#i might add more to this if i forgot about some details

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Naegamigiri/Naegirigami/Tonaegiri/FOOD BE LIKE

I think it's time I compile all my little food headcanons for these three. Like, they've been sporadically mentioned but they deserve to be mentioned in full together. These will mostly just be the things they like with a small bit of the things they hate and how that effects their relationship from time to time. Now. Makoto eating carrot.

Makoto eats them like a rabbit. Makoto is just a rabbit.

It's factual. Okay. I'm mostly kidding but I find this cute. Also small tangent, I'm imagining him running around excited doing things like helping others out or he's just enthusiastic to do something and Kyoko and Byakuya just looking at him. Meanwhile, they're both just imagining a rabbit with the zoomies. Now, tangent over! Back to carrots! Byakuya does not like that Makoto eats carrots straight from the source like that. The heathen. He just can't stand it! It is a pet peeve of his and he judges Makoto immensely for it. Makoto doesn't care as much as he used to though. He used to feel a bit guilty about making Byakuya upset about this but, damn it, he's finally eating vegetables after just eating meat, cheese, and dash of potatoes! He's living the high life now! So, suck it, Byakuya!

Another thing for Makoto specifically is that he likes the pasta. His go to is ramen but his horizons have been expanded because of Byakuya showing him other foods as a ploy to get him to stop eating ramen. Like, Byakuya and Kyoko love Makoto but they do not love ramen. They also love Makoto enough to wanna get him to eat other things. And, they succeeded! Makoto's still eating ramen though. Also, Makoto is a snacker. He snacks. He likes his crackers a lot and he either nibbles them like a little mouse are eats them in a single bite. There is no in-between. He also has a sweet tooth though Kyoko and Byakuya have one too though they either just hide it better or it's just lesser than Makoto's. It's a coin flip on that. For the other two, in regards of Kyoko, she likes her strawberries. Why? I dunno. This headcanon in specifics just spawned in one day and I'm just living with it now. BOOM! Old are I already posted! A blast from the past!

Here's the link to the older post by the way... Because why not. AHEM. Moving on though, she's not a big pasta person like Makoto. LIke, she's fine with some but it's mostly the lighter stuff. Thats the pasta she can enjoy though in smaller quantities. She's not a Carb King like Makoto though cus damn does Makoto like his freaking carbs. There's the pasta of course but he also likes his bread, potatoes, definitely rice. Honestly a lot of grains and starchy foods. Though, back to Kyoko, though she mostly eats lighter foods like fish and also salads too. She enjoys salads though and doesn't mind the croutons if they're actually fine. See! She still eats SOME carbs. Makoto just makes her look like a bread and pasta hater in comparison though when she's mostly just indifferent and just doesn't like ramen. Byakuya's also a fish person too and prefers lighter foods. Not as much as Kyoko since he can enjoy a less light meal and isn't a pasta hater like Kyoko/hj After all, he IS the one responsible for Makoto liking other pastas now which Kyoko teases him for "being all his fault" since Makoto is the pasta whore and he cannot be stopped. Another thing Byakuya likes is his sour dough bread. He's fine with garlic bread too. Because reasons. He's also the vegetable man. Not for everything but he's fine with them. Kyoko and Makoto are more of the fruit people. Though, all of them are fruits ;) All three of them can agree on one thing though. Curry good. They like curry. They all eat their own differently like Makoto liking his curry with a lot of potatoes and Kyoko liking her curry with a thinner broth and also the factor of them having different spice tolerances (Kyoko's at the top, Byakuya's in the middle, Makoto's at the end though they don't have the most insane tolerance to spice though it's definitely up there. Makoto's average though) However, they like their curry and also experiment with different types of curry too together. Cus bonding via curry! It's beautiful.

Also, now I'm just imagining a joke about curry being the glue that keeps them together. Which obviously isn't true. There are other things that keep these three as a unit. But, it's still a silly prospect!

Some other miscellaneous headcanons I have is that Kyoko and Byakuya are hummus girlies. They like their hummus and Makoto just doesn't get it. They both aren't condiments people either. That's Makoto mostly but he's not insane about it. Makoto's the guy who likes his ketchup though. Byakuya hates ketchup. Kyoko's fine with mustard though is not crazy about it. She'll use some condiments from time to time. Byakuya using condiments is rare though.

[non-un-topo]

More clothing studies, this time from my fic Axis. I was aiming for authenticity while also trying to have each of their personalities show a little bit in their clothing choices. Two for Nicky, to show his layers.

[splickedylit]

i think. it's been too long since I drew something.

[icewindandboringhorror]

The evil slow creep of it being like "haha these will just be quick little side quests, not much effort at all!" and then noticing each one is getting progressively longer than the last, thus no longer being minimal effort.. auGh....

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley with a Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Headcanons and Scenarios

Am I back with baby fever? I mean yeah but this is less baby fever and more if Husband!Simon in honor of my first ever post that reached 1k likes in 4 days. Also you guys know Ghostie by now right? @connorsui mentioned that she wonders how Ghost and the reader met, guess who's writing about that?

Edit: SHIT, THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR SO LONG AND I FORGOT TO ADD CREDIT, I'M SO SORRY. The render above is by @ave661

Taglist: @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @theredurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb

Also @puff0o0, my most favorite moot has helped me come up with how they met, UGH ILYYY <333

My CoD Masterlist <3

Warnings/Disclaimers: Reader is pregnant, sick!Reader, mentions of vomiting (not detailed), pain of birth and all the other pregnancy warnings out there. (Extreme fluff)

❥ Husband!Simon who had no fucking clue how to react when you first told him you got pregnant, I mean he knew at some point it would happen but not this soon?!

❥ Husband!Simon who in your early stages of pregnancy was the one holding your hair up while you empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet most mornings. He was the one who had a warm hand gently rubbing up and down your back while mumbling light encouragements, careful not to agitate you from the sickening feeling.

❥ Husband!Simon who was gradually getting the hang of things, getting clingier the further into the pregnancy. Once the baby bump comes in, bye bye personal space, Dad!Simon needs to have his hand on the bump no less than 10 times a day.

❥ Husband!Simon who is a sucker for kissing the baby bump, especially your stretch marks. He will be more gentle if you ask him to because your ticklish, but don't expect none of his stuble.

❥ Husband!Simon whose breath hitches when you took his large calloused hand onto your baby bump and felt movement, he had to blink twice up at you and look down again. Only now it was two hands holding the bump, waiting for more kicks.

❥ Husband!Simon who lets you do all the shopping with baby stuff because he has no idea what looks cute, every once in a while showing you something he thinks looks good and asks for your approval.

❥ Husband!Simon who looks back up at you in concern as he hears you whimper, as much as he wants more movement and feel the little one kick, you were in pain and uncomfortable. Some soothing words might help..?

You let out a soft whimper as you felt the baby kick again, god did she have her father's strength..

Simon still had his warm and heavy hand on the bump, feeling the little one's movement.

"Pumpkin.. give your momma a rest, she needs some sleep" Simon sleepily mutters. Just like that the movement stops.

"I swear she only ever listens to your voice, it's obvious that she's already a daddy's girl"

❥ Husband!Simon who is more than obsessed with the baby bump, albeit his ear over the bump to hear the baby, big calloused hands always have to be some place on it. You'll just find your husband clinging onto your bump, his head on your chest while his arms are wrapped around the loves of his life.

❥ Husband!Simon who was far more panicked than you were during the birth, he literally cannot even pay attention to the pain of your hand almost breaking his from the gripping because his heart is pounding in his chest while you push out the baby.

❥ Husband!Dad!Simon who was trembling the moment you forced him to open up his arms so he could hold the baby. She's so tiny, her whole body almost fits in just one of his hands. The moment he held her, she stopped wailing, trying so hard to open her little eyes.

❥ Husband!Dad!Simon couldn't help but pull you up into his arms too because you couldn't move up from exhaustion. Your hand on the little one's body that was cradled by her dad, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders while he kissed your sweaty forehead, singing praises to you about how thankful he is that you brought life to your little girl together.

A/n: Hi guys, just to start off. I haven't been in a good space for a while now, I don't think I'm in the right headspace either. Not to say I'm taking a break, fuck no, I'd lose all my relevance if I did and I also think that taking a break from this won't be good for me or you guys because I don't want history to repeat itself.

If you guys don't know yet, I've been on the break in 2020 and didn't officially start writing again till 2023, finally entering a different fandom. I feel like taking a break would result into this whole thing again and I can't go through that all over again. I love writing so much and it hurt when I lost all my relevance on Wattpad.

My personal life outside of Tumblr is weird to explain, see things haven't been good regarding my situation with a friend. Neither do I feel good in school, everything in that place just sucks except for two other closer friends. There's still the dreadful 3 weeks left till Christmas vacation. Not only that but I get anxiety over so many things that may be little to most of you.

A mutual of mine so graciously has given me ideas for the next Ghostie posts, I love them, it's accurate and it's great and all however some part of me makes me feel so insignificant. Like why didn't I think of that? Why am I even writing if I'm just relying on other people's ideas? This is no shade to that mutual, thank you so much, hell I loved everything they told me. It's just always my anxiety and insecurities getting the better of me.

Apologies for the length of this. I'm quite busy and my clumsy fingers accidentally published something again 😭Anyway, more Ghostie content is on it's way :))

[jetpackgeneratedcat]

It took literal months, but I finished it!!

Top left: linked universe logo

The jojo's lu logo is sooooo detailed. It is one of the things I love about Jojo's asethetic with linked universe. The detail she adds brings so much life and information about the world of Linked Universe. Great example is all the embroidery on the chain's clothing. Let's you know about civilization, that an item may be magical, etc. It is difficult to keep small details in watercolor, but I think I caught most of the main details in the painting.

Middle left: Soulful legend

This was the fourth of the images I did for the painting, and the first image I really started to get into the painting. I think legend is my favorite to paint because he makes composition so easy. The red tunic adds an easy focal point. I did learn from this that I do not like masking fluid and likely won't use it again. It added to many hard edges that I wasn't intending. Very happy with the sky!

Bottom left: Evening snack

In this image, I liked the idea that wind and sky don't know what Ramen is because their worlds don't have enough space to produce wheat. So sky and wind are super excited about this new food, while legend has no idea why they are so hyped for noodles. I also liked the idea that four found a green pepper in the ramen as a topping and is a hater (this is from a note that jojo left somewhere saying that the chain will eat anything but four in the Manga does not like green peppers, idk where this note is to link it though....). I didn't end up drawing the Ramen noodles as it was just getting too small of a scale for me to be comfortable drawing the thin lines for the noodles in.

Bottom right: Testudo

I am very hyped in the future when we see more collaborative fighting with the chain and them working together effectively. I absolutely love the scene in shifting shadows part 3 where lenged and hyrule work together with the beam and hookshot.

Middle: Legends storage

This is a reference to one of jojo's earliest works where the chain goes to legends storage for him to pick up some gear. I love that scene and I tried to put as many references as I could. The one thing I need to figure out is how I want twilight to look. I can't wrap my head around it. Need to sit down and just try out a bunch of different faces for him. My Pinterest inspo for twilight is all over the place. I want twilight to look different from time because when Malon was trying to guess who was the descendent, she did not consider twilight (she looked at wars and wind (so I typically draw time, wind, and wars looking similar). For my own personal headcannon, twilight and time are very similar in their manner (the way the walk, stand, etc) and personality (their stubbornness (as seen in sunset pt3)) but not necessarily in looks.

Middle right: Boat boys

The first image I did. I like how the water turned out, but I will not be using masking fluid for the same reasons I noted earlier. I did trace the boat (i think this is the reference [L240632 Hornet Class. J. Arthur Dixon Ltd. Beken and Son]). I do regret not doing anything creative with the boat, but I just wanted to get into painting and needed some confidence by working directly from a reference. I also forgot that legend might not be so keen to be on a boat again based on a comment jojo left in 2022 or something. I think she mentioned something in a discord event back then about legend not too willing to be on a boat again. But that doesn't really matter, I put that boy in a boat whether he likes it or not lol.

Top right: Winter storm

Second image I did for this painting. I did trace most of the horse because I do not care to learn horse anatomy (ref. [Winter Save By David Stoecklein]) Favorite part about this is the lighting on the rope from the lantern. I think it turn out well.

Top middle: Heavy armour

Third image I did for the painting and the one I realized I need to spend more time painting people in neutral or back lite lighting. But for my first time I think it is good. I really want to see what jojo does with the armour sets! I like the idea that war's armour is clean and pristine while wild's armour is rusted and beaten from the calamity. In this painting I played with adding pink to the golden armour and I liked it. In the middle picture of the collage (legends storage), you can see i added pink to time's armour.

That's everything! ❤️

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey

<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.

~3.2k

When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.

After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”

The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.

Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”

“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”

“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”

“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”

John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”

“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”

You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.

"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."

"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."

John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."

"It's not my house."

He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."

You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."

Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.

John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.

Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.

"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"

You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."

"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"

"Yes."

"Didja want more?"

You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."

"I'd like to see ye com--"

"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."

"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."

"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."

"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."

"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.

Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"

"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."

You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”

The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.

Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.

You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”

John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.

“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”

You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”

It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,

He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”

His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”

“No more surprises planned?”

John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”

“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.

He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”

“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.

John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.

You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.

"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."

"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."

"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."

"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."

"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."

"King now," John points out.

"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."

"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.

"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.

"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"

"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."

"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."

"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.

"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”

Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”

You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.

As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.

You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.

Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.

"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."

He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."

"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."

"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."

"Just most?"

He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.

You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.

He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."

Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.

“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.

“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.

“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”

“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”

You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”

"Goodnight, doll.”

You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.

Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.

“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.

“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.

“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”

“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.

“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”

“John…”

He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.

“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”

“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”

"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.

"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."

"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."

"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.

"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."

"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."

Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."

"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."

He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."

You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.

"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."

Thanks for reading!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[lovelybluebirdie]

The pale chef

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion attempts to cook for you, but things don’t go as planned.

Word Count: 1,7k

A/N: I got the idea that Astarion naturally struggles with preparing food, so I had to write some fluff about it! Hope you enjoy :)

[ AO3 ]

Astarion stirred the pot in concentration, holding a wooden spoon in his hand and wondering what exactly he was doing here. 

This whole endeavour resulted from your constant need to be nice to him, he thought with a sigh – apparently it made him want to be nice as well. 

It started the other day when you mentioned how you would kill for a mushroom soup. At first he thought nothing of it, but for some reason the idea stuck to his head, so Astarion decided to roam the forest and gather some mushrooms. Unfortunately it turned out rather quickly that he lacked essential knowledge on the matter, so he had to consult Gale of all people. 

Putting his pride aside, he asked through gritted teeth which ones were edible and which to avoid, since he had no desire to poison you by accident. Due to Gale being Gale, the wizard not only lectured him on different kinds of fungi, he had also given a detailed instruction on the soup’s recipe.

Astarion chuckled at the absurdity of the scene. He had never thought that one day he'd voluntarily prepare food for another person – and yet he found himself bending over the hearth and mixing different ingredients, hoping for the best.

He even wore an apron borrowed from said wizard, therefore he was more than glad that his companions had left for a supply run, while you were waiting in your shared tent so he could attempt this little surprise in solitude.

Gale's voice echoed in his mind: Chop the mushrooms, add them to the broth, stir until thickened, season with salt and pepper and sprinkle a few herbs on top – that’s it! Absolutely foolproof, even for someone who prefers to appease their hunger solely with blood.

The mushrooms had been the easiest part. His dexterous fingers cut them into perfectly bite-sized pieces, but Astarion bloody forgot how long the meal should rest on the fire.

Suddenly a burning smell lingered in the air, and he sensed in horror that the soup was boiling over.

“Fuck!” He grabbed the pot with haste and put it away from the heat.

Well, he thought as he gazed at the bubbling mass, that probably meant it was done.

With utmost care not to spill more of his precious loot, he grabbed a ladle and filled a large portion for you. If he already took the effort for such a novelty, you should at least get your belly full.

Astarion slipped out of the apron and made his way back to you. He assumed you were already growing impatient, as this entire affair had consumed far more time than he had anticipated.

“Hello, darling,” he purred when entering your tent, skilfully balancing the bowl in his hand. 

“Finally! I thought you'd kept me waiting all night – wait, what's that?” You put the book you were reading aside and eyed the dish in his hands.

“I’m not quite sure myself, but according to Gale's recipe it should resemble a mushroom soup.”

Your eyes lit up. “Hold on – you prepared this for me? You know that’s my favourite, right?”

“I suppose I do.” Astarion offered you the soup with a coy smile. “Although you should remember that I’m not particularly versed in the culinary arts, so it might be best to treat this with caution.”

You took the bowl from his slender fingers. “Hah, let me be the judge of that! Besides, it was about damn time you returned the favour of feeding me for once, hm?”

“I couldn’t try it myself for obvious reasons, but I doubt that this could compete with your delicious blood,” Astarion replied jokingly and sat next to you, curiously watching as you sniffed the soup.

“Smells not bad…” you affirmed while blowing on the steaming broth resting on your spoon. “Now comes the delicate part – the taste test.”

The spoon disappeared in your mouth, and suddenly your face twisted into a grimace. You swallowed hard, a cough forcing its way through your pressed lips.

Astarion couldn’t help but snort over your clumsy attempt to keep the soup inside. “So – I sense I failed you miserably?”

“What? No – I mean, it’s not… terrible,” you stuttered. “It’s… Well – did you let it burn by chance?”

“Maybe.” He dragged out the syllables dramatically and shrugged. “Be honest, my dead heart surely can take it – shall we save this mess for Scratch and the owlbear?”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed with widened eyes. “I’m not hesitant to share, but not something you specially made for me. Also, some things tend to get better once you get used to the flavour, you know.” 

Before Astarion could intervene, you put another spoon to your mouth and eagerly gulped it down, followed by a second and a third. 

“There’s certainly room for improvement,” you eventually muttered with full cheeks, “but it’s not that bad.”

“I’m afraid you’re a poor liar, my love.” Astarion gently grasped your wrist to prevent you from taking another mouthful. “So please let me stop you right there, before you seriously upset your gut. I’m sure we can get you something more nutritious for the evening.” Then he took the spoon from your hand and put the bowl aside.

“If you insist,” you said with fondness in your eyes while wiping soup from the corner of your mouth. “But honestly – thank you, Astarion. This was… unexpectedly sweet.”

Heat rose to his ears as he rested his hand on your stomach, starting to draw circles. “Well, let's just hope my failed culinary attempt won't kill you tonight.”

“I guess in that case Lae’zel would avenge me, so you’d better start preparing yourself.”

“Mh… You think she’d stake me?” Astarion questioned and continued to caress your belly.

“Who knows what her creativity will lead to in the end. Knowing Lae’zel, she’d probably come up with something worse,” you pondered while tapping your chin. ���But I guess you wouldn't let your preferred blood supply die that easily after all, would you?”

“Oh, don't sell yourself so short,” Astarion countered in feigned bewilderment. “You know that you mean way more to me than that.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, you also keep me warm at night, sparing me the coin for a thicker blanket. You know how expensive those things can get.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his response. “And if you had to give a genuine answer this time?”

Astarion clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I thought my sentiments were rather obvious by now.”

“And yet I don't seem to tire of hearing your appreciation for me,” you teased.

“Getting greedy now, aren’t we? Fine, you're ... quite decent. Despite your constant need to do something heroic, of course.”

You poked his shoulder and turned away with an exaggerated pout.

Astarion chuckled, before he cleared his throat. “Alright – perhaps you’re more than that.” 

He drew you in his arms and breathed against your cheek. “One might also say you're the first person I truly came to care about. Deeply.”

Your lips brushed over his contours, searching for his own until you kissed him tenderly. “See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Astarion rested a peck on your forehead and embraced you closer, a pleasant flutter spreading in his chest. 

You were right, he thought as his lips curled into an affectionate smile – with you, everything seemed surprisingly easy these days.

*

The next morning Astarion woke to a rumbling. He opened his eyes and could only make out your silhouette as you hastily rushed outside, leaving the flap of your tent wide open.

“Love, are you alright?” he asked in concern and immediately got up to follow you.

“Don't worry, I’m fine,” you huffed under your breath.

Astarion knelt beside you in the grass and frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I said… it’s alright…” You gagged between your words. “But perhaps the soup… Ugh–”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Astarion said softly, when he noticed that you were still wearing his shirt from the other night. “And for the love of the gods – please be careful not to stain my clothes.”

“That's what you’re most concerned about right now?”

“No, of course not! But – That’s my favourite,” Astarion mumbled while he reached for your hair, smoothing it back over your shoulders.

“FANGS, what did you do to her?!” Karlach’s voice erupted like a thunderstorm from the other side of the camp as she spotted the two of you.

“Nothing – I only prepared some soup for her last night!”

“Shadowheart! Hurry up, we need you – Astarion poisoned our leader!” Karlach was already marching in the cleric's direction.

“What – no!” You both spoke almost simultaneously, causing you to laugh.

“I seem to have a sensible stomach,” you managed to add before retching again.

Astarion turned serious as he rested his hand on your back. “I'm terribly sorry, my love. That wasn’t meant to happen at all.”

You offered a weak smirk. “I know, and I appreciate the thought. Besides, that means your next dish can only improve.”

Astarion gazed at you in disbelief. “You’d consider letting me cook again after this entire debacle? Those mushrooms must have gone to your beautiful head.”

“Well, on second thought–” You couldn't finish your sentence as your stomach’s content finally emptied onto the grass.

Astarion felt a twist at his ribcage seeing you like this. “We’d better make sure I haven’t actually poisoned you, shall we? – SHADOWHEART! Get yourself over here – now!” 

“I'M ON MY WAY!” Shadowheart shouted from afar.

“I think the worst is already over–” you began to explain, when another voice cut you off.

“Tsk’va! What is going on?” Lae’zel poked her head from her tent, obviously annoyed by the sudden tumult.

“Please, don’t let her stake me,” Astarion whispered and continued to stroke your back.

“Be glad that I love you, otherwise I’d probably let her get away with it this time,” you replied mischievously.

Astarion’s chest filled with warmth as he grasped for your hand. “My sweet, I truly am.” Then he bowed his head to place a kiss on your hair. “And I love you too. So much in fact, that I might consider forgiving you for ruining my shirt.”

You squeezed his hand and grinned. “Prick.”

Astarion returned your grin before his expression turned soft. “But honestly, I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

Next time he would surprise you with something less nauseating, he thought as his fingers entwined with yours – a safe choice like bringing another stray to your camp, or a nice perfume perhaps.

Masterlist

[cowgurrrl]

Something in the Orange

Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader

Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk

Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]

Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???

You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy. 

Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period. 

Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.

A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"

"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.

"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.

"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."

"With who?"

"None of your business." 

"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.

"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"

"Mr. Flynn's."

"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"

"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.

"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look. 

"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room. 

"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.

"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"

"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box. 

"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.

"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod. 

"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day." 

"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.

"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class." 

"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is." 

"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.

"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"

"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."

"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?" 

"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile. 

"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.

"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say. 

"You said that already." 

"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."

"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that." 

"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers." 

"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers." 

"Well, I find that hard to believe." 

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?" 

"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh. 

"How long has it been doin' that?" 

"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."

"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods. 

"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."

"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"

"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.

"Only if you really mean it." 

"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"

"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip. 

"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you." 

"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out. 

What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy. 

When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece. 

"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.

"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment. 

"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand. 

"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"

"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.

"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."

"You didn't like school?"

"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated." 

"That was me in college." 

"Now, I don't believe that for a second." 

"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.

"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher." 

"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox. 

"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong. 

"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.

"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him. 

"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.

Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run." 

"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something." 

"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."

"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip. 

Thanks again. See you Friday. -J

You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts. 

The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event. 

By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her. 

"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself. 

"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh. 

"All good things, I hope."

"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too." 

"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.

"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise." 

"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl." 

"Well, thank you. I owe you." 

"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector." 

"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."

"Mr. Miller-"

"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.

"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"

"You think I'm handsome?"

"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around." 

"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."

"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."

"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.

"Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake. 

So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to. 

After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line. 

Simply, "When can I start -E." 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[pinetreepilgrimage]

Some things in the Wings of fire series i wish were elaborated on more:

-The kraken mentioned in The Book of Clearsight

-history of animus SkyWings

-if the Night and LeafWing populations could genetically bottleneck in the future due to low numbers

-what BeetleWings looked like in detail, tbh I want to hear more about potential extinct tribes or what dragons looked like between the scorching and now

-Tui saying she avoids giving dragons spider based names because she had a potential tribe idea (i forgot where i heard this one so take it with salt)

-non royal Sea and IceWings

-who else might have used DarkStalker’s scroll over the 2000+ years it was lying around

-RainWing history, in general

-the runty SkyWing egg that was mentioned in the prologue of Escaping Peril on the brightest night that was never found

-the origin of NightWing powers (and animus powers, but that seems like too big a question to ask. The better question is about what will happen to it)

feel free to add more

[startanewdream]

Rational, for today's @jilymicrofics

"Together," Remus repeats slowly. "You and Lily are going to Hogsmeade... together."

Remus purses his lips but he doesn't add any comment, his voice barely betraying a hint of amusement. James could always count of him for discretion — a quality that Sirius does not possess.

"So is it a date?"

James chokes, pumpkin juice spilling from his open mouth, face tinting of a deep red. Next to him and looking imensely undisturbed, Lily pats his back calmly.

"Be serious," is all she says.

"Oh, I was. Am. Cannot not be." Sirius is smirking and, unfortunately, far enough that James cannot kick his shin. "Some things just are—like two people going out on a trip, alone, just the two of them... that's usually called a date."

"It's not," Lily replies dignifiedly, even as, under the table, her hand traces James', drawing soft circles on his open palm. "You know we are Heads."

Sirius glances at the badge on James' robes, a familiar frown on his forehead. "As if I could forget."

James breathes again; he can do this silly banter and he knows his well-rehearsed line. "We need to escort the Third Years in their first trip today."

"And you are going together because—"

"It's rational." Lily hesitates for a heartbeat before glancing at James. Her voice softens. "We work better together."

And now her expression cracks for a moment; her sentence was innocent enough that it could mean all the time they spent together as Head Boy and Head Girl, all the plans and shifts, patrolling the halls, watching detentions, or all those infinite meetings that could have been owl mail. But when their eyes meet, James knows she is thinking about later: the innocent then not-so-innocent touches and lingering looks, and, later, the kisses they never pretend were innocent at all.

There is a smile at the corner of her lips now — one that challenges very much their resolution of keeping things low between them until, at least, after this first date — but luckily, no one else seems to notice it. James is quite safe that they've fooled everyone.

That's an illusion that's broken on the narrow street behind the Hog's Head, when loud claps interrupt a kiss that could never be considered innocent.

"You forgot a detail, Padfoot" Peter is saying, smirking. "Two people going out on a trip and making out—that's definitely a date."

"I don't know... Remus, you are the prefect. Snogging other prefects is a requirement?"

"Not that I've been informed."

"Right, or else I might have been more interested in the job."

"No, you wouldn't," James says, recovering his voice.

"Yeah..." Sirius considers it for a moment before winking at them. "So, Evans, remind me of how serious should I be."

"Oh, shut it," she says, sticking her tongue at him and refusing to let go of James' hand, something he is quite content with.

"We are Heads," he says, echoing her words. "After so many hours alone, it was only rational we'd end up snogging."

[p1zzaparty]

a very small, tiny, itty bitty detail i love to see in other peoples drawings of the Losers, especially as adults or young adults even, is what kind of fashion is given to them

like its almost a given that everyones Richie has some weird collection of shitty t-shirts with some nerd thing attached to it. Or brightly colored button ups with polka dots and stripes.

Eddie seems to stump everyone because i've seen him from everything to sweaters, to expensive formal wear, to neon rainbow tank tops. Personally i always saw that guy, with his bright pink and blue polo shirts and simple plain tees, as just a mixed bag of beans. He still dresses like mommy picked out clothes that she thinks would look super handsome on him, with his little stiff gelled combed hair to match. But he rarely, probably has anything that has actual words or icons on his shirts. Maybe a national park sweater here and there, that guy probably loooves gift shops. I think now with his big boy money he'll stray away from his usual get up, splurge a little, buy something branded, something new and expensive. Also something stupid, like shoes that are way too expensive. He's a fake sneakerhead, only really investing in brands he THINKS are cool or trendy. Not that he cares too much about being trendy and cool, like Richie probably does. Just...gets an ear worm sometimes, whispering to him about how they aren't that bad looking, and that he's buying it for himself, not because some jackass on tv wore them. Maybe a shiny new watch too, and maybe even a band shirt for pj-only purposes. Otherwise he's pretty strict on his expenses and just buys what fits and works as a shirt, pants, etc. Comfort over design, squarish in appearance, boxy and casually professional. I don't see him wearing a suit outside of work or waltzing into his nearest cheap café with a confident blazer and matching ironed pants. I doubt that guy even owns an iron, probably forgot to even buy one after mummy-kins passed. Even after she screeched and raved about it too, and he just ignored her tangents, assuming it wasn't even that important, all while his shirts became crinklier and sadder much like him. Sometimes i see people make him almost tooooo strict and formal and buttoned up, to y'know match Richies more casual and stoner-dork like style that's sometimes assigned to him. But Eddie, to me, is always a business casual kinda guy. Like, paid business trip to a golf course casual. Throwing on what's comfortable, giving a healthy amount of thought to what people might think of you. You will NOT find this man dressed to the nines at home, but he does, in fact, have a little pocket protector on his stupid shirt. With a pen or pencil thrown in just to make use of it, an old candy wrapper he forgot about and WILL get washed with it, or a few crumbs from his earlier microwaved breakfast burrito he had to scarf down before Myra had something to say about its ""toxic"" ingredients.

His clothes probably vary in size by a very small margin. Knowing a ball park guess of his pants and shirt sizes, always forgetting to add in it going through the washer, or how a size 30 is a size 31 in Canada or whatever. Probably because he was so used to mummy buying everything for him, even into his early 20s in college. Now he's free from her suffocating grasp, he still copies her sense of fashion and rarely does anything outlandish or fashionable. I think later down the line, in the cannon he survives and goes off to live a happily ever after with Richie, that he'd begin to explore a bit more. Getting that sugar baby money helps, and he'd have to try and buck up with Richie, trying to copy him slightly in terms of fashion.

He's a bland man Sarah, a BLAND man!

[1moreff-creator]

Extra DRDT CH2 Episode 12 Thoughts

Heya! After making my last post where I just live-blogged my immediate reaction to the episode, I had a few more thoughts that I figured I should write down somewhere. They’re all too small for their own posts, but I still think they’re worth sharing.

Spoilers for CH2 EP12

CW: Murder, hanging, suicide.

The Water Thing

This episode brought up two interesting points which had rarely, if ever, been discussed within the fandom: Arei’s body swinging, and her body temperature and its connection to water. And while I’m relatively sure I saw one or two people mention the swinging at some point, the temperature issue is certainly a new one.

The swinging was explained in the trial: Arei’s body was hung shortly before it was found. But J says something interesting; the corpse should have been warm, unless it was drenched in water and dried. Paraphrasing a bit, but you get the point.

However, I actually don’t think this is a big deal, just adds a slight addendum to previous murder theories. We know the killer dumped the fish in the playground to confuse time of death, so I believe the killer likely splashed Arei with the water to cool her down. This is assuming they even thought about the body temperature, but I don’t think this is a large assumption to make.

I have seen people claim that Arei’s hair looks somewhat wet in the BDA, which… maybe? Anyways, this idea would explain that as well.

This might even give us Possible Explanation Number I Lost Count for the damn missing glove. Maybe it got particularly wet and the culprit worried it wouldn’t dry quickly enough? If people discovered a dripping wet bowling glove, the whole “using fish to confuse the time of death” thing would kinda go straight out the window. I have no idea if that makes any amount of sense, I don’t see why the glove would dry any slower than the rest of her clothes, but oh well.

Arturo’s Talent, and his Recap Foil: Levi

(Here’s the link to the original Recap Foil Theory post by gleamingtempest, in case you don’t know what I’m talking about).

Kinda forgot this was a thing when first watching the episode, but now looking back on it, there’s some neat foiling going on. Levi and Arturo’s backstory already were somewhat opposites in some aspects: Arturo got away from home himself while Levi was disowned, though Levi seems to hold a higher degree of respect for his family in comparison to Arturo. Levi is (now confirmed!) a murderer with no remorse, while Arturo accidentally caused Felicity’s death to some extent and clearly feels guilty about it. Etcetera.

Well, we can add a new detail to this foil! Arturo’s been training his talent since he was twelve, while Levi has admitted since introduction that he’s ��a novice to fashion.” Neat detail, and certainly adds to this theory.

Terumin VS Xanvid

Thanks to Haru for pointing this out, but Teruko’s “I’ll fix my mistake” echoes Min’s “I’ll fix your mistake” from her Argument Armament. As I mentioned in the linked post, it’s cool that Teruko is taking a sort of Min-like attitude to her mistakes while calling Xander out, while David is taking Xander’s side in the same trial he calls Min pathetic. Foils and all that.

(Doomed Yuri V Doomed Yaoi, fight!)

This makes me hopeful that Min will still have some importance later. But I’m probably just coping.

What Was David Cooking?

I am kinda sick of talking about this man, frankly. I blame the almost three hour video I made on his MV. But oh well, he’ll stop being center focus soon enough. For now, His Deal is still one of the most central aspects of the episodes, so discuss him I will.

There are two big points of contention with what he said this trial. First, what does he remember about Xander? Second, what was he actually trying to do by pretending to be Arei’s murderer?

The first is pretty simple to assume, I think. David remembers whatever Xander did to become the Ultimate Rebel, and respects him as a result. Especially since Xander’s numeral I in LGI, the Footnote 14 code solved by y-prime, is “I have always looked up to you.”

I don’t think David has Hope’s Peak memories, despite his weird wording with “even if you all lost a year of memories.” He specifically says he and Xander had never met in his Prologue introduction, before they had any real reason to believe they’d lost memories. The LGI video also doesn’t add anything, because… well, it’s not a Milgram MV. It doesn’t come from his memories, it exists purely in meta. This is evident from the comments referencing Byakuya, Nagito and Kokichi, characters these people should have no knowledge of as Veronika claims not to remember anything like the DRDT killing game happening before; certain references to conversations and details David shouldn’t be aware of (mainly in numeral placement), etc.

(While I was writing that, the dev seemingly clarified that David does not have Hope’s Peak memories, then deleted the tweet, so. Just in case, there’s the full reasoning)

The second one is trickier. David is following Xander’s ideals, but that’s all we know. We don’t have a concrete idea of what Xander’s ideals really were, and it’s even harder to know what David thinks Xander’s ideals were.

David: I’m sure he had a good reason. I believe that he did. Xander is not the kind of person to do anything for frivolous purposes.

He believes Xander had a good reason for trying to kill Teruko, he says he’s sure of it, but he never implies to know exactly what the reason was. And if he doesn’t know the exact reason, he can’t for sure say what ideal Xander was upholding by doing what he did.

But, he knows what Xander was trying to do; kill everyone. Because if it was just Teruko, he wouldn’t have tried to mislead people with the CD thing. Although, Xander was following that one note that said to “kill Teruko Tawaki,” so it could potentially be targeted.

So, taking credit for Arei’s murder to try and kill everyone is because Xander tried to do something similar. But the deeper reason he gave, about the nature of the killing game, is it true?

(Apologies in advance for the particularly horrible collage. I am without a reliable computer atm)

David [Annoyed]: Ugh, fucking fine. You want an answer so badly? Any answer?

[Face covered] …

I…

[Sweating] Ah… We’re… in a television show, after all. That’s… what MonoTV said, right?

“Entertainment” is an ongoing show.

If Min successfully got away with the very first murder and escaped while we all died, isn’t that way less interesting for a TV show?

What’s the point of roping 14 other people into one murder, only to kill them all off immediately?

The killer is supposed to fail and get executed. We’re all supposed to catch the killer, again and again, and participate in trial after trail. You’re *supposed* to try to survive.

All of you, who are trying to slice these class trials to continue living on are playing straight into MonoTV’s hands.

[Confident] As if I’ll accept that.

I don’t care how low I’ll sink, or how despicable I’ll have to become. I’ll do anything to carry on Xander’s ideals by ending this killing game, even if it means that I have to dirty my hands.

Oh, this man is lying out his ass.

This is not an answer you hesitate over if it’s true. The words David is saying are neutral; the show is meant for entertainment, and it’s not entertaining if people die early. There’s no controversy there, no reason to be nervous. Especially since Eden’s already come to the same conclusion.

Veronika: You know, Eden once thought of an interesting plan to end the killing game. Based on everything we know, it could theoretically work.

[…]

To make a television show so boring they have no choice but to shut it down.

All we have to do is nothing.

You’re not supposed to be sweating when you’re effectively repeating something Eden said, even if under a different context.

First, David says he’ll give “any answer”, already making anything he says shady. Then, he seems to deliberate on what to say, which is already suspicious.

The most notable thing is that when he starts talking about the TV show, and what it means for it to be entertaining, he still hesitates. If his plan really was to make the TV show boring, once he decides to spill the beans, there’s nothing to hesitate about.

He only regains his confidence at the end, ironically when he’s saying the actually insane stuff. He finally finds the character he was trying to play and actually says something true; he wants to uphold Xander’s ideals and end the killing game. But I really don’t think it’s because he wants to make it boring.

In other words, he’s not lying about wanting to follow Xander and end the killing game, but his explanation about the entertainment has nothing to do with that. It’s way too simple of an explanation for the amount he hesitates. At least, that’s what I think, I may be wrong.

That brings us to the question; if he didn’t take the blame to make the game boring, why did he do it?

Well, currently and without too much confidence, I believe it has to do with Xander’s secondary goal; killing Teruko Tawaki.

One of the most well-accepted theories in the community is that David’s secret, “everything in your life is worth killing over [and] the killing game is all your fault,” isn’t Xander’s, but Teruko’s.

(In fact, side theory: I’m betting (on little evidence) that by the end of the trial, it will be David with his fanboy knowledge to point out that the “survivor’s guilt” secret that Min “received” was actually Xander’s, and reveal by process of elimination (since it’s likely going to be revealed in the trial that Hu has Veronika’s secret and Veronika has Hu’s, assuming those theories are true) that Min has the poison secret. It’s a bit of a wild prediction, but I think it’s a reasonable possibility to how the series would go about confirming the secrets of the dead)

That, combined with the fact that Xander followed a note that told him to kill Teruko, would certainly be enough for David to decide that Teruko’s gotta die. And killing everyone in the class trial is probably the best way to ensure that happens, since David probably doesn’t hunk attacking her directly is a good idea. If Xander, physically the strongest student in the cast, couldn’t get past Teruko’s luck, what the hell is David supposed to do? Especially now that she carries a knife, though I’m not sure David knows that.

It’s not even that out of nowhere; in the LGI video, Teruko’s numeral XIII appears next to a quote regarding the child of Omelas among other things. Very long story (skip to 1:22:22 in this video for the full explanation), but the child of Omelas is someone who must suffer so everyone else can live in a perfect world. It’s possible David thinks of Teruko, for one reason or another, as the Omelas child; she’s gotta die so everyone can be happy. She is someone “deeply unloved” after all.

Now, is this a stretch? Certainly. But I don’t think David’s telling the truth about his motivations, and I think this is one of the more likely options as to what exactly he was cooking here. I’m sure there’s better explanations out there, I just haven’t seen them :v

David VS Whit

I kinda skipped over the “Red Herring pun to David Freakout” line at first, but I think it’s pretty interesting that David gets so mad at Whit’s behavior. They are Recap Foils, so it makes sense they’d have strong emotions towards each other.

In particular, I’d like to point out how David gets mad at Whit for something similar to what he does as a motivational speaker.

I mentioned it in the previously mentioned section of my LGI analysis, but I believe part of the reason David hates Teruko is that he sees himself in her (pessimistic, thinks the world won’t change, etc), and this would be the other side of that. David constantly says things he doesn’t believe to make people happy, and he considers that to be pretty stupid, so it makes sense for him to get frustrated when seeing Whit doing something similar, trying to raise spirits by telling jokes. Looking at Whit is sorta like looking in a mirror, and David hates that. The mirror in LGI is labeled “reflection is due” for a reason.

I’m not fully sure this works 100%, but I think it’s at least worth considering.

Updates on Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice

In case you’re new here, here’s a link to my post detailing the Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice theory, which I came up with alongside some other theorists, and is what I currently believe the murder to be. My thoughts on possible character motivation and the such have shifted a bit since then, but the important part is the physical evidence. In particular, the combination of Lockdown Logic to determine Eden most likely took the tape from the gym and the Fish Timeline to determine someone else must have helped her get the fish, combined with the overly complicated murder method which I describe in detail, leads me to believe Eden is the blackened, and Levi helped her kill Arei.

I’m not going to talk about other theories, I’ll let the dedicated theorists perfect them with the new evidence in their own time. But, how does this theory change?

On the surface, uh, not much. We haven’t talked method much, after all.

(Side note, I know some people are bothered by how long that’s taking, and while I kinda get it, I’m not bothered by it. We’re in no rush; I prefer it if all the character conflict is addressed at some point, even if it delays talking about the actual method. Better than it going unaddressed, after all)

The only change is adding that they splashed Arei with water to hide her body temperature, but as discussed, that’s a minor change.

The big wrench thrown into this theory is the end, because… I’ll be honest, dear audience, I have no clue what Levi’s cooking here. Like, at all. Zero read on why he’s revealing his secret. I could try to speculate, but I can’t find any fully satisfactory answer even outside the Levi!Accomplice theory. Nothing makes sense to me, so I’ll just wait for the next episode before trying to read into it.

There is one unrelated thing I want to bring up, though, and it’s related to Levi’s possible motivation. I know this is one of the biggest sticking points in the theory (obviously), so I’d like to talk about it.

As a refresher: although alternate ideas have been offered, my current guess is that it has to do with his desire to be a good person, and the fact he considers Eden a good person. Cue the whole “A Good Person” hidden title behind “All That Glitters.”

Levi: Perhaps I messed up yesterday. But I want to move on. I want to keep trying to become ‘a good person,’ like you, Eden.

The idea goes like this. Levi thinks Eden is good, and so he wants to do good by her. Based on the secret quote in the code of his character page, we can tell he prefers to speak through actions. He’s a bold action man, and that can cause him to come off as heartless.

Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.

My personal theory (again, other Levi motives are possible) assumes that Levi believes someone will win the killing game eventually (and this is an assumption, I won’t deny it), and if only one persona can escape, he’d rather it be Eden than anyone else. Again, “good person.” Levi will die, sure, but unless he becomes a blackened himself, he’s going to die regardless whenever someone gets away with murder.

Now, this isn’t anything drastically different than what I said in the theory post, so why am I bringing it up?

Well, the thing is… Doing something horrible, throwing away your own life and those of most of your peers, all for the sake of the one you’ve deemed to be “a good person”…

Now where have I heard that before?

David: But doing “good” things requires sacrifice. Sometimes that sacrifice is being seen as a good person.

Even if doing something makes you hated, if that action is for a greater good, then it’s an action you have to take.

Xander is a good person. He’s the only good person I’ve ever known. I swear, I’ll follow in his footsteps and—

Huh. Funny how that works.

My point is that not only is “doing good by the only good person here” now a pre-established line of reasoning these characters can have, Levi doing such a thing for Eden would be a very interesting parallel to what David tried to do for Xander.

This isn’t evidence, to be clear. Just because one guy does it, doesn’t mean a completely unrelated dude is gonna do it too. But I’m calling it now as a potentially interesting parallel to explore, either in canon if I’m right or, like, an AU if I’m wrong :v

That said, I will point out that Hu’s capital G Girlboss Moment is directly after this, the one where she chews David out for deciding what’s best for all of them without consultation. And a little bit afterwards, Levi starts acting weird, apologizing for being useless, revealing his secret, etc. These two things could be connected, if Levi is, like, having second thoughts after that.

I could see a world where Levi’s trying to bring the conversation towards the right answer without fully committing to it, only for something or someone to somehow convince him back to accomplice-hood middway through it. I find that immensely unlikely, to be clear, but again, I genuinely have no idea what Levi’s trying to do right now, so.

All in all, a pretty neutral episode for this theory. Next one could completely break it, though, so I’m excited. I might have to come up with new theories! >:D

God I missed DRDT. And the only drawback of coming back is re-opening LGI trauma :D /silly

Anyways, thanks for reading! See you on the flipside!

[20dollarlolita]

Frill Skirt Tutorial

Here's a tutorial for making a lolita skirt with a fully elastic waistband.

Recommended background reading: How to pick quilt prints for use in lolita fashion. And here's some things I've previously said about this project.

We're going to make some skirts that look like this. This is a really fun project because you can use a lot of quilt prints, and fully elastic skirts are comfortable and flexible wardrobe pieces.

In this skirt, my pink striped fabric is "Skirt", and the navy with the shoes is "frill". The black lace at the bottom of the skirt is the hem lace, and the lace with the pink ribbon is the transition lace.

You can use the same fabric for the frill and the skirt, making it look more like the skirts referenced above. If you use different fabric for the frill and the skirt, it's is a little bit like faking a border print.

Here's some cutting dimensions. Please excuse the fact that I forgot to turn off "emulate brush dynamics".

Because this is elastic, we're going to be basing the sizes off how much fabric you cut. When you're working with a big, gathered rectangle, you have a lot of options for how much ease you're going to put in the garment.

I forgot to list it, but these skirts really look better when they're lined with a slippery lining fabric. For lining, you just need the "skirt" measurement. For size 1, you need 23" of lining, or 2/3 of a yard.

For size 2, you're going to want 36" of lining, or one yard.

All these sizes include some fabric for extra things like bows and hair accessories. I highly, HIGHLY recommend getting into the habit of making matching accessories as part of the project of making a lolita garment. You're going to need them anyway, so they might as well match.

For size 3, you will want 40" of lining fabric, or 1 + 1/8 yards.

All of these sizes assume that you're using 45" wide fabric. If you're using 60" fabric, you can likely go down a size. (This would be max hip of 52" for size 1, 82" for size 2, and 172" for size 3).

For any view, you will also need enough 1/4" or 3/8" elastic to go around your natural waist (or wherever you wear your skirt) about 4 times. Let's be honest, we all have a massive roll of 1/4" elastic hanging around from making covid masks, so let's use it up.

These skirts are a little bit on the shorter side, because that's just how Meta releases them. Since you're the one making the skirt, you can make some decisions. If you're tall, want to wear a fuller petticoat, or are building a skirt for a substyle where you usually want a longer skirt, you can add a few inches. You'll get a slightly different look if you're lengthening the skirt versus lengthening the frill, versus lengthening both equally. If you're not sure, now's a good time to check out lolibrary and look for dresses and skirts and see where they place the details around the hem. Lolibrary lets you search by brand, so search by brand and just take a note of what you see most often in pieces that you like.

For example, Alice and the Pirates often has the hem detail to be pretty close to the hem on their solid pieces, while Baby the Stars Shine Bright will have the detail going up quite a bit higher. (Please do more than the 10 seconds of searching that I did to get these examples). Therefore, if you want to lengthen the skirt and have a slightly more AatP tone, you can add the length to the skirt part of the skirt, and if you want a slightly more BtSSB tone, you can add the length to the frill part.

Researching your garments is the secret to having handmade garments that actually read as lolita fashion. Lolita fashion history is documented to an extent that no other fashion I've ever heard of is, and it really helps to take advantage of that extraordinary resource.

With our pattern ready and maybe lightly adjusted, let's get to work:

Foundational fact #1: fabric that rips will rip in a straight line along the grain of the fabric. Our skirt is made entirely of rectangles, so we're going to take advantage of that fact. If you want to cut your fabric with scissors, or with a rotary cutter, you're completely allowed to. If you don't have a serger with a functional cutting blade, you might want to cut it so that you don't need to trim the edges. I have a serger and I like to rip it. It might not be the best way, but it's how I've been making my lolita skirts since 2011, and I don't like change and I do like the stress-relieving experience of ripping.

So, lay your fabric out, and mark your cutting lines. If you're ripping the fabric, like I am, you just need to cut a little snip to get the tearing started.

This pattern factors in a half inch for seam allowance. If you're ripping the fabric, you will lose a little bit of usable fabric, so add yourself an extra inch to each cut.

Take your nice straight cuts/rips and lay them out in an organized fashion. You should have a frill pile, a skirt pile, a waistband pile, and an extra pile. If you like piles, you can also pile up your lace next to it.

You're going to sew every pile together so that you have each it its own long strip. Your lining (white fabric) should be the same size as your skirt piece. If it's longer (if you're using 45" quilt fabric for the face and 60" lining fabric for the lining), go ahead and trim them so they're the same total length in the long dimension.

Put the skirt on top of your lining and sew the top edges together.

You'll notice that this skirt is made up in doubles. The skirt is twice the long dimension as the waistband, and the frill is twice the long dimension of the skirt. This makes things easy to gather up.

If you're not using an overlocker to assemble this skirt, you will also want to run some kind of seam finish on the long ends of this skirt, to stop fraying.

(please pardon my hypermobile thumb)

A lot of people do gathering stitches by sewing two lines of basting stitches, and then pulling the thread on those stitches to cinch up the gathers. This does work really well on small things. However, as the amount that you need to gather gets longer and longer, it's gets more and more difficult to pull those threads without them breaking. Instead, I like using an applied gathering string. My current favorite string is waxed dental floss. Most dentists recommend unwaxed floss since it grabs more plaque, so make the smart decision and retire your waxed floss to be in your sewing box.

If you are making this project on a serger or an overlocker (and this is a GREAT first serger project), you can overlock over the dental floss. Here you can see the white floss going between the two needles. The needles are not going through the floss, just on either side of it. Tip: that little hole in the front of the presser foot is actually intended for you to put elastic or thread through so you don't need to hold it as carefully. I forgot and so I didn't do that here).

We're applying the dental floss onto the top edge of the ruffle.

If you aren't using an overlocker, you can do some form of hem finish (my favorite is the 3-step zigzag) and then apply the dental floss by doing a zigzag over it. Again, the needle isn't going through the floor, just on either side of it.

Now, pin your ruffle onto your skirt. I divide the ruffle and skirt up into equal portions, and then pin it first. My ruffle is twice the long measure as the skirt is, and they're both cut out of the same width of fabric. This means that dividing the ruffle up is pretty easy, because I can use the seams of the ruffle. The first seam in my ruffle goes halfway between the edge of the skirt and its first seam. The second seam of my ruffle goes on the first seam of my skirt, and so on.

Then, you just pull your dental floss so that it gathers up the fabric, and pin it down. Since we divided the fabric up earlier, we don't need to spend as much fight getting all the ruffles to be even. Go ahead and pin everything down, and then sew it together.

Now you're going to fold the skirt and lining in half to seam it all together. Match up your seams, and unfold your lining (see picture). This will let you sew the frill, the skirt, and the lining all together in one go.

The easiest time to put the hem and transition laces on is before you attach the waistband. The basic rule with gathered skirts is that it's a lot easier to apply anything flat that you can before you gather it.

In a lot of older lolita tutorials, a lot of people treated lace as optional. However, now that it's not 2007 anymore, we have a bit more of an expectation for detail in the garments we wear. Quilt cotton especially has a very flat texture, even when it has a nice print. If you can add a bit of texture and detail, you want to do so. If you're doing the skirt and the ruffle out of the same fabric, you can probably get away without using the transition lace, but you will still want hem lace.

I didn't have any lace when I was making this one, so I used a couple of lines of decorative topstitching between the skirt and the frill. I got the idea from this blog post from 2010. I didn't execute it as well as Lolita Noveau did, but that was the general concept.

Anyway, waistband time.

Take the edges of your waistband and press them in. You don't need to apply a seam finish before you do this. I have overlocking on mine because I ripped my fabric, and used the serger to clean up the edge. If you don't rip your fabric like a savage and use technology like scissors instead, you don't have that problem.

Fold your waistband in half. It's now time to sew the elastic channels.

Here's the secret to this waistband. Start out by stitching a line about 3/16" away from the fold in your waistband.

When you put your elastic in, this little line of stitching makes your waistband stay on straight, and adds a tiny ruffle to the top. I picked this up from the Metamorphose frill skirts, and it's amazing.

After you've made that line of stitching, start making channels for your elastic. Add about 1/8" of width from the width of your elastic (so 1/4" elastic, sew your channels at 3/8". 3/8" elastic, sew your channels at 1/2"). Leave a space for you to be able to actually put the elastic in. Don't forget this, or you'll have to redo it. Ask me how I know. I found that three channels works pretty well. Don't sew the channel closest to the edge, because you need to attach your skirt.

You're going to need to gather the top of your skirt, just like you gathered the top of your frill. Get your dental floss and your zigzag stitch ready.

Your waistband (flat) will be twice the length of your skirt, so you can pin and pull the gathers just like you did for the ruffle.

So this part is important: You are going to sew the right side of a single thickness of the waistband onto the wrong side of the skirt. I don't have a good picture of this, but here goes trying to explain it.

You need to sew the waistband so that the top seam of the skirt (the part that's sewn to the lining) is sandwiched between the front and back of the waistband. You are going to have your edges of the waistband turned under to hide the raw edge.

While you CAN do this by just putting the top of the skirt edge into the waistband seam and sew it down, you can make it look prettier by doing it like this:

You sew the right side of a single thickness of the waistband to the wrong side of the skirt. This means that, when you unfold it, the seam will be pointing outward, towards the viewer. This feels like it would look bad.

You then press that seam so that it's flat, and then wrap the front of the waistband to the front of the skirt. You tuck the raw edges into the waistband, so that they're all sandwiched between the back and the front of the waistband. You then sew the front of the waistband down from the front.

What this does is it allows you to have very precise control of where your final line of topstitching is. If you've ever sewn a skirt facing and been told to stitch the back of the facing by doing a stitch-in-the-ditch, this is like that but in reverse. It's the same process, but with the top stitching definitely showing.

Anyway, you can now cut your elastic to your waist measurement (or maybe about an inch shorter than your waist measurement) and start feeding it through your elastic channels. Since you're using such thin elastic, it helps to have negative ease (which is the technical name for "cut it smaller because it'll stretch) in your elastic measurements. Start by putting in the elastic at the top casing, and go down.

Sew your elastic ends together when you're done, and there you go! If this is your first lolita garment, congrats! See if Wunderwelt Closet Child has a blouse in your size that goes with your skirt, because they ship fast and some items are really discounted. 42lolita is a lolita-themed taobao reseller that's easy to shop. Basically just don't overpay from devilinspired. If you're going to have to wait crazy long lead times anyway, you might as well be not spending their big marked up prices.

Finish up any little last things, like threading the ribbon through your beading lace, if you used it.

Anyway, now you have a skirt! Yay. Make yourself several and learn how colors, prints, scale, and texture work with each other.

[irondad-defensesquad]

My Irondad fic recs!

I thought of doing this because why not? Admittedly, I'm not reading as much fanfiction as I did a couple years ago, but some fics have changed my life entirely. In case I forgot one, I'll add it later!

I would’ve organized this in a bullet list, but Tumblr hates me and invented a character limit for that. So this is going to be long and will be under the cut. Anyway, let’s do this!

Rare and Sweet As Cherry Wine by loubuttons – I've mentioned this one before, but this fic right here was what inspired me to write my own Irondad works. One very particular detail I like about it is how it portrays Maria, Tony's mother. It's not what I usually see in other fics about Tony's childhood, since they tend to make Howard the big bad parent. Of course, this is because I personally related to it, as I don't believe in the "bad parent vs. good parent". I also like that it praises Edwin Jarvis as the one who looked out for Tony the most. It's pretty realistic and a very melancholic character study, IMO. *TW for abuse and neglect*

You're Always Iron Man by madasthesea – a very short fic but I absolutely love the premise. Takes place after the big battle in Iron Man 2, and Tony finds little Peter again. They have a very endearing interaction. The following chapter is also very cute!

Nothing like a fresh cup of humiliation in the morning by madasthesea – Pure fluff! This one is probably a classic in the Irondad fandom. Tony kisses Peter's forehead without second thought. Shenanigans ensue. It's so adorable and funny. If you just want to read fluff without angst, this one is for you.

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by madasthesea - I think I heard about this fic thanks to @/irondadfics here on Tumblr, but I might be wrong since I already knew the Nice work, kid series. Anyway, Peter is believed to be dead, so Tony (and the rest of the Avengers team) is mourning him. In reality, Peter is astral projecting. You know, sort of like how Stephen Strange, in his first movie, was fighting a guy in the other dimension while his body on Earth was struggling to live. That's basically what happens. Strange appears, of course, and saves the day. And I pretty much LOVE the presumed dead trope. I don't know why. Maybe it's the angst of it all. *TW for grief/mourning and temporary character death*

The Reason by doctornineandthreequarters – I think I read this one when I was still writing Oh, take me back to the start. I was looking for fics for inspiration, and I found this one. During the Time Heist in Endgame, Tony remembers the reason he's fighting to bring everyone else back. It's very emotional.

Couch Cuddles by happyaspie – Classic sickfic, but with more fluff than anything. I like rereading it when I feel lonely and touch-starved, especially when I'm also sick like Peter.

You’re So Much Like Me (I’m Sorry) by SpaceCowboysFromMars – Irondad + Miles Morales! Peter is an adult in this, and he freaks out when an injured Miles arrives in his apartment. Tony gives him some wisdom about mentoring and parenting. I don’t usually find Irondad stories featuring Miles (and not necessarily a Spider-Verse crossover), so this was a nice discovery. Peter & Miles & Tony is a very underrated trio IMO. *TW for slight gore*

I'm Glad I Have You by punkybunny – Peter has been having a rough time, dealing with loneliness as Aunt May is not home often, and with bullying at school... until he finally has the chance to spend time with Tony. However, the demons don't disappear completely. Obviously, more Hurt/Comfort, lmao. *TW for nightmare/bad dream*

I Want to Trust You by punkybunny – Actually part of a series that, admittedly, I haven't read all the other stories. But even this one is a very interesting concept on its own. This is a Hydra Peter AU, after Peter has been rescued. He gets sick but given his past in Hydra, he thinks Tony is going to get angry. Peter is proven wrong when Tony helps him get better. The ending is very adorable. I'll see if I can read the rest of the series one day. *TW for past abuse and experimentation*

what you think I've done wrong by ironxprince – I don't often read Biodad stories as you all know, but I was, again, looking for inspiration for You keep me searching for a heart of gold, and I stumbled across this one. Basically Peter, as Tony's biological son, finally meets Howard. It goes as well as you think /sarcasm. *TW for physical abuse*

i, in time, will climb my mountain by ironxprince – This one is heavy. Once again, Peter is Tony's bio son, and he's suicidal. Every time Peter attempts suicide, he buys a new plant. Tony doesn't know this, so he's confused as to why there are so many plants in their house. I love this one, but of course, I try to read it when I’m not having a really bad day. *Once again, TW for suicide attempts*

how do you get that lonely (and nobody knows?) by parkrstark – Yeah... another heavy one. Peter attempts suicide but he saves himself before he reaches the ground. With that, he goes to Tony. This ends happily, don't worry. *TW for suicide attempt*

When You Can't Sleep by Emily_F6 – Pretty much Tony comforting a sleepy Peter, who has just had a nightmare about Thanos. Just Hurt/Comfort and domestic fluff. *TW for mention of death*

i get by (but it's eating me alive) by Livinei – Honestly, I think this is the BEST May's Abusive Boyfriend story I've ever read. For one, none of the characters are oblivious nor dismissive of Peter's feelings. May isn't neglectful and Ned actually tries to encourage Peter to tell someone. I also like that Peter isn't completely helpless. I don't usually see those things in other fics with this trope, sadly. And of course, Protective Tony is my weakness. *TW for emotional and physical abuse*

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea – Post-Endgame where Tony is alive, and Peter and Tony are both trying to cope, so they rely on each other. Pure Hurt/Comfort.

A Tremendous Thing by ExpectoPatronum – Possibly one of my favorite Irondad stories EVER. Also post-Endgame with Alive Tony (though the author better explains it in the notes, it's supposed to be part of a series, but this story can be read on its own). There are a lot of references to Charlotte's Web if you're familiar with it. Basically, it's Father's Day and Peter is feeling guilty and out of place at Tony's lake house, even though everyone is readily trying to include him. It's absolutely beautiful and painful.

Hug You I Must by spiderwriting (catch_you_later) – Probably one of the first touch-starved Peter fics I've read. I like how it describes touch-starvation as this "itchy" current in your body, something that makes you anxious. Thankfully, Peter gets his hug later on. Plus there are some Star Wars references (the title probably is one, lol). *There's some minor violence here when Peter is fighting off some bad guys, but not the focus of the fic*

When You're There With No One There To Hold, I'll Be The Arms That Reach For You by Squibbles94 – Another touch-starved Peter fic. But I really like the references to Cast Away. Ironically I saw this movie in the same year the author published this fic (dare I say SHORTLY after it was posted). I also had no idea that Cast Away was entirely about isolation. Gosh, the main character's monologue at the end ALWAYS gets to me... anyway, yeah, the peak of the pandemic was awful to me, so reading fics like this one helped tons. It still does.

I am cold by N/A (orphan account) – Peter tries to visit Tony, but he gets lost in a subway tunnel on a freezing day. Eventually we learn why Peter wanted to see Tony, but overall this is mainly domestic fluff. Everything ends well.

Sorry Pedro by PinkEasterEggs – One of the first Irondad fics I read. Peter has a nightmare about Homecoming (mainly Toomes), but he avoids waking Tony for that reason. But thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y's protocols, Peter goes to his mentor. Tony is also super soft here and it makes my heart swoon.

you are enough by diaz_evan – Another post-Endgame fic. Arguably I began reading Irondad fics only after Endgame released. Anyway, this one is short, kinda sad but it ends well. It’s Tony’s birthday and Peter feels very anxious about what to get him as a present. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to prove his love for Tony. *TW for panic attack*

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Stark by downeylove – There are a lot of Father’s Day fics for these two, of course, but this one takes the cake for me. It’s simple but very endearing to me. Tony obviously doesn’t have good memories of this day, but Peter changes that for the first time. It’s really cute. Plus, Pepper is here, and I love her. I wish I could read more of her interacting with Peter. *TW for mentions of alcoholism and past child abuse*

5 Times Peter Didn’t Say He Was Struggling… And The One Time He Did by Bladam_Shevine – Again, an old fic I read years ago. I admit I haven’t re-read it in a while, but I remember enjoying it and even saving it to read offline. It’s basically what it says in the title: Peter struggles in many ways and he initially refuses help. Tony is always there to reassure him he can count on him. Bruce is here if you like him! And MJ helps Peter on one of the chapters as well. The chapters might get heavier as they go, but it ends on a hopeful note. *TW for injury, panic attack, suicide attempt (it doesn’t involve Peter), and depression*

The Good Days and the Bad by SoupGirlLovesSoup - Peter has had a bad day, now he's cuddling with Tony. It takes a while before Peter finally tells him what happened. It gets sad, but it's mostly fluff and it ends hopefully. I love re-reading it when I need the comfort. *TW for mention of suicide attempt, depression, and bullying*

Breathe Again by gwenoakley - Post-Endgame where Tony survives. He's recovering in the hospital and Peter finally reunites with him. Before that, though, we can feel the anxiety and trauma Peter feels. Definitely makes me emotional. It's the ending they deserved.

Popsicles and Playgrounds by ironfamjam - I can't believe I forgot to save this one in my bookmarks. I used to re-read this all the time! It's an AU where MIT student Tony meets a kid Peter. Eventually, Tony becomes Peter's babysitter! This is part of a series, which I still have to read fully. It's such a wholesome idea!! <3 *Howard's bad parenting is mostly mentioned*

Well, for now this is it! Again, I might add more fics here. I think I also could make a list of what particular concepts I want to read more in Irondad stories, so maybe you guys could give me your own recs. I might try to resume my habit of reading Irondad fics, because they give me a lot of comfort. Thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoy any of the stories I included.

(I'm aware some authors here have their accounts on Tumblr, but I didn't want to annoy anyone by tagging them, so yeah 😅)

EDIT (June 4th, 2024): What Irondad fics I would like to read!

[restinslices]

I love your stuff so much, could you write something with the reader getting jealous about Smoke? Someone getting a bit too close to him and the reader feels bad about it. And Tomas finds out and comforts her, finding it endearing.

And I love you💕 Idk why this was kicking my ass so bad. I did two drafts and idk if I like this but this is all I got😔

Word count: 1476

Tomas was not entirely stupid. 

Sure he had moments where he'd made something that should've been simple,  incredibly complicated but he wasn't stupid. He didn't think so at least. 

Anyone who's been around him for the past week might disagree though. 

Tomas had just returned from a mission along with his brothers, and naturally he was telling you all about it. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't really listening. Tomas tended to ramble and his missions were usually the same as the last, so it was best to let him go on and on but still add commentary here and there. “Wow”, “Really?”, “No you didn't”, and other side comments would hold him. 

Your ears perked up and you started to listen more when he started mentioning women.

It's not that he couldn't speak to other women or he couldn't have female friends, you weren't that crazy. It was just the way he was describing them. Great fighters, moving with the wind, long flowy hair that danced in the sun. It was compliment after compliment, and as much as you hated to admit it, it made your heart squeeze. 

“Wanna tell me how they all looked in detail?” You said sarcastically. You expected Tomas to hear your sarcasm, realize what was wrong, apologize and keep telling his story. Instead he just chuckled and said 

“Then we'd be here all day”. 

Unfortunately for you, the day got worse. 

Another woman whose name you hadn't memorized was all over him. Giggling at jokes that weren't nearly as funny as she pretended they are and finding any reason to touch him. 

You should've said something. You should've communicated your feelings. That's how relationships are supposed to work. 

But you didn't. 

On one hand, you thought you had every reason to be jealous and if Tomas actually cared for your feelings, then he would've picked up on this and apologized. On the other hand you thought you were being unreasonable. Tomas couldn't help if some ditzy bitch liked him. Plus, you never told him how you felt, so you couldn't be mad at him for not understanding. In the same breath though, why didn't he tell her to get off of him and why did he feel it was necessary to describe how great these other women he met were? 

You were arguing with yourself for a solid week, and each day that devil on your shoulder got louder. After all, if Tomas did care about how you felt, he'd stop entertaining that girl. Everytime she was near, you left. Didn't you absence bother him?

But once again, that damn angel got in the way telling you to just be honest with him. He'd understand. How can you be mad at something you hadn't communicated upsets you?

But communication came with shame. How would you look telling Tomas that you got a little butt hurt about him talking about other girls and a girl that kept flirting with him? He'd either understand, or he'd be upset. That's how relationships fell apart, right?

No. It was the lack of communication. 

Maybe?

“I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs” you mumbled. 

“Why?” he asked. 

You somehow forgot he was there. You and him were in charge of washing dishes for the week, but neither of you had been talking. 

“I just hate washing dishes” you said, not completely lying. 

It went silent again, the only thing filling the air being the sounds of you washing and him rinsing. 

Then that silence was broken. 

“Are you ignoring me?” he asked. You didn't know how to answer. You didn't mean to ignore him. You were just in your head a lot. 

You didn't answer and he sighed. “Did I do something?”

“No” you answered without thinking. It was a reflex at this point. Tomas over thought things a lot and you'd have to remind him not everything was on him. Telling him he wasn't at fault was natural, but you weren't sure who was at fault now. 

“I mean… I don't know. It doesn't matter”

“It does to me”

“Does it?”. 

You closed your eyes and breathed slowly. You were being way too harsh and you knew it. Tomas was asking you to share what was going on in your head, and you were saying no?

You opened your eyes again. Your mouth opened a few times, trying to figure out how to put what you were feeling but it never felt right. 

“I don't know how to get this out. It doesn't even make sense in my head. It won't make sense out loud”

“Just say it anyway and I'll ask you questions if I'm confused”. You wondered how Tomas was so good and patient and wondered if he learned that from one of his parents. Or maybe his sister. Either way, you mentally thanked whoever he learned from. 

“Ok so, I just feel- no. No, I should explain first in chronological order. You came back and then… actually that sounds really accusatory”. You groaned and looked over at him “can you just tell me to shut the fuck up”. 

He smiled a little and shook his head. “I wanna hear it. We have all day”. 

“It's late at night. That is not true”. He didn't respond and he wouldn't until you confessed whatever you were thinking. 

“Chronological order then…”, after some more stumbling and backtracking you managed to get it all out. Why you were jealous, when it started, how conflicted you felt and how ashamed you felt for being jealous in the first place. The whole time he just listened, nodded, and furrowed his brows at some parts. You couldn't tell if it was confusion or anger. 

“I didn't mean it that way” he said when you were done. “When I said 'then we’d be here all day’. I just meant there was a lot of them, which I realize now still sounds bad but I didn't mean it in some 'they were just too beautiful’ way. I didn't hear your sarcasm”

“And I just kept conversation with her to be nice. I don't know. I didn't wanna seem rude”

“Being rude can go a long way”

“I guess. And I noticed your absence, I just didn't know why. I figured you needed space for whatever reason, so I didn't bother you”

“I think it's impossible for you to bother me”. 

Once again, he smiled and let out a small laugh. You looked back down at the soapy water and that's when you felt like a complete idiot. You were worrying him when you could've been had this conversation. 

“I'm an idiot”

“I don’t think so” and you could tell by his voice that he was smirking. “I think you're just really in love with me”

“Ok buddy”. You rolled your eyes, even if he was right. 

“It's cute”

“It's embarrassing”

“Loving me or-”

“Being jealous. I haven't been that jealous before with anyone else”

“I'm not like anyone else”

“You're white. You're quite literally like everyone else-” Tomas flicked water your way, some of it getting in your eye. 

“I'm gonna kill you”

“You wouldn't. You'd get jealous over the Grim Reaper”. You frowned but he kept smiling that stupid smile that was both loving and antagonistic. Then he laughed. A nice heartfelt laugh that ended up making you crack a smile. 

“Are you smiling because I'm laughing?”

“Absolutely not”,  you lied. 

“You really got a thing for me”

“I've never met you a day in my life”

“That's even more embarrassing then if you're that in love with me”. You went to make another smart comment, but he bumped his shoulder against yours “hey”, he said softly. So soft it threw you off guard. “I think it's cute. You're like a little guard dog”. 

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby and now your social cues are scrambled? A guard dog? I'd prefer if you stabbed me. Here-”, you went to grab a knife but he caught your hand. Any other time you would've hated this. Both your hands were soaking and something about the feel of that made you skin crawl, but you guessed you could deal with that. 

“I think it's cute that you love me so much. I just wish you'd be more honest about what you feel. I was worried”. 

You cringed. You supposed that was your fault. You and your dumb brain making shit complicated, which is something you swore was more of a Tomas thing. 

“I'll be better. I promise. I'll start now”

“Now?”

“Now. The texture of you wet hand makes me wanna die. Please unhand me”. He couldn't help but laugh as he let you go, and you couldn't help but laugh as well. 

You didn't know what you were laughing at. 

You were just happy to be laughing together. 

Finally getting back to requests. The crowd goes wild. Tumblr has this big space between lines so I cannot tell if the format is weird and I should add more space or if I’m tweaking. Oh well.