#i think that's gonna add depth sorely needed

[heretherebedork]

Fumiya appears to have taken care of Ritsu in their relationship and felt ignored and now he's reminded of how it felt when Ritsu appreciated his efforts but it only reminds him of how much it hurt when that ended and as much as he misses their relationship he's still hurt from how it fell apart and how Ritsu didn't even seem to realize it was falling apart and he said this was a fresh start but he's not taking the fresh start so I wonder what Fumiya really wants versus what he thinks he wants.

[cheollipop]

Omg I can’t stop thinking about San in Idol Radio justnow…😵‍💫 The way he wanted to hear the members saying they’re his, and the reaction when Mingi said “San-ah I’m yours, use me however you want” made me LOSE IT🫠

My head hasn’t stop thinking about how Domsan will be like and just completely ruining you, pounding you harder and deeper after hearing you speak the words “I’m yours, please use me” ajdfndifjsj help

no fr because that whole episode was so damn fruity??? and yes omg the way san retreated to the back of the room 😭 but anonnie... I need to sue you for emotional damages for putting this idea in my head (and give you lots of smooches for pulling me out of the depths of writer's block mwah)

nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞

"say it again," he muttered into your neck, his words vibrating over the slick skin.

your knees dug into the mattress beside your waist, san's hands gripping your thighs and pushing them down, hovering over you while he folded your body in half. his request echoed in the back of your head, nerves buzzing violently every time he stuffed his cock inside you, the loud melody of skin-on-skin reverberating between the four walls.

"please, 'wanna hear you say it again," he trailed his lips up to your jawline, sliding the tip of his tongue down its slope.

you knew it would drive him crazy, a shy 'I'm yours, please use me however you want' on your lips, the last syllable barely rolling off your tongue before he'd pounced on you—manhandling your body and fucking two loads into your used cunt.

your walls clenched around him, a soft grunt escaping his lips. "(y/n)," he called out again—a needy whine.

"I-I'm yours, Sannie- hnngh!" you managed, arching your back to the best of your ability in the position you were in, san's cockhead pistoning into your g-spot.

"that's right," he panted, pulsing between your walls as he neared his third orgasm. "you're all mine," he pressed his lips to your cheekbone, whispering mine and I love you's in between kisses.

tears streaked down the sides of your face, your thighs trembling around san's body while he pounded into you, a stream of your arousal and his cum being fucked out of you with every thrust.

"gonna breed my pretty girl full of cum," his cock twitched inside you, his rhythm growing eratic. "fuck, baby, you'll be leaking for days," he kissed his way up to your ear, running the tip of his tongue over the outer shell before lowering his voice to a sultry whisper, "and when you're all out, I'll just fuck you full again."

your moans—broken and high-pitched—ripped through your chest, san's lips sealing over yours to swallow them down as you came, your orgasm shaking your whole body in his arms. waves of euphoria rushed through your veins, your pussy pulsing violently around san's cock until a familiar warmth flooded your abdomen. san shuddered on top of you as ribbons of white painted your walls, seeping out of your entrance to add to the puddle under you, his desperate moans echoing in your ear while he slowly fucked his cum into your sopping heat.

san's body rolled to the side with you in his arms, his softening cock still sheathed within your overstimulated pussy. tender kisses peppered over every attainable patch of skin, gentle fingers digging into the sore muscles of your thighs, occasionally moving upwards to rub soothing circles over your lower back. you allowed your exhaustion to tug at your eyelids, ignoring the dull throbbing between your legs while san's delicate touch and his muttered I love you's lulled you to restful slumber.

[nukacourier]

So here's what I wrote last night. The summary is James and Pierre ended up meeting up again after James had left the Mojave, hooked up, and they both end up learning some things about each other. However it's mainly focused on delving into some of Pierre's backstory.

The story will be added under the cut! I'm gonna go ahead and add warnings for child abuse and mentions of transmasc pregnancy (for those that might get dysphoria from it.)

. . .

James stared at Pierre.

Their few hours of love making should've left them both worn down, but Pierre perched on the other side of the room, only in his pants with her knees pulled to his chest as he stared blankly forward and slowly smoked a cigarette.

James, despite feeling wiped out and sore, didn't feel the need to sleep yet. The way his partner sat in such a melancholy way really tickled the deep empathy that made him unable to leave Pierre alone while clearly in a vulnerable state he'd not often seen him in, let alone attempted to speak to her about it on the rare occasion he had.

"You, um...you okay?" He spoke up from where he stood, idly scratching his chest as he tried to play nonchalant with his inquiry.

Pierre seemed to be slowly dragged to the surface of reality from the depths of their mind, and his blue eyes shifted in James' direction, now peering at him out of the corner of her eye. He remained silent for a moment, maybe contemplative, and took another hit off his cigarette before speaking.

"...I'm merely remembering things and trying not to remember them." He answered vaguely, her voice unusually soft and quiet compared to the usual cocky, boisterous tone held.

James wanted to sit close beside him, but knew better than to get so close while she was smoking, especially since he was still trying to stave off the cravings of his old habit as well.

So he simply decided to only close the gap a little by taking a few steps forward and leaning against the concrete beam in the center of the cellar room with his arms crossed, given that was as close as he estimated he could safely be. Thankfully the airflow kept the secondhand smoke from reaching so far.

Pierre's gaze had transfixed back into nothing, slightly off balance as they more than likely stared off into a memory. By the blank look on his face, James could see it wasn't a good one.

"Do you think maybe talking about it might help?" He prodded cautiously, hoping to pull her back out of whatever dark storm had started brewing in his mind.

Again, silence.

Rather than answer the question, he simply responded with another by pulling a cigarette from the pack beside her and extending his hand towards James with it gently held between two of their bony fingers.

"Care to join me for one?"

James shook his head and politely held up a hand to decline.

"No, I'm trying to quit."

Pierre gave a small, yellowed smile and flipped it around a little between his fingers.

"You know me, I'm not one to judge a man for his vices."

As he teased, this irritated James with the displayed pushiness that had been presented so playfully despite his rejection.

"I said no, don't you listen?" He snapped and accidentally let his annoyance fly into a small spike of anger, but almost immediately felt it crash down to guilt as the playfulness drained from Pierre's face and they once again simply looked tired and hollow.

James rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"Sorry. But I really can't smoke anymore." He reiterated with a more gentle approach.

Pierre nodded slowly and pushed the cigarette back down into the package and flipped it shut. She took one more hit off his own cigarette before plucking it from his lips and putting it out by grinding the glowing tip against the concrete floor while a cloud of smoke funneled out of their nostrils and half-parted lips.

"You've seemed a little different lately, besides the heartbreak." Pierre rambled in observation, smoke still lightly billowing from his mouth.

James thought he heard her mumble something under their breath, but couldn't understand due to the very hushed tone and the fact he was likely speaking in his first language of French instead of English. But he could still hear the bitterness in it, and could assume he was only saying unsavory things about Arcade at the mention of James' emotions over his most recent failed relationship.

"...what do you mean, different?" James murmured in question after a slight pause.

Pierre lightly shrugged and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.

"Cautious. Anxious. I can tell you don't wish to eat anymore but you force yourself to. I know it is not for me to not worry over you. I've seen you put yourself through worse."

When their steel blue eyes turned back towards James' direction, they weren't focused on his face, but rather his abdomen instead.

"...would my guess be correct that he left you with a child?" He asked gently.

James uncrossed his arms and softly passed a hand over his lower stomach.

"Yeah." James swallowed back the anxiety as he had to acknowledge it.

"Yeah, that guess would be right."

Pierre fanned away the very last remaining traces of smoke in the air and softly patted the bed mat beside her once the surrounding air was clear.

James pulled himself from his resting spot and slowly strutted over, giving a tired grunt as he lowered himself down to sit beside him.

He was surprised as she tilted her head and rested it on James' shoulder, his blonde hair spilling over it while he snuggled close.

"I'm sorry." He heard him mumble.

"For-?" James asked, genuinely confused on what Pierre could be apologizing for. He at least couldn't think of anything that would call for such a sincere tone of voice.

"You don't deserve so much trouble in your life. Not a man like you."

He saw her lift a hand to gently cling to James' arm, giving a soft squeeze of comfort.

He remained quiet, letting the gentle, caring words sink in.

"It's...it's just a life thing. You can't predict what always happens. Can't change the past, either." He finally mumbled out a reply, dodging his own feelings on it.

But he didn't get any response.

Instead Pierre slowly pulled away and sat upright, getting that same distant look on his face. But this time, instead of her face being cold and reserved, it looked softened. He looked deeply tired, like a tiredness in your soul you couldn't possibly ever sleep away.

"I...I have been...distant. The way you've opened up to me, shown me so many good things about you...and everything else." Pierre abruptly stopped mid speech with a very, very deep sigh.

Despite being a good amount taller than James, in the moment she looked so small and frail. His face was reminiscent of a small child trying to brave their fears as she turned his head to look James in the eye.

"It's not fair I've strung you along. That I've let you be so...kind...but I know you truly don't know me. Maybe I liked that, thinking you could love me despite not knowing a single thing about me..."

He turned away, and exhibited a nervous habit Pierre had never shown around James until now; softly stroking small strands of his hair through her fingers as she slowly started to rock back and forth. James could easily recognize these as self-soothing habits usually seen in children or the deeply distressed.

He patiently waited for Pierre to open up at their own pace, curious as to where this was leading, but not wanting to force anything too painful out by prying.

So he simply watched, eyes soft and full of understanding as he waited.

Pierre glanced at him and the rocking slowed to a near halt, although he still gently continued to pass his fingers down small segments of her hair.

"I feel...it'd only be right. Eye for an eye...let you know what I can't forget."

Her voice had become quiet, and croaked a little with strong emotion.

James cautiously reached out and gently grasped at their shoulder, giving it a reassuring rub in attempt to comfort him.

"It's okay. If it's too much to say, I don't mind. Don't hurt yourself over me." His voice wavered a little, but he still spoke calmly as he reassured Pierre that opening up was entirely optional.

But Pierre shook his head, closing her eyes and letting his head hang slightly.

"I need to. I know I do. Where to begin..."

With another weighted sigh, Pierre leaned back and opened their eyes again, staring straight at the ceiling as he started his story.

"I...when I came here, when...we came here, my family—apparently originally we expected to head to the west side of America and...do something. I don't remember. I was very young. I think...three? But life was apparently going to be better there. Easier."

James cocked his head, surprised to hear mention of a family. He never considered that at one point, this lone wolf of a person might've indeed had one at some point in life.

He continued to listen as Pierre continued rambling.

"But...my mother. I remember. She got very sick somehow, I was never told how or why. But my father had been dedicated to take care of her...I became a bit of an afterthought. I was fed, bathed, put to bed...but during this time he never spoke."

Pierre lowered his head again and gazed at the ground, leaning over and poking around at the pebbles and random fragments of debris on the floor.

"...it's funny. I...didn't like it at the time. But looking back on it now, I wish he'd stayed like that."

She gave a gentle sigh, but still carried on, eyes flickering a bit with indescribable pain while the memories had been recalled.

"Another thing I've remembered and wish I never did. The day she died. He pulled me into the room, she was fading...already looked like a corpse. It scared me, she scared me...and I cried. I tried to turn away but he kept me there. I don't know why. Never knew why he did much of what he did. But...I think he might have seen it that he needed to punish me for even taking a moment of his time from her.

So he had me watch as he buried her...he started speaking to me again, after she was gone, but he...he changed. I remember the first thing he said after such months of silent treatment. Ah...'Why are you crying? Shut up. Would you rather be in that hole instead of her? I wish it was that way instead.' But you know, it wasn't English. So my repeat may be rough."

James felt his throat tighten.

He was already feeling sorry about the state of the story beforehand but this new turn in it hit him like a truck, and he could feel his heart breaking for Pierre as she pushed through his story.

"That's an awful thing to say to a child." He managed to choke out a whisper.

Pierre bobbed his head slowly in a nod of agreement. She took a moment to be silent again, still pushing around small pebbles and tiny chips of glass and just absent-mindedly sorting them into various piles.

It took a long moment of quiet, only the noise of the occasional rock scraping over concrete as Pierre continued the habitual sorting, before another word was spoken.

"Like I said, he changed. To him I was nothing more than some sort of pest. He could not stand to see me. He left me to my room...I'd spend days, I think, alone. Pissing myself and having to leave waste on the floor like an unwanted animal. But I think...I even preferred that over being let out when he would remember I was still alive and would need food or water. I think he only did that to save himself the trouble of smelling a dead body.

Every time that door creaked open...I was met with insults. Um...physical hurt, too. Smacked, punched, kicked. Pure hatred. Being told I am a waste of resources and I would've been traded for my mother if it were possible. I learned to stay quiet in there...he'd forget me if I was. I could...live off some things. Rusty condensation off broken pipes...peeling thin strips of wood off the wall just to get anything in my stomach.

Because I was no longer his child. I was his mistake. His target to scream all his dark, twisted thoughts at. To be used at his hand so he could see pain on another creature that wasn't himself. I..."

His tone was unnervingly nonchalant at first, but that curtain had fallen and Pierre's voice wavered with pain.

James saw his hands visibly shaking, and the chip of concrete she held in his fingers fell on to the ground with a quiet clatter.

He couldn't bear to let them continue without any form of reassurance, but was at a total loss for words.

So many things swam through his head that it was probably just as useful now as it would've been empty.

So instead of saying anything, he simply leaned in and gently wrapped his arm around Pierre's shoulders and gave a small, comforting squeeze.

Pierre trembled in his grasp, and her voice became more frantic and shaky as more words tumbled from his mouth.

"It was hell. I didn't even know why I was kept around when I was hated so much. Some days I wished he'd have taken me out back and shot me like the dog he treated me like—that he'd just end the suffering for me. Why did he do it? Why? Why?!"

Pierre did something James had never seen him do.

He crumpled over, pulling her knees tighter to his chest as he covered his face with his hands and let out a loud, painful sob.

James pulled them even closer, wrapping him in a full hug as his pitiful, muffled wails still drifted out from behind their hands.

Feeling like words would be useless at the moment, he resorted to stroking his hair rhythmically as he rested his cheek on top of Pierre's head.

"Shh, shh...you're not there anymore...you have me now."

He managed to coo out after he'd forced the words past the hard lump of emotion that had embedded in his throat.

Pierre still whimpered and sobbed miserably in his arms, and he could feel tears stinging his own eyes. He was unable to stop them from leaving his eyes and rolling down his face, but continued to hold and stroke Pierre's hair in comfort.

They sat together like this long enough that James' legs had fallen asleep, and his arms were threatening to as well by the time Pierre's intense sobbing had dialed down to stifled hiccups and whimpers.

"Hey, listen...that was a lot of heavy stuff to get off your chest. It's okay if you want to leave it there for now. I won't be going anywhere." He mumbled caringly, gazing down at Pierre even though all he could see was their vaguely hunched over figure and the top of his head.

She shuffled in his arms a bit, pressing closer to James before lifting his head to stare at him.

He looked awful, with their face red and puffy and visible, glistening streaks lining his face from both her eyes and nose. His eyes were bloodshot and looked as though it stung to even keep them open as they blinked groggily at James.

"J-James...stay with me forever?"

Pierre's sore voice carried a genuine innocence nestled in the pain of it that had made James' chest tighten with pity.

He reached a hand down and gently swept some messy strands of hair out of their face and tucked it behind his ears.

"I will. Forever and ever." He murmured lovingly as he lifted his t-shirt to wipe away the still damp tear stains off her face.

Pierre dutifully turned his head into each wipe, then sniffled loudly and lowered their head to press it back against James' chest.

He let out a shuddering sigh as James went back to softly stroking her messy hair.

As James silently held her, he could feel the unsteady, pained breaths even out, becoming slower and deeper until eventually he was certain he had fallen asleep in his arms.

Finally feeling deeply tired, James decided to gently lower both of them down on to the bed mat.

Pierre remained asleep, and as James caught a glimpse of his resting, peaceful face, he could see that poor, broken child still held within her.

It made him look so gentle. Like he had waited all this time to be able to receive the comfort he should've gotten all those years ago.

"Can't change the past." James tiredly and quietly repeated his statement from earlier.

"But I wish I could for you."

He softly kissed Pierre on the top of the head and rested his own on the mat, his eyes feeling heavy as they closed and immediately getting pulled down into a deep, warm slumber.

[yippee-was-taken]

Week 3/4 Puzzle Game Godot Project

I feel more confident about this game as time passes I got most of the other parts of the game in a pretty good state

The options menu allows for button remapping (not sure if I should keep the controller support for the web release), audio mixing and changing bead colors.

And I have a final mechanical change that I think makes the game a lot better.

Breaker Beads!

They'll replace the current bead for a point in the break meter and destroy any adjacent chains. This allows for proper combos once every bead drops post break. I was hesitant to add it in so late, but the game feel like it has a lot more depth to it now, I think it was worth it.

If you noticed an error with the How-To-Play screen inputs not being in the right order, I did too. While I fixed it in the main project, I'm not making another video just for that. Good news, there really isn't that much more programming stuff left to do for the game besides a few optimizations, balancing, making the chain feedback better, and debugging.

I need to look for music soon, I'm not exactly sure where to go for that but I'll manage. Hopefully. Bad news

I don't think it's releasing by the end of the month

I didn't plan out how I'd get my assets well enough. I don't feel right releasing the game when it doesn't look good and when it doesn't have music.

Hopefully I can get a beta release up and running. I'll have a distribution method for that set up by the next post. When the game is fully completed I'll probably make a final post about the game with the Itch.io and Newgrounds links. After this I wanna focus on other skills that I'm sorely missing for a while. Once I'm ready I'll try making another game, though I'm not sure what'll be different that time.

I'll post a final progress update by early June. Wish us luck.

I'm gonna update the How-To-Play text cause I think it's become a little outdated. It's easy to forget about a lot of things man.

[childrenofthenightt]

only the black rose (chapter 8)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: big nsfw warning, drinking, jimmy being himself, fluff

words: 3.6k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: so. layla’s a freak in the... well... not necessarily the sheets, i guess? more stressy hands because they're my weakness, and just... please savour the last bit of happiness you get here. that is all. (two more chappies to go!!!) hope you enjoy :) feedback as always is so very welcome!

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

———

As she’s checking over the stage, ensuring the lights and speakers are set to do their job, Layla’s thoughts roam. After the chaos at the hotel pool, while everyone was asleep, Layla had been anything but. Her tossing and turning had disturbed Jimmy, who had pulled her further into his arms with a tired grunt. She lay there for another hour, her conversation with Jonesy running through her mind over and over. It was obvious she’d have to go back to her own time, and she missed her friends. She missed her mom. She missed everything.

Layla couldn't help, though, but think that maybe she didn’t want to leave.

 She had made friends that meant the world to her, and… she’d found Jimmy. The guitarist had changed her life, and had shown her what it meant to love. She’s falling for him, and it’s not long before she hits the ground. It’ll be worth it, she thinks, for someone like him. Jimmy Page is a rare gem, precious, and she knows that she would spend her life trying to find her way back to him.

A throat clears from behind her, and, looking over her shoulder, Layla spots Peter Grant standing a few feet away. Soft smile resting upon his lips, he steps closer, placing a large hand on Layla’s shoulder.

“Layla, I trust everything’s going well?”

“Yep! Lights and sound are looking good, and the stage is set up. Anything else you need me to do?”

“No, this is perfect, dear,” Peter shakes his head, smile morphing into a smirk as he continues. “Though, you’ve been requested elsewhere. Follow me, Layla.” Leading her through the venue, Peter stops in front of a closed door, a laminated sign next to it reading, “Dressing Room: Led Zeppelin”. Turning to Layla, he holds out an arm, beckoning her to take it.

“Shall we?”

“We shall, Peter.”

Arm in arm, they walk into the room. Robert, lying elegantly across the comfortable couch pressed against the wall, has his eyes closed. He hasn’t thrown up yet, but his voice is hoarse, and he has a terrible cough. Knowing these boys as well as she does, Layla suspects that nothing will bring them down. The show must go on, after all. Bonzo is next to him, Robert’s feet in his lap. The drummer speaks quietly to the sick man, who answers in the voice of a 20-year smoker. Jonesy speaks in hushed tones to Jimmy, eyebrows pinched in worry. Jimmy, Layla realizes, has his finger in a bowl of what looks to be ice water, if the cubes of ice scattered across the table are anything to go by. From the doorway, Layla can’t hear what’s being said, but by the downwards tilt of Jonesy’s lips, she can assume Jimmy’s stubbornness is on full display again. Her entrance with Peter hadn’t been noticed, until Robert’s eyes open to slits and he sits up, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Peter! Ah, look, if it isn’t my favourite little dove…”

“Hey, Robert. How are you feeling?”

“Better, better,” Robert smiles, and stands up to pull Layla into a hug, hands splayed across her back. “All thanks to you, Layla. Seriously, thank you for taking care of me.”

Layla grins in response, waving at Bonzo as she passes. He lifts up a hand, as if to splash the woman, and her face lights up, a giggle flying out past her lips. Layla walks over to Jonesy, and he gives her an uncertain look, beckoning her closer. Leaning close, he whispers into the woman’s ear, a worried glance at the guitarist beside him following.

“He was in a lot of pain, even with the meds, so he, uh… found a bottle of Jack’s and… Layla, he won’t listen.”

As if on cue, Jimmy takes a pull from the large bottle of whiskey that rested next to him on the table. Layla hadn’t noticed it, walking in, but it stuck out like a sore thumb now.

“Hey, petal,” Jimmy slurs slightly, bottle in hand as he sends the woman a lazy smile. Injured finger in plain view now, Layla can see how the nail is completely black, the skin around it still dyed purple from the force applied to it. Layla shakes her head, eyes downcast, as she walks closer to Jimmy. She grasps the bottle of alcohol in his hand, replacing it with her own, a warm palm meeting his.

“Jimmy… you can’t just…” Layla drifts off, not wanting to argue with him this close to showtime. They can always talk about this later, after all. Jimmy, noticing her internal battle even through his alcohol-fueled haze, pulls her into his lap. Jonesy, confident that Jimmy is in good hands, nods at Layla before giving the couple a moment to themselves. Jimmy brings a finger to the apple of Layla’s cheek, stroking it almost hesitantly, as though she would break under a stronger touch. Layla’s eyes, once meeting his, drift to his plump, pink lips. They shine in the artificial light, as he swipes his tongue across to wet them.

“Layla,” Jimmy starts, snapping her out of her trance. Her eyes meet his, and he smirks at her dilated pupils. She knew he had caught her staring, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What is the meaning of life? Please, answer seriously. This is important.”

“Jimmy, I didn’t peg you as someone who indulges in drunk philosophical discussions.”

Jimmy huffs a sigh, and leans in closer, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. Pulling back, he looks at their joined hands, before meeting her eye once more.

“Humour me.”

“Well—”

Before she could answer, Peter floats back into the room, telling the boys to follow him backstage. It’s showtime, and Layla doesn’t want her guitarist to leave yet. Jimmy looks at her expectantly, green eyes searching her face as though the answer to his question was written in the curve of her lips.

“It’s okay, Jimmy,” she says, squeezing the hand in hers, passing courage from one to the other. “We can continue this after the show.”

Jimmy nods, and releases her hand slowly, not wanting to break the contact. Layla hops out of his lap, and helps him stand. Her lips meet his in a soft kiss, as she presses their foreheads together. Their eyelashes flutter against each other, and the scent of citrus, tobacco and pine was ever-present, invading all of Layla’s senses. Jimmy pulls away first, and walks to the door, glancing back at her over his shoulder. She smiles at him, adrift in the empty dressing room, and he smiles back, walking out the door.

“Good luck, angel.” Layla whispers, voice swallowed up by the silence of the deserted dressing room.

Making her way to the familiar lip of the backstage area, Layla’s hands wring together, her lips bitten red. Robert hadn’t sounded well at all earlier, and Jimmy… It seemed like he was deteriorating right before her eyes. The mixture of codeine and Jack Daniels killed the pain, sure, but he was no longer the sharp, pragmatic man she was falling for. He was too caught up in the burn of the drink down his throat, a way to forget the agony rushing through his hand like a current. Bringing her attention back to the stage, she spots the boys, who share a loaded glance. Robert takes a deep breath, and launches right in. ‘Rock and Roll’ passes without a hitch, save for some voice cracks. If anything though, they add to the authentic performance, the crowd electric as usual. ‘Sick Again’ stuns, followed by ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’, and all is well, until ‘How Many More Times’ rolls around.

It was small. Insignificant, really. If Layla hadn’t been searching Jimmy’s face, entranced by the way his brow furrowed as he got lost in the music, she wouldn't have noticed. Breaking apart from the rest of the band to complete a complicated lick, Jimmy’s fingers trip up on the fretboard. To the audience, the only consequence is a slight dead note in the midst of heavenly riffs. Gazing over at Jimmy, however, Layla could see the discomfort in the downwards tilt of his lips, and the pain stiffening his shoulders. She could see the anger flaming in his dark eyes. Jimmy recovers well, delivering attack after attack, though his solos, from that point on, tended to go a little off-track. Whether from nerves or self-doubt, Layla didn't know. But she knows him. She knows the guitarist will let it cloud the entire night. She knows he’s gonna pick the show apart, minute after exhilarating minute, looking for the smallest flaw. Layla knows that she’ll be there for him through it all.

No matter what.

----------

With a hoarse thank you and a flourish directed at the audience, Robert finally leads the band off-stage to voltaic cheers. Robert, ecstatic as ever during the concert, seems to deflate the second he gets off. With a nod and a soft smile at Layla, he disappears into the depths of the backstage area. Jonesy and Bonzo pass by with tight-lipped smiles, clapping her on the shoulder as they follow Robert. Jimmy is the last to appear, and the reason for the rhythm section’s warning glances becomes apparent immediately.

Jimmy scowls as he approaches, eyes glassy, as though she were looking into a clear stream. Layla can see herself reflected in them; can see the worry reflected in her own gaze. Slipping a hand around his bicep, she steers Jimmy into a corner. He refuses to look at her, even as her hand tilts his face upwards softly.

“Jimmy, love, that was—”

“Shit.”

“No, not at all,” Layla steps closer, a hand finding the familiar spot on his cheek. “It was a great show. You saw the audience, Jim. They loved you guys!”

“It was shit, and everyone knows it. If I could just—”

“Jimmy, come on…”

“—be good enough, this would have gone differently.”

Layla’s breath catches, eyes as wide as saucers as she steps closer to the guitarist, who turns away. His gaze at the floor never wavers as he paces, muttering to himself.

“Jimmy, look at me,” Layla stops him in his tracks with a hand at his back. His shoulders heave with deep breaths as he tries to calm himself down. “You played a good gig. It doesn’t matter if you missed a note or two. You came to play a great show, and you did.”

“But it isn't enough. These people came here for an extraordinary show and we couldn't deliver. I couldn't deliver, and—”

“Hey—”

“—if my finger wasn’t broken, we would have been as good as we’ve always been. This is my fault.”

“Jimmy, this isn’t on you. You did nothing wrong.”

Jimmy’s hands fly up to land in his hair, as he pulls at it almost unconsciously. Layla grips his cheek lightly, as the other hand comes to rest at a thin wrist, pulling it away from the dark locks it had latched onto. Jimmy averts his eyes from the woman’s earnest gaze and turns his back once more, treading a hole in the wooden floor of the backstage area. Layla’s palm rubs soft circles into the fabric of his cardigan, patches of whispering dandelions catching on her fingers. From her place behind him, she can see the way he’s beating a fist into the palm of his injured hand repeatedly, perhaps a way to atone for a mistake that hasn’t been committed.

“I fucked up this tour. It’s my fault. I can’t do everything I know I can do, and that’s on me. I just…”

“Jimmy…”

“I can’t do this anymore!”

Layla shrinks back slightly at the exclamation form the man, who is shaking like a leaf. His head drops, long hair hiding his face once again. Recovering quickly, she spins him around carefully to face her. Hands cupping his cheeks, she presses her lips to his. His eyes flutter closed and he immediately reciprocates, a hand pressed to Layla's hips; his new favourite spot for them. Jimmy lets out a whine of pleasure, and Layla pulls away, looking into his tired eyes.

“Jimmy, listen to me. You did play well. I am so, so proud of you. Okay?”

“...Okay. I’ll��� work on trying to believe you.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

If Layla sees the sparkle and shine of tears on the man’s cheeks, she doesn't mention it as she grabs his hand, leading him to an empty room, locking the door immediately.

Finally away from prying eyes, Layla unfurls the guitarist’s hands from their clenched position, bringing the injured one up near her mouth. Gazing up at him, eyes shining in the dim light of the room, she presses a chaste kiss to each finger, slowing as she reaches the one painted shades of purple and black and blue. Jimmy nods, exhale shaky, and she presses the softest of kisses to the tip, hoping to cause pleasure rather than pain.

Jimmy’s hands slide lower from their place on her hips to cup her bum lightly, in case she was uncomfortable and wanted to slip out of his grasp. Her lips find his again as he pushes her against the large table in the middle of the room. Layla lets out a whimper, swallowed by the mouth against hers, as Jimmy’s tongue laps at her bottom lip, asking for entrance. He’s always been soft with her, but this new side of the dark-haired guitarist excited her. The kiss was over as soon as it began, Jimmy pulling away to stare at her, close enough still that their noses touched.

“Petal, I… We were gonna take it slow, and we will, but if you're ready…”

“I’m ready.”

Jimmy smiles, crashing his lips against her quickly, passionately. Pulling back once more, Jimmy smirks as Layla chases the high the feel of his lips gave her. Pressing into his space again, she frowns, which makes Jimmy chuckle. Layla’s hand reaches up, twisting in his hair.

“Angel,” Layla starts, a light tug on a mussed ebony ringlet following the nickname. His mossy eyes were dark with desire, and he placed his lips on her neck, kissing a trail down her jaw, stopping at her collarbone. Slipping the sweat-soaked cardigan off his shoulders, she traces a line down his cheek, eyes glued to his blush-red lips. “Can you lie down on the table for me? Please do try not to break any other body parts.”

“Haven’t I told you I’m afraid of heights?”  Jimmy laughs, and with a small smile thrown over his shoulder, he hops up onto the table.

“You overlooked that, love,” Layla says, unbuttoning her blouse ever-so-slowly, surely teasing the guitarist, who leans back on his elbows. His eyes follow her every move as she takes off the rest of her clothing. “Now, I feel like you might have too many clothes on, Jim. We need to be even, after all.”

Slipping his pants and underwear off in record time, he reclines back, already hard. Fully exposed now, Layla climbs up onto the table as well, straddling the man’s lap, before sinking herself onto him. A calloused hand lands on her hips, helping her find the perfect position, until a soft groan rang through the near-empty room. Jimmy’s hands move up to her breasts, toying with the woman’s nipples, much to her delight. Layla grabs onto his chest for support, craning her head back in pure euphoria at the sensation, the hollow of her neck exposed as Jimmy raises up to nip at it. Grinding her hips to the rhythm of the man’s soft groans, she trails hickies up his chest and neck.

“Something to remember me by.” she says, looking at him with dark eyes, a haze of lust filling them. Hand gripping Layla’s ass tightly, he brings her ever-closer, a mumbled “fuck” leaving the woman’s kiss-bitten lips. The guitarist’s face is creased with absolute exhilaration, as he rocks back and forth to the movement of Layla’s body on his. The couple didn’t know where one ended and the other began. Ecstasy fills the room, and whispers of praise flow like music from lips bruised and bitten.

“You did so well today, angel. You’re incredible.”

Jimmy raises up once more to capture her lips in a bruising kiss, a hand raking through the woman’s hair roughly, landing on her throat. Jimmy squeezes it lightly, warningly, and presses his lips to Layla’s once more, swallowing the shriek of pleasure she gasps out.

“You liked that, petal?” Jimmy’s hoarse voice reaches Layla’s ears almost belatedly, too caught up in the pleasure of his hands on her, though she nods as if her life depended on it. Panting hard now, Layla quickens her pace, noises of pleasure growing louder. With the friction of his hand on her, roaming everywhere it could reach, Layla felt divine; heavenly in this embrace. Leaning down for a heavy, passionate kiss, Jimmy’s hand finds her hair again, and he tugs on it hard. The pain elicits a moan from Layla, as she reaches her peak.

With a stuttered breath, Jimmy releases as well, gasps leaving his lips as he looks at Layla reverently. The wetness from her core rushes over him as she lays back down beside him, spent. Back arching as she pants, her head turns to face him, faces painted with bliss.

In a post-coitus haze, Jimmy has his arms wrapped securely around Layla’s shoulders, as her head rests on his chest. Layla giggles tiredly, as her breaths ruffle the dark hair on Jimmy’s chest. Looking up at him, she’s pleased to see him looking right back at her.

“That certainly cheered you up, didn’t it?”

“You’re the best at cheering me up after all. This, of course, was just a bonus.” Jimmy noses at her messy hair, smelling a combination of fresh linen, sweat and her shampoo; hints of strawberry and mango tickling his nose.

“We should get up, the boys are probably looking for us,” Layla says, dragging light fingers across his stomach, watching goosebumps appear on the pale skin. Whether it’s from the sensation or the chill of the table, Layla didn't know, but she’s comfortable in his embrace, in danger of drifting off.

“What if we just… stayed here forever. They can find another guitarist.”

“You’re pretty irreplaceable, Page,” Layla whispers, reaching up to press her lips to his jaw. “I mean, who would the boys chaperone if you were gone?”

“Chaperone? I’m not that bad. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Right, so Robert was lying about the time you refused to sleep for 5 days out of pure adrenaline? New York, 1973, I believe it was?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought. We need to have a serious talk about your habits, Jimmy.”

With a chuckle from the guitarist, the two lapse into a comfortable silence, as Jimmy presses a kiss to the top of Layla’s head, nuzzling it with his cheek.

“Hey,” Layla shifts to look up at him, eyes filled with adoration. She felt as though she were looking at a star. Beautiful and shining, but out of reach, as much as she wished for the opposite. She knew this couldn’t last, though she’d savour every last minute of it that she could. “I need to… tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, Layla?”

“Nothing’s wrong, really. It’s… kind of the opposite, actually.”

Jimmy tilts his head in confusion, turning on his side to face her. He looked like a puppy, hair wild about his head, and Layla couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“S-So,” Layla shifts, nervous all of a sudden. Jimmy grips her hand in his, and nods when their eyes finally meet. “Do you remember what you asked me earlier? About the… meaning of life. You might not remember, you were a little out of it, and—”

“I remember. You’re rambling, petal. What’s going on?”

“Well, it’s… it’s love. The meaning of life is… love. Jimmy, I…um…”

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I’m… I guess... What I’m trying to say is,” Layla says, taking a deep breath as she looks into the eyes that captivate her, and make her smile, and set her on fire. “I’m falling in love with you, and I just… Yeah.”

Jimmy grins brightly, surging forward to capture her lips in a kiss bursting with joy. He laughs into it, as their noses brush together, his finger tracing nonsensical designs across her side.

“Very eloquently put, Porter.”

“Oh my God, I just confessed that I’m falling for you, and you focus on—”

“I’m falling in love with you too. I thought that may have been obvious, considering the state of this poor table.”

“W-Well,” Layla stutters, blushing crimson as Jimmy’s plush lips tilt up in a picture-perfect smirk. “Put your clothes on, Page. The boys are probably waiting for us.”

Jimmy laughs, but redresses in his stage clothes, turning to stare at Layla as she slips her jeans back on. Buttoning up her shirt and flattening her hair, which frizzed up like a halo around her flushed face, she gazes over at Jimmy. Crowding into his space, she put a hand to the back of his neck, up on her tiptoes to peck at his lips once more. He slips a hand to her cheek, and deepens the kiss. Pulling away to glimpse the golden smile that rests on Layla’s lips, he feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. Arm in arm, they walk out of the room, twin smiles nearly splitting their faces. Jimmy glances over at Layla, and can’t believe just how lucky he is.

Screw falling in love, he thinks.

This is love, and he knows it for sure, now.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso (let me know if you want to be added!)

[winxwrites]

Focus on Me

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral, office sex, exhibitionism (kind of?)

Word count: 2.1K

Description: Your husband has been working tirelessly to complete a business deal. You show up to his office and do your best to take his mind off of things.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Henry so hopefully it isn’t too bad. Feedback is appreciated ❥

“Mrs. Cavill,” one of your husbands business associates greeted you when he noticed you at the front desk.

“Tom!” You exclaimed greeting the man.

“I was just explaining to this nice young woman that I need to head upstairs. For some reason she’s not letting me.”

He placed a friendly kiss on your cheek before addressing the girl behind the desk.  He addressed her in a tone that was only half joking.

“You probably don’t want to give her a hard time, her husband writes your checks.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the man who’d you’d become rather close to over the course of your relationship with Henry. You followed him to the lift.  

“I can’t believe you said that. God, she’s gonna hate me now whenever I stop by.”

The man only laughed as the doors of the elevator shut.

“I’m sure Henry will be glad to see you. We closed the deal with Austrid Corp. two days ago but he’s still been tying up loose ends. Maybe you can get him out of his office before 10 tonight.”

You hummed as response as the elevator halted and the doors opened.  

“Missus,” he sent you a final cheeky grin before heading off to resume his own work.

It wasn’t long before the elevator stopped once more, signaling you had reached your husbands floor. You took the familiar stride down the hall before reaching the part of the floor he inhabited.

His assistant Justin looked up from his laptop when he heard the clink of your heels.

“Mrs. Cavill,” he stood up to greet you formally.

Justin was fresh out of college and definitely a favorite in the laundry list of your Husband’s assistants.

You tilted your head in the direction of your husband’s office. “Is he in? I brought him something to eat.”

The young man looked conflicted as he responded. “He is but he’s um... He’s really busy.” He stuttered out his words. “He said not to let anyone in. He has a really important conference call and he doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

Justin flashed you an apologetic look. You knew Henry was overworking himself and you were determined to get his mind off of things, even if that meant taking him away from work for a moment.

“That’s okay, I understand. I’m just gonna pop in and give him this,” you gestured to the bag and cup of coffee in your hand.

Justin opened his mouth to object but you cut him off and headed for the door of Henry’s office.

“Thanks Justin.”

When you walked in the first thing you heard was your husband’s voice. He was talking to several people and seemed to be wrapping things up.

It took far longer than it should have for him to notice you’d entered his space. Surprise surfaced on his face but he quickly regained his composure and proceeded to finish his discussion.

In the meantime you’d removed your jacked and made yourself at home in his large office space.  You padded over to the window and took in the generous view the expanse offered.

You were dragged out of your solace when your husband spoke your name.

“Darling what are you doing here.” His left eyebrow arched up in a familiar way.

You revealed the bag and cup in your hands. “I come bearing gifts,” you placed the items on top of his desk.

Not even the temptation of food seemed to lift the stressed look on your husband's face.

“Y/N I don’t have time to eat right now I’ve got another call coming in soon.”

Rolling your eyes you walked over to him and perched yourself on his desk.

“Do you know how hard it was for me to even get up here? God, it’d be easier to pop into Buckingham palace and visit the queen.”

At that your husband let out a genuine laugh.

“Darling you really shouldn’t be here. I have a lot of stuff to take care of and I-“

You cut him off before he could add anything else.

“Henry you’ve been working way more than anyone needs to. Babe I know you’re stressed just let me help you, okay?”

Before he could respond his laptop rang signaling an incoming video chat.

A mischievous smirk spread across your face. This could be fun. Henry shot you a warning look before answering the call. “Behave.”

You hummed a response and got up from the desk. Your husband made the necessary small talk before getting into the depth of the meeting.  You paced around the office as his conference became background noise.

You withheld a smirk as a devious idea entered your mind. Positioning yourself directly in front of the desk you slipped the right strap of your dress down your shoulder. Henry continued looking at his screen never breaking concentration.

Wanting to push him further you pulled down the other strap until the top of the dress revealed an ample amount of cleavage. Henry glanced up briefly before looking back down at his laptop.

It took several beats for him to realize what you were doing. You heard men on the other side of his screen discussing numbers and figures as you tugged the dress down your waist.

The silky material pooled on the expensive rug at your feet. There you were stood stark naked in front of your husband and anyone lucky enough to see into the high-rise space. Henry was visibly flustered, his attention focused solely on you. A grin curled the corners of your lips as he flashed you an authoritative look.

“Mr. Cavil? Your company is in agreement correct? Mr. Cavill?” The voice on the other end finally grabbed Henry’s attention.

You laughed as he did his best to regain composure. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim my secretary just popped in to ask a question, she was just leaving.” You knew what he was trying to say. “Where were we again?”

As the man began to explain himself, Henry took the opportunity to briefly mute his end of the call.

“Come here.” The authoritative tone of his voice sent a flash of warmth to your core. He pointed to the spot beside his desk.

You innocently strode over, enjoying the sensual sound your pumps made against the hard wood floor. Henry flashed his eyes to the spot he wanted you in. “Sit down here.”

Once he’d unmuted the call you knew better than to argue. You sat near his legs patiently waiting for the call to end. You began to grow restless at the boring exchange he was engaged in.

An obnoxious sigh left your lips as you looked up at your him. Nothing. Not even a glance in your direction.

There was something about Henry in CEO mode that always turned you on. Seeing the businessman side of him sent a sense of arousal through you that wouldn’t subside.

Henry slid back in his chair and cast you a look when he felt you tug at his pant leg. He knew what you were asking for but he refused to give you permission.

He had a playful glint in his eyes as he turned back and continued to talk to his associates. You took this as an opportunity to move between his legs.

Henry visibly gulped as your hand reached up to cup the crotch of his pants. Your fingers traced the outline of his semi erect member before locating his zipper. Henry’s breath hitched in his throat as your hand slipped into his briefs and removed his cock. You were pleased to see a thin stream of precum already leaking from the engorged head.

You were already in enough trouble as it was, might as well finish the job. You looked up wanting to see his reaction as you leaned forward and licked a long stripe from the base of his cock to the head. You could practically feel your husband’s concentration slip away from the businessmen and towards you as you took his tip in your mouth and began to suck.

It took everything in Henry not to end the call and bend you over the desk at that exact moment. He reached down and cupped the back of your head, guiding you further down his shaft.  

His overzealous hand created a steady pace as he fucked into your mouth. You happily accepted him further into your throat taking everything he gave you. One of your hands played with his balls as the other made its way to your exposed cunt. You were sure there would be a puddle there by the time the conference call was over.

A soft moan left your mouth as your finger drew circles over your clit. The vibration sent a surge through Henry and he himself released a low moan.

The men on the other side of the call must have heard something as one of them asked if everything was okay.

Henry regained composure and cleared his throat much louder than necessary. “Sorry just had a tickle in my throat. With the weather changing and all I think I’m coming down with something.”

If your mouth wasn’t stuffed you would’ve cackled as one of the men suggested tea as a remedy for Henry’s supposedly sore throat.

You removed his cock from your mouth completely and placed kisses over his shaft. His cock was scattered with traces of your lipstick stain.  You could tell he was close by the way his thighs clenched underneath your palms.

Deciding to relieve him of his agony you took him back into your mouth as far as you could. You used your hands to grip the parts you couldn’t take in. Henry pushed you further onto his cock as he wrapped up the discussion.

The conversation couldn’t end fast enough for Henry as he felt your tongue lick over the underside of his dick.  You knew it was only a matter of seconds before he’d come undone.

Henry slightly thrusted up as his orgasm pulsed through him. You did your best to work him through it, swallowing every drop he gave you.  You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue showing him not a single drop remained.

Henry remove his hands from your hair and reached to close his laptop. You took the tip of his cock into your mouth and sucked gently before your husband finally addressed you.

“You know you’re going to pay for that when I get home, right?”

Even through his threat you could tell he was thankful for the release. His thumb moved to the corner of your mouth to swipe some of your lipstick that had smudged.

“You look so pretty from this view.” He grabbed your hand and guided you to sit in his lap.

“Thank you for that. You always take care of me so well.”

You ran your fingers through his curls. “Does this mean you’ll be home before dark tonight?”

Henry smirked and moved his hands to grip your exposed waist. “Of course love. I’ve still got to give you your punishment. Although, I could take care of that right here…” you could feel his dick twitch against your thigh at the implication.

Another stream of arousal ran through you at the proposition. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

Three rapid knocks on the door garnered both of your attention.

“Mr. Cavill, Mr. Stevens just sent up some paperwork that requires your signature.”

The mischievous look on your man’s face told you he was in the mood to mess with you.

“Of course Justin. Just a second.”

You scrambled off of your husbands lap just in time to take shelter hidden by his desk. “Alright come on in.”

The assistant made his way in and handed the documents over. Your breath hitched as the man’s feet halted in front of the desk as he waited for the papers to be returned.

“Alright here you are.” Thank God.

Justin uttered a thank you and made his way towards the door. A cream colored article of clothing caught his eye.  There was a beat of silence before he turned back to face your husband.

“I just... I could have sworn Mrs. Cavill came in to see you.”

You could hear the humor in Henry’s voice as he addressed the confused young man.

“Did she now? Haven’t seen her since I left home this morning.”

The curious man took in the sight of the dress and the take out items on top of the desk.

“My mistake.”

[artsninspo]

Unexpected Renaissance (Tre X Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Trevante Rhodes X Reader

Word count: 1.9K 

Summary: When Tre and the reader meet at his fraternity’s party they have no idea the kind of bond heading up to his room is bound to create. 

---

I was in my junior year of college when you met Tre. A totally different person; stuck up, condescending and exclusively committed to your artistic pursuits. I felt disconnected from my culture but connected to my ancestry unable to find beauty in the mundane everyday stuff that makes black beautiful. Guess surburbia and privilege can do that to a person. My mother decided to take a sabbatical and my father being a dean organized my special permission to have a roving semester. I was never interested in my mother’s mystification of the south or how she spoke about it with all its lore.

I was mortified to hear my cousin Toya didn’t know what to do with her life. But tapping into my inner artist you listened anyway considering it might be good inspiration for some work. While both of my parents went to survey some family land Toya painted my face.

“You ever been to a college party?” She asked.

“Of course… I’m in college” I stated obviously making Toya snicker.

“You’re a real bitch you know that. But still you my cousin - that’s what this family does they judge me. But you see, I’m a real bitch, I’m not gonna let you go out sad in whatever this shit is. Aren’t you supposed to be an artist?” She asked the real deal from then. “Is it avant garde or some shit I don’t understand?” She added making me smile.

“Some shit” I nodded.

“Yeah well you ain’t about to wear them rags around me. What size are you?” She asked.

“12”

“I’m sure my mama got something laying around that looks better than those rags. Cause I bet you’re into that classist sustainability bullshit too huh” Toya snapped.

“Yes I am, but I think it should start with the corporations and the rich. The lower classes naturally practice many sustainable methods.” I acknowledged.

“Good, then you ain’t all the way air headed” she commented pulling out a dress.

“I’m not a scholar I’m an artist” I clarified.

“They make y’all pay for that too? Any of those niggas in museums degreed up?” Toya asked smug as always.

“You’d do well in intellectual circles.” I commented putting on the dress and denim jacket.

“And you’re about to tear up this party” she smiled looking at me in disbelief.

The ride to campus was short and we could hear the music from the house once we got out the car. I’d never been to an HBCU before. I especially stayed away from fratboys. I watched as people greeted Toya with familiarity.

“Who’s your homegirl?” One of the guys asked. Clearly high ranking in the sorority by his confidence and posturing.

“Met her at the hair store, you said you want pretty girls” Toya justified omitting our familial relations, taking his hand and disappearing. It wasn’t until about an hour or so later that she returned and him and a few other guys got into line that I saw Tre. His movement in the stroll caught my eye and so did his arms.he had this elegance and the way the light his his skin was perfect. I didn’t realize I was staring until he was beside me. I got a closer look at his biceps .

“Tre, like what you see?” He introduced and I snickered wiping my eyes at his confidence.

“You crossed the room” I noted.

“I thought it was the right thing to do with you staring so hard” he commented. He kept talking but my mind was wrapped up on all the pieces I could create with him as the subject. My final project was on black version of renaissance art.

“What does your penis look like?” I asked interrupting him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wow, you came in with Toya right? That happened pretty fast” he swallowed as his air of confidence deflated slightly.

“What’s it look like, you have pictures on your phone?” I asked.

“Is it a prerequisite?” He asked and nodded.

“Actually it is” I responded truthfully. The tiny penises on the most renowned works of art never sat well with me. Appreciating the beauty of the sculptors work only so see those tiny members always was a sore point. Tre motioned for me to follow him in his room. I noticed eyes on us, even Toyas. He closed the door and I looked around a bit noting the minimal design.

“I bet that bed is filthy”

“Nah, I like clean sheets” he commented taking his shirt off leaving his gold chain. It made me smiled as I decided to add that touch.

“How tall are you?”

“Six feet” he noted as you stored the I information in my memory bank trying to consider how expensive it would be to do a life size sculpture in dark stone.

“Fuck” I muttered making him smile.

“You don’t want no foreplay or nothing, we can just get to it?” He asked dropping his pants and by far the best shaped and well endowed nude model I’d ever come across. Not to mention he was handsome. I circled him using my gift - a laser accurate photographic memory. I needed the body to be perfect. I could ask him for pictures of his face later I thought.

When I got up from looking at his member there was sheer confusion in his eyes.

“What, you want me to sit?” He asked confusing me.

“You can put your clothes back on.” I commented ecstatic.

“What the fuck?” He asked dressing. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

“I’m sorry, you just had perfect biceps. I’m an artist and I think you’d be an excellent sculpture. I’m probably gonna sketch you when I get back home” I told him as he grabbed his shirt. He was dumbfounded and annoyed.

“What kind of-“ he started about to blast me so I pulled out my phone finally coming back into reality and the evident danger.

“Look, I’m an artist - senior year I want to have a collection, enough for an exhibit. I’ve been waiting for the perfect subject to model a sculpture after. Michelangelo’s David is beautiful. He may have me in skill but you have David by at least six inches. In scale” I explained tempering the tension and complementing his manhood. The fire faded in his eyes as he looked through my digital portfolio.

“You did all this” he looked surprised and impressed.

“Yeah, I think it’s important for black people to enjoy art they can see themselves in” I admitted.

“You’re lucky you think my biceps are beautiful any other guy would have been fucked up with you getting that close and not sucking” he said frankly.

“My sincerest apologies.” I admitted and he smiled. “Think Toyas ready to go?” I asked.

“Nah” Tre said telling me she was occupied with his eyes.

“Alright thanks, thanks for being cool about my request” I nodded.

...

Tre was different than any other subject. It was like he was iridescent. I got another dimension another colour, more depth anytime I looked at him. Toya came home from her work one day saying Tre wanted me to call him. She never asked about that night so I didn’t say anything. We talked all night. Then there was another party and this time I went with my sketchbook and coals he stood with shirtless as I tried capturing his chest and shoulders having finished his rough outline.

Then he was visiting museums with me. Stopping by my makeshift studio in the sabbatical house nearly shitting himself every time pops came in to inquire about my progress. He was there when I cursed out suppliers and cried at the cost of a life sized adaptation, immortalization through art. He was there when the sabbatical and semester were over and we were heading back home. Then there was a Tre sized hole with me. I missed him, I missed our conversations and somehow all the art school politics, drama and preoccupations meant a little less. I found myself drifting away from superficial and towards real. My renaissance was happening at the same time I was preparing my exhibit. My Mona Lisa had brown skin and cornrows — it was Toya.

Tre and I didn’t cross paths again because of my travels until my graduation. He was visibly absent from the exhibit and frustrated about it. I’d never put out anything wit I’m that wasn’t perfect. I showed him my favourite places, I just got my own place afforded by my art instead of my parents wealth. We had sex that night, a fitting way to celebrate. He’d made a comment about not seeing me naked and how it wasn’t fair. I told him he wasn’t going to. Wrapped my insecurity on the moral high ground of not living for the visual satisfaction of men. Tre being Tre - a good man let me get away with it. Still we ended up in my unlit living room going at it on the couch. He used his hands to make mental notes. He took his hands feeling every curve, every roll every imperfection before showing me sex with artistic geniuses and proteges was nothing. I knew I loved him when he woke up and covered me over respecting my wishes about being seen. Somehow that night turned into every night for two weeks. Then he moved in three weeks later. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

I slide my stool back looking at the life sized sculpture of my man. I swallow a little emotional about it finally coming to an end. I swallow standing and daring to probe it for imperfections as my greatest critic. No one knows this body like I do.

“Tre!” I scream. “Tre!” I repeat with urgency like it can animate and walk out of the studio. He comes sleepily leaning in the doorway with his eyes barely open.

“What’s wrong babe?” He asks.

“Babe, it’s finished, four years later it’s finished” I squeal jumping into his arms and it’s a miracle he catches me smiling as he holds me close. I’ve never toiled at anything this long.

“So are you sick of looking at me yet?” He teases and I smile as he kisses me.

“No”

“You said once you finish we can start our family” he says with a one track mind.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” I retort.

“No” he admits.

I smile having denied him kids for the past two years since we’ve been married. The first year we were honeymooners and then the pressure for kids began. He stood with me in solidarity for the public while wearing me out behind closed doors. I stopped taking my birth control six months ago and have been neglecting my real husband for the art piece.

I step down from his hold taking off my glasses and gloves.

“Tre?” I ask putting things back in their place.

“Yeah?”

“I need you for something else” I admit and he swallows nodding despite his agitation the greatest husband ever. I can never thank Toya enough for dragging me to that party.

“What babe?”

“Let’s get started on our greatest masterpiece yet” I smile and it takes the double-entendre awhile to set in before he smiles ready and we get started.

______________

TAGLIST:

@determinednot2fall @twistedcharismaaa​ @l-auteuse​ @chaneajoyyy​ @thickemadame​ @longpause-awkwardsmile​ @klaylakayblack​ @amelatonin​ @just-juicee​ @xo-goldengirl​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @itsjustyazz​ @soufcakmistress​ @nijajoha  @iamrheaspeaks @4tprincess  @justgetitoverwith0​ @queenflaws @abeautifulmindexposed @coveredingodiv @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​@champagnesugamama​ @heavensangelxo​ @bugngiz​ @cherrystainedlipsbaby​ @tip222u​ @keiva1000​ @doublesidedscoobysnacks​ @shalynn-m​ @bakarilennox​ @tyees​ @damienwitcher 

[backdraft-bimbo]

tfatws 1x01 thoughts

Okay I already love it. This show has a very strong start–good exposition of the characters, the aftermath of the Blip, and the introductions of the antagonist force. 

I’m super impressed at how “movie-like” it is visually and the unique tone is carrying on real well. I ended the episode being like, “I need more. That cannot be it.” It went by really fast. 

First off, I can feel how different this show is gonna be from other Marvel content. Without even saying it directly, but by watching how the plot progresses and the politics and character interactions, it’s clear this show is gonna hit some sore spots for America. I’m so on board for that–it finally feels less super-hero-y and more human. Real issues. Real PEOPLE. 

Sam is clearly struggling with the mantle of Captain America, and he knows that other people would too if he took it, so he doesn’t step up. And you can’t blame him, clearly Rhodes doesn’t either. It’s a hard role to fill, especially since Cap was your stereotypical strong white American hero. And anyone who’s not a complete ignoramus knows that there would be a lot of backlash and hate directed at Sam if he, a black man, replaced Steve Rogers. No matter how skilled and awesome for the role he is. Like literally just look at real life right now. This show announcing Sam Wilson as the new Cap juxtaposes the reaction by a portion of Americans in this show. Some people weren’t happy about it. Others loved it. It’s a mirror to our country’s long-standing flaws. 

The whole segment with Sam’s sister and trying to get a loan made me so sad but like, it’s realistic. I’m glad we’re getting more good female characters in the Marvel universe, and their dynamic is really nice. I especially loved the ambience of the Wilson boat where Sam is standing there in silence, just staring off into the window with seagull noises in the background... it just felt really calming. There aren’t many quiet moments like that in action heavy Marvel films. It’s adding depth to the world. Also his nephews are so cute! 

The scene where Sam is fighting mid air was so badass...bruh. Anthony Mackie CARRIES. I’m kinda overwhelmed at how much I know about Sam Wilson now just because of one episode. Shows that the tiny details really add a lot of depth and make them feel more real. Sam’s little “What’s up” made me giggle a lot. And the new air force dude, I’m a fan of him. He’s cute and I think he’ll be recurring. 

Then there’s Bucky’s whole part of the episode, which I just gotta say broke my heart over again. He really is a compassionate guy who went through awful things and he’s just trying to find some peace, like he mentioned to his therapist. Which was such a strong scene, btw. I loved that. Also Sam has been texting him!! I’m so excited to see them interact and get that spicy dynamic we love, but alongside more serious moments where they open up to each other; letting down the walls Bucky has to confide in Sam, and Sam confiding in Bucky about his doubts in becoming Cap. I just really want them to bond. A lot. And hug. Pull throughhhh. 

And Bucky with his notebook of peoples’ names that he needed to make amends (I think that’s what it was) was SO heartwrenching to see. You can feel him becoming more human as a character. No more Winter Soldier–we get Bucky Barnes now. You can just feel it in Sebastian’s performance how well he knows Bucky, and the guilt on his face when he interacts with that old Japanese guy was so tragic. It looked like he wanted to tell him he killed his son, but there’s that visible internal struggle of having to trust someone and knowing it won’t go well. I really really want to give him a hug. 

But there was some humor sprinkled in this episode, which I appreciated. It didn’t feel forced though, more of like a Spiderman: Homecoming vibe where the humor is a lot more situational and how people would actually act. 

Anyway I don’t want to wait another week. I have work tomorrow but if they released all the episodes at once I would 100 percent binge it all into the early morning. GO WATCH IT.

[logan-please-smile-speaks]

[Long, Tw food (in depth descriptions), brief references to unnamed heavenly beings of no specified religion, brief reference to hell. Not really any angst. Just good Dadza.]

[Hurt/comfort my beloved]

Me: i can't write

Also me: writes an entire fic by accident while telling my friend about an idea I had

(I'm gonna need this ask back at some point so don't keep it too long, okay? But make sure to take care of yourself (unlike Techno sksksks))

(How many words is this) (Cenn I've been writing this for like 3-4 hours. I've been hyperfixating on this)

-@2ble

I had this really cute idea where Techno gets sick after doomsday and Dadza takes care of him (for an animatic, or? How should i draw techno?)

Phil's Dadza side kicks in. He gently pushes Techno, who is in full garb back into bed. "Techno, you're sick. You can't go."

"But I haven't streamed in 2 weeks!"

"Rest."

Techno turns on his side in bed. Dadza gently pulls the blankets up and tucks them around Techno. Techno begins to cough, and the coughs rack his body. Dadza's expression is soft and concerned. He rubs his hand on Techno's back until he stops coughing. Techno closes his eyes. He's exhausted.

Dadza takes Techno's crown and places it on the bedside table.

He observes his ill friend. Techno is nothing like what he was up until Doomsday. He seemed--weak. Vulnerable. Sick.

"Have you had anything to eat, Techno?"

Techno doesn't open his eyes. He shakes his head. "I ran out of food a few days ago. I meant to get more but..." Techno doesn't want to admit that he couldn't get downstairs. He doesn't want to admit to weakness, to vulnerability. But everytime he thought of searching through chests, of trading with the villagers, they just seemed so far away.

Phil noticed a tear leaking out from Techno's eyelid. If he brushed it away, Techno would feel worse about his state because it would mean he was in fact vulnerable.

"I'll make you some stew."

Phil goes downstairs and tends to the fireplace. The fire seemed to have gone out sometime between now and the last time Phil checked on Techno.

How long has the house been this cold?

Phil builds up the fire and puts a cauldron over it. He makes mushroom stew because he doesn't know if techno can stomach rabbit stew.

When it's ready, he ladels it into a bowl and climbs the ladder.

Hanging off the ladder by one hand, he calls out. "Techno, stew's ready."

Techno's eyes flutter open. He sees his friend holding out a bowl of food and his eyes widen.

Phil notices that Techno is sweating and the blanket strewn to the side, only covering his feet.

"Are you too hot mate?" he asks.

Techno is broiling but he can't summon the strength to take off his outer clothes. His body refuses.

He's more focused on food. He's starving, and his body uses up what little resources it has left to sweat.

Phil walks over and puts the stew on the table. The heavenly aroma fills the room.

"Let's get this coat off of you." Phil reaches around Techno and unclasps the chain on his neck. He gently pulls the coat off of Techno's arm but he's still laying on it.

"Techno," Phil says.

"Whaaat," Techno drawls.

"You got to let me get this coat off ya mate."

Techno lets out a deep groan, then turns over on his stomach so his other arm is towards Phil.

Phil reaches under techno and grasps the coat. He pulls it out from under Techno and off his arm. The sleeve turns inside out. Phil fixes the sleeve and hangs up the coat.

Techno's shirt is drenched in sweat. He rolls over and starts fidddling with the button closest to his throat, looking up at Phil.

"Here, I'll get that for you." Phil undoes the button. He can't imagine how tired techno must've been after Doomsday, that he just collapsed in bed fully clothed, not even bothering to loosen them.

At least he took off his armor. Sh-t's heavy, he thinks. Phil ignores the fact that after the adrenaline and excitement wore off, the sore and tired Technoblade probably couldn't move with it on.

Phil pulls the blanket off the bed entirely, folds it, and places it on the table next to the stew. He pulls off Techno's shoes and socks and puts them near his coat.

They were also drenched with sweat, not to mention the smell--but it doesn't bother Phil all that much. He's smelled worse. He's frowns at the imprints on Techno's legs from the socks.

Phil loosens the rest of Techno's clothes. Techno seemed to were his tightest, least comfortable, most regal outfit to Doomsday.

Lucky for them both most of that was just accesories and pins, and Phil could easily remove those.

While Phil was doing this, Techno had been lying on his back, eyes closed. Though Techno tended to be stone-faced, Phil noticed the relief on Techno's face.

"How you feelin', Techno?"

"Philzaaa,"

"Yeah?"

Techno opens his eyes halfway, just enough to see Philza and the bottom of the bed.

"Do you have water?"

Phil procures a water bucket from his bag. "Thirsty mate?"

Techno looks at the water bucket and a small smile creeps over his face.

Phil smiles at his friend. He moves to the head of the bed and looped his arm and tattered wing around Techno and sits him up.

He holds the bucket up to Techno's mouth and tips it to his lips. Techno sips gratefully as the cool liquid pours over his hot, dry mouth and down his throat, cooling him from the inside.

"You've lost quite a bit of fluid, mate."

Techno lets some of the cold water slip out the sides of his mouth and drip down his face. His skin is boiling. The water dropelts running down his skin feel like heavenly beings allowing drops of mercy to fall upon him in the pit of hell.

Techno pulls back briefly to swallow and catch his breath and Phil rights the bucket. Techno leans in again for more water.

After drinking his fill, Techno leans back and wipes his mouth with his arm.

"All done, Techno?"

Techno swings his arms up knocks the bucket out of Phil's hand, dumping it on his head. The gush of water cools Techno, drenches the bed, and spills all over the room. Phil can't help but laugh. He picks up the bucket and scoops up the water source. He puts the bucket back in his bag.

"Had enough of the water?"

"Philza--I gotta be honest with you, Philza I haven't felt this good in weeks."

Phil laughs again even louder. The two friends are now in a good mood.

"Well now your stew is probably cold too." Phil tastes it. "Actually it's a bit warm still. Not too hot, either."

Techno scoots towards the wall and leans on it. He reaches for the bowl.

"Oh, no you don't."

"Phil, I'm a grown man-pig. I can hold a bowl."

"Maybe on a good day, Techno, but three minutes ago you couldn't sit up by yourself. No offense mate, but I don't think your arms have enough stamina right now. Now come on and eat."

Phil lifts the bowl to Techno's lips and lets him sip at his own pace. He pulls it back.

"How does it taste?"

"Pretty good but could maybe use a little salt."

"Eh, you probably need electrolytes as well after sweating through your clothes and drinking all that water."

Phil put the bowl on the downstairs counter.

Phil found salt in the downstairs chest and stirred it into the cauldron.

He heard the bowl fall to the floor behind him. It fell facedown and spilt on the floor.

Phil swore quietly.

He got a new bowl and more stew from the cauldron.

"How is it?" Techno inquired.

"Try for yourself," Phil said. He smiled as he held the bowl to Techno.

Techno looked at the bowl, then up at Phil. He took a sip.

Techno pulled back and looked at the bowl.

Phil thought he may have tainted the stew somehow. "Is it bad?" he started to say.

But he didn't quite get out anything after "Is" because Techno cut him off.

"It's delicious." Techno looked up at his friend. "Philza Minecraft, you should be a chef. This is the most wonderful thing I've ever tasted."

Phil chuckled. "All I did was add salt, what ya mean?"

"Phil, you have to sell this stew to the rest of the SMP. We could get rich!"

"Techno, I think the sickness may have gotten to your head a bit."

"Phil, I've never been more serious about anything in my entire life. We could be the the most powerful people on the server!"

"We already are. We just blew up a country. Down to bedrock."

"But we could get even more rich and powerful!"

"Well I'll be happy to listen after you eat. And rest. And bathe."

"I don't need to bathe."

"You're not getting out of it. You reek, mate."

"You can't judge me by the smell!"

"I'm not worried about the smell so much as what the smell tells me about your body. I don't know when the last time you washed was but it was definitely before Doomsday and I can't have you laying in your own sweat and filth for much longer. It's sh-t for your health, Techno."

"Philza--"

"Please just eat, Techno."

Techno leaned his head forward slightly and Phil pressed the bowl to Techno's lips.

Techno closed his eyes and savored the flavors. They were so pleasant, so soothing, so comforting. They reminded him of a time when he was safe and there was no betrayal. No war. No need for violence and bloodshed and destruction.

Phil, being a good Dadza friend, made sure that Techno ate an entire bowl. He brought Techno another bowl upon his request, of which he ate half, then left the other half bowl on the table in case Techno got hungry later.

After changing Techno's bed to clean, dry sheets and tucking his friend back into bed, he went downstairs to clean up the spill. He told Techno he would be back at sunrise to check on him. Though he might come earlier just in case. Sunrise was just the latest. Phil had decided that since Techno had gotten through the brunt of his hibernation and was now waking up sick, he should check on him at least twice a day.

Phil scrubbed the dried stew off the floor. He wondered what could've made Techno love it so much. Mere salt couldn't have made it so delicious, could it?

Phil finished cleaning the floor and the bowl and put everything away. As he was about to leave, he stopped. Eyes locked on the cauldron. There was something about it.

I can't leave that there, he reasoned. It will go to waste. If Techno like it, I can't let it waste or burn. I should freeze it outside.

Phil took out a bowl and knelt in front of the fire place. He scoop up big, full ladels into his bowl. Could it be that the soup was really that much better with something as basic as salt?

Phil dipped his finger in the bowl and sucked the stew off of it. He was instantly transported to his childhood. His mind played out feelings of safety, of healing, of comfort, of rest.

He heard his family laughing, remembered learning how to fly, the first time he soared high, feeling the wind beneath his wings. He remembered when Wilbur was born, holding the tiny baby in his arms, filled with love. "I'll always protect you. I'll always be there for you." When he met Techno, when he built the bee farm, and so on.

Phil was moved to tears. He felt loved. He felt like someone loved him no matter his flaws, his mistakes. Phil cried.

It was not out of pain but rather emotion. He wiped away his tears and drank the rest of the stew in his bowl, but it only caused more tears to stream down his face.

Techno was right.

Outside, watching through the window was the one who made the soup what it was. It wasn't Phil's salt.

He stood on his hind legs, paws pressed against the wall of the house.

He had been listening to the two friends talk, had been watching protectively as the wind ruffled his thick white fur.

He was Technoblade's guardian.

Soon he would be called Steve.

2ble this is literally amazing hello????

[lizacstuff]

Sen Çal Kapımı / Edser ask from episode 43 (2x04)

AKA Serkan’s episode. 

There is also speculation about episode 44 based on the fragmans and a few random asks

 (Asks under the cut)

Anonymous asked: Hey, Liza! How did you like the ep? I still get chills when watching the diary x video scene and the final one.. Finally the truth is out to both Serkan and Kiraz! And that fragman! 😍 but It seems like Aydan filing for custody will be the new drama, do you think it will last long? Because I highly doubt that they will give solely happy edser and Kiraz in remaining episodes..

My full episode thoughts are here,  but I agree the diary and video scene was spectacular. It makes me teary every time. 

I’m also psyched that the truth is out. Truthfully, I was one that wanted Serkan to find out at the end of the first episode, but now I concede that it was better to draw it out a bit to really build everything up to this episode and his journey to letting go of his fears. What a character arc they gave him. They really explored Serkan and what drives him this episode and it was a treat-- a painful treat-- to watch it all unfold and for him to finally admit what had driven him to push her away all those years ago and what was still holding him back in the present. 

As for what’s next, that’s a great question. I agree that it’s unlikely we’re going to get happy Edser family from here on out, there has to be some obstacles and drama before we get to the end. The Aydan custody drama will clearly be the conflict in episode 5, but I don’t see it as any real barrier for Eda and Serkan. We see in the second fragman that Eda is already confronting Serkan about it, so if Aydan is doing something underhanded they can’t draw it out too long. 

I assume that while the custody thing may cause a wee bit of miscommunication between Eda and Serkan, I think it mostly will serve as fodder for Aydan and Ayfer’s relationship dynamic and give the supporting characters something to run around and chase after while Eda, Serkan and Kiraz actually start forming their new family unit. If anything it might serve as a catalyst for Serkan. Picture it, Eda confronts Serkan about it and Serkan is like “I don’t know anything about that, I wouldn’t do something that would hurt you or Kiraz, but I do want her, I want us.” You know, serve to clarify things.  

There are probably a few episodes of family drama in store for us as everyone, including Eda, Serkan and Kiraz adjust to this new reality. I assume once the euphoria of having her Baba back wears off for Kiraz, she might ask some questions that are hard for Eda and Serkan to answer. We shall see. 

Anonymous asked: i don't think i've cried THIS much at an sck episode... in like ever lmao. i was full on silent sobbing at serkan watching kiraz's baby videos.. but the scene i really loved the most was the one where they have it out after that fancy dinner. it was EVERYTHING we needed to hear serkan's POV and i almost can't believe a lot of us got the "can't have kids" theory right. i have loved so much this season how edser have communicated, even when it's painful and hard.. it was sorely missing for them.

I know! The communication! I don’t think they’ve ever communicated like this. Of course their issues were not as deep and nuanced back in the first batch of episodes so going this in-depth wasn’t necessary, but they didn’t communicate like this when dealing with Babaanne or when it was really needed after the amnesia era.  

Honestly, so pleased the “can’t have kids” theory was correct. It goes so far in explaining his actions and thought process when pushing her away, as distorted as that thought process was.  It truly was selfless, because I’m sure all he wanted was to hold her tight and never let go, but it was also so unnecessary. Their love story has just been so tragic, but if you think about how many things were stacked against them, it’s also stunning that their love has persevered. They were so opposite and unlikely to fall in love to begin with and then you add in all the things that stood in their way, meddling mothers, family secrets, Serkan’s father being responsible for her parents death, evil, rich, powerful grandmother using everything in her considerable arsenal to keep them apart, psycho stalkers, kidnapping princes, crashing planes, amnesia, brainwashing and abusive exes, plotting “friends,” tumor, cancer, separation!

To come out of all of that and to see they are clearly still in love with one another... well they really don’t have any other choice. They should get married immediately with no pomp and circumstance just so they are legally tied together. So when the next tragic, catastrophic thing comes along it will be that much harder to pull them apart.  

Anonymous asked: deniz and burak are the most harmless "3rd party" characters we've ever had in the show that it almost makes me laugh when ppl get so insecure about them.. especially with burak, knowing that he's gonna be melo's love interest, even if i don't want it. like, sure serkan is naturally gonna be jealous, maybe possessive, because of "buba" but it's all being shown right now as light comedic relief.. i've seen some people REALLY take it to heart when it really doesn't seem like it's that deep lol.

I know, it’s all so mild. They also aren’t actually even third party love interests, because there is absolutely zero interest from either side of the main pair. Both are there to a) serve plot purposes and b) show that neither Eda or Serkan is interested in anybody else. It’s nice, we get to see that while they both have had options, neither has been able to move on and both have chosen to remain alone. 

As for driving the plot, Burak’s presence was necessary because they needed someone who Serkan thought was Kiraz’s father, and Deniz was necessary because they needed someone who would do whatever Serkan wanted when Serkan wanted to force proximity with Eda. 

Looking at the fragman, the real “triangle” might be Buba - Kiraz - Baba  but I also think that will mostly be played for laughs.  A way to give us some “Drain the pool” and “Burn the flowers” type jealousy moments from Serkan, since that was a hallmark of Ayse’s early writing. 

However, I can see why some folks were put-off by that vibe. Because, yes, if you’ve been standing in as a male-figure for the 5-year-old daughter of the woman you’re tying to woo (let’s not pretend that’s not why Burak takes such an interest in Kiraz) and the father that the 5-year-old has been wanting and pining for actually re-enters the picture, maybe you don’t need to force your way in and have “Buba day” the day after he returns. I’m not saying you can’t have it ever again, I’m saying you let the family have some alone time and figure things out. Anyone with any emotional intelligence would postpone such an outing. However, it looks like Serkan is not put off so easily and we know he doesn’t lose, so it will probably lead to humorous scenes. 

The good thing about this is that it shows that Serkan won’t sit passively by. Here Burak is giving him an out, Serkan can have his day back, go to work, he can slide into fatherhood slowly, but looks like Serkan is going to have none of that and is going to crash their fishing outing. How’s that for someone who said he wasn’t ready for fatherhood a mere 24-48 hours earlier?

Also it’s worth noting that Kiraz doesn’t see Burak as a father-figure, if she did she probably would have joined Ayfer and tried to get her mom to marry him. Instead she’s been almost obsessed with her father, talking about him, dreaming about him, wanting him and was very quick to correct when someone mistook Baba and Buba. Also she wanted Buba to meet her father.  So Kiraz wanting to spend time with him isn’t a slight, in her mind he’s a friend, an uncle and with all the upheaval keeping their plans might feel safe to her. We’ll see.   

 martha0206 asked: Hi! I love your pinned post. That moment was perfect. Also, I loved the sad and emotional scenes as well as the funny ones. The episode was amazing!!! ❤ Serkan made Kiraz dream come true and I've rewatched that scene and cried because it's too beautiful and touching 🥺 K: Dad? S: Happy Birthday, my daughter 🥺😭❤

Ahh... this post that was pinned.  Thank you for the kind words, I also love that scene. I just love it because it’s such an EXTRA thing to do, putting on the astronaut costume and making an entrance like that, but both Serkan and Eda have always been so extra that it works for their little family. 

I love that he made Kiraz’s dream come true in the most dramatic way possible.  But beyond being dramatic, it was the perfect way to signal that no matter what fears or hang-ups Serkan had, he’s committed to getting over them and he’s ready to go all in on fatherhood. A perfect way to show not only Eda that he’s serious, but to show all their friends and family he’s serious. DO YOU HEAR THAT, AYFER? He’s back and he’s going to be her daddy, and there is nothing you can do about it!

Anonymous asked: do you think the writers goal is to make us hate Ayfer and Aydan? because its just a deeper and deeper hole for these two and I don't understand if they're supposed to be a happy family at the end. I actually realized going back that Ayfer never really developed into liking Serkan/Edser, she just accepted him one day and that was that but with Aydan, her character development was top tier up until episode 29 came along and she never recovered. Now I just want them gone.

LOL, I think this is a pretty popular sentiment among fans.  

Personally, I need to see how badly Aydan is meddling in the next episode. If it’s fairly inept meddling that just causes some mild misunderstandings but also serves as a catalyst for an Edser conversation about the future, I probably won’t get too upset with her.  However, if her meddling is more competent this time and she gets them into real trouble or causes real problems, then I’ll get annoyed with her. Although, I have to say if we need a few episodes of drama, I would rather this sort of controlled, family drama (meddling mamas causing a misunderstanding about custody) then, you know, other melodramatic things that certain other writing teams used to do... like kidnappings and obsessed stalkers. 

As for Aydan, I can’t help it, even though I can never forgive her transgression in 29, I feel sorry that she lost out on so much of her granddaughter’s life.  So if she wants to come in and cause headaches and drama for Ayfer (not Eda, Kiraz and Serkan... but Ayfer) then I have no problem with that. As far as I’m concerned those two can run around for the next few episodes playing cat and mouse while Eda/Serkan/Kiraz quietly form a family.

Honestly, I don’t think they want us to hate Aydan, because they give Aydan funny scenes and relationships outside of Serkan with Kemal and Seyfi and even Engin and Piril, but I have wondered if they want us to hate Ayfer. Because Ayfer doesn’t get any redeeming scenes.  I mean we’re talking about a woman who managed to raise her orphaned niece and her niece never wanted for love and turned out to be a strong, smart, confidence, successful woman... sooooo she must be awesome, right!?!  NOPE. I mean to take a character like that, who had to have been so instrumental in Eda not feeling lonely like Serkan did, but then make her so unlikeable... it has to be on purpose.  

Anonymous asked: I loved this episode of sen cal kapimi. I wasn’t so mad at the pregnancy thing. I know lots of fans are but I really liked how they made Eda and Serkan emotional and we could understand them better. I just hate how all the people who don’t like the show anymore have turned into toxic haters. It’s so frustrating. If she show isnt working for you, then why do they keep watching? 🙁

This happens in every fandom where the show keeps going and takes turns that some fans don’t like. My best advice is to not expect others to change or to stop watching or stop hate tweeting/posting, but to take steps to change your own experience so they don’t ruin it for you. I can’t tell you how many people I currently have muted on twitter. Lots. I don’t want to see the cynical, nasty tweets day in and day out about this show, the writers etc. Twitter has always been hard to take because so many people post their knee-jerk responses there and often choose to word vomit their first emotional response which for some people is mostly negative. That is true for every fandom, and has been true for this fandom since I started looking at responses there. 

So to protect yourself, seek out people who are enjoying the show and post content that you want to see and mute, unfollow or even block those who make your experience worse. 

You’ll never regret curating your experience. 

Also I don’t really consider this fandom toxic. Sure there’s negativity about the storyline and internal drama about a variety of things, but after you’ve been though shipwars that get hella toxic and include fans trying to destroy actor’s careers and who attempt to use social justice issues to bully their fanon ships into existence on a constant day-after-day basis for years, this is nothing. This fandom is a daisy-lined, sunlight walk in the park in comparison.  

Anonymous asked: For the way they treat their child's SO, I prefer Aydan over Ayfer. Ofc Aydan has been selfish & rude to Eda but Aydan saw her as a respectable foe even when she didn't like Eda. Even now her ire has been directed more at Ayfer than Eda. Ayfer eventually accepted Serkan but never seemed to like him. I get why she thought he was bad for Eda but often her anger has been unwarranted. Ironic how mad she was at him for keeping a secret from Eda for 2 weeks. Even now we see how Ayfer's anger sways Eda

I also prefer Aydan over Ayfer, here’s my recent post on it. 

The problem is not that Ayfer never liked Serkan, the problem is that Ayfer never care that Eda did like him. Ayfer can dislike him all she wants as long as she doesn’t interfere, but oh wait, she has interfered, time and time again. She’s used guilt and manipulation in attempts to control Eda at every turn, to the point, at times, of not caring that she was forcing Eda to sacrifice her career as well as her love. 

It will be interesting to see Ayfer’s response when she realizes Eda is going to let Serkan into their lives. Will she double down on badmouthing Serkan and pressuring Eda not to get involved with him, or will she smarten up and back off? I think we know the answer to that. 

Anonymous asked: Hii! I’m curious what they will come up with for the remaining episodes, I mean, drama-wise, cause no way will Ayse give us 7 episodes of Edser x Kiraz happy family time 🥺 but sure, that is also reasonable since Turks need drama to keep watching

You know, as I said above, I’m very curious about this. To be honest I didn’t really expect Eda and Serkan to be at this emotional place by the 4th episode. I mean they’re not totally ready to get back together, but they’ve both made it obvious that they still love one another, and that is kind of a big milestone in a romantic story. 

Seriously, my assumption prior to the season was that we’d have these initial finding out episodes, and then Eda and Serkan would still be sort of outwardly pretending that they didn’t want to get back together, or still angry at one another, but then they’d be forced together by Kiraz. You know there’d be some parent trapping, and a handcuff episodes and then Kiraz would manipulate them into living together and we’d get all sorts of domestic sexual tension scenes.  Now these things may still happen to some degree, but Edser is starting from a very different outward emotional place than I thought they would be. I assumed we’d get another 4-5 episodes of slow burn, forced proximity before they admitted things and got engaged. But now it feels like their feelings are out in the open and they could decide to get married at any moment. 

So we’ll have to see how the writer’s decide to chart their emotional journey over the remaining episodes. One thing I’m sure of, there are some wonderful scenes coming our way.  

Anonymous asked: I'm back and happy to say that Engin delivered!! THAT is how you use a side character. (Not whatever they were doing with Ayfer for what seemed like half the episode) This was a perfect scene for these two and had no business being as emotional as it was

Oh, yes, as I said here in my episode thoughts, the Engin/Serkan scene is the one that really started me crying on first watch. Anil was really fantastic in that scene and it made me realize how sorely I had missed Serkan/Engin as male best friends who actually talk about their emotions. Where was that guy when Serkan was being brainwashed and manipulated by Selin!?! Oh yeah he was in the hands of inept writers. 

Glad the real Engin is back!

Anonymous asked: Serkan's vehemence against wanting kids, and his dislike of kids in general, make so much more sense with what was revealed.. we just had to be patient! I can't imagine wanting something so much, having it be your "dream" and being told it's impossible.. Serkan's method of dealing with it was trying to convince himself he never wanted it in the first place and trying to dislike the topic altogether. no wonder he was never close with Can either as an uncle... how heartbreaking!

Yes, I absolutely think that was part of it. He dealt with the fact that he couldn't have children by outwardly adopting the attitude that he never wanted it, even though he still knew deep down that it’s all he wanted with Eda. 

Heartbreaking indeed. 

Anonymous asked: i hate to think of more drama when it seems like we have such a fluff-filled episode next week.. but this week's conversations b/w edser have me thinking.. do you think a possibility of reoccurrence of his tumor, or just a scare could be coming as one of their "final" hurdles. except this time instead of making his mistakes from the past, he'll do it right this time. obviously everything will be resolved happily, but i was thinking of the possibility of this when serkan was discussing his health

While anything is possible, I don’t see a reoccurrence of his tumor happening because they had a scene where the doctor said he was in perfect health and that since it had been five years he now had the same chance of occurrence as an ordinary person.  However, I suppose it’s not impossible that they give him some sort of scare so that he can prove he’s changed and that they won’t abandon his family if that sort of adversity comes again. 

Honestly, if I was Eda, I would make him go to therapy as a condition of them getting back together. Make sure he develops some coping skills for the long haul. 

Anonymous asked: the ending of the last episode was equivalent to ep 11 but kiraz version for me.. the whole build-up of serkan initially thinking he can't be her father - a good father - and his fears about leaving them both halfway culminating in him saying kiraz is a miracle, that she's perfect.. watching her home videos to showing up WHEN IT MATTERED!! for his daughter.. ugh i'm so glad there was that build-up, but also that it wasn't stretched out over multiple episodes.

Yes, I agree it was all really well done. It did feel like we had all the build up we needed to truly appreciate the moment and to appreciate Serkan’s extraordinary character arc. 

He truly rose to the occasion at the right moment, and I love that his grand gesture not only made Kiraz’s dream come true, but it showed everyone his growth and acceptance of his role as her father. 

Anonymous asked: can they just bring back Tahir - him and Melo had so much potential. let's just say he finally quit working for Babaanne and decided to come back to Istanbul to find Melo 😊

Yes, please!  He really liked her! Though she never really liked him, lmao. She could have gotten there with time. Though, I guess if she really likes Burak I can get behind it. And by that I mean I won’t bitch about it too much. No promises. We shall see. 

Anonymous asked: Anon here! Thank you so much for that explanation!!!! It seems really interesting, might just have to give it a chance now! Thank you kindly 😊😊

It’s a fun show and I do recommend it. Let me know if you start watching!

[sovonight]

true nature

(vamp/hunter au)

--

Atton tenses, and Cela is off of him in an instant, her lips already shaping an apology.

"Am I too--"

"You're taking too long." While he hates seeing her weak, he hates how she's been hovering over him more. "You're treating me like I'm--" porcelain, comes to mind, then precious, which brings a confusing twinge to his heart, "--weak."

He reaches for the first few fastenings of his shirt, making quick, rough work of the task her tentative fingers had lingered on too long, and bares the curve between his neck and his shoulder. "Come on. You're hungry, aren't you?"

"I am," Cela whispers, voice as weak as she looks, and gaze fixed upon his bared skin, almost against her own will. "But I don't want to--"

"Hurt me?" The empty sentiment is familiar, related by any vampire holding onto their facade of a human heart. While Cela's put up a cute fight with all her insistence that she keep him safe, the act is getting old. "I don't know what kind of kill is haunting you, but I'm not like them. I've been trained; I can stop you if you take too much."

He's grown used to the stare of her sharp, intelligent eyes, but feels their absence now as they go blank to process the meaning of his words. Hunger is powering down rational thought in favor of instinct, and whether or not she has the presence of mind left to believe him, tonight ends the same way.

When her gaze returns, however, it doesn't snap back to his neck-- it snakes down his torso, running over his stomach and hips. For a moment, he wonders if he'd misread the depth of her hunger, but she pulls the knife from his belt and presses it into his hand.

"With this," she says, her cold hand tight around his fingers, made to wrap around the handle. Her eyes are dark with hunger, yet something resolute still lurks behind them. "Can you stop me with this?"

"Easily," he says.

"Then I won't hold back."

And before he can smirk and privately revel in seeing her finally show her true nature, she pushes him down and sinks her teeth in.

* * *

The darkness above spins, and his head is far, far away as he lays half conscious on a sea of fabric. As his vision returns, the sea coalesces into a four poster bed, all curtains drawn but one, through which is a window his foggy mind registers as familiar. This is Cela's room.

It takes forever to lift his hand, but less to direct it to the side of his neck. He knows that if he stood before a mirror, he would see twin punctures in his skin, and a bruise formed beneath the crescent imprints of her teeth. The soreness in his shoulder builds until he cannot touch her marks any longer, and his arm falls heavily to his side.

Something jumps at the fall, tipping over the edge of the out-of-focus side table to clatter to floor, ringing loud in the otherwise quiet room. A blurry figure approaches, becoming clearer as it does, and bends down to retrieve the fallen item: his knife.

"You should keep this close," Cela says.

"Still worried you're going to kill me?" Atton says, his first words slow upon a dull tongue. Cool fingers reach over to brush his tousled hair aside, cupping his face as though to test its warmth before withdrawing back to her side.

"It makes me feel better," is all Cela says as she sits at the side of the bed, the mattress dipping for her weight. She picks something up off the side table and sets it up before him-- a tray of food.

"I'm not sure what you need," Cela admits. "I never thought I would... ever again. Perhaps I should have listened to more of Kreia's lessons."

"No, this is fine," Atton says. He tries to sit up, doing his best to pretend it doesn’t send his vision swimming, but by the looks of Cela's expression, he's not doing too good a job of it. Collapsing back into the covers, he gives up. "Gonna tell me why I'm so sore?"

"Tension," Cela says. "You... writhed, a lot. I held you down."

"So, we didn't...." He trails off long enough, and Cela looks at him with clear, curious eyes, then laughs.

"No. I've heard that it can feel like that, though."

"Only heard? Didn't you feel it when you were turned?"

She looks thoughtfully down at the covers for a moment, gaze lost in memory.

"Not really. But I am strange," she says. "I never felt such things to begin with."

She nudges the tray forward, a clear change in subject.

"You should drink some water, at least," she says. "You look like you need it."

"So I look like shit," Atton grumbles. "Nothing new."

Still, he makes another effort to prop himself up, and succeeds in shuffling himself higher against the fluffed pillows at his back. Then he notices that he's in a loose, pullover shirt... not the buttoned one he'd been wearing. His jacket, too, has mysteriously vanished from his person.

"I gave you access to my blood. I didn't say you could strip me," he says. Cela looks embarrassed.

"You-- I... made a mess. I didn't want your shirt to stain." As though aware that he'd find it a poor excuse, she adds, "It's alright, I didn't touch anything else."

"And my belt?"

"Well-- you can't sleep wearing a belt," Cela says, so firmly disapproving and stern over something so mundane that he laughs.

"Sure I can. I do it all the time."

"It's not right," Cela insists. "It's uncomfortable."

"And you care about my comfort, do you?"

"Of course I do," she says. She's got that soft look in her eyes again, the one that makes his heart twinge and feel weak. It doesn’t feel so bad like this, though-- not now that she’s taken him seriously.

"So, what did you think?" He finds himself asking. “How was I?“

"Your taste, was--"

"No, not that," Atton interrupts, before his face can go hot. “I meant....”

And in a realization that should hit harder than it does, he finds that he meant to ask what she had thought of him-- if she had found his body, not the contents of it, to her liking. Now that his head has had time to clear, he remembers how she had undressed him: her cold, efficient fingers had made quick work of his shirt and stripped it away, damp with blood. She'd sponged the last traces of salt and iron from his skin, and after easing a fresh shirt over his head, had carried him to bed and left him there, alone. She had looked as though she would have stayed, though. She had looked...

"You were very warm," Cela answers for him, when he never elaborates. His face is hot now anyway, and she smiles, wistful, at his flushed cheeks. "I don't need warmth, anymore... but I miss it."

"So come in and join me."

They both freeze speechless at that, and it takes Atton about five mortified seconds to realize the words were his, and spoken aloud. Cela, on the other hand, waits those seconds to grace him with another smile.

"You're sweet like this," she says, softly.

"Is that a yes?" He blurts out before his mind even has a chance to vet what he’s saying-- stupid, what is wrong with him? But his words no longer charm her, and the smile falls from Cela's lips as her expression closes off into an unreadable mask once again.

"I should leave," she says, withdrawing. "We will not speak again until your mind is clear... you'll thank me."

He doesn't think so. Then again, even he knows he's lost it-- first offering himself to her, then inviting her to join him. She leaves the room, and he lets his head fall back against the pillows with a frustrated sigh, willing unconsciousness to take him before his thoughts do.

[violetlunette]

Hello~ In the Eri Critical post you mentioned you almost made Toru a makeshift OC and could I ask you to elaborate on that? She's a side character and imo Horikoshi hasn't given much to work with, so isn't any depth or expansion added by other writers gonna make her different to the canon? What metric do you use to judge if you strayed too far? I ask cause I'm writing a fic where Toru is more prominent and thus I will have to expand on her character.

This was a hard question for me to answer because you’re right. We have nearly nothing to work with when it comes to Toru, which sucks when you want to write a story with her. Therefore nearly anything we do is in a way “fanon.” I have run into this problem myself as I’ve tried to write her in a main role as well. So, this where I have to apologize to people who try to write for Eri. It’s near impossible to write for a character where we’re given only crumbs to work with without shifting them into Ocs. So how do we combat it? I dunno. But here’s how I try; The first question I ask myself is this, “is the character performing this action or feeling the way they are because that’s how they would in this situation? Or it because it’s how I want them to respond or feel?” If the answer is ever the latter, then I go back and think some more. For example, Toru likes Caramel. It’s her favorite food. If she turns it down, there has to be a reason; sore tooth, too depressed to eat, etc. She can’t turn down the candy just because I, the author, say so.

Don’t fall into the trap and make a character react the way you would. Make sure to ask yourself if this is how the character would do it.

Next what I try to do is take what little we do see in canon and expand on that. As for the metric for when I've gone too far—it’s complicated-ish? Below is what I know about Toru off the top of my head. If I’ve strayed too far from any of these points without a reason, then I either need to go back or make a reason that would make sense for her to act differently from “canon.” For example, Toru isn’t very strong in canon as she’s the third-worst in class. If I want to make her strong I would have to provide a reason why such as training montage or science magic. Keep in mind all my knowledge comes from the manga as I haven’t watched the anime. Hopefully, it’ll help when writing Toru.

*The biggest thing to keep in mind is that Toru loves her quirk and is very proud of it. In fact, she places a great deal of confidence in it, even when we see over and over that it’s not perfect. She’s vulnerable to cold, she can be revealed easily, etc. Yet she never tries to overcome these flaws, instead, she seems to ignore them. Thinking about it, she seems to have put all her eggs in one basket by focusing sorely on stealth in the story. (It’s said she can fight, but we don’t see anything impressive.) When she discovers her light manipulation, she works on that, but that’s because it's a part of her quirk. This can be a big weakness for her arc, refusing to admit that her quirk isn’t flawless and she needs to focus on other things like agility and strength building. **This would explain why she doesn’t get a real costume (outside of the meta reasons). In her head, she’s thinking she doesn’t need to waste time with armor, she just needs to get better at hiding/sneaking. (And being naked isn’t a big deal to her.) *Something that differs from fanon is that in canon she’s actually fairly confident. She’s usually portrayed as insecure about herself in fanfics because she “doesn’t have a face.” However, in the story, Toru seems to have the most confidence of all the girls. I have never seen an instance where she’s down about herself. This is most likely because her quirk allows her not to be judged by appearances. Actually, now that I seem to think about it, she might be putting her whole identity in her quirk, which is seen as pretty cool. *She seems to like to poke fun and tease others. She’s aware that she’s naked, but she doesn’t see it as a big deal. She sees it as funny—or at least people’s reactions to her being naked. When she strips she usually brings it to attention, then pretends to be shy or upset. **The fact her favorite thing is hidden prank shows adds to this. **She uses the lack of appearance to troll others too by saying she looks like a Geisha and an old saint. ***May have some knowledge in history. *She’s optimistic and always looks on the bright side when she can. *Usually easy going. Doesn’t seem to like dwelling on things. If she’s mad, she’ll huff and puff, but will then move on with her life. Though she may occasionally attack an offender. *She’s very friendly and bubbly. *She’s a bit of a ditz. An example is how she forgot to put a rage away in the light novels and knocked Aizawa out. *VERY SMALL, but I noticed she’s one of the few to get annoyed with Bakagou (for two seconds, but still). She was the only one to call him out when he told Izuku he should have fought Shigaraki and grumbled at him when Bakagou was happy no one else was going to be able to do the internships. YMMV, though. *She’s not a great student. This could be out of laziness or depending way too much on her quirk to get her through school. I think it’s the latter. As I said, she has WAY too much faith in her quirk. *She likes cute stuff, but in the manga, she dresses very casually. **Seems to be fond of no sleeve shirts and knee-high socks. *She worked with the Gadget Hero as an intern, so she may have a SMALL knowledge of robotics. **This feeds into the theory of how she got into UA, which states she found the off button. *She likes caramel candy the best. *She is confirmed to have two parents. Also, a trick I do is that when Canon doesn’t give me enough meat on a character, I look at their astrology! (And blood types for anime as Japanese have fun with the idea that personality can be affected by our blood types.) A lot of authors like to try and make things match for fun.

That’s all I got. I suppose the only thing I can say is that as long as you don’t stray too far from what we see in canon without a reason, write her however you want. Most readers will be forgiving with characters like this.

If anyone else can help, I’m sure we’d all appreciate it!

I really hoped this helped anon. Like I said, I wasn’t sure how to answer this, so there’s a chance I babbled and did everything but answer your question. Thanks for the message!

[blaines-hayes]

Stay. [Ethan Ramsey x MC]

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x MC 

Rating: General/ For All Audiences

Words: 3.7K

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: MC is leaving Edenbrook after receiving an offer of a fellowship in Seattle. She's hoping for a goodbye from Ethan who grew distant after hearing the news.

[1st person POV.]

"This is really it then," Sienna says.

Her voice draws me out of my thoughts, her small frame is leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom. I bring myself to laugh, but the tears welling up in her eyes serve to remind me of the sadness of this day. Aurora stands besides her, her expression is unreadable, but over the years I have distinguished the expressions enough to know she is hiding her own sadness.

"I guess so," I say. My fingers pull up the last zipper, sealing my last suitcase shut.

My years as a resident at Edenbrook are over. Not too long ago I was offered a fellowship where I would continue my training under some of the best doctors in the world. Away from Boston and everyone I have come to hold dear... away from my friends. Away from Ethan.

"Has he come to say goodbye?" Aurora asks, her tone is soft and careful. As if she is afraid of upsetting me by mentioning him. There's a hidden layer behind her words, a subtle implication. An insinuation that there was something more, that she has known about it for a while.

Her question shocks me. Whatever my relationship with Ethan has been, we have always tried to keep it discrete. Friendly. Careful not to raise any suspicion, but Aurora is smart. She has always been observant, a quality of hers that is often forgotten and overlooked.

"You knew?!" I ask. My eyes scan her face, for resentment or just some sign that she will discredit all my work as the hospital, but there is nothing other than a sheepish smile that follows her confession.

"Sienna and I had been speculating about your relationship for a while. There were days where you would get back from the Diagnostics team meetings all flustered and then there were days where you would come back annoyed at something you wouldn't want to discuss," She says, shrugging as if anyone would have noticed.

"It didn't take too much to connect it to Ethan, when we would see Dr. Mirani and Dr. Hirata at Donahue's when you would stay and work late," Sienna adds, a smile on her face.

"Don't even get us started on the longing looks he threw at you when you weren't looking. Or the lingering touches when your hand would accidentally brush against his and-- yeah you two were definitely not subtle," Aurora laughs.

I can't help but join in. Some pressure of having to have had keep our relationship a secret seems to lift from my shoulders. Even though I am on my way out, and there was no need for secrecy anymore, I didn't find it necessary to mention our history. With Ethan in Boston and me in Seattle... the distance would never work. He could never leave Edenbrook, and I cannot pause my career when I'm only just getting started.

“When did it start?” Sienna asks giddily. Aurora rolls her eyes, but I her focus as interest.

“A couple of years ago. We both wanted to see who we were outside of the hospital. He’s met my parents. I’ve met his dad. It was--”

“Pretty serious. Wow. Years,” Aurora finishes. She thinks it over, seemingly replaying different encounters in her head, and nods, satisfied. 

"...He hasn't said anything," I admit, referring back to their original question. "When I told him about the fellowship, he congratulated me and wished me the best. We didn't speak much after. He hasn't reached out, and I haven't been able to reach him. I don't think he's coming."

Aurora smiles sadly at me, "I don't know the full depths of your relationship. But it's obvious you two mean a lot to each other. He'll be here."

"You think so?" I ask.

"If there's one thing Ethan Ramsey cares about more than medicine, it's you. Maybe more. Probably more. I don't know what goes on in that man's head really. But I'm almost certain he would rather suffer than ever be the reason for your disappointment," Sienna replies. She pauses for a moment, and then her eyes light up as if remembering something. "Oh! The guest are here for your goodbye party! We were coming to get you. You're all set for the airport after right?"

I take a quick glance around my room, now bare, the few boxes left are going to be taken to a  donation center sometime tomorrow by Elijah. There's a small pang in my chest, but I manage to shove it aside and plaster on a smile.

I find myself wondering about Edenbrook, about how different things would have been if they offered me a fellowship. Would I have chosen to stay? Would I still choose Seattle? Then the most obvious question surfaces, why didn't Edenbrook offer me a fellowship? Did they not think I was good enough? Did being on the Diagnostics team mean nothing?

"Yeah, I'm all set. You're still okay with driving me right?"

"Yup," Sienna says. "Now let's party like I won't see you tomorrow because I won't and... oh no, now I'm sad."

We laugh and move to greet everyone who is gathered in the living room. With no sight of Ethan, my party-ing mood deflates.

Hours pass, and Ethan never shows up. Soon enough, its midnight and the car is pulling up into the airport. Sienna, Jackie, and Aurora follow me to the entrance of the building. They begin to apologize for Ethan's absence.

"It's okay. He probably got caught up with work or--"

"It's not okay," Jackie interjects. "You don't have to make excuses for him. He didn't show up and he didn't so much as talk to you during your last few weeks. All he did was make appointments with the Chief and HR. He avoided you like the plague and now he doesn't even have the decency to say goodbye to you."

"Jackie--" Sienna starts, but Jackie cuts her short.

"What? Did I lie? I'm sorry, but it's the truth. He could at least said goodbye or tell you why Edenbrook didn't offer you a fellowship. It's not like he couldn't have asked Banerji about it."

Jackie goes to say more, but whatever look is on my face stops her. Her faces scrunches and she appears regretful. Her tone drops in its sharpness and she sounds genuine when she says, "I really am sorry."

The lack of an offer for fellowship at Edenbrook is a sore spot, and she knows I haven't wanted to talk about it.

"It's okay," I offer, but my voice isn't very convincing. They're kind enough to ignore it.

When it is clear that we have been delaying the inevitable, it Aurora who steps up first. Her hands wrap around me and I quickly reciprocate it.

"You're an amazing Doctor," Aurora says. "I wish you nothing but the very best with your career. Thank you for constantly encouraging me."

Don't cry, don't cry.

"Thank you Aurora," I say smiling. "You better believe I'm going to follow your career. I hope you invite me to the award ceremonies that you'll undoubtedly be nominated for."

When we pull apart, there is a shadow of a smile in her face, and she goes back into the car.

"I'm not one for tears," Jackie says, stepping up and pulling me into a quick hug. "Edenbrook is going to be ridiculously boring without you causing trouble."

"Believe me when I say not to count Bryce out just yet."

When it's just Sienna and I, I finally succumb to my emotions, encouraged by her own tears.

"Sienna! No fair, my eyes are going to be puffy and you promised me you wouldn't cry!"

"I can't help it," Sienna sobs. "You're my friend. My best friend!"

"Seattle isn't crazy far from California! I'll visit you every chance I get. You're gonna love it there."

"Oh god, I should let someone else drive," Sienna laughs, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

I laugh, "I think that would be best."

I pull her into a tight hug, thank her for being the best friend I could ever ask for. When we pull apart, we take a few minutes to compose ourselves before she speaks.

"I really am sorry about Ethan. I really did think he would show up."

I shrug, attempting to act indifferent. "Ethan isn't very good at goodbyes."

I think of his mother, and her sudden abandonment. I wonder if he thinks I am betraying him. I push the thought out of my mind. There's no way. Ethan, the man that only ever pushed me to be the best and supported me throughout my time in Edenbrook, who kept things professional for so long because he was aware of the mistreatment of women in any field, especially medical. There's no way that that Ethan Ramsey, my Ethan Ramsey, would be anything other than proud.

"Neither are we apparently," Sienna says, but the second the words leave her lips, a sorry expression appears. Suddenly, hearing the layers behind her words. The hidden meaning of not being good at goodbyes meaning you can't do a goodbye.

I pull her into one last hug before she was start issuing a series of apologies. I promise her that I'll call her when I land and swear I am okay, and finally head into the check-in station.

[3rd person POV.]

"Stop crying Sienna," Jackie says, clearly exasperated. Her hands rub small circles into the smaller woman's back.

"They probably haven't even boarded," Aurora appears suddenly. She had gone to find a place to park the car after Sienna refused to get in. "You could probably catch them and fly out with--"

The sounds of footsteps rushing across the pavement, of people shouting irritated "watch its", sounds of shoved groans and of loud apologies, draws the women's attention. They cannot make out what's happening, but a large figure is rushing towards them at a dangerous speed, too fast for them to move away.

"Varma, Trinh, Emery!" A strangely familiar voice shouts out to them.

"Were we expecting anyone?" Jackie mumbles to the ladies, too entranced by the scene that is unfolding to look away.

Aurora replied with a three beat hum that sounds like the words "i don't know" .

"Wait! We know him!" Sienna shouts suddenly, jumping up and rushing to meet him half way.

Their theatrics have gathered the attention of some onlookers now, the expressions vary from confused, annoyed, and excited.

"Dr. Ramsey?" Aurora calls out shocked, as his face comes closer into view.

"Oh my God," Jackie says, sounding suddenly very amused. They two women step forward until they reach them.

Sienna who reached him just as he bent over for air, pats his back as an attempt to help as Ethan Ramsey collects himself.

"Where...is...?" He asks through heavy pants. "Did I...miss...?"

The women stare at him, both confused and amused.

"We got here not to long ago..." Jackie says. "Maybe around fifteen minutes give or take?"

Sienna who suddenly seems very alert, "We don't think the plane has boarded yet. You could probably still catch---"

But Ethan Ramsey has already taken off leaving nothing but a cold rush of air in his place.

"...Never would have expected Ethan Ramsey to be so theatrical," Jackie laughs, watching his running figure speed off.

"God, nobody is ever going to believe us," Aurora says, joining in on the laughter.

"I think it's romantic," Sienna says, sighing happily. "Anyway. I'm okay. We can go now."

[1st person POV.]

"...And now I'm moving to Seattle for a fellowship."

The man in front of me in line grunts in response.

"But your man? He didn't say goodbye?" He asks, shaking his head disapprovingly.

I sigh dramatically, "Why does everybody like to focus on that part?"

"You 'oughta stop telling it like a tale of romance then," he shrugs. "Makes the story less about the relationship when you don't end it and start it with that fancy doctor you're leaving behind."

I nod, playfully understanding. "I'm a fancy doctor too, you know. But anyway, you're right. I'll do better next time."

He does a sort of chuckle and disappears into the terminal leading into the plane.

"Next."

I greet the attendant politely and hand over my passport, ticket and any other piece of paper she needs to let me on board.

"I think it's messed up that he didn't say goodbye. He should have at least said goodbye," a woman's voice says from behind me.

I turn to her and laugh, "He's not too bad--"

"Sir! There is no running in the--"

The sound of crashing draws my attention to the scene. Where a man has just accidentally tripped over and dropped the black stanchion rope, that was separating crowds into neat lines.

"I am so sorry! I just have to find and stop the person I'm in love with from getting on--"

"Ethan?!" I hear my voice call out, my feet seem to take off without me.

"I'd bet that the doctor she was mentioning," the woman from the line says, confidently.

Ethan looks up sheepishly when I reach him. "Hi," he says, his cheeks turning pink.

"Hey," I say. I can't help the smile that appears on my face. "You take a wrong turn somewhere?" I ask, amused.

He laughs, and takes my hands that reach out to help him up.

When he stands, his eyes settle on mine, and he sighs like he can relax now that he has found me. His hand comes up, and his thumb caresses my cheek.

Behind me I hear the man who I was initially speaking to, having probably come out with a flight attendant to see what the hold up was, say, "Well with his looks, I would've been without a goodbye either."

"Thanks, Gregg," I jokingly call out to him, not bothering to look back at him. He responds with an approving grunt.

"You've been talking about me?" Ethan asks, his eyebrows raise playfully.

"All good things," I hum. His eyes focus on me so intently, I'm worried he believes I will disappear if he looks away.

"We formed our own opinion!" The woman from the line calls out, earning a few laughs from the crowd.

"I should probably explain," Ethan says, not bothering to look away from me. The intense longing in his eyes makes my chest warm.

"Yeah," I say, "Yes. You probably should."

But the energy drawing us together is too strong and soon his lip crash onto mine, both his hands come up to cup my face, and I melt against him to the sound of cheering and whistles. When we pull apart, I become all too aware of our gathered spectators and press my face against his chest, in attempt to hide my growing blush.

Ethan offers up a meek apology to the crowd, who merely laugh and applaud. Gregg shouts out to thank us for the show.

A couple moments pass, and we look for a quiet part of the loud and busy airport where we can talk. We land at the sleeping pods area and settle in together.

"You didn't say goodbye," I say. His arms are wrapped around me and my cheek is pressed to chest.

"I know," Ethan says softly. His hand is rubbing soothingly up and down my back.

I lift myself off of his chest to look up at him, "That's all?"

"No, no. That isn't all," He says quickly, propping himself up. "I was figuring things out. You and I, we-- I always kept you at a professional distance because I didn't want anybody to look at you and link all your hard work back to me. I didn't want anyone to discredit your accomplishments and say that you only succeeded because I had a hand in your career. I didn't. Everything you have accomplished, that was all you. You're-- you're brilliant. You know that.

"It was you who put in all the work. It was all you. You worked so hard, you're passionate and smart. So I was confused when Banerji didn't offer you a fellowship at Edenbrook. I set up  meetings with him to ask, he was too busy to ever meet with me at the hospital so I finally showed up to his house. When I mentioned it he was confused and he said that he had made you an offer," Ethan says looking up at me expectantly.

I am perplexed, nobody had ever responded to my fellowship application and certainly nobody had met me in person to discuss it.

"Nobody ever offered me anything?"

"That's what I told him. He promised me he would look into it and days later he realized there had been an issue. You were far too qualified to be a fellow, so he never intended to recruit you as such. But you had already accepted the fellowship in Seattle, taking the hospital silence as an answer. Long story short those he had he put in charge of offering you the position made the mistake of marking you out as an unavailable candidate. Banerji was incredibly mad when he found out. He wanted to apologize personally, but I told him you were leaving today and that you had to know before you left. Edenbrook is your home, and you have a position there. If you want it, of course. I know that you are very excited about Seattle, but you deserve all your option on the table."

I can't do anything but stare at him. It takes me some time to process the information. Edenbrook was offering a position. They always intended to offer me a position. But what had Ethan said? Not a fellow? What could I possibly be if not a fellow?

"Ethan? You said I was too qualified as a fellow so what position is Edenbrook offering me?" My voice is soft, afraid that if I speak to loudly I will scare the news away. That I will wake up in Seattle and this was all a dream.

He smiles brightly at the question, and his eyes shine with pride. "They're offering you an Attending position."

My pulse quicken, "You're joking. Tell me you're not joking."

An Attending position? That's the second highest position in a hospital, not including Chief of the whole hospital. There's Chief of hospital, Chief of individual section such as Chief or cardio, trauma, or general surgery, and then there are Attendings. Attending are in charge of Residents and Interns, and at Edenbrook I will become a teacher to interns who positions I was once in.

Ethan laughs, "When have you ever known me to joke?"

I laugh, and in a swift motion press my lips to his. His response is immediate. His hands wrap around my waist and his lip part, granting me entrance. My fingers run through his hair, and everything seems in place. Like this is the last piece of our now complete puzzle.

"Wait," I say, finally pulling apart to breathe. "This position is great. I know it is. And if I stay I would be staying for me, for my career. But..."

"But?" Ethan presses, running his hand down my cheek.

"But there's you."

He looks confused. "Yes, there's me."

"There's you. There's me. There's an us, Ethan. We would be working together and still on the Diagnostic team which you're the Director of. You're still my boss, and relationships like those, like ours still aren't allowed."

Ethan fishes something out of his coat pocket, a folded piece of paper that he hands me.

"About that," He begins, watching as I unfold and smooth down the paper. "I also set up some meetings with HR."

My eyes scan the words on the paper, and I look up at him confused.

Ethan smiles, "It's um, a Declaration of Love."

"A Declaration of Love?"

"Yes, the paper itself is simple. Really it's just a safety precaution for HR that the hospital won't be liable for any possible lawsuits. But the idea of it, what it would mean for us..."

"I could kiss you in the hallways," I reply, staring at the paper entranced. "You could hold my hand when we get off shifts and we can go home together..."

Ethan's eyes are soft when I look back up at him, "Yes, yeah all that," He smiles. "And you could also wear this."

My eyes focus on it for the first time. I was so focused on the piece of paper that would free us from all our secrecy that I hadn't even noticed him pull it out. The velvet box is open and displaying a beautiful ring.

Ethan moves down on to his knee, and I am frozen in place.

"I love you. I don't really know how you managed to do it, but you snuck somewhere inside me and buried yourself deep. And all I have ever wanted to do ever since, is keep you there. Warm and happy. I love you. You have helped me in way that I never thought a person could help me. You are the most supportive and brilliant person I have ever met. I love you. You're passionate about your work and patients, you have a drive that has the power to push anyone to be better. You love your work and you love it for the right reasons. You're driven and smart, your career is going to drive you so far and no matter where you choose to go, because it is your decision-- I'd follow you anywhere. We'd figure it out, I would just be happy enough if you let me go along for the ride. I will love you high and far, and I will keep loving you no matter how many pop culture references you make that I will never understand. I love you, so if you'll have me... will you please marry me?"

The tears are hot on my cheeks and I no longer trust my voice enough to speak. All I can do is nod my head yes, throw myself into him and disappear into him as our lips meet.

I realize now that no matter where I am, a piece of me will always be here in Boston, in Edenbrook with him. So when we pull apart and he slips the ring onto my finger, it feels right. This is where I must be, for my career undoubtedly, but also for him.

Suddenly, I find myself laughing, at Ethan confused and amused smile, I decide to let him in on the joke.

"I missed my flight and sent everything I own to Seattle."

[caeruleis]

@shymaidxn​ asked:

“ i wanna be the one you go to. the first one you tell when there’s something good. the shoulder to cry on when it’s bad. and every mundane thing in between. i want to share it all with you. ” ( YO THIS AT GRAN )

Softer Prompts || Closed (feel free to turn into threads)!

                                                             ★ ☆ ✮ ��� ― ☽ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

     A smile flickers onto his features for a fleeting moment before his expression turns a bit more grave - devoid of the goofy grin, and playful shimmer in his eyes that are commonplace when he’s spending time with the crew. The tepid breeze licks at auburn locks that hang, a bit too long, in front of his eyes from simply not bothering to cut them as of late. It makes his sunburned legs sting where they’re exposed to the wind and blinding moonlight beneath the damp hems of his swim trunks - his arms, luckily, spared from sharing their fate thanks to the rash guard he’s waring, but he can very much feel the prick of dry skin on the back of his neck and his cheeks because he hadn’t bothered to put even an ounce of sunscreen on before leaping into the salty waves of the sea that kissed the golden sands of the beach. The warm water licked at the tips of his toes where they sat upon the smooth surface of a rock overlooking the ocean, his feet plunged into its crystalline depths as they swayed slowly back and forth - never had he been one for sitting still, even if his legs felt as if someone had personally set them aflame. And he would know, he’s set his own arms in fire with magic enough times to know what it feels like. He finds himself swallowing thickly to shove down the urge to wince at every movement of his legs, and the desire to groan at the lecture he was surely going to be in for once Katalina discovered how careless he had been. But if not for the searing pain that nipped at his calves, he would have found night at the beach rather peaceful. Most of the other tourists had turned in already, and those that were still awake were stationed far enough away from them that he couldn’t see or hear them. Not to mention that the clear waters reflected the night sky almost perfectly save for the ripples his swinging feet were causing upon the surface. If he wanted to, he could have counted every star glittering above them on the tiny waves he created. 

      While he had spent the vast majority of the day with Diantha, getting to have a moment to just the two of them proved to be far more complicated than he had ever managed. Though he should have known, it was rare for a day to pass without someone flinging open the door to his cabin to demand something of him, or inform him of something - the beach was not much different. With both of them constantly being pulled in different directions by various members of the crew to try this or that. She had looked just about as frazzled as he was, if he were being honest, when they had finally sat down here to spend a few hours in, hopefully, peace until they turned in for the day. And her words make him wonder what she had discussed with the others, or what she had done - he supposes she must feel the same, or she wouldn’t have spoken up. Though he understands her meaning is deeper than simply asking him what he had been up to during the day - that she wants him to be more open with her; to share bits and pieces that might bot be pleasant, alongside everything that is. It makes a frown cross his lips as he turns his head away from the water to look over at her. He’s never been good at being up front and honest with other people. He has a knack for lying, and keeping secrets. And he’s always used that to dissuade people from getting to know him too deeply. Diantha was different, of course, but that didn’t make the prospect of doing so any easier. She had willingly accepted the parts of him that were unsightly and a bit bruised, but he still feared sharing some of the uglier pieces he kept tucked away - still feared treading too close despite how his heart yearned to for he always had the budding suspicion he might die young, and she has a right to be aware of that. He knows he’s selfish for even accepting her feelings, and allowing his own to slip through. 

     Right now, though, he doesn’t feel much like admitting it. Not when the calloused pads of his feet are still covered in grains of sand, and rug burns from casing a volleyball around beneath the sweltering sun. Not when his back and arms are sore from being in the receiving end of more hits than he cares to count, and the knights in this crew have never heard of the expression holding back. His tongue still feels numb, as well, from the new drink flavor Lyria had tried to add to the beach cafe’s menu only for him to find out after he had choked on it that Katalina had been the one to make it. It’s not that he’ll never bring such thoughts up, but it feels like a waste when they’re on vacation. ‘All right,’ he signs back after a moment, leaning back a bit more on the rock, though not actually letting his hips hit the slick surface. ‘I will.’ And then his serious expression gives way to a smile as he yanks his feet out from the sea, splashing water all over his calves in the process, though careful enough that he didn’t actually manage to flick any on Diantha. The sudden chill of the breeze as it strikes against his yet skin sends a shiver down his spine, and the unwanted motion from his ailing legs finally forces that wince out. Lips pursing and brows tugging together until the unpleasant sensation has mostly run its course for the time being. Against the luminescent sea, and the bright shimmer of starlight, how red the skin on his legs is as it scabs is painfully apparent. 

      ‘Well, you did say you wanted the good and the bad, so here’s the bad: I don’t think I’ve had a sunburn this bad before in my entire life, I’m pretty sure my arms are gonna fall off because I tried to receive one of Siegfried’s spikes, and I may or may not have been poisoned by the drink Katalina had made for the stall.’ When he’s finished, he plops his feet back into the water, relief flashing through his eyes as the cool waves licked at his burnt skin. His earlier signs, and serious expression is proof enough he intends to take her seriously, but, for now, he doesn’t have much to discuss other than the abuse he’s endured on this so-called vacation thus far, even if he’s smiling the entire time his hands are moving. ‘As for the good, I didn’t manage to get my arms sunburned, we haven’t been attacked by man-eating or oddly violent fish yet, and we have gotten to spent some time together.’ His cheeky smile fades a bit at the last line, turning into something softer, though it only lasts a moment. ‘The same goes for you too, you know? I want to be the first one you tell when something is good or bad. I want to hear about everything you feel like sharing, even if you think it’s boring, and I want to be the shoulder you cry on when you need to. So, you’re up next: what do you want to share with me?’  

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

I'm curious to hear your thoughts on the announcements from Maxis Monthly? Did the Game Changers know about or have any say in the rebrand?

Ok so I’m gonna answer your last question first lol

The title “Game Changer” is definitely a little confusing because it implies that we actually change the game in some way, but we don’t. Well, most of us don’t. I think some of the bigger Game Changers have a little sway because they know the team personally and have been to the Sims Headquarters and stuff, but for the most part all we do is get early access so that we can provide our individual communities with a glimpse of the pack that goes a little more in depth than just trailers, that way people can see what’s included and decide if they want to buy it, and hopefully bring more people to the franchise in the process. And we definitely didn’t have anything to do with the rebrand, we heard about it at the same time everyone else did.

As for your first question, I’m gonna put it under a cut for a couple reasons: [a] Listen, I have opinions lol and [b] for anyone that is like me and is sensitive to colour contrast, I don’t want anyone getting a nasty headache or sore eyes if they don’t have to. Let’s do this!

So first off, LOVE that they’re adding over 1000+ decorative world objects! There have been so many things over the years in different packs that I’m sure we’ve all seen and been like “Why didn’t you let us use that!?”, and now we’ll be able to! Sucks that some creators spent so much time liberating those things for us only to now have their work be obsolete though 😕

I also think the Create-A-Sim Story Mode looks interesting. I don’t like the idea that you can’t change the sims aspiration and traits though; they’re locked in once you’ve finished answering the questions. I’m not sure how much use I’ll get out of it, as I tend to either pick specific traits based on my sim’s backstory or randomise them, but it’s nice to know the option is there and answering the questions might be fun to see what kind of sim you get!

Now, onto the rebrand.

I just don’t understand it!

Listen, I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t like change; I don’t do well with big changes at all. But this isn’t about that, this is about trying to understand why EA felt the need to rebrand The Sims 4 (which I can’t work out) and why they chose those colours, and I just… don’t understand.

I mean I understand, they’re trying to attract a younger audience with bright shiny things. But I don’t UNDERSTAND, you know? I don’t understand what prompted them to do it now, after almost five years?! Why did they feel the need to change something that didn’t need to be fixed at all? And why they went with this particular colour scheme! It’s so unnecessarily bright! As a graphic designer I’m genuinely horrified by the colours they chose and as a consumer of their product, I’m a little annoyed that they spent time and money on this when there are other things that are more important (like things that are actually broken) that keep getting the “We don’t have the resources” excuse or just flat out ignored.

Here’s the difference between the original box arts and the rebranded ones:

That blue is GOD AWFUL! It’s like Tumblr’s new blue background; I literally have a headache from looking at it! It doesn’t fit with the style of the rest of the game at all. And they claimed in the stream that the new box art designs really make the render sims “pop”… they really don’t. The backgrounds of the DLC packs are way too busy. I just I don’t understand why they couldn’t just stick with the nice clean, minimalist look they had before; it was truly a timeless design. A design that actually made the render sims pop and didn’t detract from them at all with busy backgrounds and headache-inducing colours!

Oh and can we just talk about the new base game box art render for a second? I love it, I really do. It looks cool and I’m excited to get to learn more about these new sims that are being added and according to the Gurus in the stream, all of the stuff on those sims is being added to base game (the stuff that’s not already base game that is). I’m excited about that pink hair BUT take a good look at all the other stuff… look familiar? That’s because most of us have already paid for that stuff. The jacket on the pink haired sim is from Get Famous, the beanie on the sim next to her is from Get to Work, the hair under the beanie is from Dine Out, the bracelet on the sim with the camera is from Seasons, the chef uniform in the middle is from Get to Work, the jacked on the sim up the back with the phone is from Get Together, and the sleeveless hoodie on the sim to the left of that is from Fitness Stuff. They’re all recolours of stuff from other packs. I’m all for free content, because hey it’s free, but I really wish they wouldn’t make things from other packs base game; people paid for that stuff.

Side note: I feel sorry for the people who collect the psychical copies of the games, because unless they can afford to buy new copies of all the packs, any new packs aren’t going to match their old ones now. And also the people who got tattoos of the old plumbob 😕

Which brings me to the plumbob, and yet another before and after:

The new plumbob is whatever; I don’t hate it, I just prefer the original. It matched the one in game and suited the artstyle of the whole game really well, whereas the new one looks too much like The Sims 3 and doesn’t suit The Sims 4 at all. It’s also not going to match the plumbob in-game anymore as for some reason they decided not to change that one? I mean it wouldn’t matter to me if it did because I always have my default file edited to get rid of it, but it just makes no sense to leave the original in there if you’re changing everything else.

New box art, plumbob and stuff aside, the thing that probably annoys me the most about this rebrand is that the pack icons and colours are changing. I get that they probably ran out of colours to choose from for each pack, but the fact that it’s so hard to tell the difference between the colours for the game and stuff packs is gonna be a problem for anyone who has difficulty distinguishing between different colour tones. Mr Sandwich, for example, couldn’t tell that there was a difference between the two, even after I pointed it out to him. Why didn’t they make one of them yellow?!

I personally used to find things from expansions in the catalogue by looking for the colour of each pack icon. “I know the thing I’m looking for is from Get Famous, so I’ll just keep scrolling until I see a pink icon”… well, not anymore:

All expansion packs are now teal, all game packs are now blue (a different blue than the box art blue I might add 😩), and all stuff packs are green; the only difference is the icon on them. And yes, I’m aware you can filter things by pack, that’s what I used to do for stuff and game packs because they were always the same colour, but if I’m just scrolling through say the curtains category, it’s a lot quicker to just scroll once or twice looking for an icon colour than it is to go into the little menu, click on “packs”, scroll down to the pack I want and choose it.

The new pack icons and colours also look awful on the main menu. Here’s a little before and after again:

Urgh that blue! There as nothing wrong with the original menu but now we’re gonna have the god awful blue again… not the point, sorry. Look at those icons! They’re too… saturated? busy? both? I dunno what but they look awful, especially on the blue background! At the very least they should have just made them one solid colour instead of trying to carry over the crystallized look.

And lastly the loading screen….

Again with the gross colour combinations and the background is just plain boring. The old one is much nicer and easier on the eyes.

Maybe it’s because I’m old and not the target audience for this new look but honestly I JUST DON’T GET IT! I understand that EA are trying to attract more people to the game, obviously younger people, but I really don’t think alienating and confusing the people who currently play your game in favour of luring in new people is this is the way to go about it.

Thankfully I’ve already seen a couple of the amazingly talented modders in the community say they’ll do everything they can to either give us back the original menus and loading screens or make a less obnoxious version as soon as they can, so I’m just gonna keep my fingers crossed that it won’t be too difficult for them to do and look forward to downloading those mods so I can play without getting a headache every time I have to look at the main menu and loading screen 😅

NOTE: Before anyone starts shouting at me for “being negative about a free update” just note that anon asked for my thoughts on it; these are my thoughts. If you like the new look that’s great, I’m really happy for you! But anon wanted my honest opinion and I’ve given it. Will this rebrand stop me playing the game? Of course not! The game is still the same no matter what the box art and menus look like, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them and it doesn’t mean I can’t express my disappointment about it all, especially if a follower asks for my opinion about it.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Making It Up as I Go Along

Another from the archives.

Jane Seymour had been a mother for twelve days.

She had wished on all the stars that it had been longer.

Most of that, she doesn’t remember: she was in bed, sick and dying. Infection, she later found out. 

All she remembers is pain.

Regardless, the main point is that Jane Seymour had no idea how to be a mother. The others had more time with their children - or one of the other’s, in the case of Parr - and Jane simply didn’t. She didn’t think she was ever going to regardless of the time period she was in, either; it just didn’t sit right with her, having a child now. Not when she’s back for another reason.

That all changed, however, a few weeks into rehearsals.

At first, it’s just small things: asking Katherine about her day, telling her to put a jacket on, general caring things she’d say to any of the girls. The two of them got along well enough already, already pretty good friends.

It was at night when Jane heard Katherine sobbing that Seymour started to realize how she felt about Katherine.

Jane had been headed back to her room when she stopped at Katherine’s door; a weird sound had made her do so. It was soft sobs, she realized, and instantly she’s knocking gently on the door.

“Katherine? It’s Jane. I… can I come in?” she asks quietly. When she hears a small sound of approval, she enters slowly.

There, Katherine is curled up on the bed, knees to her chest, trying to breathe.

Jane quickly moves over to the small girl and kneels down in front of her.

“Hello,” Jane says, giving her a soft smile. “Did you have a nightmare?” 

Katherine nods, which makes Jane nod right back.

“Alright then. Let’s…”

She trails off. What exactly is she supposed to do here? 

It takes a moment, but she stands back up and sits next to Howard, arms outstretched. She hesitates, but Kat is eventually in for a hug. Jane tries to help calm her down, but not much does. 

Jane doesn’t know what to do.

“How are-” she starts, but then Katherine pulls back, still sniffling.

“I’m okay now,” she says. She’s clearly not, but she’s putting on a strong face. “You can go back to your room. I’m sorry for keeping you up so late.”

Jane doesn’t want to leave; she wants to help make Katherine feel better, to get her to smile genuinely. 

But she also wants to respect Katherine’s space.

“Okay,” Jane says, giving her a soft smile of her own. “Just… if there’s anything - anything - that I can do, please let me know, okay? I’m only a door down.”

“I know,” Katherine replies with a smile. “Thank you, Jane. I’ll talk to you in the morning.

The door shuts behind Jane and she stands there for a moment. She hears Katherine pick up on the crying and her heart hurts for the girl.

So she makes the resolution. She makes the promise. She’s going to be there for this child. She might not have ever had a chance with her own, but… she can do this. She can help Katherine.

But now, she had to learn.

That night, she walked into Parr’s room, asked a few questions outright. Parr had an idea of why she was asking, but never confirmed it. The two discuss caring for children, how that worked for Parr with Edward and Elizabeth, and various other tips and tricks. 

“You’re gonna do great, Jane,” Parr says knowingly. “You’ll figure it out. We all do eventually.”

Later on, Jane manages to corner Anna this time, asking questions about her relationship with Howard and how the girl generally operated. She asked about their history - she had read about them online, but she felt like it wasn’t enough - and how Katherine was back then versus now. Jane had tried to be subtle with the questioning, but the more she continued, the more the knowing look on Anna’s face made it apparent.

“Trying to go above and beyond for Kit, hm?” Anna asks, a smile on her face. “It’s good. It’ll be nice to have someone else also actively looking out for her.”

Later that morning - okay, well, afternoon - she manages to corner Boleyn and ask her a bit about caring for Elizabeth. Anne didn’t seem as willing to discuss it all, but she answered things easily enough. She gave a few pointers that Parr didn’t, told her some cute stories about the child, went on and on about how brilliant Elizabeth was and how important she was to her.

“For Howard, though,” Boleyn says, knowing easily enough what this was about. “I think you should just… feel it out. You have the instincts, clearly.“

Finally, later on that night, she gets the courage to talk to Aragon about Mary. 

Mary was a bit of a sore subject for Jane as well; though she had managed to get Henry to reconcile with her, she knew that Mary wasn’t exactly thrilled to accept Henry’s demands. If Jane was a bit stronger, a bit wiser, she might have been able to figure something out that could have helped Mary, but at the time she just wasn’t aware. Regardless, this was still the conversation that Jane was the least looking forward to; not because of Aragon herself, but rather because of Mary’s legacy.

It’s something Aragon didn’t talk about in public. Even on press tours, most people don’t discuss it. Jane’s heard the queen cry late at night, mumbling Mary’s name and “why” and so many questions that fall on intruding ears. 

She knows this is going to be painful for Aragon. But she does it anyways.

At first, Aragon is surprised to be asked that by Jane of all people. But then, she answers questions almost as simply as Parr does, and with little resistance. When Jane has enough information, she can’t help but add:

“I’m sorry,” Jane says, “If this was a bit much for you.”

“It’s fine,” Aragon replies. “I’m sure Howard will appreciate the guidance you’ll provide.”

Jane wanted to ask how Aragon knew about her intentions, but Aragon is out of the room before she can put in another word.

So it starts there: researching from primary sources is complete. Next, online.

Parr warned her about online sources, as apparently they might not be totally reputable. 

“You’ll need to keep things in context,” Parr explains, “and figure out if that’s good for the situation. If there’s any questions, just call me, okay?”

So Jane starts on Google. Goes on Wikipedia, reads a bunch of blogs, watches videos from YouTube, as much as she can. She’s deep into a fifteen minute video when she just sighs and turns it off; it wasn’t helping. Nothing was.

These are for normal parents with normal circumstances; certainly not what this was.

So, Jane decides to just… figure it out.

Progress is slow and awkward; Jane tries to make herself a bit more available to Katherine, who notices the increase of attention but is not bothered a bit by it. They talk a bit more often and more in-depth: not just their histories, but their feelings, how frustrated Katherine was with Parr about some trivial thing, about how Boleyn was off doing shenanigans or something. It’s funny, sometimes, but most of the time it’s them being there with each other, with Jane supporting Katherine as much as she can.

That doesn’t come without awkward moments, however. Sometimes, Jane tries to make Katherine do something - “clean your room,” for example - and it earns a weird look from Howard. Jane is quick to backtrack on that, however, as soon as she sees the weird look on Howard’s face. Parr or Boleyn or Aragon is quick to recover for her, either reinforcing the request or making a quick joke that alleviates the tension. 

Jane makes notes all the while, but apparently, Howard has as well.

One morning, it’s just the two of them before a matinee. Jane’s already made breakfast for the group - a normal thing, now - and Howard’s up a bit earlier than expected.

“Hey,” Jane says, smiling brightly at her. “You’re up a bit earlier than usual.”

“I heard you in here and wanted to hang out,” Howard replies, yawning. “That, and pancakes.” 

Jane chuckles. “Fair enough.”

They settle into comfortable silence before Howard finally speaks:

“You’ve been… off, lately,” Howard says, sitting down at the counter. “Is something the matter?”

“What?” Jane asks, trying to laugh it off. It only makes her more suspicious. “I… what??? No, nothing’s the matter, absolutely nothing, completely and totally fine and-”

“Definitely not panicking right now, got it,” Katherine replies with a bit of a smile. She slides her arms across the counter and puts Jane’s hands into her own.

“It’s okay, Jane. You can tell me. We’re family, remember?”

Jane blinks.

“I… just like that?” she asks, tilting her head.

Katherine mimics Jane’s movement.

“What do you mean? Of course, just like that.” Katherine replies with a bit of a chuckle. “After everything we’ve been through… I, at least, thought we were family.” 

She frowns, a scary thought forming:

“Unless… you don’t think so?”

“Oh! No, no, that’s not, nope.” Jane laughs awkwardly again. “No, I just… I really-” she sighs, putting her head in her hands. “I don’t want to mess it up,” she says through said hands, looking back up at Katherine. “I want to help you, Kit. That’s all I want to do. Because I know how hard it’s been for you, and I just… I want to be there to support you as best as I can.” 

Katherine smiles and moves around the counter to give Jane a big hug.

“I know. And I love you for it, Jane,” she says. Then, with  an impish smirk, she pinches Jane’s cheek in jest.

“You’re such a mom.”

With a wink, she moves away and back to her room with food in hand.

Jane looks over towards Katherine’s retreating form with a wondrous expression. Then, to herself:

“Did she just say…?”

“Told you you’d figure it out.”

Jane looks over to find Parr leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, smiling brightly. Jane nods quickly before smiling as big as Parr’s ever seen it.

“Yeah… I guess I have.”