneeze. It flies out of your mouth and is caught in the mask instead. If you are the person who is sick and not on the way to the doctor, go home. Let the people who really need them have the masks. Like doctors.

 [ETA on 3/6/2020 honestly people I am getting so much push back on the mask recommendation!! The world is running low on masks. If everyone wants a mask so they can feel ok about keeping their Daytona Beach Spring Break plans and then hospitals in India can't buy them anymore, shame on us.]

 Coronavirus does not appear to be airborne in the sense that doesn't remain floating around freely in the air for a long time, like measles does. You are probably not going to breathe it in, unless someone is coughing in front of you. If someone is coughing in your face, feel free to tell them to get their ass home and move 6 feet away from them. (Yeah I know, if you have a toddler, you're screwed.)

 3. Sanitize the objects you and lots of other people touch, especially people outside your family--like door handles, shared keyboards at schools (brrr), salad bar tongs, etc. Best guesses are that the virus can live on surfaces for 2-48 hours, maybe even longer, depending on the surface, temperature, and humidity.

 Many common household cleaning products will kill this virus. However, white vinegar solution does not. You can make your own inexpensive antimicrobial spray by mixing 1 part household bleach to 99 parts cold tap water. Spray this on surfaces and leave for 10-30 minutes. Note: this is bleach. It will ruin your sofa.

 4. "Social distancing." You're going to get so sick of this phrase. This means keeping people apart from one another (preferably 6 feet apart, and sanitizing shared objects). This public health strategy is our next line of defense, and its implementation is what will lead to flights and events cancelled, borders closed, and schools closed.

 For now, you could limit face-to-face meetings, especially large ones. Zoom is an excellent videoconferencing option. If you spend time in shared spaces, see #1. Ask your child's school about their hygiene plan, if they haven't already told you what it is. If I were in charge of a school setting, I'd be hand sanitizing the s*** out of the kids' hands, including in and out of each space, and taking temperatures at the door. I am planning to email our school nurse right after this to ask if they need my volunteer help cleaning surfaces.

 If you can telecommute, do that a little more. If you are someone's boss and they could do their job remotely, encourage them to do that. 

 Avoid large gatherings of people if at all possible, especially if they are in an area with cases OR places that lots of people travel to. If you attend group events and start to feel even a little bit sick within 2 to 14 days, you need to self isolate immediately. Like for a tiny tickle in your throat.

 5. All your travel plans are about to get screwed up. If you are considering booking flights right now, get refundable tickets. ETA: most trip insurance will not cover cancellations due to a pandemic. Look for "cancel for any reason" trip insurance. 

 Considerations for risks related to that trip you’re planning: how bad would it be if you got stuck where you are going for 3 to 6 weeks? How bad would it be to be isolated at home for 2-3 weeks upon your return? Do you have direct contact with people who are over 70 and/or have lung conditions? If those seem really bad to you, rethink your trip, especially if it is to a location where there are confirmed cases. 

 6. If you are sick, stay home. Please! For the love of all that is holy. Stay at home. Your contributions to the world are really just not that important.

 7. There is a good chance some communities will see school cancelled and asked to limit non-essential movement. If someone in your family gets sick your family will almost certainly be isolated for 2-3 weeks (asked to stay at home). You could start stocking up with essentials for that scenario, but don't run out and buy a years' worth of toilet paper. Again, not the apocalypse. 2 weeks' worth of essential items. Refill any prescriptions, check your supply of coffee, kitty litter, and jigsaw puzzles.

 8. I do want to remind everyone that when public health works, the result is the least newsworthy thing ever: nothing happens. If this all fizzles out and you start feeling like ‘Wah, all that fuss for nothing??’ Then send a thank-you note to your local department of public health for a job well done. Fingers crossed for that outcome.

 9. Look, I think there are some positives here. All this handwashing could stop flu season in its tracks! We have an opportunity to reduce our global carbon footprint by telecommuting more, flying less, and understanding where our stuff comes from. We can use this to think about the problems with our healthcare system. We can use this to reflect on our positions of privilege and implicit biases. We can start greeting each other using jazz hands. I'm genuinely excited about those opportunities.

 There is a lot we don't yet know about this virus. It didn't even exist 90 days ago. So stay tuned, it is an evolving situation. The WHO website has a decent FAQ. Free to email or text with questions, and you can forward this to others if you think it's useful.

 May the force be with you. 

 Malia Jones, PhD, MPH

maliajones@gmail.com

 I’m an Assistant Scientist in Health Geography at the Applied Population Laboratory at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I study social contact of humans, and spatial patterns of infectious disease, among other things. 

   P.S. The number one question I am getting is, did you really write this? Yes. I wrote this. 

 I didn't write it for professional purposes, so I didn't put my work email on it. It was really just meant to be an email to my friends and family in advance of what I expect to be an escalation in the panic level. But it was apparently welcome information and went viral on FB. I've decided not to edit out the swears, even though I wrote this with a much smaller audience in mind. 

 Thanks for checking your facts! Go science! 

[diobrando]

Idk how to do a read more on mobile anymore lol but uhhh idk keep scrolling since this is about my dogs

So I've got 2 senior German Shepards and their lifespan is between 10-14 years and ofc less if theyre boys (which they are) and one of my dogs is already 14 (if im remembering correctly and we got him for my uncle back in 2008) and the other dog we have no real way of knowing his age bc he was a stray that my brother forced me to take care of... it was a whole thing bc the dog wouldn't leave bc my brother kept giving him food and water and there's this ledge at the back of our property that had tons of vines and other plants ANYWAYS the point is that he would sleep there during the day and animal control never saw him when they spent 2 weeks in our neighborhood collecting the strays which my brother took as a sign to just transition the dog from there into our actually property and it was very annoying because we already had the dog my uncle no longer wanted (he originally said he'd take the dog bc his daughters agreed to help but they never did so the dog was very underweight by the time we moved into our house and my uncle saw how healthy he looked when they went to el Salvador for a month and we took him in so thats how ownership was transferred lol) but anyways I spent the first year pissed bc this dog was bigger than our first dog and he would steal his food, attack him, and ofc the cleanup was so hard bc we still hadn't covered up the dirt patches and they'd both make crazy messes... they get along fine now like they def love each other and I love them both since we've had them for so long now but they're so old... champion has his off days where he won't eat and he'll sometimes have accidents in my room (he doesn't get in trouble I know its not on purpose) and he has trouble with the steps out front and even falls into the gap between the fence :/ he's my 14 year old and he also has advanced arthritis so I try to be extra gentle and accommodating with him by buying him comfy beds and taking things extra slow and helping him get up (when possible bc I never know if he's going to bite me for it and I dont mind if he bites my hand but in some positions I just dont want to risk him feeling uncomfortable and lashing out and getting my neck or face bc god knows that would hurt a lot since both my dogs have strong bites) geez ok and ny other dog I estimate is btwn 11-13 hes so aggressive and territorial which is a major problem. He is not really allowed off the property bc I cant control him or hold him back if he lashes out (and I have been on the receiving one of his soft bites and let me tell you those things hurt so fuxking bad and it wasn't even that serious like yeah it tore the skin and I bled but it was just the surface and it was so funny bc he immediately knew he fucked up and went slack) but yeah he also has arthritis and its not as bad as my older dog but it will most likely get worse and he also has a weird growth on his chest between his 2 front paws and its like.... im already spending my money on their dog food (I wanna say roughly $60 a bag and $30 for a few packs of chicken or champion won't eat at all and this is every month) and I told my brother to consider what he wants to do with shaggy bc he is old and its most likely a tumor and idk if its gonna be worth it to spend thousands esp for him when he's the only one in his household that works and he has to support his wife, 2 kids, and the animals they have (yes my brother moved out and left me with that beast of a dog and he NEVER comes to visit them anyways so why put up a front like youre concerned... this is just like the new years eve incident when my dog ate a huge block of rat poison and I saw him finishing it and i had to immediately induce vomiting and then when he said he'd go to the vet with me he wanted me to wait 2 hours like ????? HELLO? HE ATE POISON!!! and then I had to spend the night at the ER bc my brother and mom had a stupid fight and she tried to kill herself)

so idk if it would be the right move to put them down soon or to let them die at home (probably in my room bc that is where champion spends most of his time when someone is at home) and it doesn't even matter which dog dies first (naturally it'll probably be champion) the other dog is going to be so depressed

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet-chapter 14: wandering

All chapters

chapter 13

I awoke suddenly feeling a cold breeze of air brush my face, I looked around and realized I had fallen asleep outside against the tree, and it was now nighttime. "Crap" I whispered looking down at my watch. It was already 9 o'clock. How had no one questioned where I was? Better yet how had no one seen me? I frowned a bit at the thought no one came to find me. It was freezing too, considering it was Winter, I'm surprised it wasn't snowing yet.

 I stood up and grabbed my bag and began to head back inside the castle to head to my dormitory. I let out a deep breath remembering the realization I had come to before I drifted off. I hated having to deal with this now. Well actually, there really was no way to deal with this. Most people that develop...feelings for someone are actually able to work through and maybe act on them. But not I. I was to be stuck with this for however long it decides to stick around. I don't want to jump to conclusions, it's not like I like the man, I just...fancy him. Yeah, fancy that's the perfect word to describe what I felt for Severus. My potions Professor. Oh merlin y/n what is wrong with you!? He's a teacher for heaven's sake. I need to do everything possible to get rid of this feeling, or redirect it somehow.

I finally made it back into my dormitory and quietly took a shower and got ready for bed. My roommates seemed to be pretty heavy sleepers. I stood in the mirror fresh out of the shower and brushed my hair. Looking at the girl before me, the one who has convinced herself somehow, to fall for this cruel man. But he wasn't cruel was he. Not to me at least. I put my dark green nightgown on and slipped on my panties, exiting the bathroom after washing my face and brushing my teeth. I laid a few pats on Hera and gave her a treat, crawling into bed and looking up at my ceiling. How could this have happened? He was so awful to me when we first met, I mean he's awful to everyone, how did I stem feelings from seeing him a couple extra hours, and pleasing him by passing this test? It all seemed to have happened overnight. I began to realize though it didn't happen overnight, I've felt this way since he saved me from detention with Lockhart. Foolish of me. I closed my eyes waiting to drift asleep, but to no surprise, I couldn't. Typical, the one time I need my thoughts to shut up, they don't, they only hinder me from the peaceful release. I did take a rather long nap earlier, so it makes sense. I got up and slipped on some socks and grabbed my wand. I exited the dormitory and walked out into the dungeons. Holy shit it's cold, I thought to myself. "Lumos" I whispered and began walking down the hall, not in the direction of Snape's class. Last thing I would need right now is to run into a certain brooding man. I crossed my arms over my chest to help with the cold feeling, and continued taking a slow stroll through the castle. I could probably easily get caught and would most definitely get some form of punishment, but I didn't really care. It's not like they'd kick me out or something.

I looked out a window as I passed by it and looked out at the forest. I've heard stories of the Forbidden Forest, but I figured it was forbidden for a reason. I did have some desire to explore it one day though, just not tonight. I continued down the hall and looked at all the portraits as they slept. This school really is wondrous. I do miss Beauxbatons. To think if I hadn't been torn from there I may not be in the predicament I found myself in currently. I decided to head to the kitchens to see if the house elves were still in there, or if they too go and sleep, and maybe i'd be able to get a cup of coffee or something. As I headed that way I heard mumbling voices and turned out my wand and clung to the wall, I looked over the corner to see Professor Flitwick and Professor Lockhart conversing as they walked past and continued monitoring the halls, heading towards the Ravenclaw dormitories. I quietly tiptoed once I saw them out of sight and picked up the pace to the kitchen. As I reached the doors I stood on my toes to look through the windows and saw no one inside. I let myself in and walked over to what I hoped was the coffee machine. Now where's the coffee? I went through each cabinet checking where it could be, it didn't help it was dark, but I didn't wanna risk being seen. I opened and closed each cabinet as quietly as possible still having no luck. I squatted down to the very far end cabinet on the bottom but it was locked, hmm this must be where they keep the coffee so no one drinks it, silly I thought, "Alohomora" I whispered pointing my wand to it and heard it click open. Sure enough to my surprise the coffee was indeed in here, It was a special blend so I was guessing it was one of the teachers in specific, I pulled the jar out and put enough into a filter into the pot to make one cup and then added the water, I pressed the power button and took a few minutes to figure out how to work it. Before I pressed brew I thought for a moment and placed a silencing spell on the room.

After what seemed like forever, but in reality was 5 minutes, the coffee was done and I poured it all into a mug I found on the shelf. I blew on it a bit but it was still very hot. I laid it on the counter and cleaned up the machine. I grabbed the coffee tin and went to place it back in its place, as I squatted down I noticed in the back of this cabinet were a few bottles of firewhiskey and wine. Wow the Professors must have some fun around here. I looked at the brown bottles and thought about it for a moment. No I shouldn't If I get caught with that I would actually be kicked out. I left it alone for now and shut the cabinet, locking it and taking my cup from the counter. I headed out of the kitchen checking to make sure no one was near and took the charm off as I left. I began walking down the quiet and cold halls once more. I then had an idea. I made my way all the way to the stairs that led to the Astronomy tower and headed up in it to sit and enjoy the hot beverage. I stood leaning against the wall looking out over the courtyards and rest of the castle, you could see a lot of the school from here, this was probably my favorite place to come in the whole school. All the stars twinkling above. I took a sip of my cup, the hot liquid running down my throat, a sigh of relief as warmth filled my body. It was very cold up here and I wish I had brought my coat.

I looked up at the sky, and my thoughts began to run, I soon realized the only thing on my mind was My professor. How stupid of me to let this happen. I think the worst part was how I knew I would not be able to confide in anyone about these inappropriate feelings, no one would understand, and who knows they may think I'm dreadful and disgusting. I never confided in my father, and stopped confiding in my mother when I realized anytime I did she would ask me what I did that caused this to happen, it was always my fault no matter how many times I was screwed over. The only one I would ever be able to confide in was my sister. We were very close and she always listened and gave me good advice, she was so understanding, kind, and non judgmental. She was a much better person than I. She would have loved this view too, she would have loved Hogwarts, I just know she would have been in Hufflepuff, she'd fit right in with them. Or maybe Griffyndor, she was so brave when it came down to tough situations. My mother would be a Raven claw no doubt, she's very smart and technical. I don't know what my father would be. "Probably a Slytherin that bastard" I said out loud taking another sip. He attended Durmstrang. I cringed at the thought of him being in my house as well. I was nothing like him. He was horrible and vain, not to mention incredibly sexist and probably everything else you could think of. That asshole was such a phony too. He'd act so chill and nice to people, but it was all a facade to hide his cunty side. I grew frustrated just thinking about him.

I began to feel a hot tear slide down my face, my sister would have tried defending him, she was so sweet, she hated when he and I would fight. Always breaking it up and telling me how he wasnt worth it, and even though he's a jerk he was still our father. I was glad to have left him, hopefully I'd never have to see him again, I'd miss having a dad, but not him. I sniffled and a few more tears came down my face. I sat down on one of the ledges and looked out at the moon, it was so beautiful. I wish I could just live on the moon, carefree, peaceful, and quiet. Numb to everything. I wouldt have to live with these new feelings for this man I would never have. I began to cry more thinking about how dreadful my remaining years here at Hogwarts would be if these feelings did not resolve themselves. I want to blame my after for this, if he didnt leave me so damaged maybe I wouldn't be craving the affection and appreciation from this older man. I wiped my tears as they fell remembering the way he smelt, his smile, his hair, his eyes. They were so dark and held great sadness. I could tell he's been through a lot, but he was good at hiding it. I wiped the tears that still flooded down and looked up to the sky. "What do I do? How do I deal with this?" I asked no one, not expecting a direct response, but some sign at least. "Please. I'm not cut out for this type of thing. Why him? Of all the people here why him? What do I do!" I said as I let my frustration take over and began to cry harder, thinking of this beautiful man that I'd never get to touch and have, that I was growing such strong feelings for.

[mithrilwren]

Fanfic ask game for procrastinating on writing, which as of this week is actually accurate, since I’m finally writing again! (or, more specifically, editing what I wrote two months ago so I can get back to writing.)

Tagged by @essektheylyss! Thank you, this is exactly the kind of activity my brain needed tonight.

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

72! I was hovering at 69 for quite a while, sad to break the streak haha

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

~550K, which is somehow both more and less than what I expected

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Many, lmao. According to my Ao3 (omitting any blanket tags) I’ve got 22 there, plus at least two more over on ff.net from back in the day, and probably a couple more just on Tumblr. Most of them I’ve only written one fic for, though. I think the only fandoms where I’ve written more than one are Critical Role (35), Supernatural (15), Haikyuu!! (3), The Exorcist (2), Dimension 20 (2), and Yu-Gi-Oh! (2)

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Pick a Number, Any Number

Surprisingly, my number one is NOT a Critical Role fic, nor is it even one of my longer multi-chapters! It’s actually a one-shot I wrote for Haikyuu!! back in the day that took off far beyond what I expected. I wrote it for DaiSuga week, which was a ship I (to be completely honest) wasn’t even terribly invested in, but I had a fun idea and people seemed to like it! (It’s also much fluffier than what I usually write, which might be part of its broader appeal ;))

A Winter’s Ball

Unsurprisingly, the next four are all CR ;). This one was a M9 x VM crossover that I primarily wrote between the hours of 3-8am over the course of two insomnia-wracked nights and honestly, I think it shows in its uncharacteristically unstructured format (compared to my typical style, which tends to favour shorter scenes with very intentionally-placed breaks between, as opposed to scenes that flow into each other without pause). That’s not to say I think it’s a bad thing! The story, which follows Beau as she drifts through a party in Whitestone and observes the interactions between the various guests, actually flows better without that kind of interruption. This was also my first Beaujester piece. I started writing it right before Beau’s confession aired, and published it the week after, which definitely pushed me to make what had been only subtextual in the first half of my draft into the emotional lynchpin of the story.

Only the Nightingale Sings

I’m really glad this one still ranks as high as it does, because this story is absolutely my pride and joy. At one time (though I’m not sure that’s true anymore) it was the longest gen fic in the fandom, which is pretty cool! Plot-heavy, twist-heavy, angst-heavy, with seven points of view to follow and multiple interwoven storylines, it was a beast of a thing to write, and took almost exactly a year to finish, but the long process was oh-so worth it. Literally nothing makes me happier today than seeing a new comment or kudos on this story.

Closer Still

One of my earliest shadowgast fics, this one asks the question “how can you make the ‘stuck in an elevator trope’ fantasy?” The answer is, as always, demiplanes. This fic, perhaps more than any of my other shadowgast fics, is interesting to revisit, because it was written before the ep 97 reveal, but literally everything Essek does in it would suggest otherwise. It reads like I already knew he was a spy working with Trent, and yet I was firmly in the “Essek is NOT the spy” camp at the time. Gotta chalk that up to Matt telegraphing his growing guilt into the preceding episodes - even if I couldn’t see it, it was clearly there.

your dust from mine

My other novel-length CR multichapter, this fic brought me so much joy in the otherwise bleak summer of 2020. Most of my best memories of those four months come from working on this story. A Fjorclay adaption of The Goose Girl (my favourite fairytale) this story is about healing, growth, and figuring out what happiness means to you. While I know most people don’t read stories for this pairing anymore, for obvious reasons, I still cherish your dust from mine for how much of my heart I poured into it, and I look back on it with a huge amount of fondness.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do my absolute best to respond to every comment someone leaves on a story of mine, even if it occasionally takes a month or two. Replying to comments is one of my favourite parts of the fic-writing process - it gives me a chance to revisit peoples’ kind words and (often, incredibly insightful) observations, and I hope it also shows how appreciative I am of each and every one. 

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Though I write a lot of angst, I honestly tend more towards bittersweet endings than straight-up sadness. The only one I can really think of is What You Own - mind the tags if you follow the link, this is definitely one of the gnarlier things I’ve written for CR - whose ending is, admittedly, bleak. But this story so far removed from canon that I don’t think it’s the kind of angsty ending that lingers with you, as much as it packs a punch and then lets you go on your way.

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I tend to enjoy thinking about crossovers moreso than actually writing them. I’ve brainstormed a few, but none have ever made it much farther than the first page.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

A few times! Not often, thankfully. Only one time in particular really sticks out to me, mostly for how it rocked my confidence in a way that I don’t think any comment could now, since I’ve had a few more years to build up faith in my own writing.

9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Very, very occasionally.

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not! 

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh man, back in the Glee days... yeah. Yeah, I have. Nothing that ever got published, though ;)

13) What’s your all time favourite ship?

Not sure I have one! Ships come and go with the seasons, and sometimes they’re best left in the era you found them.

14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The Shadowgast figure skating AU. It’s never going to happen, but I wish it had.

15) What are your writing strengths?

I would say probably structure, in terms of constructing narrative arcs and through-lines. I’m organized with my writing in a way that I am in few other areas of my life, haha. I’d also say my sense of place - I think I’m pretty good at constructing living, breathing settings and exploring how my characters interact affect/are affected by them.

16) What are your writing weaknesses?

I have a tendency to be wordy (which you might surmise from the length of this post, lol) and repeat myself, usually by going over emotional beats that don’t need the extra reinforcement. On the other hand, I tend to underexplain certain elements (particularly, important plot details in fic, and character motivation in original writing), which can lead to confusion.

A couple years ago I would have said dialogue, but I’ve put a lot of practice into it and I honestly think I’ve improved a lot, which is pretty cool!

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve never done it myself, and it’s not generally my favourite thing to read (like @essektheylyss said, it makes me hyper-aware that I’m reading words on a page, especially if I have to follow a footnote somewhere). That said, I’ve definitely also seen it used effectively, so I think it’s more down to whether it suits the particular story!

18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Yu-Gi-Oh!

19) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

As mentioned above, Only the Nightingale Sings.

[virgil-writes]

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (Heisenberg x OC)

on AO3: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven (ao3 only) | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen (ao3 only, smut) | chapter fourteen

chapter 14 - prince

SFW, around 4.7K words. Heisenberg is a man of absolutely no feelings I guarantee you

Heisenberg has never done this before, not in almost a hundred years of existence, this tangling of limbs and shirking of duties. He has never once given in to such base urges without careful thought and consideration, instead preferring his encounters planned, short and sweet, in and out before anyone could get attached. He racks his brains looking for things to say once she is awake, for ways to tell her that this means nothing and that they will go back to being flirty acquaintances who spoke to each other in riddles. He digs deep into his thoughts to bury his feelings, refuses to acknowledge their existence long before they can rear their ugly heads. He breathes in, eyes closed, to gather his confidence, to build his persona like he did with the dawn of each new day. Whoever Karl Heisenberg truly was, truly wanted to be, he died every morning and was replaced by a driven, heartless monster.

She was a smart woman, she would get the hint. He will unwrap her arms from his torso, put his clothes back on and make some stupid comment about how she had a pair of tits to die for, but he had already been far too generous by gracing her with his presence this long. Then he will smirk and exit stage left, hold the mask until he is out of sight and has entered the forest, and will finally be done with the theatrics. Perfect plan, until his breath catches in his throat when she first stirs, fingers sleepily caressing his chest like she did the night before. He curses her for never making things easy on him.

She seems confused as she pulls away from him, her lazy stretch reminding him of a cat after a long nap. Her face has softened some, the usual furrow of her brow relaxed, deviant smile replaced with one of pure serenity, like a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. “Good morning, my lord,” she greets as she rubs sleep away from her eyes, and he is glad to notice her tone has changed, away from the throes of their passion and back to the casual nonchalance they had become used to treating each other with. “Did you sleep well?” He has no intentions of answering and she does not expect it, either, slides off the couch to gather their clothing scattered about. She hands him his without looking at him, dresses in silence as he does the same. The silence is tense but not awkward, like they were both content to ignore the existence of the other and of everything that had happened between them just hours prior. “Are you staying for breakfast?” The implication that she did not expect him to is crystal clear. If there was any hope of staying longer in his mind, she had quelled it quickly with that question, like she was done with him for the day, perhaps enough to last her a lifetime. It stings, but he is glad for it.

Heisenberg busies himself with putting his clothes back on - whoever’s clothes those were in the first place -, oblivious to her pacing around the house. He believes he is out of the woods and her reserves of kindness have run dry, only to lift his head and find her holding a basket with a loaf of bread in one hand and his trench coat in the other. From afar he can see it looks ten times better than it did when he walked in wearing it, cleaner, for one, holes stitched back together. He doesn’t stay and she sees him off with the same joy she has always shown him, watching him as he grabs the trench coat and food, then his hat from a hook next to the door, waving him away like she has done every time. They sign an unspoken contract that dictates they never speak of it again, though the fine print reads that it is not off the table and might once again come to pass if the opportunity ever presents itself. His journey back to the factory is quiet and uneventful in more ways than one, the forest sleeps away the early hours of the morning and his mind is void of thoughts and worries. He cannot help but notice that the world feels different, brighter, more vibrant even, the wind not hostile and instead a gentle breeze.

Heisenberg seems enveloped in a mist of cheer and placidness for the days that follow, all he has set in motion moving along like clockwork. Sturm awakens unbidden one night, for good this time, both a blessing and a curse upon him. He manages to study its performance and sketch improvements, however finds that he has forgotten to install an off switch on the damn creature. The freak hums and whirs night and day like it is singing him the song of its people, sometimes joyfully, sometimes in mourning, and that he is able to identify when the fucking thing is happy or sad is a clear indication that he has been listening to it for far too long. A stab of guilt hits him every time he yells down towards the bowels of the factory to tell the monster to shut it, he needs to work and the noise is maddening, but he is always reminded that he is the reason for it all, he has bestowed them all with a new lease of life and now has to deal with the consequences. This is all for a good cause, he reassures himself, and once the rebellion is over he will see to it personally that those who remain are given a humane dismantling and burial.

Every now and again he visits his little witch in the woods, when his days could have been better and he needs a pick-me-up. They never speak of the stormy night and the things they had done, not unlike he had planned, but speak of everything else, and they slowly climb the steps to an awkward friendship that is never truly allowed to blossom. It felt as if every time they would give each other a key, an intricately designed, golden key that would open the lock in their hearts. And every time one would try to open it, they would find yet another, stronger lock, closer to the end but not quite, mystery maintained. It was infuriating and addicting all at once, and he had grown quite fond of the back and forth that had become the most exciting part of his life.

Happiness is a drug that he should not indulge on, he decides. Amidst his work he plans something other than rebellion, other than murder. Sketches something other than machines, looks out the window on the top floor of the factory to daydream about the cabin that stood long abandoned at the edge of his land. It was large for a home in this ass-end of the world, two floors and an attic, a cellar that was used for coal storage and doubled as secret entrance to a tunnel connecting the house and the factory. A fenced garden in the backyard, a shed for tools and firewood. The outhouse was awkwardly placed, too close to the edge, but he had always thought it gave it some extra charm. Answer nature’s call while being dangerously close to it, as it were. The masonry oven outside had not been used for at least half a century, and the well had probably dried up by now. It had been his home for many years, before Miranda took away everything that was theirs and his life with it, before he began dedicating his life to rebellion and dreams of freedom. His room was the one at the end of the corridor upstairs, with a view of the river and the forest extending beyond the confines of the village. It was cramped and cold, a single floorboard always rattled during the night when the wind hit it, the window never fully closed and his father never bothered to fix it. Still, it was home, or it had been, and he sometimes found himself thinking of the good memories he’d had before it all went to shit.

Could it be home again, he wondered? It would be one hell of a spring project, between clearing the debris, dusting and fixing everything up. Nails and the corrugated metal roof would not be a problem, naturally, and the stonework of the first floor was still intact. But he hadn’t fixed a fence in many years, hadn’t sawed nor sanded a plank of wood in longer still. He had never been very good at cleaning anything except weapons and machines, and interior decorating was simply something that had never gone through his mind. It could be a home again, he mused as he brought the blowtorch close to his face to light his cigar, and maybe it would do him good to step away from the damp vapors of the factory every once in a while. But then again, would it be worth the effort and upkeep? He doubted the haulers would make good housekeepers, and he was content enough with his independent, bare, unkempt bachelor lifestyle. But those had never been his intentions, had they? A home but not for him, a home for her, right where he could see her, where he could walk a few minutes and knock on her door whenever.

All strictly professional, of course. She would be effectively isolated from the village and the outside world. Effectively isolated from everyone but him, and he could keep tabs on her and call upon her services when necessary. It was a proposal she would be dumb to refuse: a home easily three times bigger than the one she owned, a larger plot of land for her animals and garden, peace and quiet, access to the Duke for supplies, and even some fun every now and again if she played her cards right. There was also the matter that she would be… Safer, living so close to him, but that was of little importance. Naturally. It had only just occurred to him. He had not begun at that, no. He will give it some more thought over the next few weeks - neither of them would be going anywhere, now would they?

Mother calls him later that day to inform of a family meeting two weeks and a half away, to discuss usual business. They will gather at Donna’s this time around, and it should give them all an opportunity to parade themselves to the public. This is important, you see, she begins like she always does, for their worshipers grow restless with their absence. Heisenberg often feels like she has trained the villagers as one would a dog: starve them for long enough and give them a meager treat to keep them going, teach them that their devotion is rewarded with small miracles brought by hellfire and the tearing of flesh by lycans. He has spent far too long away from the public eye and it is always good practice to remind the villagers of his splendor, she continues. He agrees to strut down main street, bless every crafter that he comes across, and kiss the top of the head of every snotty child pushed in his direction by their parents. He even agrees to wear his Sunday best: the same thing he wore every single day, but with a shiny pin in the shape of his house’s crest.

He conceives his greatest idea yet in the meantime, a soldier that combines the combat capabilities of Eins and Zwei with the mobility of an aircraft. He has Sturm to thank for it, the incessant spinning of the blades having given him the spark to try and create a flying machine. No propeller blades, he decides as the very first thing when he begins drawing the schematics. He has had enough of the noise to last him a good couple of decades. Unsurprisingly, he is caught in a trance of working and passing out and waking up to work some more in the weeks that follow, entire days spent combing through the scrap heaps to find the right materials. He is reminded that the goddamn bed had done wonders for his back every time he deadlifts another engine to pick apart, but still refuses to say goodbye to his uncomfortable armchair and the wonderful massage of its loose springs.

He figures the name for it will strike him at the right moment, and for now focuses on adjusting the thrust speed, ensuring the soldier will land adequately and not simply crash while airborne, as funny as that would look. While Sturm required a sturdy specimen, this will need someone lighter, lankier, and he finds the perfect specimen in Miranda’s latest failed experiment, a young boy of some twenty years who had been orphaned long ago and had turned to the Black God for guidance. In truth, he was nothing more than an errand boy for Mother, bringing messages to and fro, collecting tithe and offerings for her. Heisenberg is curious to know what horrible sin has led him to where he is now, dead and open on his operating table, a wound bigger than his fist where the top of his spine should be. Cadou had begun to take hold when he passed, tendrils shooting out of the infection, and he saved the recently dead nematode for further study later.

Removing the organs is always the messiest part, and he drops armfuls of guts into a nearby bucket to discard later. The boy has broken ribs and is missing his heart, a sign that he had greatly felt Mother’s wrath. Heisenberg almost pities him, alone in the world with nothing but his faith to keep him going, but sooner or later he would have to learn that was the way of the world. It had worked just fine for him, painful but invaluable. He had played the cards he had been dealt and come out on top. Perhaps in another life he would have reached out to give the kid a hand, take him in and give him a job, so long as he stayed out of his way and kept his mouth shut. But then again, perhaps in another life circumstances would not have turned him to a ruthless bastard only out for himself.

Setting up the tubing always takes the longest, delicate work that requires his full attention and steady hands. It feels like fighting an octopus at the best of times, and it is a fight he does not always win. He blows away a hair strand that insists on obscuring his vision, but all he succeeds in is having more of it fall onto his face, beads of sweat also finding their way down his forehead to pool on his brow and slide onto his eyelashes. He wishes he had an assistant every time he does this, every time he pulls a corpse open and finds that his body seems to get in the way every time more than the dead one does. He wishes he had an assistant, remembers the offer he never made her, and regrets it an instant later.

Suddenly his mind has wandered away from his subject on the operating table and has wandered off into a fantasy world, where his little witch gently pulls his hair back to tie it securely away from his face, where she dabs away the sweat on his face with a cloth that smells of wildflowers. She stands patiently next to him, takes notes and follows orders, brings him refreshments and even gives his shoulders a good rub when she feels he has been working too hard. A world where she awaits him every night after a long day, where she greets him with the comfort of home and a hearty meal. His focus is lost from that moment onward, for he is taken with the need to see her, to spend time sitting quietly beside her near the fireplace. To hold her and watch her fall asleep in his arms, to hear her laughter and exchange glib lines with her after dinner.

Goddamn witch.

The poor boy suffers the brunt of his annoyance when Heisenberg punches the side of his ribs, the body resists but does not complain and helps none with doing away with his wishes. What was he thinking, losing sight of his goals because he wants his cock sucked? This is why it was always so much better to stay indoors, to kill such annoying roaches on sight. His carefully constructed mental balance has tumbled, his nirvana disturbed. He was doing just fine before she decided to kill some random lycan and forgot to hide the fucking body. Bored, but just fine. Lonely, but fine. Incredibly depressed, but f-i-n-e. He tries in vain to return to his work once, twice, and gives up on the third time, finally accepting that it would be impossible.

Perhaps it is best if he gets it over with, no? This was but a momentary stumble. He had all but forgotten about her for the better part of a fortnight, having instead turned inward towards his work and growing his intel network by skulking around and reading through papers Miranda had ‘lost’ in transport. Just as quickly as he had latched onto her, he had let her go, back to the hum-drum day to day of developing his metal army.

Or so he thought, faced now with a burning need to walk, almost run towards the forest to catch a glimpse of her again.

He looks down at himself, for the first time conscious of how presentable he was, and decides that it is probably best if he wears something that is not covered in rotting chunks of flesh. Somehow he does not think she will mind it; she strikes him as the kind of woman who would think it adds to his charm. He changes into cleaner clothes regardless, the same moss-colored shirt she had given him the day he showed up at her cabin. An idea shines upon him as he tightens his shoelaces, and he is soon giving orders over the comm system to all haulers: clean the damn place up. Throw the garbage up and over the railings onto the scrapheap, hide it under a carpet, it doesn’t matter. He wants the place presentable enough for him to bring his little witch over - he will tell her a little bit of what he intends, he will show her some of his plans, and he will ask her to work for him. The cabin would take a while but she could always drop by for a visit. All that he has decided in the span of less than a minute, and he hopes there will be enough time for everything to be set up when he makes his way back, holding her hand tightly as he shows her all of the wonders he has created. He also hopes he can keep up the momentum and not soil the plan by chickening out a while later, though something in his mind tells him that might be best.

Heisenberg stops in front of a mirror-like metal plate to check out his hair and wipe the blood of his face, at last satisfied with his appearance and ready to make his next move. He almost skips through the factory on his way up and out of the garage. He is getting laid tonight, goddamn it.

He is surprised to find the Duke’s carriage standing just outside. It must be a Tuesday, though he feels like he last saw the man yesterday; the merchant always completed his regular schedule around the village by making a last stop near - and in - his humble abode. He had much to discuss with the Duke, things of both professional and personal nature, but now was not the time, and he walked by briskly and greeted the man with a tip of his hat, intent on simply passing by.

He knows something has gone terribly wrong when the Duke cackles, and he spots the familiar tail wag of a furry hoofed animal beside the carriage. Heisenberg stops dead on his tracks then, a cold tingle running up his spine, his mouth dry. He stares at the man, mouth agape, trying to form his question but failing miserably. Had something happened? Had the Duke known about her all along? Had he done something to her? The Duke is the first to speak, his usual jolly self, oblivious or uncaring for the situation that has begun to unfold in front of him. “Ah, Lord Heisenberg! How’s the day find you?” There is a pregnant pause as Heisenberg looks at the merchant and back at the tiny goat that bleats at him incessantly, and the Duke roars in laughter, his massive frame shaking the entire carriage. “Oh, it seems the little one likes you! Two hundred lei and it is all yours, my lord. Should be quite the tasty dinner.”

Prince seems to understand its predicament, and cries ever louder, until it is all they both can hear and the sound almost drives him insane. “Where the fuck did you get it?” Is all he manages to say, his tone vicious, but the Duke does not seem to mind it. He looks around for any other signs of her, the dog, or the horse, a chicken, anything.

“My friend in the woods has sold it to me, of course. She no longer has any use for it where she is going, and thought it best to rehome it.” The merchant’s hand reaches out to pet the goat on the head and the whole carriage almost topples over with the weight.

“You know her.” It is not a question, and though there is much he needs to ask there is little he is able to process.

“Indeed. We have been friends for many years, her and I. Since she was a malnourished little girl living under Lady Heisenberg’s protection. Since long before you were born, my lord.” The man takes a long drag from his cigar as if to give Heisenberg enough time to go through his words, and he is glad for it, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. A hundred and something years, the mention of his grandmother’s name. “She has always been quite the ravaging beauty, however. Although I’m sure that has not escaped your notice.” He can hardly contain his exasperation, not at all used to the feeling that currently boils within him. If that man had ever touched her- “She is quite a talented healer, you see. For many years now she has supplied me with the most wonderful of concoctions.” As if to prove it, he lifts up a bottle of the antiseptic he has become so famous for, gives it a little shake and flashes Heisenberg a bright smile.

“She’s gone.” Again he doesn’t ask, simply repeats the information he has been given, and wishes he had his hammer close by to crush that smirk off the Duke’s face.

“Why yes, she has left, of course. It would not be the first time,” the merchant says with a shrug. “A free spirit she is, always has been. Off to find herself some excitement and adventure, I’m sure. I have told her many a time that the village life does not suit her,” he puts the bottle down and interlaces his fingers in front of him, resting on his enormous stomach. “Yet she has come back every time. Sweet, idealistic Morganna, always so kind for her own good.” In his confusion, Heisenberg realizes he has forgotten to breathe, and inhales sharply, blow after blow though he tries to recover, and the Duke is relentless. “Ah, that reminds me, she has left something for you.” He is no longer listening after the Duke’s mouth closes, far too stunned to process what is happening. The blond man hands him a small wooden box that smells like her, and Heisenberg does not care that he can see how much his hands are shaking as he pushes off the lid. He does his best to swallow the rage and the tears that well up in his eyes, the bittersweet thought that she had remembered him before she parted. The woolen slippers lay perfectly arranged inside the box. “If you wish to find her, I am sure she has not made it very far.” Heisenberg continues to stare down incredulously, and the Duke continues to yap like nothing has happened. He has tuned out completely by the time he closes the box again and raises his head to face the merchant. He might as well have been a shadow, disoriented as Heisenberg was, his face a misshaped blob in his eyes. There is no space for thoughts and he lets himself go instead, anger bubbling so close to the surface underneath his skin.

He grabs the goat before the Duke can protest, tucks it safely under his arm, box secured in the other as he marches back inside the barn and closes everything behind him. Gone? The way down is hazy and red, one foot after the other, instinct taking him through the halls and down elevators. Gone. He feels the haulers’ gazes upon him, and hopes they won’t dare showing vestiges of humanity now, or he will kill every last one and set fire to the corpses. The door to his quarters is kicked with entirely too much force and flies off its hinges, he places Prince gently on the floor in the last showing of kindness he would ever allow himself. Gone! The box is thrown across the room and shatters against the wall, tears in his eyes, a strangled cry coming out of him before he can stop himself.

“She’s gone.” He repeats and the words feel like sand in his mouth. He knows them to be true and it only serves to hurt him further. Behind his eyelids, she takes him by the hand and skips down the stairs ever onward towards the darkness, and he knows he is far too weak to stop it now. He has no tools to explain any of it, the crying and yelling and the way his body has slid against the wall and onto the floor like a puddle of muddy, gooey, revolting water. One last bit of control tells him that he should not care, that she is not important, that this is good, that he is free from her grasp. But its screeches are drowned in the uproar within him, and all he can think of is that she is gone and he misses her.

He is once again alone in the world and, for the first time, he knows what heartbreak feels like.

[ka-za-ri]

Obey Me wants to do Too Much and in an attempt to please the fans, it’s failing them instead.

Based on the post @1abbie7​ made regarding the common complaints players seem to have with OM and its choices as a game. I just wanted to put my two (very long) cents in while looking at OM as if it is the gacha game it truly wishes it was.

MAJOR DISCLAIMER: this post is based on my experiences and is not a reflection of the community as a whole. These are observations and personal thoughts and should be taken with a grain of salt. Also, please feel free to discuss or correct me if I have any of the information wrong. For reference, I’ve reached 5-3 in OM!, 9-2 in AL, and 6-17 in AK.

Now that we have that out of the way… ON TO WHAT I WANT TO SAY. Buckle in folks, I’m rambly and I have a lot to say. Obey Me! Has a lot of potential, and it’s a shame that a lot of things Solmare does are not helping it grow in a way that it could.

So this post is MOSTLY going to be comparing Obey Me!’s (OM) gacha and gaming experience with Azur Lane (AL)  and Arknights (AK) since I feel like both those games have a very good f2p model and don’t really have any PvP/Ranking system that affects the main gameplay. I will have other examples from other games that I’ve played before as well.

Ignoring any issues with storytelling and plot holes, since I feel like there are people who are much more qualified to speak upon that than I am, I’m just going to look at the more game and gacha experience.

EVENT SPACING, GAMEPLAY, STAMINA REFRESHES:

OM! As far as I know, is marketed as an Otome game with gacha and … Rhythm??? Game??? Elements? (I’m not quite sure how to even describe the ‘battle’ stages tbh) to break up the story stages. With the battle stages being the main way you can farm for materials to power up your cards, the bottlenecks that are built into the game are surprisingly super frustrating.

OM! Does not have an auto battle option, but it does make up for it by allowing you to sweep the stage once you’ve received 3 stars. This does make resource farming much quicker, but this also means that your stamina will disappear faster than ice in a desert. Coupled with the fact that the battle stages don’t really have much interaction or strategy for a good portion of the beginning of the game, there’s no real replay value in trying for older stages unless they have the resource you want to farm.

I guess I can let this pass since interaction isn’t what’s really marketed, but it IS important to keep your audience logging in and eager to play. At Level 40-ish, my current stamina cap is around 70. WIth the average stamina cost of a regular stage being 5 AP, and the hard stages being 8. This means you’ve got 14 normal stages and less than 10 hard stages in a full bar of stamina. Assuming I log in twice a day to get the bonus AP, that’s really not a lot of stamina to work with and just enough to maybe get through my dailies. 

Having that little stamina makes farming resources exceptionally difficult especially for the high requirements needed once you get about half-way through a devil tree. Add that to dealing with farming event points almost constantly, with your limited stamina pool, you’re pretty much forced to purchase extra stamina to meet the requirements to finish said events to get the rewards. Assuming you spend all of your daily Devil Point reward on Stamina, that’s only 180 stamina a day which makes for a really tight run IF you’re aiming to get everything in an event. 

ADDITIONALLY, this is also the fact that events and new lessons don’t seem to be announced prior to them dropping. Almost every gacha  game I’ve played before will give you a few days notice before an event drops whether it be via Social media or through in-game mail. This is to mainly generate excitement and allows players some time to prepare, whether it be hoarding what stamina refreshes they have or saving premium currency for gachas to hopefully get the chase card/unit that they’re looking for. Not being able to prepare makes it difficult to stay engaged considering you CONSTANTLY have to have resources/stamina to partake in all the events and you can’t plan accordingly.

AK announcing the current event two days prior to it starting in game and on twitter:

AL’s announcement on the 12th, almost a week prior to it starting. Maintenance was on the 17th when the game reset.. (In game notices update regularly and I don’t have a screenshot of what it would look like since maintenance has already passed.)

OM! basically giving people on twitter about 24 hours notice of a new event dropping followed by announcing that the new lessons are available on the day it drops:

I understand that OM! Devs may want to keep the new cards a surprise to players. If stats and skills played a more prominent role in the game, maybe there would be a better way to tease these events to build up hype. As of right now though, it feels like a surprise slap in the face to force players to purchase currency in order to maintain that stamina requirement. IF Solmare is adamant about having back-to-back events, at least provide players with a roadmap or a calendar so they can pick and choose what’s important to them.

Just… Don’t let it become like the FEH calendar…

Please, do not let it become like this.

In my opinion, it feels like OM! Has a bit of an identity crisis. It sorely wants to bank on the money making powers of a gacha game while also clinging to the claim that they’re an otome game revolving around the plot. It’s hard to really promote the plot when it’s locked behind a power requirement that a majority of players will not be able to reach.

With how difficult it is at the end game, players are most likely going to look for transcripts or screenshots of new lessons instead of playing the main storyline in order to save what little they have for the constant limited events. Either give the players time to recoup resources to prepare for your events so they can pull for all your new cards or lower the difficulty cap to give players the story you’re emphasizing so much. 

Tl;dr: back-to-back events will burn out players and not announcing them prior does not allow players to prepare resources, forcing them to drop money on the game. The amount of stamina it takes to complete an event AND level your cards does not make it f2p friendly.

GACHA RATES AND PITY SYSTEM:

Call me spoiled, but I feel like OM! ‘S banner rates are too low. Consider the following image for the current banner pool:

That’s a combined 1% to get your UR and that’s still not going to be guaranteed to get what you want. Consider the following rates from other games:

Azur Lane:

(Ultra Rare was a new rarity that was added with this new banner. Before that the highest rarity you could pull is a Super Rare)

Arknights: 

Fire Emblem Heroes: 

Final Fantasy Brave Exvius: War of the Visions

For a game that’s always introducing new cards, you’d think that OM! Would maybe consider raising those rates so people won’t be so heartbroken when they don’t have enough currency for a 10 pull. (Especially if they have been spending what Devil Points they have on stamina to complete event stages) Yes, a majority of banners have bigger pools and  the chance for a specific 6*/UR/SSR is ultimately lower; but considering in OM!, you have stories and characterization locked behind devilgrams connected to these cards, the rates are pitifully low. At least in the other games listed, the units/cards/operators/ships aren’t tied to stories. 

I will say, the pity system isn’t absolutely abysmal. Keep in mind though, this is based on the assumption that you’ve saved up for 100 pulls. Considering how difficult it is to save that much currency while being f2p 100 pulls per banner is a tall order and impossible without the help of goldie or somethin. The frequency of new cards along with the difficulty obtaining gacha currency creates an extremely predatory model of currency purchase. With no guarantee of when event banners will be rerun, you’re pretty SOL if you make it half way through this pity system and you’re sitting on shards you can’t use. 

Players will get tired of this model mega fast. Especially with these kinds of rates. Assuming that your luck is the worst on earth, you need 2,700 Devil Points to reach the pity breaker. That’s more than two packs worth of Devil Points. So we’re looking at over $160.00 USD to get a guaranteed UR. Seeing as new banners come what feels like every two weeks or so, you’re looking at over $300.00 USD a month JUST for the gacha. If OM! Was purely a gacha game without such a heavy emphasis on the characters and the stories/scenarios they unlock, I might be able to overlook it. However, since the cards themselves unlock cheats for events and outfits and devilgram scenarios, that’s a steep price to pay, so I kinda just have to say… Yikes.

Tl;Dr: For a game that has so much content tied to limited cards and events, gacha rates for OM! Feel too low. Pity system is average as long as you have the currency to complete all 100 pulls. The reason to purchase premium currency is predatory and likely will not be sustainable in the long run. 

MONTHLY PACKS AND PREMIUM CURRENCY

So, we can agree that if you don’t have some cash on hand, it’s not going to be a real fun time to play OM! So, where do you spend your money? Let’s take a look at what they offer in terms of premium currency and how far that will get you. It’s also almost 3AM here and I’m losing my patience and filter, so excuse me if I sound more angry here than in the rest of the post.

So, here’s the basic Devil Point Shop for reference: 

If we equate Devil Points to stamina, you’re looking at about 100 stamina per dollar you spend. But let’s be real, Solmare makes their money off of gacha and them pretty pngs ‘cause y’all want those spicy devilgrams and sweet outfits for your secretary.

To even get a 10 pull, you’re looking at $22.00 USD worth of premium currency. (Why they didn’t make the $19.99 pack a full 10 pull is BEYOND me tbh.) Now most gacha players that I know who are willing to go all in on a specific banner will want to spend a pack, which means they’ll go for the most expensive option as it is the most bang for your buck. That’s an $80.00 pack for approximately 4 10 pulls and some change. Let’s compare that to the price of some Originite Prime from AK: 

It takes approximately 33 OP for one 10 pull in AK. 1 OP = 180 Orundum (currency used for gacha) Keeping this in mind,  if you don’t count the first time purchase bonus, at first glance, it’s overall more expensive to purchase this currency SOLELY for gacha purposes.

Here are the packs offered for AL: 

If you’re using gems to purchase the cubes needed for the gacha, it takes about 600 gems for 1 10 pull. One pack will net you about 8 10 pulls. Out of all the models we’ve looked at, this is honestly the most value for your dollar specifically for gacha purposes.

Take into consideration what the premium currency is used for. As stated above, 1 DP = 10 stamina. 1 OP = 1 Full stamina refresh in AK, so that’s a pretty equivalent exchange rate. (I won’t go into the AL stamina and gacha system since it differs too much from OM! To really make a good comparison.)

But, what else can DP do? A quick glance under the “Items” tab in the shop, you’ll see that it can also purchase Keys to read your devilgram stories (integral to your gaming experience), Demon Vouchers for summoning, Glow Sticks to help you in battle (Integral to gameplay), and consumables for your Surprise Guests to raise intimacy (arguably connected to gameplay). Compare this to what you can purchase with your OP outside of summoning currency in AK: Furniture (cosmetic) and Skins (Cosmetic). That’s it. 

What I’m trying to say here is that Solmare has made DP the currency for so many things that affect the game itself. This subtly pressures the players to purchase DP in order to maintain the same quality of life that they might have experienced at the beginning of their gaming experience when the level ups came fast and when the rewards were plentiful for completing all the beginners quests.

“But wait!” you say. There’s ways to earn DP passively through dailies! You’re right! You’re given 18 DP per day for completing your dailies. That equates to 1 10 pull per 2 weeks if you’re diligent in keeping up with all your quests and log in daily. Comparatively, AK will give you 2,800 orundum per week for completing all your quests and the weekly annihilation runs, so just short of 1 full 10 pull in the game. However, AK gives you the specific currency used exclusively for gacha. This leaves your OP relatively free to be used for stamina refreshes, or you can hoard them for when new skins come out, or you can use a few to supplement your missing orundum for a banner pull.

Without knowing what could be coming up next in terms of events and banners, OM! Makes it very difficult for you to hold onto your DP due to the sheer stamina sink that events can be. Unless you’re really good at optimizing your resources, you’re likely going to be spending DP on things outside of gacha, making it difficult to save those 20 pulls in a month.

Tl:dr: DP is used for too many things that aid in gameplay which leaves less for gacha, forcing players to make a choice between moving forward in harder story stages or unlocking card specific stories.

Alright, but let’s say you don’t have enough for packs, but you still want to support a game. You don’t wanna whale ‘cause you got bills to pay, but maybe you’ve got enough to be a minnow or a very sad and small dolphin. For this, most people turn to those delicious monthly packs. Usually, the monthly packs or subscriptions are really a good bang for your buck. Usually, the bonuses that these packs provide will add up to a value that is much more than your initial investment in them. So, let’s look at what OM!, AK and AL offer, shall we? 

Let’s break down what the VIP gives you since there’s quite a bit and it’s presented in a less condensed format. So, at first glance, I have to ask… “VIP login bonus?” What does that even mean? When you look at the details the description is as follows:

I’m sorry, what? This vagueness will not help sell this pack to me. Most monthly packs will give you premium currency right away that is equivalent to the amount that you paid. You can see that both AK and AL list this and also let you know exactly what else you get for the next 30 days. There’s no vagueness in what these packs provide. 

Next thing to look at:

I’m sorry. What? I don’t understand why a max AP increase is the choice for a VIP perk here. This is banking on the fact that you’re going to be playing at max efficiency and will be under max stamina in order to take advantage of the refill timer giving you the extra AP. Why OM! Doesn’t just give you the stamina in your mail is beyond my comprehension. This is just saying “yeah, you could have more stamina if you’re playing this game and making sure you’re below your cap. I … no. Just why.

NEXT PERK: 

No. This is useless for higher level players. Perks should benefit all players, not just your new players that you’ve tricked into spending money ‘cause this pack is only $9.99 a month. I’m so angry at this I don’t want to look at this anymore. NEXT.

This is a fine perk. Paying for easier passive resources is fine. I don’t have anything to say.. Next.

Oh thank fuck. An actual good perk. Passively getting the harder to get resources which cuts down on your already limited farming? Hell yeah.  Also fine in my book. NEXT. 

“Spend money to spend more money! Because we know this monthly deal ain’t shit!” is all I’m getting out of this.

Finally, I need to talk about this: 

So… you’re telling me that for $10.00, I’m going to get $6.00 worth of DP and I won’t get the full value unless I STAY subscribed? If I cancel and then resubscribe, will that go back to 60 DP when I subscribe later? Why would you do this other than to give your players less than what they deserve? These packs are supposed to be designed to give you the value of your purchase and some extras as incentive to keep playing and coming back to pay. This just… as a first impression leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Also, let’s talk about the fact that you’re BILLED MONTHLY? Listen, I get that they’re trying to be ‘convenient’ so you can set this up and forget about it and reap the benefits, right? It’s about the same cost as a Netflix subscription, no big deal. But listen, that means they’re also banking on you to forget you even have this subscription if you’re a casual player and you’re going to continue to give them money Stop that Solmare. Bad.

I’m too tired to look at sales. Just as a quick glance. the discounts and deal are meh at best.

Tl:dr: Monthly pack is underwhelming and likely not worth it. Automatically being billed monthly is the worst thing I’ve seen all week and this was written in 2020. 

SOME SUGGESTIONS? IT’S NOT ALL BAD, I PROMISE.

So, how can Solmare improve? OM! Is honestly one of the most stylish otome games I’ve seen and has a lot of potential to continue growing its player base if the devs directed their energies in the right direction. Right now, OM! Suffers due to the fact that it’s trying to do too much in too little time. For a game that’s less than a year old, it’s pushed out enough content in the last three months to last six. Dialing back the gacha and collecting elements to focus on the story and a slower pace would really help, if you ask me. 

OM! Really needs to slow its roll. Events are losing their impact from being rolled out at such a quick pace on top of current pop quizzes, new lessons and banners. Every week I feel like I’m watching the more hardcore players yell at having too much to do when everything is layered on top of one another. This is not inherently a bad thing. Having a lot to do keeps the player base engaged and excited for your game.

The problem arises when you’re not giving your players any time to recover from events and just throw things at them all the time. Finding a good balance between events and downtime is difficult and it likely won’t happen overnight, but it would be nice to see them maybe give a week or two to really let the impact of events sink in and let players really find time to nurture or use the new cards/rewards they just got.

First step in the right direction would be giving more notice prior to events and lessons. Just something more than 24 hours before, or the day of. Not providing a notice makes it feel like these things are being rushed. 

If Solmare is adamant about keeping the pace it’s set up, then give us a roadmap or event calendar of when new lessons or pop quizzes are coming. They can keep the details of the lessons and quizzes limited until closer to the actual dates, but at least this will let players prioritize where they want to put their resources.

Gacha rates for URs being raised to 2% would likely make a reasonable difference. When so much story and cosmetic content is tied to a UR or SSR cards along with their frequency, it serves to likely benefit them to make it more accessible to players. Locking so much behind luck and a paywall makes it more obvious that they only care about the money that they can get from the diehard collectors in the game.

Make skins obtainable by DP. Stop locking them behind event cards. Allow players to have easier access to cosmetic features. It’s a less predatory model than what they’ve got right now. Granted, Lonely Devil has sort of helped this issue considering they’ve grouped event reruns all in one place to play at your leisure, and if I remember some of the event cards have skins tied to them. Still, just… idk sell the skin on its own. It makes more sense than to pray that you roll that UR with the one 10 pull you have. 

Make resources easier to obtain passively. I’m sure I sound like a broken record, but limited resources make this game difficult to enjoy. You’re barely through doing one thing to level up a card and you’re met with a giant wall of requirements for the next step. AL has commissions and the dorm, AK has the base. OM! Has Jobs, which gets you grimm and some items if you’re lucky, but it definitely needs expansion considering the power checkpoints late game.

Hell, just making some of those DP purchasable items actually farmable might help.

Get a publisher to work with you. I know Solmare has been around the block and this isn’t the first otome game they’ve made, but I definitely think working with a publisher who’s familiar with the ins and outs of a proper gacha helping them will benefit them. Having a publisher will help ensure that there’s adequate funding for the game to be as good as it can be. Not only that, you’re looking at a better social media presence which the player base can interact with and get more attached to.

 Literally, having a publisher could solve so many pacing and announcement issues since they would be in charge of when events come out and likely has a better eye on how players react. This way, Solmare can concentrate on making the content as quality as they can and not inundate people with a new lesson or event as soon as it’s done.

Tl:dr: Solmare, please get a proper publisher so they can help with quality control and balancing your game. Please. I’m begging you. You have so much going for you please don’t let this game die before it turns a year old.

Ok. it’s 4 AM and I spent most of the day writing this post. If you’ve made it this far, congrats and I’m sorry for being so rambly. I’m so sorry if none of this made any sense in the end.  I’m sure there are points that I’ve missed out on like stage replayability and a more engaging battle mode, and the lack of any sort of meta which makes the lower rarity cards you pull feel completely useless…  but uh… I can’t think anymore and I haven’t had time to farm in my horny ship girl game. Feel free to let me know your thoughts or discuss! 

Thanks for your time and I hope y’all have a good day. Happy romancing some demon boys!

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #115: Sakata Kintoki (Rider)

This time on “Fate and Phantasms”: We’re always trying to make the best build possible. Little do we know that we’re about to face our greatest challenge yet: building a goddamn motorcycle. Join us as we build: Sakata Kintoki (Rider)!

(As usual, his build breakdown is below the cut, or you can check out his character sheet over here!)

Next up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8WvSGNEV24

Race and Background

Yes, we’re still doing that bit from the first time. This means Kintoki’s still a Golden Dragonborn, gaining +2 Strength and +1 Charisma. This also gives you a fiery Breath Weapon once per short rest and Fire Resistance. That’s not very in character, but you’re gold, and that’s good enough!

As a motorcycle delinquent/Kamen Rider expy, you’re a Folk Hero, giving you proficiency with Animal Handling and Survival. You can literally talk to animals. Handling them shouldn’t be an issue.

Ability Scores

You’re pretty strong, which is probably why your Strength should be as high as possible. Your preferred method of fighting is crashing into people with your motorcycle, so your Constitution should be pretty high as well. Third is Charisma- bad boys are in these days. Your wisdom isn’t that bad, we’ll need it for multiclassing and also you know animals well enough to speak to them. Your Dexterity isn’t great; despite wearing leather armor, your main defense is your bike being faster than the enemies. Finally, we’re dumping Intelligence. Changing classes didn’t turn you into a professor.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: Getting your ride is our top priority, but that’ll take a couple levels. In the meantime we should make sure you’re at least a bit competent off the bike. Your fighting style is Unarmed Fighting, giving your unarmed strikes more power and letting you deal damage by grappling. I’d think grappling someone and running your bike would already deal damage, but now it’s RAW. You can also use your bonus action to gain a Second Wind for a smoke break.

You also get proficiency with Strength and Constitution saves, as well as Intimidation and Athletics. Bikers are scary, man.

2. Bard 1: Okay, now we can get that bike. If you want justification for the class, you did mistake the Rider class for Kamen Rider, so there you go. You’re powered by Saturday morning kid’s shows.

Becoming a bard gives you one skill proficiency of your choice- I’m gonna say Insight. You look like you can read the room pretty well. You can also cast Spells using your Charisma, and you can give Bardic Inspiration to another creature as a bonus action a number of times per long rest equal to your charisma modifier. This is a d6 that the creature can add to an attack roll, skill check, or saving throw within the next ten minutes. You’re a nice guy like that.

This Kintoki’s a bit more thunder than lightning, so for your spells grab Thunderclap and Thunderwave to stay on brand, Friends and Animal Friendship to talk to squirrels, and Heroism and Longstrider to protect your wheels and give them a nitro boost.

3. Bard 2: Second level bards are Jacks of All Trades, giving you half your proficiency bonus on any skill check you’re not proficient in. This includes initiative, so even with your +0 dexterity modifier you can be a bit faster out the gate. You also gain a Song of Rest for extra healing over short rests if you like that sort of thing.

Also you can Speak with Animals now, so they can tell you how much faster you are than them.

4. Bard 3: Time to make some golden creations! As a Creation bard, you’ll find your inspiration dice are a bit more golden thanks to your Note of Potential, gaining extra effects. If used on an ability check they can roll twice and take the higher number, on an attack roll they force an constitution save (DC 8 plus your proficiency plus your charisma modifier) or creatures around them take thunder damage, and if used on a saving throw the creature gains a bit of temporary HP. 

The bigger draw this level, however, is the Performance of Creation. As an action, you can create a medium or smaller item worth less than 20 times your bard level in GP. It lasts a number of hours equal to your proficiency bonus, and you can use this once per long rest, or by burning a second level spell slot to use it again. It’s not enough to make a motorcycle just yet, but you can at least make that cool belt buckle.

Finally, you get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency bonus. I’d go with Athletics and Animal Handling. You’ll need some lower body strength to hang onto your bike while fighting.

You can also cast second level spells now, like Enhance Ability to give a creature advantage on a kind of skill check. Give yourself a constitution boost to help with those Thousand Mile Drives.

5. Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to round out your Strength and bring your Wisdom up to multiclassing minimums.

You can also cast Mending for another way to fix up your bike, or Shatter to break everything else.

6. Bard 5: At fifth level your inspiration becomes d8s, and you become a Font of Inspiration. This means you regain inspiration dice on short rests as well as long ones.

To celebrate, you learn how to put on a proper tokukatsu Motivational Speech from Acquisitions Incorporated, giving up to five creatures temporary hit points, advantage on wisdom saves, and advantage on its next attacks after its hit. The spell ends on a creature once the hit points are removed, otherwise it lasts for an hour.

7. Bard 6: Now we’re cooking! Now you can finally use an Animating Performance to make your motorcycle, a large Dancing Item. The item stays dancing for an hour, and you can use your bonus action to command it. You can animate an object once per long rest, or by burning a 3rd level spell slot to do it again. Plus, your Performance of Creation can make large items now, so a motorcycle is totally on the table!

The movement speed on a dancing item’s only 30′ which isn’t ideal, but on the plus side your bike can fly, so... I’d say it balances out the cool factor.

Sadly bards don’t get Haste, but if we can’t speed up your bike, at least we can Slow down your enemies.

Oh yeah, you also get Countercharm, spend an action to give allies advantage against being charmed or frightened, not really great but you can always use it for an “I know you’re in there” fight.

8. Fighter 2: Now that that detour’s out of the way, we can get back to fighting. Second level fighters get an Action Surge, tacking an extra action onto your turn once per short rest. Cast two spells, multitask with healing and hitting, or just hit people over and over again. It’s pretty versatile.

9. Fighter 3: Cavaliers get an extra skill proficiency, and Performance will really help you sell your Kintoki action figures. You’re also Born to the Seat, giving you advantage against falling off your mount and mounting/dismounting your cycle only costs 5′ of movement.

As a hero of justice, you can also apply an Unwavering Mark to a creature when you hit them that lasts until the end of your next turn. If the marked creature is within 5′, it will have trouble hitting other creatures, and if it still does you can make a special attack against the creature next turn as a bonus action. The attack has advantage, and deals extra damage as well. You can make these attacks a number of times per long rest equal to your strength modifier.

10. Fighter 4: Speaking of advantage and being good at riding things, use this ASI to become a Mounted Combatant, giving you advantage on attacks against creatures smaller than your mount, the ability to redirect attacks to you instead of your mount, and giving your mount evasion, meaning it takes half damage on a failed dexterity save and no damage on a success.

11. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an extra attack each attack action. It’s not very complicated, but it is very useful.

12. Cleric 1: Your dad’s a god, you get more thunder powers. As a cleric, you can cast and prepare spells using your Wisdom. As a Tempest Cleric, you can channel the Wrath of the Storm. When a creature within melee range hits you with an attack, you can react to blast lightning or thunder back at them with a dexterity save attached. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your Wisdom modifier. (So if you’re using the standard array, once.)

You can also cast Thaumaturgy for more dramatic entrances, Resistance so you’ll wipe out less often, and Light because every motorcycle needs a headlight. You can also kick up some dust with your domain spells, Fog Cloud and Thunderwave. You already have a better thunderwave from your bard levels, but hey why not be redundant. 

13. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can Channel Divinity in two ways. You can either Turn Undead to make walking corpses into running... away from you... corpses... (not my best work), or you can channel it into Destructive Wrath, allowing you to deal maximum damage when you deal lightning or thunder damage. Your spells are pretty low level, so the extra efficiency is appreciated. You can use this once per short rest, or you can burn your channel divinity use to Harness Divine Power, refilling a spell slot that’s less than half your proficiency modifier as a bonus action.

14. Fighter 6: Use your next ASI to boost your Charisma for stronger spells and more inspiration.

15. Fighter 7: As a more seasoned cavalier, you could react to add a bonus to a nearby allie’s AC when they’re being attacked a number of times per long rest equal to your Constitution modifier. You could, but unfortunately Warding Maneuver requires a melee weapon or shield, and you do things barehanded.

16. Fighter 8: If your hands are going to cause you this much trouble, they’d better be good at their job. Use this ASI to max out your Strength so they’re great at their job.

17. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting you re-roll a failed save once per long rest. You probably shouldn’t use this on your intelligence saves, you’re not making those either way.

18. Fighter 10: Tenth level cavaliers actually get something we can use, the ability to Hold the Line. This means your opportunity attacks can activate on a creature moving within your reach, and they also reduce the target’s speed to 0 on hit. A good hero keeps the villains focused on them.

19. Fighter 11: We’re almost done, but first you get another Extra Attack for even more punching goodness.

20. Fighter 12: Use your capstone ASI for more Constitution to get more HP and better concentration. You only have so many spells, you’ve got to make the most of them.

Pros:

Thanks to Animating Performance, you can literally make your motorcycle out of anything, as long as its large enough to ride. It also means you’ve got a flying bike, though if you want to keep it closer to canon you could flavor it as having the ability to ride up walls.

You can deal very consistent damage thanks to your high number of attacks and free advantage from mounting your bike. You’re also able to make your limited spell slots count, maximizing their damage with channel divinity.

Your skills as a cavalier make you good at getting enemies’ attention and keeping it away from squishier party members. Mix in a bit of healing from your cleric levels, and you can be a surprisingly good tank in a pinch.

Cons: 

You like to ride on things, and you also use a lot of spells with indiscriminate damage. That’s not a good combination, especially since your bike is a construct.

Having, at best, a leather jacket and a +0 to dexterity means your AC is pretty low. Your best defense is not being near the enemy when they get a chance to hit back.

Having to command your bike eats up all your bonus actions, meaning you’ll have to chose between using your unwavering mark or riding.