#on next week on arte so make a note in your calendars!

[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 3

leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary:  You go back to school and you try and make yourself useful

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, misogyny 

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

PART 3

“30 days has September, April, June and November…”

You had set yourself the task today to make yourself a calendar.  Maths had never been your strongest subject in school, but you were excellent at remembering, so you knew the month song off by heart and were mumbling it to yourself as you began digging into your desk draw to retrieve some art supplies.

The decision to make the calendar had hit you last night when you were reading one of your new library books before bed and the return receipt slipped out of the back cover and onto your lap.  Normally, it was the very first thing you retrieved when you got home from the library, making sure to mark the return dates down on your big white board calendar on the fridge.  But you were still getting used an entirely new routine in your new house and you’d completely forgot to look for the slip.

Now that you had it though, you had to make sure you noted down the dates somewhere you could easily see them.  So, with a few pieces of paper, a ruler and some markers, you drew up a calendar for the next few months.  By checking the borrow date on the receipt and counting how many days it had been since your library visit, you managed to figure out what todays date was.  From there, and with the help of that handy month song, you’d managed to fill in the rest of the dates.   

When it was all completed you stepped back to examine your work.  If you were honest with yourself, your lines could have been drawn straighter and your handwriting could have been much, much neater.  But you didn’t have the energy to redo it, so it would have to do.  For now. 

You surveyed your room for someone to put it.  In your old house your calendar was on the fridge, out in the open for everyone to see and help you keep track of.  Here, it needed to be hidden from your Aunties, so that it was your responsibility, and your responsibility alone, to make sure you were staying on top of everything.

Everything.

A wave of guilt crashed over you as you remembered all the other things you would keep track of on your calendar.  Now that you were a big girl, you had been helping around the house and you had chores.  You would set the table and help take the cups and plates and spoons out of the dish washer (only Mummy and Daddy could touch the knives).  You would also check for mail every morning and there was a pretty purple watering can you got use to water the flowers in the front garden a couple of times a week.

But you didn’t do any of that here at your Aunties house.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Part of you worried that your Aunties didn’t trust you enough to ask you to help out around the house.  Perhaps they thought you weren’t smart enough or strong enough or big enough to lend a hand.  Or maybe they were secretly mad that you hadn’t insisted on helping and were keeping a top-secret list of all the times you didn’t help out and they would present it to you on a big, long scroll on the day they kicked you out their house.

You shuddered at the thought of that.  That was a day you thought about often.  You didn’t know how many days or weeks or months it was until the baby was here, but surely your time here at your Aunties house was running out.  You needed to do everything in your power to be good until then so that they didn’t kick you out any sooner.  

That night before tea, you made sure to wash your hands extra good before heading into the kitchen where your Aunty Lessi was cooking.  

“Aunty Lessi, could I set the table?”

“Oh sure!  If you’d like.  Just give me a moment and I’ll show you where everything is.”

You grinned in silent satisfaction, glad that it seemed like your Aunty wasn’t outright opposed to you proving your worth.  After your Aunty Lessi finished with whatever she was stirring on the stove, she led you over to various cupboards and drawers and pointed out where the placemats, plates and cutlery lived.  Whilst there were a few plastic cups in the same cupboard as the plates for you to use, the glasses your Aunties drank out of were on a higher shelf that were too high for you to reach.

“Don’t worry about those, I can grab them” she insisted.

“I could get a chair or something to stand on?”

“Don’t be silly, Bun Bun.  I’ll get them.  Thank you for getting everything else though.”

Silly. Silly. Silly.

Once you were all sat down for dinner, you watched your Aunty Lessi spin spaghetti around her fork before you took a deep breath in and began.

“Did I do okay at setting the table?”

“You did a great job, Bunny!” Your Aunty Leah was smiling big and bright at you.  She had a bit of sauce on her chin, but you thought it would be rude to tell her.

“Do you think I could do it every night?” you asked.

“Uhh… I mean, if you want to, sure.”

Victory.  One chore to add to the calendar.

“What about the post?  Can I be in charge of checking that too? Does it come in the mornings?”

You observed as your Aunties caught eyes with each other across the table, seeming to have a silent conversation.

“Umm, yes I suppose you could do that if you like,” Aunty Lessi nodded.

“Great!  And I can help empty the dishwasher.  No knives of course, but I can do spoons and plates and bowls and cups and stuff.  And maybe I can water some of your flowers, or all of them?  Or I can learn how to do other stuff too.  Like I could figure out how to do the laundry or clean the bathrooms or anything you want really…”

You hadn’t really realised, but you had pulled your knees up to your chest as your rant had gone on.  Your head was now resting on top of them as you looked eagerly between your Aunties, waiting for their response.  They were doing the silent conversation thing again.

“You don’t need to do all those things sweetheart.  We appreciate you offering, but maybe we’ll wait until you’re a bit older to do things like the laundry and stuff, yeah?” your Aunty Lessi responded.

You felt your stomach drop.  Your Aunty Lessi’s voice was kind, but you knew what her words meant.  They didn’t think you were big enough to help.

“How about we start off with setting the table for tea and checking the mail?  You’re still just settling in here, so we don’t wanna overload you with too much stuff to remember to do.”

--

It may have been bright and sunny outside, but today was a day you had been absolutely dreading.  You had decided to hang your calendar on the back of your bedroom door so that nobody but you would see it, and you had made sure to mark this day with a bright red circle and big a sad face.  Today was the day you were going back to school. 

You weren’t sure how it was decided or who decided, but you’d had a couple of weeks away from school after the fire and now it was time to go back.

You had only been back at school for 3 weeks of the new school year before the fire happened, so your parents had only just bought you brand-new dresses and shoes to replace the previous ones you’d outgrown.  Your pencil case had been filled with fresh crayons and sharp pencils, and you’d only just put a really cool new bunny sticker that your Uncle Gio had given you on your lunchbox.  But now, you had to start all over again.

So today, as you sat in front office with your Aunties, you were wearing a brand-new school dress and shoes and socks and Aunty Lessi had done your hair in a pretty braid with some pretty ribbons.  You also had a brand-new backpack and lunch box and pencil case, and you even had a brand-new iPad in a shiny purple case. 

In theory, you were all set to go.

But just under the surface, just beneath the layer of hairspray and the stiff gingham fabric, you were absolutely dreading heading back to the big noisy classroom and scary, sticky playgrounds.

You didn’t have heaps of friends at school like most of the other kids seemed to have.  You did have one good friend though.  Nora.  She also really liked to read and was super into comic books and superheros.  You didn’t really understand why she liked them, but you were more than happy to listen to her when she wanted to tell you all about them.  You would then tell her some cool bunny facts in return. 

This year the school librarian, Mr Webster, had let you both work on a big jigsaw puzzle every lunchtime.  He kept it safe and flat on a special piece of wood that he hid on top of his bookshelf in his office when you weren’t working on it.  It was a really, really big puzzle with loads more pieces than any other puzzle either of you had ever done before.  You were both determined to finish it before Christmas, but you weren’t sure if Nora had kept going while you were away.  You hoped she had but you also secretly hoped there was still some pieces left for you to do.  

Unlike previous years, Nora wasn’t in your class this year.  You were in Mrs Green’s class, and she was in Miss Roberts’ class.  You’d both written a letter to each teacher requesting to be swapped into each other’s class, but it hadn’t worked.  You were stuck alone in the classes you were in, and honestly, you were miserable. 

You see, it wasn’t that you didn’t have any other friends, that didn’t bother you much at all.  It was the fact that a bunch of the other kids seemed to actively dislike you.  In fact, the thing they seemed to like most in the whole world was picking on you.  They called you names and pulled on your hair and threw things at you.  You couldn’r really pinpoint exactly when it all started, but your first and most vivid memory was when Mitchell Timms had snatched your copy of The Worst Witch out of your hands one lunch time.  He threw it in a muddy puddle and stomped on it until all the pages were torn and the words had jumbled together.  When you ran over to try and save the book, a gift you’d received on your latest birthday, Mitchell just laughed at you and called you a “loser weirdo”. 

For the first 3 weeks of school this year, you had been sat next to a boy named Ollie and it had been awful.  He kept bumping your arm on purpose while you were trying to write and had laughed whenever you got frustrated that you had to erase and redo your mistakes.  One time he had even pulled your chair out from underneath you when you went to sit down, leading you to land on your bottom on the floor with a thud.  The whole class had pointed and laughed at you.  You had run out of the classroom and hid under a bench to try and calm yourself down.

When the teacher came to find you, you were curled in a ball, rubbing your Pocket Arthur softly against your cheek.  Pocket Arthur was your school buddy.  When you’d moved up from Reception into Primary School, your parents had bought you a miniature version of Arthur that you could keep tucked away in your pocket.  They said that now that you were going to big school, Arthur could no longer come along with you, but they wanted to make sure you still had a little buddy to always keep you company.  So, he was your Pocket Arthur, or Pockie for short. 

But he died in the fire too.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

So, on the night before you went back to school, you’d searched through your room, trying to find something to fill the big empty space left by Pockie when he died – the pocket of your school dress.  You tried crumpling up a wad of tissues, but the texture of it was all wrong.  Next you tried a balled-up pair of socks, but it felt scratchy when you tried rubbing it against your cheek.  You looked over the stuffies your Aunties had bought you, but they were all far too big to fit in your pocket.    

One of the stuffies caught your eye however as your dug through the little pile of toys.  It was on the bottom of pile, and you hadn’t seen it since you moved here.  It was a lovely and soft grey kangaroo, with pointy ears and a long tail.  You rather liked kangaroos, because while they were a completely different species to bunnies and could only be found in the wild in Australia, they kind of reminded you of really big rabbits.  As you pressed the soft fur to your cheek, something small fell in your lap.  Picking it up, you realised it was a baby kangaroo.  It must have fallen from the big kangaroo’s pouch.  It was perfect.  The perfect size, the perfect feel, the perfect squish.  You rubbed it against your cheek.  Bliss.  Holding it gently in your little hands, you squinted your eyes and ran your thumbs across the soft fur trying to figure out the perfect name for your new pocket pal.  Bailey.  She seemed like a Bailey.

And it was Bailey who you clung to, you hand shoved deep in your pocket, when the Headteacher Mrs Brinley called you all into her office.

You watched as both your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah shook hands with Mrs Brinley and then you all sat down on big uncomfortable chairs across the table from her.  You’d never been in her office before, so you took a moment to look around, noticing a bunch of certificates in big frames on the wall, a huge bookcase full of books and some photos of who you assumed were her family.

“Well, while we were very, very sad to hear about what has happened, we are glad that Y/K is back at school with us.  Hopefully being back in class will help her with getting back to her regular routine and schedule and assist her in feeling more settled.”

Her voice wasn’t unkind, but everything she said always sounded like she’d been rehearsing for it like it was a speech she had to give in front of the whole school.

“We have both of your phone numbers, as well as the number for your workplace, and we will call you should there be any issues.  But I’m sure Y/K will do just fine.”

Your Aunty Leah gently squeezed your hand that wasn’t firmly stuffed in your pocket, clinging onto Bailey for dear life.

“Mrs Green is going to meet you just back out in the front office and she will walk you up to class.  So, unless anyone has any questions, I’ll let you all get to it.”

You all shuffled back out the front office, where your teacher was waiting for you.  Aunty Lessi knelt down and gave you a big cuddle.

“Okay Bunny. You have fun on your first day back, alright?  And if anything goes wrong, or you don’t feel good or you feel sad… you just let your teacher know to call us okay.”

Aunty Leah leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead and stroked your cheek.  “You’ve got everything you need in your backpack, so you’re all set to go.  You’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

“We love you.”

The walk to your classroom was mostly filled with your teacher telling you about all the things you’d missed while you’d been away from school.  A little bubble of dread was beginning to build in your stomach as you realised all the work you now had to catch up on.  But by lunchtime that bubble had been replaced by a boulder.

Holding your lunch box and book tight to your chest, you looked around the hall for a spare seat.  Normally, you and Nora would sit together to eat your lunch and then go to the library, but to make a bad day even worse Nora was away from school today.  You had spent a solid 5 minutes looking for her, but according to a student in her class she’d had to stay home because she a nasty tummy bug.

The hall was quickly filling up as students grabbed their hot meals or lunch boxes and sat down at their chosen tables.  It quickly became apparent that the only spot left was one on the end of a table filled with some of the children who didn’t like you.  You’d spent so long looking for Nora, you’d been left with no other option.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

With a deep breath, you headed over to the table.  You sat quietly in the seat, hoping you would go unnoticed.

You didn’t.

“Why you sitting with us, Y/K?  Isn’t there anyone else you can sit with?” Jessica asked as you unzipped your lunch box.  You just shook your head in response.  A chorus of grumbles followed from the rest of the kids sitting at the table.

“Eww yuck, why does she have to sit with us?”  

“Where’s her weirdo friend?”

“Maybe she can sit on the floor instead.”

You just tried to tune them out, grabbing a sandwich out of your lunch box to munch on.  Your first bite was interrupted when the boy sitting beside you, Max, nudged you.

“Hey, were those your new Mums who brought you into school today?”

You hastily swallowed your sandwich, wanting to explain. “They’re my-” It was no use.  The group quickly began announcing their thoughts on the matter before you had a chance to correct them.

“Two Mums?  How can someone have TWO Mums?  That’s not right.”

“Yeah, my Dad says that it’s disgusting when two boys or two girls are married or kiss and stuff!”

“Oh yeah, like, have you ever saw two lads kiss? It’s weird!”

“I saw two ladies kissing when my Pop took me to the football last week.  He said they were going straight to hell!”

“As if she wasn’t weird enough, now she’s got two Mums too!”

Something inside you snapped, and you found yourself with your fists clenched and your cheeks red, Bailey long forgotten in your pocket.

“Yeah, well, they’re not my Mums, they’re my Aunties.  And they’re really nice and really clever and super cool.  And they play football for England, and and for the red and white club with the cannon!  And my Aunty Leah is the captain and everything! So that’s cooler than any of your families, ever!”

There was a short silence before they all started laughing.

“Girl’s football!  That doesn’t count!”

“That’s not real football!”

“Arsenal!  Pfffft.”

“I can’t wait to tell my Dad about this.”

“One of them looked pregnant when I saw them outside the office.  There’s no way they let her play like that!”

“That’s why they shouldn’t let girls play!”

“Wait, how is she having a baby if there’s no Daddy to put the baby in her?”

Whilst the rest of the comments had begun to muddle together and fade into the background as you tuned them all out, this last one pierced through.  Your head shot back in the direction of Jessica, the girl who had asked the question.  She was looking straight at you with her eyes squinted, twirling a strand of her hair around her pointer finger.

You hadn’t ever stopped to think about this.  To be honest you’d never really been interested in where babies came from.  You knew that whilst it varied from breed to breed, bunnies were pregnant for an average of 31 days and had litters of babies.  You also knew that humans usually only had one baby at a time and they were pregnant for around 9 months.  But you didn’t know how either bunnies or humans became pregnant.  Honestly, you were stumped.

“Guess you didn’t learn that in any of your stupid books, huh? Loser.”

[thrillered]

"You Know I Mountain Dew It For Ya" | Spencer Agnew X Reader | Pt. 4

Pt. 4: Ignoring

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Spencer texted you a couple times last night, only to be met with short responses of, “cool”, “ok”, and “sure”. It was driving him crazy, you never texted like that, even when you first met each other you were always an enthusiastic texter. He even tried calling you and you let it ring, sending a “busy” text when it went to voicemail. 

You weren’t busy. Unless you count pacing your living room as being busy. It was killing you to act this coldly towards Spencer, every time your phone vibrated and the “Spenceyyy <3” contact popped up your heart soared, then your stomach dropped. 

You felt like maybe ignoring him was a mistake, that you were pushing your best friend away. But, you’ve spent so long repressing your true feelings for him that now that they’ve surfaced it's become too much and maybe some time away would help you decide what to do. 

You considered your options as you drove to work. You could A: talk to him about your feelings during your next movie night or B: re-repress your feelings and live the rest of your life as just his best friend and more than likely have to watch him fall in love with someone that isn’t you. You think option B might kill you, so option A it is. 

You got to the office, early as usual, walking in and heading straight to the kitchen to continue your tradition, making a big pot of coffee for the rest of the office so it's hot and ready for them. This became part of your routine a long time ago and you’re always happy to do something nice for your coworkers. 

Having your coffee made you sat down at your desk, settling your headphones atop your head to play some music while you eased into your workday. It wouldn’t be too bad today since you had a half day anyway, having a dentist appointment at 1:45. Plus, you didn’t have to shoot anything today since they accomodated your appointment when they made your shoot block this week. 

You were finishing a draft for a script you’ve been writing as people started to make their way in, lifting their mugs in thanks as they passed your desk. You sent the script to Courtney and Patrick so that they could give you feedback.

Your first real responsibility was a meeting regarding your next shoot block. You walked to the conference room and sat down, pulling up your calendar and a doc to take notes. Spencer, Ian, Kiana, and a few others joined you, pulling out their laptops as well. 

You tried not to make eye contact with Spencer, simply nodding at his words instead of responding or interjecting. The meeting was going smoothly, they informed you that you were going to be in quite a few more videos than usual the next shoot block in response to your newfound musical fame because they think it will increase viewership.

“One last thing Y/N, we wanted to know if you would be interested in guesting on Smosh Mouth this week? You can talk about your music journey and what this fame is like and give some insider information about Espresso.“ Kiana stated shuffling through some papers. 

“We know you already promised a live stream on Instagram but we think it would be a great episode. They were going to film another weird subreddits episode but we can do that whenever, we’d be able to film and turnaround the video within the week of shooting it.” Spencer added, trying to lock eyes with you. 

“Yeah that sounds awesome” You agreed, knowing it meant you could be more vague on the live stream today, giving you more time to figure out how you’re gonna go about the “Spenspresso” allegations.

You went over some more logistical stuff before parting ways, going back to your desk and putting your headphones back on, hoping it will signal to Spencer that you don’t want to talk. 

The rest of your morning was filled with other meetings, sketch writing with Courtney, and you even went over to the art department to help with a few props. Before long everyone broke for lunch, which was your queue to leave. You packed your bag while everyone was getting ready for lunch and slipped out while everyone was occupied. 

–

Spencer’s eyes darted around the lobby, trying to land on your figure, only to turn up empty. He did a lap around the office looking for you, finishing at your desk where he noticed your stuff was gone and you had left for the day. 

“Looking for Y/N?” Alé asked, pulling out a drawer of your desk and setting some papers that you requested inside. “She had an appointment so she left early.” 

At this point Spencer was even more confused and frankly just hurt. You usually told him everything and it's been days without any real communication, you won’t make eye contact with him, and now you left without saying goodbye. He couldn’t take it anymore, he felt like he was losing his best friend. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, the past few days felt like purgatory, like he was being punished for some reason. Every hour he spent without you his heart ached.

He searched for Angela, knowing if anyone could help him it was her. Outside of himself Angela was one of your closest friends and he knew you two talked about basically everything. 

“Hey Angela, you busy?” He asked, approaching the table she was sitting at with Amanda and Erin. 

“Just eating,” She began, “If this is work related it can wait though, I have 20 more minutes of lunch.” 

“It’s actually a personal matter but I, uh, I think you can help me.” Spencer explained.

“Okay,” Angela agreed, confused, looking back to the table. “I’ll be back.” 

Spencer guided Angela to the games pod and sat on the couch as she pulled a chair up. 

“So what's up Spence?” 

He sighed hard, trying to figure out the best way to approach the topic. “It’s about Y/N..” He began, glancing up to Angela, “She’s just been kinda weird lately and unlike herself and it’s kinda worrying me, I guess.” 

Angela couldn’t help but laugh, she knew exactly why you were being weird. You had spent 2 hours on facetime last night expressing every emotion you’ve been feeling lately. She knew about your love predicament, granted, she tried to convince you that avoiding Spencer wasn’t going to help anything. 

“Why are- Why are you laughing?” Spencer questioned, laughing nervously. 

“You two are idiots, you guys seriously just need to fucking talk.” Angela reassured. “You didn’t do anything wrong if that's what you’re wondering. You know I love Y/N but she avoids issues like this so you gotta just, kinda, corner her? About it? If that makes any sense.”

“Thanks Ang,” Spencer began, mulling this information around in his head.

“Well if that’s all solved I’m going back to enjoy my,” she trails off, checking her apple watch and doing the math in her head, “14 minutes left of lunch.” 

Spencer laughed as she walked off, really hoping she was right and you weren’t upset at him. Feeling slightly better about the whole situation he finished his lunch at his desk, playing your music in his headphones, feeling more relaxed as he listened to your voice.

–

You pressed the ‘Go Live’ button on instagram, watching the notification go out and people rush in. You said hey and talked casually for a few minutes as more people joined. When there were a good few thousand you began.

“Alright, we all know why we’re here, you wanna talk about Espresso.” You started, remembering the smosh mouth episode you quickly added, “Just to preface I’m doing an exclusive smosh mouth episode that is coming out next week where I’ll be going more in depth and you’ll be able to ask me questions through a community tab on youtube! So if I don’t mention something, don't fret! There will be more answers. But for now, what do you wanna know?” You asked, opening the floor to questions. 

Hundreds flooded in, almost too fast for you to read any. Choosing a mild one you read, “How long have I been working on Espresso? Great question, I’d say about…. Eight? Months?” You estimated. 

–

The stream was easy if you ignored all comments about Spencer. A lot of people were respectful though, and asked you interesting questions about your career and the technical aspect of Espresso. You ended the stream after about 15 minutes, reminding everyone you’d be answering questions on smosh mouth and they’d be able to watch it next week. 

Since it was friday night you decided to treat yourself, you opened a bottle of wine and sipped on a glass while you waited for your postmates, you had ordered your favorite sushi take-out. You deserved it after the stressful week you’ve had post Espresso release.

You were lounging on your couch, casually playing animal crossing on your tv when you heard a knock on your door. You grabbed some cash to give an additional tip before opening the door with a “Thank you so much!”. Unfortunately, it was not the delivery driver but Spencer. He was standing in your doorway holding a bag from your favorite bakery. 

“Hey Y/N, can we, uh, can we talk?”

[digitalgirlguide]

Beyond Bubble Baths: A Realistic Guide to Wellness, Hygiene Hacks, Energy Cleansing, and the Art of Setting Healthy Boundaries

self-care as we know it has been reduced to retail therapy and splurging on skincare and the the essence of true well-being often gets lost in the noise of buying stuff.

you're not alone, i'm guilty of this too.if i'm sad i buy thing. i'm happy? i buy things.

and not saying that self care can't be buying yourself things because you feel like it but that's not a true reflection of self care.

self-care is a disciplined commitment to becoming the best version of yourself while tuning into your body's needs.

so what does realistic self care look like?

Take a few minutes each morning to set intentions for the day ahead.

practice gratitude by writing 3 things you're grateful for or using some of these prompts:

What are three things you are thankful for as you start your day? Consider the small details that often go unnoticed.

Recall a specific moment from today that brought a smile to your face or warmed your heart. Describe it in detail and express gratitude for that experience.

Think about any unexpected surprises or acts of kindness that came your way. How did they make you feel, and why are you grateful for them?

Before your next meal, reflect on the journey of your food from its source to your plate. Express gratitude for the nourishment it provides your body.

Organizing your day/week:

Plan with Purpose: Start your week with a glance at your calendar or planner. Note any upcoming deadlines, appointments, or social events. (A little prep goes a long way!)

Prioritize with Intent: Identify your top priorities for the week and break them down into manageable tasks. Tackling the most crucial items first ensures a sense of accomplishment. (Check off those big to-dos, and watch the momentum build!)

Time Blocking: Allocate specific time blocks for various activities. This technique helps maintain focus and prevents the day from slipping away in a blur. (Time blocking = your new productivity bestie.)

Flexibility is Key: While planning is essential, leave room for flexibility. Life throws curveballs, and being adaptable ensures you can navigate unexpected changes with grace. (Embrace the spontaneity – it's the spice of life!)

Self-Care Slots: Intentionally carve out moments for self-care throughout the week. Whether it's a short walk, a cozy reading break, or a meditation session, these are non-negotiable appointments with yourself. (Because self-love is a crucial part of productivity.)

Schedule regular social activities to stay connected: Meaningful connections are the backbone of a healthy support system. (Humans need socialization – it's science!)

Hygiene tips for mind and body

Begin your day with a cleansing ritual that extends beyond the physical. Consider practices like meditation (Remember, a cluttered mind can be just as burdensome as a cluttered space.)

Incorporate energy cleansing techniques into your routine, such as using crystals (clear quartz, black tourmaline, amethyst, rose quartz, selenite) to clear negative energy from your surroundings. (Just as we dust and declutter our physical spaces, it's important to cleanse the energetic residue that accumulates throughout our day-to-day lives.)

Recognize the importance of setting boundaries and restricting access to yourself when necessary. (You're not obligated to be constantly available to others, and it's okay to prioritize your own needs and well-being.) Surround yourself with people who uplift and inspire you, who make you feel good and encourage you to be your best self. (Life is too short to waste time on relationships that drain your energy and diminish your spirit.)

Embrace a straightforward yet consistent skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize, and shield your skin from the sun – simplicity meets effectiveness.

Practice regular handwashing to ward off germs, especially before meals and after restroom visits. (Your hands will thank you, and so will your immune system.)

Simple ways to show up for yourself everyday

Practice self-compassion and forgiveness, recognizing that perfection is an illusion and mistakes are opportunities for growth. (We're all human, and it's okay to stumble along the way.)

Listen to your body's signals and honor its needs, whether that means nourishing yourself with wholesome food, getting regular exercise, or allowing yourself time to rest and recharge. (Your body is your greatest ally and deserves to be treated with kindness and respect.)

Embrace moments of joy and playfulness, indulging in activities that bring you laughter and delight. (Life is meant to be savored, not endured.)

let's reshape the narrative of self-care into a journey of discipline, mindfulness, and attunement to our inner voices.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Elves: Time and Growing Up An Elf

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest. Frankly these posts may get updated now and then. etc]

Physiology and quirks | Names & Clans and Houses || Pan-Cultural things: Social life | Time and 'Growing Up an Elf' | Homes | Language | Art | Entertainment | Technology || Elven 'Subraces' still a wip || Philosophy and Religion & Pantheons || Half-elves | [WIP]

Featuring elven time measurements and age as a social construct within elven culture, also the education system and retirement. Humans in the Realms would say you're an adult when you hit puberty: Elves say you're a real adult when you're in the equivalent of your 40s, puberty means nothing. Also; please don't use the period of elven youth and the human concept of childhood interchangeably, it annoys the elves.

-

Concept of Time:

'To the elves, measuring historical time by years would be as if calendars noted everything in months or tendays.'

Elves, left in isolation, supposedly don't really bother with tracking time, though they 'politely' adapt to the calendars and time measurement systems of others where necessary (so an elf in Baldur's Gate is going to be using the Calendar of Harptos and counting the breaths (minutes), bells (hours) and tendays and using terms like 'highsun' to communicate with their neighbours and keep on top of events and the working week.)

Due to many holy days being seasonal, and especially lunar-cycle based, elves do at least have a sense of time keeping terminology around those, and elven farmers need to track the seasons for the sake of their crops.

There are also archaeological time measurements of time called rysar, analogous to 'generation' or 'era,' measuring the length of an elven ruler's reign. So the reign of King Zaor Moonflower was one rysar of Evermeet, and when his wife Amlaruil succeeded him that started the next rysar of Evermeet. Each rysar is broken down into four-year cycles, formally called Aeloulaeva ('When Peace Meets') or, somewhat more colloquially, Pyesigeni ('four snows') which is the cycle around the holy day of Cinnelas'Cor, later celebrated by humans as Shieldmeet. These dates would be written 'the [nth] Rysar of [Realm], and the [nth] Aeloulaev of the Coronal/Iyilitar [Name].'

Elven terminology for time measurements:

A moon (a month)

Nelath (a season)

Tenwinter (a decade, probably actually a human term)

Pysigen / Aeloulaev (a four year period)

Rysar (a generation, era, period)

-

'Maturity':

(Physical aging was covered back in physiology, here we're talking about the elven social constructs (not to be confused with the social constructs of human society). This also ties into the Road of Life described in the philosophy and religion write up.)

Humans might compare the period of elven adolescence to childhood or teenage years, though elves will be offended by the comparison. Humans would also most likely see a young elf as a fellow adult.

Elves do have a notion of a period of life where somebody is considered too inexperienced to be without guidance or expected to carry full responsibilities and the goal posts for what makes you a mature adult shifts for beings with a psychology that considers the passage of centuries where humans see years.

Traditional models of elven culture will consider an elf to be immature at least up to age 60. And an elf over 60 is still not formally considered mature until they're into their 'third or fourth' century of life. Presumably, up to that age they're equivalent to a young adult being fully released into the 'adult world' for the first time, though I suspect the elves would find this comparison an insulting and poor analogy too. The specifics of growing up and how children are raised and what they're taught varies by subrace. A moon elf, a green elf and a dark elf will have very different histories, but for the gist:

At least the first 50 years of life will be focused on education, and popular belief says that a young elf, with their flighty human-like psychology, is at their most impressionable age there and so it's important that this window of time is used wisely. As a rule: sun elves, drow and conservative moon elves (especially nobles) are keen to see their children 'shaped' towards a certain outcome, while green, wood and the majority of moon elves prefer to see their offspring develop organically, growing the way their own choices and nature dictates by chasing their own whims.

The elven term for the stage where an infant is this weird pudgy thing learning to walk and talk that many call toddlers is 'veorean' (I assume the singular to be 'veoren' based on similar grammar patterns seen elsewhere).

Until age 10-20 an elf is educated by an elderly family member or respected community elder, covering literacy, faith, history, clan and culture (as well as an idea of the larger world). They are also taught about the natural world, and - in the case of surface elves at least - encouraged to explore it and engage in physical activity like swimming and climbing. Sex ed is likewise on the curriculum, both because the Realms doesn't share Earth's religious mores about sex, and because elven youth are known to be temperamental, impulsive and horny so you might as well try and make sure they're safe while they're being stupid. On the plus side, according to one source elves aren't fertile until their second century so unplanned pregnancy isn't on the list of consequences at least (I'm not sure whether or not there's anything published that contradicts this, if there isn't then it's canon).

Elves at this age are encouraged to mingle with others (conservatively this will be other elves, more liberally this may include N'Quess) Some elven communities have schools specifically for this purpose. All elves receive a basic education in magic, and are expected to spend at least a year studying it and being tested for the Gift, even if they don't ultimately become mages. Furthermore all elves are to receive a basic martial education and are expected to be able to defend themselves and their homelands. For elves on the surface this includes the longbow, rapier and bows (long and short). Underdark-born dark elves favour the shortsword, rapier and crossbow.

If you grow up in an elven settlement you can generally expect to be shipped off to the temple of Corellon for the elven equivalent of 'sunday school', even if your parents aren't religious. Or possibly to the local druids, for the more sylvan inclined. Lolthites have one of the family priestesses handle the children's religious education. If you don't have a temple then your family teaches you or I'd imagine you probably still have a local community 'sunday school,' seeing as elven diaspora often maintain cultural and community ties and run businesses that cater to elven and half-elven clientele for this purpose.

From 10-50 the elf will learn from their elders, their family members and any tutors their house can afford, and past 20 is generally the age range where you start looking into academies and formal training. 25, more specifically, is the age at which the children of Menzoberranzan's nobility are sent to the Academy by law and some sources have extended that to all drow.

Many elven settlements will usually have schools for mages, artisans and warriors, and this is also the age range where you can engage in serious theological education at the temples. In many dark elven city states it's expected that their children will be trained in all three (priest, mage, warrior) to at least some degree, and it's possible some surfacers share the sentiment. While commoners may access magical education, usually only nobles are automatically accepted into various mage organisations where the lowborn elf must have a sponsor from within the organisation.

Nobles and those who can afford it are very eager to expose their children to the best they can get, and private tutors are also on the table.

By 50 it's expected that an elf will have developed a solid identity and set of skills and inclinations, which will help them decide what path to take in life and the next decade is spent essentially polishing those skills, essentially moving towards the second stage of the Road of Life, although some elves will linger longer in the first stage.

Of course we can't all be priests, soldiers, artists and wizards: many elves will be employed in their house's business as famers, sailing on their family's merchant vessels, running the family tavern, working as a dockhand, etc. There's not much detail on that because the nobles are hogging all the published wordcount. The good news is that in a society where people are fully awake 20 hours of the day-night cycle and all businesses are open all the time, you have a lot of free time.

An elf cannot hold an office of power or inherit any titles and such until they've completed their education and gained sufficient (elven) life experience, usually at around 90 years old.

Elves can be very sceptical of letting the youth run off adventuring during the first century of life (or ever as far as sun elves and conservatives are concerned), though that's never stopped anyone.

Complaints about elven youths - or 'younglings' as their elders address them - include:

'...nearly humanlike in their impatience and inability to see beyond the immediate consequences of their actions.'

Moody, impatient, reckless, bad-tempered, horny idiots. Often actually more emotional than non-elves.

Clumsy*

Selfish and prone to criminal activity.

No respect for elven culture and traditions or their elders, insist on living like a human instead

'[they] mate with nonelves.'

Non-elves on the other hand apparently find elves of their own age to feel more mature than them.

For the most part their elders just sigh and leave them to it. Elves engaging in evil shit are usually given a pass, as said claim it's just the inexperience of youth, the 'restless young ones'/ardavanshee will outgrow it in a century or two.

*The grace and dexterity elves are famous for is apparently the side effect of their long lives, lack of aging, and the self-reviewing in reverie allowing them to 'get to know' their bodies, its capabilities and limitations, to a deeper level than the average human. Young elves are not so graceful in comparison, though they do have that 'dancing' gait from walking on the balls of their feet.

According to some sources you're not a full fledged 'adult' until 'between 250-300 winters.' And sources that have elves physically mature slowly have them take 80-145 years to fully physically mature, so elves definitely do not count physical maturity as elven 'adulthood.'

250-300ish years, incidentally, is listed as the elven equivalent of the start of the 'middle' age category. (Though to be fair, a 30/40 year old is usually much more of an adult than an average 20 year old who's new to this whole thing.)

Leading up to 700 an elf is old, and generally won't be required to work nor expected to be climbing trees (provided they live in a treetop settlement). Instead the elderly, respected for their years of accumulated wisdom, are usually given the role of educators so that the youth can benefit from them and they can feel like they're still caring for their community. (Dark elves in the Underdark are usually dead by this age.)

Aged elves are rather deadpan to talk to and possibly slightly bored, having seen or heard of it all over the centuries.

At this point you're allowed to quit work and hang around the house, being supported by your community and educating the children and muttering about 'back in your day' while you wait for the Seldarine to give you a call.

Elves are noted to start properly showing their age past 800, but can live into quadruple digits which is interesting because one elf has been mentioned to be over 3000 years old, and they do sort of... keep physically aging and 'withering.' Of course they stay sexy and neurologically healthy and keep a full head of hair because they're fucking elves of course they do.

'When he looked up, he found himself staring into the tiny, shrunken face of the oldest elf he'd ever seen. Her long silver-white hair brushed the tiles below her slippered feet and her skin seemed draped over her bones . . . bones so petite and shapely that she looked exquisite rather than grotesque, despite the fact that except where her diaphanous gown intervened, El could almost see her skeleton.'

Another long aged elf, Ahkskahala Durothil is over 1200 years old, and over level 20, and a dragon rider, and is still capable of beating the shit out armies in an emergency. She spends most of her time doing the elven equivalent of napping in her chair letting people think she's dead until the idiot younglings trigger a disaster that requires her attention (i.e., 'semi-permanent reverie').

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

As the holidays speed towards us like a bullet train, here are more ways to support/survive the fiber artist in your life. (You might as well print and save these, because we fiber artists will never learn our lesson.):

DO:

Make them stop each day before they hurt themselves. @gootspatrol made mention of this in a comment and I added it to a reblog, but I want to say it again because it is fucking IMPORTANT. All fiber arts are pretty much repetitive stress injuries waiting to happen. People think our crafts are easy peasy and have no clue that even "easy" things can also injure a body if done too much for too long. Do not work through the pain, folks. It absolutely will come back to haunt you.

Tell them to step back and work on another project if they are getting frustrated with the one they are currently working. I promise you we ALL have multiple projects going. Sometimes a project is just being fucking argumentative, and the situation devolves into such cussing and threats that anyone overhearing will be sure you live with a serial killer. Putting it down and doing another for a while, or at least until that one also becomes the bane of our existence, always helps.

Remind them their bladder exists and isn't meant to be ignored. Yes, I know that sounds silly, but many fiber artists already have ADHD, and we are notorious for ignoring bodily processes. Forgettingto eat is one thing, but much as we'd love to, we can't will our bladders to go away.

From time to time gush at how amazing their project is looking. Your fiber artist will always invariably say "It sucks sweaty donkey balls. I want to set fire to it, but I spent too much damn money on it." Ignore that. They say that because none of us can take compliments. Inside we are squeeing that you noticed. (Note: Be genuine or say nothing at all. We can sense false praise faster than a cat can hear the canned food being opened.)

Be a buffer towards those who do not understand. Tell those who dismiss your loved one's work as anything other than "hard work filled with love" to fuck all the way off. Do feel free to be creative when doing so. You will immediately be a super hero and probably prevent that other person from having their brains ripped out through their nostril by a crochet hook.

DON'T:

Laugh when we say "Next year I will start earlier/make less/buy gift cards instead." Yes, we know we are just kidding ourselves and living in denial. It's a design flaw in a fiber artist's nature. Just hug us and move on.

Have a calendar counting down the days to the holiday they are working towards. Do not even mention time. Doing so will send them spiraling into an almost barbaric berserker frenzy. They will become the whirling dervish of the cartoon Tasmanian devil with fiber and notions being flung about. There is high probability you will be sucked into it and put to work. Unless you feel up to being conscripted into detangling a ramen noodle pile of yarn, sorting thread, or being used as a dress form dummy every ten minutes, just keep your mouth shut.

Play the "Let's mess up their counting by nonchalantly telling a story of our ancestor in 1583 who had 5 goats and worked 50 hours a week and made 100 clocks that told 20 different times..." Look, fiber artists are willing to do something that is so repetitive as to be injurous. Do you think a few more of such actions to turn you into a tasteful decoration will discourage them? Remember: we work with fiber, and a noose is nothing but a bunch of fibers twisted together and tied into a neat knot. Don't fuck with us.

Love y'all! Please take care of yourselves! Be safe and I hope to see lots of pics of finished projects!

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Four: A Pleasant Twist

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.

a/n: did you guys see san’s fit for the dolce & gabbana fashion show... it had me weak he straight up looked like he came from a dystopian hunger games type beat magical fantasy gods and goddesses 100k wc fic like that’s choi san from district ATE

tags: @beabatiny

The atmosphere in Hongjoong’s office was a mix of modern chic and creative chaos. The walls, adorned with framed sketches and mood boards, exuded an air of inspiration and meticulous planning. The sleek glass desk was cluttered with fabric swatches, design drafts, and a laptop perpetually open to design software. Large windows let in natural light, illuminating the room and casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Shelves lined with fashion magazines featuring either his designs or Hongjoong himself, awards in varying categories, and an array of art supplies hinted at the relentless creativity that filled the space.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the latest designs. Seonghwa stood across from him, tablet in hand, listing off upcoming tasks.

“We’re still months away from the fashion week, but it feels dangerously close,” Seonghwa noted, swiping through the digital calendar. “You’re still without your sketchbook, so we need backup designs just in case.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’s been making use of Seonghwa’s digital tablet to work on new designs, but it just doesn’t hit the same as sketching on the rough surface of a paper. Well, Seonghwa has been trying to convince him he only feels that way because drawing digitally is an entirely foreign experience to him, but he swears it’s more than that. You wouldn’t get it, is what he’d usually say. “I know. I’m working on new designs, but it’s hard to compensate for everything I had in that sketchbook. There’s so much detail and inspiration in those lost pages.”

“Well… maybe we should schedule extra brainstorming sessions with the team. It might help to get more input," Seonghwa suggested, his tone pragmatic. There’s only so much a single personal assistant could do, especially regarding important matters they’re short of time on, after all.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk thoughtfully. “Seems like a good plan. We can set up a few sessions next week. Also, I want to review the progress of our new recruits. We need fresh faces ready for the casting call.”

“Oh, speaking of recruits, have you thought about expanding our outreach programs?” Seonghwa continued, making notes on his tablet. “More workshops and seminars could attract new talent to the agency. It’s also a good way to give back to the community.”

“Yes, definitely. And I also want to collaborate with more local designers,” Hongjoong agreed, his voice gaining a note of enthusiasm. There were still a lot of things to sort out, but at least they’re no longer heading forward empty-handed, right? “It’s important to foster community connections and bring in diverse perspectives. We could host a local designer showcase leading up to the fashion week.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds perfect. We should also consider revamping our social media strategy. More behind-the-scenes content, live Q&A sessions, stuff that really engages our audience. 90% of people spend more than half the average day on their phone, anyway, so it would be a good idea to improve our marketing strategies online.”

“Right,” Hongjoong replied, leaning forward and straightening his posture. “I’ve noticed our engagement has been a bit stagnant. Let’s brainstorm some fresh content ideas and maybe even a mini-documentary series about our design process.”

As they were continuing to talk endlessly about gaps they needed to fill in order to ensure the brand’s utmost and consistent success, a thought suddenly resurfaced in Seonghwa’s mind. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but she said yes.”

Hongjoong looked puzzled, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Since when did you have a significant other?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes dramatically, not being able to distinguish whether A. Hongjoong was just trying to push his buttons, or B. His brain development had reversed throughout the night and thus, is now being outright dumb. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. “No, you stupid goon. I’m referring to the girl from Rue de la Paix.”

“Oh, alright. Wait—she said yes?” Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise.

At that exact moment, Wooyoung entered the room with a dramatic flair. “Whoa, who said yes? Didn’t know you had it in you, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung teased. Just then, an empty folder came flying his way, nearly hitting him right at his face if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s for accomplishing the mission of being even more stupid than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa deadpanned, shrugging. “What are you doing here anyway, Wooyoung? I thought you had no activities scheduled for today.”

Wooyoung grinned and flopped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably. “Yeah, but Hongjoong’s office couch is comfortable and I’m experiencing back pain. Needed a place to relax.”

“And who told you you could just do that?”

“...My free will?”

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong, who didn’t even need to hear the words come out of his mouth. “No surprises at all. He does this all the time.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong always putting in his best efforts when it comes to avoiding Wooyoung during his work hours was now starting to make sense to Seonghwa. “No wonder you’re so sick of him,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I can hear both of you very well, you know?” Wooyoung quipped, scrolling through his phone without looking up. “Actually, nevermind. Knowing you two, you’re probably doing that on purpose.”

“Nice theory. Whatever,” Seonghwa dismissed, turning back to Hongjoong. “Anyway, what I meant by her saying yes is that she agreed to attend the casting. She didn’t say it directly, but she called me in the middle of the night to ask for further details. Plus, she replied to my message about wishing her luck and hoping she wouldn’t back out. So, I think it’s safe to assume she’s going to attend.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened with a mix of relief and curiosity. “That’s great news. I’m really curious to see what she brings to the table.”

“Who’ll bring what to the table?” Wooyoung interjected, finally looking up from his phone with genuine interest. “You both seem pretty invested in this person.”

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “A girl from Rue de la Paix that I scouted pretty recently. I believe she has great potential.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. If you’re both that excited, she must be something special,” he mused to himself before looking back down on his phone screen.

Hongjoong hummed in agreement before turning his attention back to the topic at hand. He adjusted the sleeves of his tailored blazer and leaned forward, glancing at the tablet Seonghwa held. “So, about the upcoming projects, I think we should focus more on integrating sustainable fabrics,” Hongjoong said, his tone serious and thoughtful. “It’s not just a trend; it’s a necessity for the future of fashion.”

Seonghwa nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “Got it. We should reach out to more suppliers who specialize in eco-friendly materials. I’ll set up meetings with potential partners next week.”

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with inspiration. The endless days of working he always had to go through were indeed tiring, but the creative process throughout it all and everything that came out of it were always worth the progressively lessening hours of sleep on his behalf. “And for the designs, I want to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics. Something that tells a story of heritage while being innovative.”

“That’s a great direction,” Seonghwa agreed, looking up from his notes. “We could also highlight these stories in our marketing campaigns. You know, show our audience the journey behind each piece.”

Before Hongjoong could respond, Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan from the couch, rolling his eyes. “Man, hearing you two talk about work stuff when I’m supposed to be taking a break from all that is so annoying.”

Hongjoong shot him a bemused look. “Well, maybe if you wanted to take a break from your ‘work stuff,’ you should’ve considered staying home instead of lounging in a work office where work-related matters are supposed to be discussed.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes again, sitting up slightly. “Come on, can’t we set things aside and talk about casual stuff for once? It’s been a while since I last got to be in the same space as both of you, and you’re settling on talking about work?”

For a moment, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong processed his words. Then, Seonghwa was the first to chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a rather unique way to say that you miss hanging out with us.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, huh? That’s what he meant?”

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Well, you can’t blame me when the past few months have been nothing but busy schedules, busy schedules, and even more busy schedules for us. I chose to work under you two because I know we promised we’d stay together after college, but even being in the same workspace isn’t helping us have more time to spend together.”

Hongjoong sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s up with you and being so sentimental?” Quite hypocritical, as he’s been having the same thoughts as Wooyoung lately as well. The only difference between them is that Wooyoung is comfortable with expressing it, but Hongjoong? Well, not really.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and gave a knowing smile. “Don’t lie, Hongjoong. You know you feel the same way as Wooyoung does.”

Hongjoong exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Seonghwa could always see right through him regardless of if he wanted him to or not, and sometimes, he doesn’t know if he should appreciate it or be terrified. “Alright, fine. I do miss hanging out like we used to. Things have just been so hectic, especially with all the activities scheduled for the following weeks and months.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to Wooyoung. “Well, seems like you’re right, then. Since you want to talk about ‘casual stuff,’ why not initiate the conversation for us?”

Wooyoung’s eyes brightened. He knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa find him annoying sometimes—well, more often than that, actually—but he never really took it seriously, because he was aware that deep down, they both have a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, for the two older men, Wooyoung has a knack for using that fact to his advantage. “Alright, let’s see... How about we take a stroll around the city later tonight? Just to take our minds off all the stress.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That sounds like a good idea. I actually recommended Hongjoong do the exact same thing all by himself a few days ago, but I figure tagging along with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

Wooyoung beamed. “See, I knew you’d catch my drift.”

Hongjoong was a bit dismissive at first, reminding Seonghwa, “You do know the only person out of the three of us who doesn’t have anything to do today is Wooyoung, right?”

Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly. “So? I could keep lounging in here until your work hours end.”

Seonghwa chuckled, knowing Wooyoung all too well. He wasn’t one to get bored easily, no, not at all, but in a place such as, like what Hongjoong said, a work office wherein work-related matters are supposed to be discussed, it wouldn’t take longer than a second to tire his energy out. “Are you sure you won’t get bored?"

“No, totally not,” Wooyoung insisted. “I’ve even already experienced staying the night in this office without Hongjoong here, and I didn’t get bored at all. It was, like, super cool. You know those cool rich businessmen in movies who spend the night looking outside the window of their office walls on a chair with a bottle of an alcoholic beverage in hand?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, you did what?”

Wooyoung’s, however, darted nervously around the office. “Oh. I mean—”

You sat in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the blank walls and feeling the embrace of loneliness attach itself to you. The evening stretched ahead with no plans, no friends to meet, and no familiar faces to call. Seonghwa had been kind, but you barely knew him, and calling him a friend felt a little too early. Financial prudence also demanded caution; with the casting still a few days away and no guarantee of immediate income, you couldn’t afford to be reckless with how much you spend.

Maybe a walk outside could be nice?

You sighed and looked at the closet doors, debating whether it was worth the effort. The allure of fresh air and a change of scenery tugged at you, while the fear of venturing out into an unfamiliar city at night held you back. You thought about the headache from yesterday—how intense and strange it had been. It wasn’t a normal headache, and it lingered in your mind. Perhaps a stroll through the nearby park would help clear your thoughts.

With your decision now entirely made, you rose from your bed and headed to your closet. You chose a soft beige knit sweater, its cozy warmth comforting against the evening chill. Pairing it with a long, black skirt that reached down to your ankles and shoes of the same color as your sweater, you completed the outfit with a light scarf draped casually around your neck. You began fixing your appearance up, and once you were satisfied, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.

As you reached the ground floor, you spotted Madame Dupont at the entrance, preparing to leave. “Madame Dupont?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with her.

She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Ah, bonsoir! How are you, dear?” she asked, her voice warm and welcoming.

“I’m well, thank you,” you replied, offering her a smile. “Where are you off to?” Your eyes darted to the streets outside.

“I’m just heading to the grocery store,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. “What about you? Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of taking a walk,” you said, glancing towards the door once more. “But if you don't mind, I could accompany you instead.”

Madame Dupont’s face brightened even more. “Oh, that would be lovely! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

A walk to the park may have been your initial plan, but you still weren’t entirely sure the calm atmosphere of the evening would suffice to outweigh both the thoughts inside your head and your worries about possible dangers. “Not at all,” you assured her. “I’d be happy to help.”

The two of you then began to walk together to the bus stop, engaging in light conversation. “How was your day?” you asked as you waited for the bus to arrive.

Madame Dupont smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was quite eventful, actually. This morning, I had to chase Monsieur Frank’s cat out of my garden again. That rascal has a knack for digging up my flowers!”

You laughed softly, imagining the scene. Monsieur Frank’s féline, Pompidou, was indeed a little ball full of mischief. You’ve had your own set of encounters with him, such as waking up to hearing light scratches by your door—which once happened in the middle of the night and nearly made you consider moving back to Arcadia Bay, having him come out of nowhere and pounce on your shoes when you’re walking out the door, and more. You don’t know why his owner decided to name him Pompidou, but you figured it suits his personality very well. “That sounds like quite the adventure. He’s adorable, but has always been quite of a pain to deal with. Did you manage to catch him?”

“Eventually,” she chuckled. “But not before he managed to scatter soil all over my freshly planted tulips. And then, later in the afternoon, I had a lovely visit from my granddaughter. She’s starting university soon, you know. Full of excitement and nerves, that one.”

You smiled, listening intently. Oh, what would you give to experience starting university for the first time again—with nothing but excitement and nerves, just like Madame Dupont’s granddaughter and nothing like yourself. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s she going to study?”

“Art history,” Madame Dupont replied, pride evident in her voice. “She’s always had a passion for it. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d spend hours drawing and painting. I’m glad she’s pursuing something she loves.”

The bus arrived, and you both boarded, continuing your conversation during the short ride. Madame Dupont shared stories about her granddaughter’s childhood, her love for art, and her hopes for the future. You listened intently, feeling a warm sense of connection growing between you.

When you arrived at the grocery store, you offered to push the cart, an offer Madame Dupont gratefully accepted. Throughout your journey of navigating through the aisles, you reached for items on the higher shelves that she couldn’t reach, earning appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks from her.

As you placed a jar of jam into the cart, Madame Dupont continued her stories. “You know, dear, I remember when my granddaughter was just four, she painted the most beautiful landscape. We framed it and it still hangs in our living room. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of her spirit and creativity.”

“That sounds lovely,” you said, smiling at the thought. You wonder if you had moments in your childhood that were similar to hers. But then again, how would you know? “It must be wonderful to have such a talented family member.”

“I can only imagine that is exactly how your family thinks of you,” Madame Dupont mused, turning to you with a heartfelt smile. Confused, all you could do was let out an awkward chuckle. “What do you mean, Madame Dupont?” you asked, unsure what she was implying.

“You’ve only been here for quite a short while, but let me tell you, dear, it’s easy for me to be able to tell you have a genuine soul. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really appreciate it—having one of my tenants accompany me to the grocery store isn’t exactly a common occurrence.” She chuckled, placing her hand on top of yours that remained sat on the cart and rubbed her thumb on the back of it shortly before letting go.

“It’s nothing, Madame Dupont,” you attempted to counter, but she wouldn’t relent. She shook her head in response, finding it amusing how you seem to be struggling to allow yourself to accept her kind words. “Well, whatever you say,” was all she settled with before turning her attention back to her grocery shopping list.

While you and Madame Dupont continued to shop together, she suddenly stopped and turned to you. “Would you mind waiting here for a moment, dear? I need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course, take your time,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” she said, patting your arm gently before heading towards the restroom. You positioned the grocery cart in a corner to avoid blocking the aisle, then leaned against it and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through social media, you let yourself get absorbed in the digital world. Minutes passed, the hum of the store fading into the background, when you heard a voice that seemed oddly familiar coming from the other end of the aisle.

Curiosity piqued, you turned off your phone and tucked it back into your bag. Leaning forward, you peeked around the corner to see Seonghwa, reaching for an item on the shelf.

“Seonghwa?” you called out, stepping into the aisle.

His head snapped in your direction, and upon recognizing you, he broke into a warm smile. “Hey! What a surprise to see you again so soon,” he said, his voice laced with genuine delight as he pushed his cart towards you. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, gesturing to the half-full cart beside you. “Just accompanying my landlord with purchasing her groceries.”

“Oh, do you live around here?” Seonghwa tilted his head, half his hair softly falling down to the side he turned to.

“No, my apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” you explained. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?” you asked, this time gesturing to his cart.

“Oh, me?” He pointed to himself, smiling. “My friends and I were planning to spend a few hours at the park, and we figured we could stop by here for a moment to grab some snacks we could eat.”

“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going to the park, too,” you mused, sharing your initial plans for the night.

Seonghwa’s face then lit up. “Really? Why don’t you come and tag along with us? They both work at the agency that’s hosting the casting you’ll be attending, too. It would be nice if you could get to know them beforehand.”

You hesitated, glancing back towards the restroom where Madame Dupont had disappeared. “That sounds lovely, but I promised my landlord I’d help her with the shopping. Maybe another time?”

He nodded, understanding and not pressing the matter. “Sure, another time it is then. So, speaking of, how’s everything going with the casting preparations?”

“It’s been…” quite a challenge, was what you wanted to say. After all, there was some truth to it. Yet still, you didn’t want to show any signs of wavering. “It’s been going well. I’ll definitely be there.”

“Great! I really think you could be our turning point,” he said enthusiastically, his eyes earnest and full of hope.

You laughed, trying to lighten the mood and ease the pressure. “No pressure, right? Or else I might not show up.”

He grinned, playing along. “Okay, okay, no pressure.”

Just then, a voice called out his name from another part of the store. Seonghwa groaned, rubbing his temple with a resigned smile. “That’s my cue. This is why we can’t go anywhere together without causing a scene.”

You chuckled, amused by his predicament. “Having friends like that must be fun.” You wouldn’t know anything about it for sure, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe in the future, you’d also get to experience having your name be shouted in a public grocery store by a close friend of yours. Or, who knows? You could be the one shouting.

“Fun, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely,” he said, rolling his eyes but with a fond smile. “I’d better go. See you at the casting?”

“Definitely. See you,” you said, waving as he walked away. Almost immediately after Seonghwa left, Madame Dupont returned, looking refreshed. “Who was that young man you were talking to?” she asked, seemingly intrigued.

“Oh, just… an acquaintance,” you replied, still feeling quite hesitant over considering Seonghwa as a friend. Hopefully, one day, you’ll feel more comfortable referring to him with such a term. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Madame Dupont nodded, smiling warmly. “Alright, dear. Let’s continue, shall we?”

The two of you resumed your shopping, chatting and laughing as you navigated the aisles. You reached for items on the higher shelves, and Madame Dupont shared more stories about her family. Her anecdotes were heartwarming, filled with fond memories and lively descriptions. As you listened, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. These simple moments, like helping her shop and hearing her stories, were making you feel more at home in this new city.

Seonghwa pushed his grocery cart around the store, his eyes scanning the aisles as he searched for Hongjoong and Wooyoung. He maneuvered through various sections, weaving past other shoppers and glancing down every row. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he spotted them and couldn’t help but pause, taken aback by the sight.

Wooyoung was perched inside an empty shopping cart, looking quite pleased with himself, while Hongjoong pushed it with a resigned, tired expression on his face.

“Should’ve known you were only referring to yourself when you said you wanted ‘us’ to have fun,” Hongjoong deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he sighed heavily.

Wooyoung scoffed, playfully swatting at Hongjoong’s hand that gripped the handle of the cart. “Pushing a shopping cart can be fun too! You just don’t know how to do it right. Now push faster!”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement evident as he approached them. “Should I be surprised?”

“Yes!” Wooyoung replied instantly, grinning.

“No,” Hongjoong said at the same time, his tone flat.

“What took you so long, anyway? You said you were just going to grab a few snacks before we head to the counter,” Hongjoong asked, his movements with the cart becoming more mindless as he pushed and pulled it back and forth.

“That I was, but I came across her,” Seonghwa said with a shrug. He figured there was no need to specify who he was talking about, as Hongjoong’s eyes widened in recognition.

“The girl from Rue de la Paix?” Hongjoong inquired, just to make sure.

From his seat in the cart, Wooyoung interjected. “For how much longer are you gonna refer to her as the girl from Rue de la Paix? Aren’t you planning on, like, getting her name or something, at least?”

“Not when Seonghwa keeps forgetting to do that,” Hongjoong answered, gesturing toward Seonghwa, who now sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I overheard you saying you got a call from her recently. You have her number, right? You could just ask for her name through a text message. Not unless you want to keep referring to her using such a long nickname,” Wooyoung suggested, shrugging.

Seonghwa nodded, considering the idea. “Yeah, I’ll think about that.”

Hongjoong shifted the conversation back. “So, what was she doing here?”

“She was helping her landlord with grocery shopping,” was what Seonghwa responded.

“Does she live around here?” Hongjoong asked, his curiosity piqued and his hands no longer pushing the cart he held back and forth.

“No, she said her apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” Seonghwa explained. “She was just being helpful.”

Wooyoung, still in the cart, dramatically sighed. “Ah, the noble deeds of the common folk.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Wooyoung’s head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous but lovable,” Wooyoung retorted, grinning widely. “Come on, admit it. You missed having me around.”

Hongjoong groaned. “No, I didn’t,” yes, he did.

Seonghwa chuckled, joining in. “Alright, enough of this. Let’s finish up and get going. Wooyoung, get out of the cart before we get kicked out of here.”

Wooyoung pouted but complied, hopping out of the cart with exaggerated movements. “Fine, but only because I’m hungry.”

After what felt like nearly half an hour of waiting by the side of the streets, a bus finally came into view, and thankfully, nearly all of its seats were vacant. You took the bag of groceries from Madame Dupont’s grasp, motioning for her to get in first. Once you both settled on one of the seats by the middle, you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head on the window. Today didn’t go exactly as you planned, but the point of unwinding and getting a breath of fresh air was accomplished anyway, wasn’t it?

“So, about the young man from the grocery store,” Madame Dupont started, making you sit up straight and turn your head to her. “How do you two know each other?”

You then purse your lips in excitement over finally getting to tell Madame Dupont about the casting. “Remember when I asked you for directions to Rue de la Paix for my job search?” you asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation first. Once you received it, you continued speaking. “That’s where I met him. His name is Seonghwa, and he works under an agency of fashion and modeling.”

“That sounds interesting,” Madame Dupont mused, almost to herself. “How did you two meet each other?”

“I wouldn’t say meet,” you said sheepishly, remembering how Seonghwa was quite literally running in full speed towards you. “But he’s seen me before, and said he wanted to approach me back then but couldn’t. The reason he wanted to approach me was, well…”

“Well?” Madame Dupont tilted her head, intrigued. “Don’t leave me hanging, dear,” she joked, making you laugh.

“I may or may not have been casted to become a model.”

There were a few seconds of silence between both of you, and you figured it’s safe to assume Madame Dupont wasn’t speaking because she was trying to process your words. Suddenly, you’re caught by surprise when a wide smile spreads across her face as she gently grabs a hand of yours using both of hers and shakes it in excitement.

“That’s wonderful, dear! Especially since you’ve been doing nothing but search for jobs the moment you stepped foot here,” she beamed, and for a moment, you nearly believed she was more excited for the opportunity than you were. “I’m a hundred percent certain you’ll do very well and get accepted.”

“I wish I could say the same thing, Madame.” You chuckled. “I’m still really nervous, and the casting’s happening on Friday this week.”

“Friday?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and all you could do was nod. “Well, that is very close, indeed. Have you been going through preparations?”

“I have,” you said, smiling. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, though.” You didn’t want to blame yourself for feeling like this, as for a person who’s always been accustomed to staying behind the shadows, suddenly stepping into a career where the main point is to let yourself be seen is indeed a terrifying experience.

“That’s normal. It’s a huge shift, after all,” her voice took on a soft tone, attempting to ease your nerves. “Do you have anything to wear for the casting yet?”

“Oh, about that…” you trailed off, your mind going back in time to recall the photos you took of the designs from the sketchbook. “There’s a few designs I want to base my attire on, but I haven’t gone off on a kickstart about it yet. Preparations have been mostly about my confidence and less about my appearance.”

Madame Dupont smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Is that so? Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with that, dear,” she offered.

You felt a bit hesitant. “I’d appreciate that, Madame Dupont. But I don’t wanna take up too much of your time and bother you.”

She waved your concerns off. “Oh, dear, you’ll never be a bother to me. You helped me out today, and I think it’s only right for me to return the favor.”

“Alright, but, how?” You tilted your head, confused about where she was heading to.

Madame Dupont let out a hum, eyes darting all around the bus as she pondered over what to say before fully turning her gaze back to you. “Do you know why I never get bored even when I rarely go outside unless it’s necessary?”

You shook your head. “No, why?”

“Sewing, knitting, and crocheting are some of the things that keep me company,” she explained. Seeing your puzzled expression, she added, “And I’m bringing that up because I was thinking I can return the favor by sewing your outfit for you.”

You hesitated. “Oh, but... I don’t want to turn your hobby into an obligation.” Sure, it seemed like it would be of a huge amount of help to you, but was it really right to accept it?

Seeing your hesitance, she insisted, “I would love to help you. Besides, it’s no trouble at all.” Just as you were about to politely decline, the bus stopped in front of your apartment, and Madame Dupont used it as an opportunity to wave off any further protests. “You have no other choice but to accept my help,” she said firmly.

Eventually, you gave up, letting her have her way. “Alright, Madame Dupont.” You took the groceries and let her get off the bus first, following soon after. As you both walked towards the apartment, you turned to her, “Would you like me to help with unpacking your groceries?”

“No, dear, you’ve done enough for me today,” she said kindly. “You should go get some rest—but not before you send me the image of the attire you want to use as inspiration.”

Nodding, you promised to send the photos once you got back to your apartment. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ll come up with.”

Back in your apartment, you lay down on your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You took out your phone and scrolled back and forth through the pictures of the designs from the sketchbook, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Each design had its own charm, but one particular outfit kept catching your eye. It was the off-shoulder dress with delicate lace detailing that had given you a headache the first time you saw it, but now that you were more... used to the sight of it, it seemed perfect. After some deliberation, you decided that this was the one. You sent the image to Madame Dupont’s contact number with a short message.

This is the one I’d like to use as inspiration. Thank you so much for your help!

As you put your phone down, you muttered to yourself, “Now that that’s out of the way, I should probably go clean up before I head to bed.” You stood up, stretching your arms above your head, and made your way to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to wash away the fatigue of the day, and as you stood under the stream, you felt a sense of relief and anticipation for what was to come.

Meanwhile, at the park, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were seated in one of the grassy areas, enjoying the peaceful evening. The sun had returned to its peaceful slumber long ago, and the park was illuminated by soft, ambient lights, creating a serene atmosphere. “So, any updates on your missing sketchbook?” Wooyoung asked, before popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. “The universe might as well tell me to quit my career at this point.”

Seonghwa shook his head, refusing to encourage Hongjoong’s behavior. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a pessimist. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his frustration evident. “Seonghwa, take a moment to reflect on the circumstances we’re currently under. How can I not be pessimistic? My entire collection for the autumn fashion week is in that sketchbook, along with years of work.”

Seonghwa nodded, understanding Hongjoong’s point but still trying to lift his spirits. “I get what you’re feeling, but moping around won’t do anything. We need to stay proactive.”

Wooyoung, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Why’s the sketchbook so important to you anyway? I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid question since it, like you said, has all the designs you’ve made since college and the sketches for the autumn fashion week, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not the only reason. What’s the real deal?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. “You’re thinking way too deeply into it,” he deflected, looking away.

Wooyoung shrugged, sensing Hongjoong’s reluctance to delve deeper. “Well, whatever.”

🪞 — lividstar.

[starwarsmum]

Day 9 of Daminette December and we're carrying on with the Discovering the Paris Issue story. Today's prompt is "You Call That Art?"

Part 1 Part 2

@maribat-calendar-events

“Excited for your first fashion show?” Adrien asked, holding still as Marinette pinned the suit jacket in place.

“I mean, it's not really a fashion show,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “It's just the exhibit for the senior art students that they do every year. It's not like we're going to have anyone super important in attendance.”

“Mari, I will be there, how can you say I'm not important?” Adrien gasped, putting on a wounded voice. She jabbed another pin into the fabric, making sure to point it just slightly into his arm. “Ow, Jesus, that was uncalled for.”

“It was totally called for,” she retorted, leaning back as she checked that the outfit hung correctly. Happy with the fit, she motioned for him to take it off and packed up the pincushion.

“No, it wasn't,” he insisted, pouting. “Don't tell me you're still in a bad mood over the whole Damian thing.”

“Of course I'm not,” she shrilled, shoving him rather more forcefully than she normally would. “Why would I still care about that? It's not like I'm worried that he worked out my secret identity and that he's planning to come and try to take the Miraculous away from me, and that's why he was so insistent that I forgive him and try again, or that-”

“Okay, breathe please,” Adrien said, grabbing her up in a tight hug. “I think if he'd been planning to take over the world with the Miraculous and he'd worked you out, we would have seen him again by now. He was wealthy, so it's not like a little trip across the world would deter him.”

“You're right, I know you're right. I guess I'm just nervous about the exhibit and it's making me catastrophise a little,” she muttered, fiddling with an earring as she gazed at her sketchbook. She was only three days away from the exhibit and she had yet to meet one of her models, because the woman had volunteered and been accepted before admitting that she had other commitments until the day before.

She had been sent the measurements and worked as hard as she could to get them precise, but she knew there would be minor adjustments at least when the woman finally arrived. She hadn't told Adrien about the other model yet because she didn't want him to talk her out of using Kor’i. But as a safety she had made an identical set of clothes to fit Chloé, who was her back up model.

“Okay, this suit is the last thing to stitch, final fittings the day before the event,” she said, smiling nervously. “When this is all over, I'm going into a coma for a week.”

_ _ _

On the day before the exhibit Marinette was pacing nervously in the theatre. Kor'i had arrived punctually and she was gorgeous. A little taller than Adrien, muscular, and with striking looks that she humbly put down to her Tamaranean heritage. 

At first sight, Marinette was fairly certain the clothes she had made would be mostly on target, but she was relieved she had left a little extra room to accommodate any last minute changes. Because those arms? Marinette could have died of envy. And blushing. 

“Marinette, these clothes are fantastic,” Kor'i cooed as she stepped out of the changing room. 

“Hmm.” Marinette eyed the woman critically, mentally making note of where the fit wasn't quite tight enough. A couple of quick pins and she was satisfied. “Okay great, while I make a note of the changes on this one go change into the next, please.”

It took practically no time at all to get through the other nine outfits, and Marinette was confident that she would have the changes finished in plenty of time to get at least four hours of sleep. 

She also really liked Kor’i. The woman asked intelligent questions about the designs and had a sunny disposition that reminded Marinette of Adrien. Speaking of which…

“I'm so sorry I'm late!” The boy shouted as he flew into the room. He immediately latched onto Marinette, groveling into her hair as he gave his excuses. She rolled her eyes and assured him it was fine, she had managed to finish the other model's fitting and he was just in time to start his own.

He looked over to Kor’i at that point and screeched out loud. After that he was gibbering and pointing too much for her to work out what his problem was. Finally he managed to calm down enough to explain himself, sort of.

“Ohmygodyou’reKor’iAnders!” He shrieked, tripping over himself to throw his arms around her. The woman smiled broadly and accepted his embrace with incredible grace considering he was technically a full grown adult.

“Adrien, what the heck are you doing?”

“Marinette, I cannot believe you got Kor’i Anders to come and do your show,” he said, turning to her with betrayal written clearly on his face. At her nonplussed look he gave an exaggeratedly exasperated sigh. “Maribug, M'lady, you are a fashion designer, how do you not know one of the most famous international models?”

“Adrien, I didn't know you on sight and there were literal billboards with your face on them all over Paris,” Marinette said uncomfortably. “Can you please go put on your first outfit so I can check the fit?”

“I apologise, I didn't realise that you were unaware of my career history when you accepted me as a volunteer,” Kor'i offered after a moment’s silence. 

“No, there's nothing to apologise for, I should have recognised you,” she replied sheepishly. “I tend to focus on the clothes more than the models, and it didn't occur to me that you would have that kind of experience. I just thought you were a crazily gorgeous woman who wanted to make a start in the world of fashion.”

“Well you are much more proficient at making clothes than I thought you would be when I volunteered,” Kor'i admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable. “But now we are both more aware of each other so it's fine, correct?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Marinette laughed. They were interrupted by Adrien stepping out in the first outfit. Immediately she fluttered around him, eyeing each part critically and nodding happily at the result. “How does it feel? Not too tight? And nowhere feels too baggy?”

“Bugaboo, it's perfect, as always,” Adrien assured her, striking a silly pose as she giggled. He saluted and went back to try on a different one.

“You two are very close, is he your boyfriend?” Kor'i asked, head tilted slightly. Marinette snorted and shook her head.

“Uh, no, he's more like an annoying older brother,” she said after a moment. Adrien gave an affronted noise as he turned slowly for Marinette's appraisal. “Oh, like you don't work to be the most annoying person in the room at any given time.”

“Well, will your boyfriend - or girlfriend - be at the show tomorrow? I would like to meet the one chosen by the most talented designer I have ever met,” Kor'i said innocently. 

“Given that any significant other I have is imaginary, I can introduce you right now,” Marinette grumped. Kor'i looked puzzled so she sighed and made a vague gesture with one hand. “I don't exactly inspire people to date me. And the last guy to show an interest turned out to be more interested in what I know than anything romantic.”

“Aw, don't be hard on yourself, Mari,” Adrien said as he stepped back out. “He could've been interested in more than one thing. And he did try to apologise, right?”

“After two days! And actions speak way louder than words and everything before that made it very obvious. Now go try on the next one, please.”

“It sounds as though you've been through a trying time,” Kor'i said when Adrien stepped away again. “But if he was sincere, how could he prove it to you?”

“It's irrelevant anyway, he lives in a different country and has hopefully forgotten all about me by now,” Marinette said, a note of finality in her voice. It still hurt to think about Damian and she was sure it showed.

“I would be very surprised if this boy was not interested in you. You are a talented, beautiful young lady, I am sure that even a blind man would be interested.”

“That's what I'm always telling her! And Damian looked pretty sorry when he came to apologise before we left,” Adrien said, stepping out in the last outfit. Marinette harrumphed and ignored him in favour of checking the fit.

“Adrien, we've been over this. It's a moot point and I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'll be right back, okay? Just hang the outfit back up and then we can all go get lunch if you want.”

Adrien watched as Marinette left the room, her back straight and shoulders tense. She hadn't been the same since Gotham, always on edge and sad. He came out of the changing room to find that she still wasn't back and he sighed.

“I didn't mean to upset her,” Kor'i said worriedly. “I did not realise she was so affected by what had happened.”

“She's a pretty anxious person in general, this guy just happened to touch a sore point for her. There's a couple of other reasons, she thinks she's protecting something which I can't really fault her for. And she has this totally dumb idea that guys don't see her like that.”

“I wonder where she got that idea, mister ‘very good friend’.”

“Chloé,” Adrien whined, turning to his other best friend as she entered. “I was fifteen and stupid, okay?”

“Yeah, at least you're not fifteen anymore,” she grinned. “You must be the model Marinette booked. I'm Chloé Bourgeois, Marinette's other close friend and the woman who would have done the show if you hadn't shown.”

“We are very different sizes,” Kor'i said, blinking in surprise. “She must have been very confident that I would show.”

“Oh, no, she just made two sets,” Chloé said casually. “I'm going to bully her into giving me one of the outfits she made because it is literally the best thing I have ever worn.”

“You don't have to bully me into it Chlo, I was planning on giving it to you anyway,” came Marinette's amused voice. She looked a lot calmer, though there was a redness to her eyes that told Adrien that she had definitely been crying. “Ready for lunch?”

_ _ _

On the morning of the exhibit, things were running on a tight schedule. She was due to be the last showing of the day, due to the nature of her work, and she was nervous. She had invited Jagged and Penny, as well as Luka and Kagami and Kor'i had asked if her family could attend. 

Marinette's luck had been running high for several days and she was worried that it was going to lead to a string of luck so bad that her designing career would be over before it began. Adrien had to talk her down from several spirals as she walked through the other, more traditional, art exhibits.

“Oh, Marinette,” came a falsely sweet voice, and she had to push her temper down as she turned to face Lila. “Don't you just adore all of these art pieces? It's such a shame that yours has to be done on its own, since it's so different to everyone else's. And don't listen to anyone who says that it can't be called art, even if they have a point.”

“Wow Lila, and did you submit your work for the exhibit? Oh, wait, I must be forgetting some illness, or injury that prevented you from finishing what must have been a true masterpiece,” she retorted with fake concern dripping from her words.

“Sorry to intrude, but may I speak with you before the show, Marinette?” Kor'i interrupted, flashing a dazzling smile at Lila before pulling Marinette away. “I know we are due to start in twenty-five minutes, but I feel I must be honest with you before my family arrives.”

“Oh no, please tell me you're not dropping out,” Marinette groaned, rubbing her temples as she tried to figure out how to get Chloé dressed and on the stage in less than half an hour. Maybe if she switched a few things around…

“No, no, I wish to continue in the show,” the Tamaranean reassured her quickly. She looked guilty, however and that made Marinette nervous. “You have been wonderfully kind to me since I arrived, Marinette, and I have not been fully honest with you. 

“I mostly asked to model for you because my daughter wanted to see you again. She was fairly distressed that she upset you and I thought that, as you have met both my husband and her, I was best placed to help bridge the gap.”

“I don't-”

“I am Mar'i’s mother,” Kor'i said softly, wincing when Marinette blanched. “Dick is my husband and Damian is my brother-in-law. I understand if you do not wish to see them, I did not realise you were so affected by your disagreement, nor that you felt so betrayed by Damian's behaviour.”

“I- I don't have time for any of this,” Marinette wailed, fingers spreading into her hair. She came to a decision fairly quickly, but she was not a happy bug. “Okay, okay, I can do this. If you're still willing to do the catwalk then we can work with that. Everything else can wait until it's over.”

When Kor'i gave her a relieved smile Marinette felt like screaming. Forget bad luck, this was a catastrophe. She sent Chloé a quick message, begging her not to be late to the show, and put on her game face. She could get through this evening and then she could vanish into the anonymity of being the mysterious designer for Jagged Stone for the rest of her natural life.

The show went spectacularly and she relaxed when she saw Chloé in the audience. Adrien did a double take when he spotted her as well, but managed to play it off as part of one of his walks.

Already planning to ditch the afterparty as soon as humanly possible, Marinette resolved to show her face to Jagged and Penny before faking a stomach problem. Armed with this resolve she stepped out of the back area and made a beeline for the eccentric musician.

“Lil M! That was a totally rocking show, can I order one of those dresses for Penny?” Jagged shouted as she closed in. He was standing with a dark haired man with a solid build and a bright smile that didn't fully reach his eyes. 

“Sure thing, Jagged,” she said, reaching up to give him une bise as a greeting. “Where is Pen? I was hoping to catch her before-”

“Oh, she's off making a phone call, you know how she is with work. You're lucky she stopped working for long enough to watch the show. But forget that, let me introduce you to my old mate, Bruce! Brucie, this is Marinette, my own personal designer and an absolutely hardcore little rocker.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Marinette. I've heard great things about you, and your show was spectacular,” Bruce said, a more genuine smile on his face as he took her hand in greeting. 

“Oh, um, thank you!” Marinette glanced around to see if she could spot Penny, who would not forgive her if she snuck away without saying hello. “Jagged, I'm not feeling-”

She was going to say ‘I’m not feeling well’, but was cut off when a small ball of energy leapt onto her. Only years of training and battle stopped her from falling as she absorbed the impact by stepping back. She blinked as she was confronted by dark curly hair and a pair of vivid green eyes.

“Marinette! I missed you soooo much! Will you dance with me? And play with me? I have more pictures to show you, of Alfred the Cat, and Batcow, and-”

“Mar'i, you can't just jump on people,” Bruce said with gentle exasperation. “I'm so sorry for my granddaughter, she's very excitable and has been excited for this event for weeks.”

“I- that means that you're-” Marinette couldn't find the words, but a cold feeling was centered in her chest. She looked around wildly, feeling cornered. It didn't take long for her to spot Dick dragging someone along, and as much as she hated it her heart gave a squeeze.

Damian was dressed in a black blazer over a green shirt and blue jeans. His hair was more tousled than she had ever seen it before and it made her stomach flutter. He looked just as angry and brooding as she remembered as he argued with his brother.

“I- excuse me,” she squeaked, before fleeing towards the last place she had seen Chloé and Adrien. She had to get out of here before she was trapped.

“You're squishing me,” Mar'i said, almost causing Marinette to drop her. She'd forgotten she was holding her and cursed her inattention. If she had remembered, she could have handed her off to Bruce before running, but now she needed to find one of her adults so that she could leave for good.

Muttering apologies, she glanced around the room and almost collapsed with relief when she saw Kor'i stepping out of the back, dressed in her own clothes. Immediately she darted towards the woman.

“I see Mar’i found you!” Kor'i beamed, placing a hand on her heart. “Oh, you look wonderful together! I hope you have been behaving, my little bumgorf.”

“Mama, Marinette was running with me, it was so much fun! And look, she's not even out of breath, so that means she would be able to play properly, right?”

And what did that mean? Marinette was glad they were in a corner of the room, mostly hidden from the crowd enjoying the party. Kor'i was laughing and assuring the child that she was sure Marinette would be able to play some games.

“Look, I'm sorry to do this but I have to go,” she blurted out, interrupting whatever Kor'i was saying. Panic was the only thing on her mind and she wanted to get somewhere safe now. She only realised she was hyperventilating when warm strong hands gripped her shoulders.

She whirled, instinctively trying to hit whoever had grabbed her but hampered by holding Mar'i. Whoever it was dodged her attempt and spoke in a low, soothing voice. She hadn't realised but tears had blurred her eyes completely, so she only realised it was Damian when they spilled over.

He instructed her to take deep breaths, breathing along with her until hers leveled out. As soon as she could gulp the breaths down properly, he stepped back, expertly extracting Mar’i from her grip as he did so. She looked up at him, confused and still hurt, but he was instructing Dick to fetch ‘one of her blond friends’.

She couldn't stop staring at him, even as Chloé appeared to whisk her out of the way. She hesitated, her heart aching and her mind bursting with questions, but ultimately allowed Chloé to pull her away.

Part 4

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing 4-11 August 2024

Here’s the roundup for August 4th - August 11th, 2024!

Remember to give your content creators some love! Be sure to join in on the events at the bottom! And remember to send in any new works you see or make this next week!

~Mod Hel A bit late, sorry. Was super busy Sat & Sun.

Arts/Crafts/Photo Manips:

@puellamagimichaelmann

https://www.tumblr.com/puellamagimichaelmann/757844806380765184/hurry-up-and-start-a-war

Dorothy Catalonia, fanart

Photosets/Gifsets/Screenshots/Manga Pages:

@sailorfutaba

https://www.tumblr.com/sailorfutaba/758427362003222528/welp-i-think-i-found-my-favourite

Quatre Raberba Winner, screenshots

@seaofolives

https://www.tumblr.com/seaofolives/757686072934285312/you-saved-my-soul-trowa-i%CA%BCm-coming

Quatre/Trowa, gifset

https://www.tumblr.com/seaofolives/757670917927223296/you-and-i-shouldn%CA%BCt-be-fighting-i-just

Quatre/Trowa, gifset

https://www.tumblr.com/seaofolives/758402225774247936/die-a-hero-or-live-long-enough-to-become-memes

Trowa/Quatre, gifset

Fandom Discourse:

@seaofolives

https://www.tumblr.com/seaofolives/758245033661087744/so-this-is-a-really-random-poll-and-my-first-one

A poll for 3x4x3ers! To event or not to event?

Calendar Events:

Gundam Wing AU Fest

https://www.tumblr.com/janaverse/755108738617245696/yay

All info about the event is in the post!

@gwcocktailfriday

Cocktail Fridays!

Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Here’s the prompts for Friday, August 16th: https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/758425882983645184/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-august

In need of prompts!

@thisweekingundamevents

Events Calendar https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/730188053636841472/updated-events-calendar

If you are hosting an event currently, or are planning on one, hit us up with links and dates! We’ll add them to the Calendar and reblog your notices to get the word out!

Needs to be updated...

Note that Sign-ups for the GW Holiday Gift Exchange will open on September 1st! Be on the lookout for it!

[hillbillyoracle]

Journal Hacking

I’m not sure if this will make sense to anyone else but I wanted to document something I’ve been trying lately with regards to planning/bujo/journaling type things. Even if only so I can go back and see what I did lol. 

So I have been bullet journaling in some form on and off since 2014. So it’s been a minute. And while I like it on the whole, it’s just not been working out for me lately. I tried a Hobonichi weeks mega and while I really like some aspects it’s just not enough room for me. My handwriting is not that small. 

I ran across a simplified GTD-like system called Ugmonk Analog and I liked the principles (even if I didn’t like the price tag) so I adapted it to my new journal. 

Ugmonk’s Analog system has three cards - Today, Next, and Someday. I’m just using notecards I have for this. I put the Today card on my cover with washi tape so I can see it without opening my notebook and easily write things down (my pen is in the loop to the side there). 

The Next and the Someday cards - along with some others are in the inside. I made the pocket by taping one of the notecards horizontally and taping the two outside sides. 

The long bit of text on the inside cover is the Heart Sutra. I like to write it on notebooks I’ll be using regularly so I pause and reflect on it more regularly. 

In addition to Next and Someday cards, I have a blank one for scratch paper and one with my ideal timelines for doing home and personal tasks. The personal side is lacking, I’m kind of in a state of transition on that so I’m unclear what I want to do regularly. The house stuff never happens all the way but I like knowing what I’d like to do when I’m adding tasks to my Today card. 

I think my favorite part of this system is the memory keeping part. It’s not super elegant or pretty but on the pack of each today card, I record any notable things about the day on the top (period, mood, fights, symptoms) with a hashtag, the weather, and then I fill the card with what I did that day. It’s been very helpful so far for jogging my memory throughout the week. I like that I can pull them out and see as many as I’d like throughout the week. I plan on digitizing them at the end of the year and keeping the last year as a hard copy. 

I keep the card in this little green box. Might decorate it soon. 

I don’t really feel like sharing my finished cards so hopefully this gives you an idea. I like that I can see what happened in a day and what I got done on one card. 

So yeah, I’m really liking it so far. I still do long form journaling (Morning Pages type things) in the notebook itself. I actually turn it so the short side is on the top and it’s kind of like writing on an A4 sheet of paper. I do that so I don’t start auto rereading old journal entries when I’m flipping through for other stuff. I index and thread anything that isn’t journal entries like I would a normal bullet journal. Right now I have some random notes for subject I’m studying, some pen and paper games I’m playing, and writing notes. 

I’m also going to add either an A6 monthly calendar or print my own calendar set up to add to the back pocket for scheduling things in advance. I know everyone uses Google Calendar but I never check mine much. So people can schedule things with me on my Google Cal but my source of truth will be the hard copy. 

Some resources I took inspiration from in setting all this up: 

- OG Bullet Journal - I’m surprised by how many people I’ve met who don’t know that bullet journaling isn’t just making your own pretty planner but an actual system (no shade to the art journaling folks, I’m just not one of them). When I say I use bullet journaling, this is what I’m using. Check for some of his more recent videos if you like it, he’s updated it. 

- Ugmonk Analog - slightly expanded to-do list system on paper; the product seems nice but they’ve actually been very supportive of people making their own knockoff versions for personal use which is cool to see

- Everbook - I think if I had more to juggle, I’d upgrade to something like this system. This guy has so many neat ideas sprinkled throughout the channel. He also really supports people making their own version. Love a good open source ethos. 

Anyways - hope this helps someone! 

[a-lovers-remorse]

Descent Day

(Aka, the Creator’s Birthday!)

To think that on this day, so many moons ago, Teyvat was blessed with the most unexpected surprise- the arrival of you, their beloved Creator! A most joyous day, and since their calender doesn’t quite line up the same as this world’s calendar, you decided to accept it as your new birthdate. Getting isekaied counts as being reborn, right? To avoid a multinational war of nuclear proportions, the birthday is a 2 week long celebration with you visiting every nation for 2 days. So how does each nation choose to celebrate their distinguished guest?

Mondstat

You didn’t think anything could weird you out after waking up in a videogame that you had adored for years, but waking up under the soft glow of stained glass to angelic singing from a choir sure made a lasting impression.

Noelle made you breakfast in bed and together with Klee guarded you through a walk from Mondstat, to the Dawn Winery and back, while preparations were underway for the party.

Mondstat’s celebration is hosted by the knight of favonius and held near the archon statue at the base of the cathedral. Gifts were left inside of the cathedral near your shrine, with tables of games set  up around the grounds. Bards take turns singing and leading dances near the archon statue, keeping the energy happy and light. The dawn winery and Cat’s share collaborated just for today to provide the drinks, the bartenders switching off on shifts so they could all enjoy the celebration as well. Each food vendor had their own stand around the edge of the venue and served food until nightfall when they could join the party, exhausted but ready to celebrate. 

Officially speaking, the knights-of favonius were keeping guard for unruly behavior. Truthfully, Rosaria, Diluc, and Kaeya were doing most of the outer city patrolling, with Lisa, Jean, Barbara and the nuns from the Church of Barbatos keeping things organized and under control. 

The gift table was overflowing with flowers- individual stems, to crowns and large bouquets. Windwheel asters were popular, but there were also large batches of other flowers that were commonly considered windblumes. Small boxes and bags, notes of well wishes filled with dandelion seeds also decorated the table.

Lisa, Jean and Noelle collaborated together for your gift, designing an entire outfit from scratch, with matching shoes and accessories.

A bottle of Diluc’s finest cider was expected, but the carved wooden falcon wine stopper was a lovely surprise. 

Kaeya’s gift to you was a moment of respite. The whirlwind of dancing and crowds, people endlessly chattering and touching or petting you was making you weary after a few hours. He snuck you away from the party for a walk along the city walls, content to simply walk alongside you in silence.

When you’re next free, Bennet, Razor, and Fischl come to take you on an adventure. Everyone is still busying recovering or cleaning from the night before, so you follow them out of the city. They don’t often have a chance to see you if you don’t seek them out, so they take the time to regale you with stories of their most recent travels. They gallantly protect you from any monster that dared wander too close, and before you could become tired from the walk, they show you the small waterfall they found. Fischl pulls out a picnic she had been hiding, and spend the next few hours playing in the lake until Barbara and Rosaria come to fetch you all.

Albedo comes down from Dragonspine only to seek you out, he doesn’t have much interest in staying for the afterparty. He gifts you a bottle with a flower inside. It’s petals shimmered and seemed to move, and he promised it would never die. He pretends to act surprise when you mention it’s your favorite color.

Mona calls on you in the early afternoon, welcoming you to her home for tea. She pulled a few favors with The Steambird, offering a few extra columns and exclusive advice, to get you a custom art piece with the alignment of the stars from the night of your descent. She’s nervous, and warns you that she will not make this a routine thing- but if you so wish, she will do her best to look into your future, even if it may be outside of her scope. 

On the morning of your departure, Venti woke you with a soft ballad, beckoning you to the window. He snuck you out of the cathedral and across the roof, guiding you with a steady hand that caught you every time you almost slipped off. 

Venti uses his wind to glide you two over to the archon statue, both of you taking a seat on the hands to watch the sun rise. The sky lightens, as you begin to warm in the glow of the sun, Venti sings a ballad he’s composed specially for you. 

“Happy birthday your Grace!” 

[spock-laan]

THE FIRST EVER SPOCKLAAN SHIP WEEK!!!

Spocklaan week will be held September 25-October 1st!!

We invite you all to join the party as we celebrate 7 days of Spocklaan goodness!! Please feel free to join us and other Spocklaan fans as we create fics, art, music, moodboards, etc. to share our love for La'an and Spock.

The days will have the following prompts:

Day 1: Connections

Show us your take on the connection between Spock and La'an either literal or metaphorical! What parallels do they have in canon (if you like, you can refer to @tinderbox210 list of parallels)? What personality traits do they share? How are they similar? What's up with the height difference? The possibilities are endless.

Day 2: Love Day

Love is in the air!! May it be in the form of Fluff or Smut...How do Spock and La'an show their love? Do they give gifts, spend time, or hole up in their quarters for a passionate evening?

Day 3: Theme Day

Time to celebrate!! Themes such as holidays, birthday themes, parties, R&R, Captain's dinner etc. How do Spock and La'an react here?

Day 4: Inspiration

What music, quotes, or other works inspire you to write about this pairing? Here is your time to do it! What inspires you about Spock and La'an or makes you think of Spock and La'an?

Day 5: What Happens Next...

We don't see every little interaction between Spock and La'an. What scenes are we missing between them, or what scenes are yet to come? (canon compliant)

Day 6: AU Day

Mirrorverse, Modern AU, Mafia AU, even Omegaverse! Let's see Spock and La'an in an AU of your choosing!

Day 7: Creators Choice

This day you can create and share anything Spocklaan related! You get carte blanche.

RULES:

No non-con, rape, bestiality, pedophilia, or any other content of the sort (dub-con is allowed and mentions of rape and non-con can be implied but not explicit)

Spocklaan must be the primary/main ship. Other ships can be mentioned (even if they include Spock or La'an) but the focus should be on Spock and La'an.

When posting, make sure to tag #spocklaanweek2023 to be reblogged and acknowledged

Get creative!! We have a lot of different types of creators from fanfiction writers to artists to composers. Don't feel limited by medium. Express yourself in whatever way works best!

On one final note, Spocklaan week is a month away. Please remember to mark your calendars with us as we are so excited and can't wait to see all your wonderful creations!

Spocklaan Week Graphics and Album Art by @tinderbox210

Spocklaan Theme by @salrevientad

[absentcaryatid]

Yeosang's Weekly Visit

An ATEEZ fanfic by AbsentCaryatid

Catering to the fixation of the niece under your temporary guardianship leads to making new friends, and the possibility of more with the one who caught your interest.

2.3K words, Content note: all ages, gender neutral reader, mention of military service, food

~

The routine had become a highlight of your week. Awake earlier than other days, you stood in the driveway clutching a cup of coffee as the little girl at your side bounced with excitement. She was the reason you were out of bed at this hour. Ever since her preschool had taken a field trip to the recycling center, she had been entranced by the vehicles. The first time you had offered to wake her in time to see the truck that serviced your street, she had eagerly accepted. Now the day was circled in green marker on the calendar, and surprisingly, it had become something you both looked forward to.

“I see Yeosang and San,” she squealed. Rumbling down the street, San waved from the driver's seat of the massive recycling truck as Yeosang jumped off the back to pick up batteries set out for collection next door. He was easy to spot in a vibrant orange jumpsuit with arms tied around the waist. Muscles flexed in the sleeveless shirt as his gloved hands wrangled the bins ensuring enough space between for the truck to pick them up.

Sometimes riding in the cab, other times arriving hanging off the back with toned arms on display, Yeosang had become the reason you were just as pleased as your niece to be out here. If not for her you would have continued to miss their pass down the street, woken by the clamor of the bins then back to sleep never knowing the people behind such an important job.

Even without your own benefit of watching the attractive man at work, accommodating the newly discovered special interest was worth it to see your niece so happy. It had been tough ever since she had been placed in your temporary care by your single parent brother. Seonghwa knew he could have been exempted from military service due to his circumstances, but reasoning the duration was short and the training helpful for the leadership skills he could put on a resume weighed in favor of going. When you had talked it over with him and volunteered to be the guardian for your beloved niece, his difficult decision was made far easier.

The past month since she arrived had been going as well as could be expected. You had previously babysat regularly for Seonghwa and the guest room was practically your niece's anyway as often as she had stayed over in the past. Now it was truly hers for the next year and a half. Crayon art on construction paper lined the walls and the recently installed shelves were already groaning under the weight of all her picture books and toys. Seonghwa managed to make weekly video calls, but there was nothing like a father's hugs and being together in everyday ways like breakfast or time playing at the park.

The new men in her life could hardly replace her father, but you were thrilled there was even one thing guaranteed to brighten her time with you. Pulling up to your bins, San called out, “Good morning,” and your names through the open passenger window. Yeosang's greeting was more subtle, a smile aimed at you both. As always, your heart leapt. You could not help but admire him and were completely smitten. How could you not be? Yeosang was strong, competent, and incredibly attractive. San was too, of course, but there was something extra special about the man with the birthmark resembling a flower below his temple.

Once it was clear waiting and watching was a pattern, on an earlier visit the pair had introduced themselves and gotten your names in return. As the weeks went on you apologized for holding up their work but San demurred, claiming the brief stop to talk was just the break they needed. You appreciated the way both Yeosang and San took your niece seriously and would answer her questions about their job. When they did not have an answer, such as the time she wanted to know the truck's weight and payload size, they returned the next time with the information.

A thoughtful child, one day your niece had picked out a floppy stuffed animal cat as a gift for San so he would not be lonely in the cab when Yeosang was working outside the truck. The present was appreciated and San christened the toy Byeol on the spot. From then on Byeol was always seen on the dashboard, often with a neck ribbon in colors that varied from week to week. When you mentioned it on another visit, San explained his own daughter liked to give him ribbons for Byeol which he dutifully tied on. “You know what is like being a parent. You want to indulge your child in everything.”

You nodded. “I feel exactly the same about my niece.”

At the word niece Yeosang had turned toward you with interest, blurting out, “I assumed you were her parent.”

“I don't even have a boyfriend,” you laughed, missing the smile San gave Yeosang as your orientation and single status was hinted at. “She's on loan. I am her guardian while her father Seonghwa is in the military.”

San smoothly took the opportunity to ask if your niece wanted to sit in the cab and see how the truck operated and she excitedly clambered up with assistance. Conveniently left alone with Yeosang, he asked for your permission to give your niece a gift he had picked up. Pleased to know he thought about your little household when apart, you agreed.

Dashing back to the cab, Yeosang plucked a toy from behind the seat and offered it to the child. It was a recycling truck playset complete with bins and matching the logo of the sanitary district. Your niece was ecstatic and immediately asked to be helped down, then got to work loading gravel and leaves into the bins and emptying them into the truck.

“Yeosang, San, that was incredibly kind of you both to buy her that. You knew how meaningful it would be.” In a bit of wishful thinking that panned out beyond your wildest dreams, you made an offer. “May I invite you to a homemade dinner sometime as thanks?”

Acting as wingman to the friend he had heard go on dreamily about you, San corrected that the present was from Yeosang alone. “Besides, my partner expects me home at night for family meals, but he is always free,” San added while gesturing to his workmate. “Yeosang lives the lonely life of a single man.”

“San!” Yeosang was mortified and hung his head, but San could see by the way you lit up it was welcome news. Food preferences were briefly discussed and a date set before the guys had to continue their rounds.

The evening of Yeosang coming to dinner was added to the calendar with stars drawn around the date and a substantial number of favorite stickers from your niece's collection. It felt like a celebrity would be visiting the way both of you anticipated the event, for completely different reasons, of course.

Too excited to wait, your niece passed the time making a thank you card for Yeosang. The drawing on the front was a pretty close approximation of their recycling truck, at least for what a four-year-old could manage. While her toy came close, she wanted all the details so had worked from a photo brought up online from the sanitary district's website. While looking for the picture you needed, you had encountered an article showcasing Yeosang receiving an award for exemplary service. Impressed with his hard work and dedication, it only made you fall for him all the more as you repeatedly watched the accompanying video where he expressed pride in the important work he did.

When the day finally arrived, your niece met Yeosang with a hug and showed off the orange jumpsuit you had recently found for her. He admired the outfit. “I didn't know I was having dinner with an astronaut tonight.” It was a reasonable enough assessment, in fact that is what the clothes were sold for, plus you had not gotten around to removing the patches on it yet.

Her correction was cheerful and informed him she was in fact dressed to work on his recycling truck. Unperturbed by Yeosang's misidentification, she skipped toward the dining room to get the thank you card from the place set for him.

Smiling as you led Yeosang down the hall, you confided, “She wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

He paused. “I'm sorry. As much as I enjoy my work, there is probably so much more your niece could be than a trash collector.”

“No, not at all.” With complete honesty you announced, “I'd be proud if she went into your line of work, Yeosang. Your necessary career makes the world a better place, and you bring us both a smile every week. I have been so grateful for her interest in your truck and the way you and San have made time for her. She doesn’t have much since my brother Seonghwa has been away, and she now has to make do with me at my small place.”

It was now his turn to reassure you. “She appears very content in your care. From what I see, you are an excellent guardian.” He then became somber. “And thank you for speaking so highly of my work. Not everyone is that generous.”

“It is all true. I have a lot of admiration for you.” You wisely stopped there. It was best he did not hear that the admiration included his looks and physique.

Yeosang glowed from the unexpected praise. You could tell he was not used to his job being spoken of with such respect. It was clear his good mood continued throughout dinner as he interacted with your niece, listening to all the things she wanted to talk about interspersed with a barrage of new recycling questions.

By the time the late dinner was consumed your niece was already beginning to yawn. Her plea to have Yeosang read her a bedtime story was cut short. “Our guest was here to eat as a thank you for your present, not to help with bedtime, sweetie.” Looking to Yeosang, you realized he had done a favor more for you than himself tonight with all the entertainment he had provided. It made you even fonder of the kind man.

“I don't mind at all, if you don't.” Yeosang's warm smile was a genuine one. On your approval, he asked if she wanted to get in her pajamas or brush teeth first. Being given the choice was magical and she complied without complaint. Yeosang must have caught your impressed look. “San taught me that one,” he admitted. “It always works on his kids when I watch them from time to time.”

When your niece was ready, you moved to her bedroom and sat on either side on the bed. Yeosang seemed pleased by the picture book choice. He too had grown up on Tana Hoban's Dig, Drill, Dump, Fill and eagerly discussed the construction site photographs in the wordless book. The book was overly familiar from regular readings so your eyes watched Yeosang instead. Again you were struck at how easily he talked with a child and that ability went straight to your heart. Little put you off a person faster than someone who was dismissive of children, but you had known of Yeosang's patience from the very first interactions at the curb.

When her eyes could stay open no longer, Yeosang prematurely closed the book while you tucked her under the covers then snuck out. With the bedroom door now closed, you could mention the last plan for the evening. “If you have time for dessert, there is an espresso cake and I can put on coffee.”

You had feared this evening had already been too long for Yeosang, but he was openly favorable to the offer. “It would be a pleasure to spend more time in your company. We have never really had the chance to get to know each other.” He joined you in the kitchen as the coffee brewed. While not intending to, talk lasted for hours because it came so easily. You learned about his family, and he yours, and there were plenty of anecdotes that led to shared laughter. It was easy to see you could fall hard for Yeosang if he was open to that.

Still not ready for the evening to end, you finally remembered the espresso cake. Much to your surprise and delight, Yeosang expressed continued interest. Taking dessert to the living room, you made space for the plates on the coffee table, brushing aside tiny scraps of paper and dried Play-Doh to be loaded in toy bins of the recycling truck nearby. Seated side-by-side on the couch, you tried to think of anything but how close your crush was. “It was so sweet of you to buy her that truck, she loves it like nothing else. And then all your attention tonight...you spoil her, Yeosang.”

His eyes looked distant, as if lost in thought. Reaching for your hand, he confessed, “If it is not too forward, I’d like to spoil you too, if you would let me.”

Swooning at the news, you rushed to reassure Yeosang his approach was welcome, sealing the deal with the first kiss of many. Dates followed, and soon the decision was happily made to consider yourselves a couple, much to matchmaker San's delight.

Your niece was also thrilled by the change which led to Yeosang over regularly. By the time Seonghwa had finished his duties and could resume life at home with his child, she was already calling your partner Uncle Yeosang. Not much later the title was made official as she fulfilled her role as flower girl for your wedding. Seonghwa stood by your side, wholly enthusiastic about his new brother-in-law. The other best man was San, who by now had become an honorary uncle. His kids were frequent playmates of your niece whenever she visited. You had a lot to thank both San and your niece for after those early mornings at the curb unexpectedly led to such a joyful life with Yeosang.

~

Yeosang Masterlist

General Masterlist

[hp-fruit-fest]

MOD NOTE:

That's a wrap on this year's fruit fest! I'll keep an eye out for any latecomers and post the June wrap up sometime this week, and a fest wrap-up sometime next week (with luck!)

With that, I want to say a giant thank you to everyone involved. Everyone who read the fics and viewed the art. Everyone who just showed up to appreciate the fruity goodness! What sort of event would we be without those we share our works with? 🤟

Thank you to everyone who shared, reblogged, liked, kudosed, commented, etcetera. I know it means so much to the creators to see the love their works get!! 🫶

Thank you to all the people who supported our creators by offering to alpha, beta, or cheer read. And those who were helpful and supportive on the Discord server. Where would we be without folks like you?? You are so important to our community and you're so appreciated! 🙌

Thank you to all the creators who made this fest happen! Just a few short months ago I was but a gal with a dream: a dream for more HP Fruit content! It felt a bit niche and a bit random and a bit weird, but I was hungry motivated! We don't see what we want in the world if we don't at least try to make it happen. I really didn't expect much so having 40+ works in the collection blows my mind a bit!!!! You all really helped make my dream come true!! I've so enjoyed seeing the great variety of fruits and ships and stories shared. 💛

Most of all, I just appreciate everyone who gave this a chance. This was only my second time running a fest. I know it was a bit different, but I hope the more relaxed environment worked for people! I know there were some hiccups along the way, especially since I was running this event solo. I've been learning as I go and I appreciate everyone's patience and kindness! I plan to be back next year for another Fruit Fest! Spring 2024, mark your calendars! It will, with luck, be much smoother now that I have a bit more experience under my belt! ☀️

All my love,

Danni

[ygobigbang-archive]

Changes to YGOBB for 2023

Hi everyone! 

As we see the start of 2023, we’re starting to tidy up and get things ready for another year of Big Bang! 

First of all, we have a few changes we’re implementing. 

1 - While we won’t be making it a rule that you MUST join the discord, we will only be contacting people via discord or email in 2023! 

It takes a lot of the mods time to chase people up across multiple platforms and we would rather put that energy into running things smoothly and running fun mini events for our participants! 

2 - While writers MUST have an AO3, artists haven’t had the same rule in place for BB. Going forward we’d like to change that. Artists must now have some form of social media to post the full version of their art on! 

This can be made and used just for Big Bang - it can even be AO3 as it can be used for art! But we would like for all participants to have some sort of social media for posting their own work.

3 - Something else we haven’t ever been strict on is checking in on time. While we ask participants to fill forms in within 24 hours - this is only something we take note of but haven’t necessarily acted on. 

Next year, the time to check in will be longer - 1 week - but unless we’ve been informed beforehand you’ll be late or have a reasonable reason afterwards - we will remove participants after 2 late check-ins. 

4 - Probably our biggest change this year is to do with rough drafts. We heard from some artists that they didn’t receive anything from their writer for most of the drawing period.

Rough drafts have been finished and handed in by this point and all it’s doing is giving your artist less time. Therefore, when handing in your rough draft - this will be handed over to the artist after the first checkpoint if they’ve been given nothing to work with.

5 - We’ve added a couple of new mods to the team so our twitter will be making a comeback this year! So please go ahead and follow us if you use twitter - https://twitter.com/ygobigbang 

(as we hope it doesn’t implode during the event!)

6 - A list of some smaller things we’ve changed:

Writers you MUST credit your artist! Failure to do so after a message to remind you will have you banned from next year's Big Bang. 

A google calendar for all the check-ins

Your fic should ONLY be entered for YGO Big Bang

Using AirTable to display fic summaries that can be claimed

Posting snippets of fic leading up to artist claims

Standardized file name template

Two new mods have joined us! 

[lovemesomesurveys]

[chasingghosts @ bzoink]

What can you smell right now?   I smell my coffee energy drink that I just took a sip of.

What was the last thing you bought online?   It’s been awhile since I’ve done any online shopping since I just haven’t been in a shopping mood. It’s not fun when you spend all day at home in bed to go shopping for new clothes or accessories. I want to be able to wear them out somewhere, ya know?

If you drink coffee, when was the last time you went a day without having one?   I drink coffee daily, which for the past several months I’ve just been having a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink. While I was in the hospital last year for 3 months I couldn’t eat or drink anything due to a breathing tube, later on trachea tube, so those definitely felt like the longest 3 months of my life.

Do you have any appointments coming up?   Not this month. 

Do you put appointments in your phone's calendar app to remember them?   Sometimes, but for the past several months my mom has just been writing them on the marker board calendar we have hung up in my room. She’s the one who typically keeps track of that stuff for me right now.

Will you be visiting anyone's house in the next week or so?   No. I won’t be going anywhere. 

Have you ever been to a petting zoo? What animals did you pet?   Yeah, as a kid. I remember there always be goats. 

What was the last movie you saw in theatres?   Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness last year. I didn’t know not long after I’d be admitted into the hospital. 

Do you know anyone who has done a PhD?   No. My brother recently decided to go back to school for his master’s and just got accepted into the program, which is amazing.

How many unread emails are in your inbox right now?   Omg, like well over 1,000. I used be on top of my emails and kept my inbox clean, but I got lazy with it for some reason. The notification used to bother me and help me stay on track; I don’t know what happened.

What four apps do you keep on the home bar on your iPhone? (Sorry, I'm not sure if Android has an equivalent!) Contacts, call, messages, emails.  

Have you ever used Tumblr? Do you still use it today?   Nope, what’s that?

Are you tired right now?   Very. One of the things about the edibles I found that seems to be helping my anxiety also makes me extremely tired. So, I’m napping more but whatever. What else am I doing?

What's your favourite day of the week and why?   I don’t have one.

How far away is the nearest major city?   A few hours.

Do you own an electric kettle?   Nope.

Are your eyebrows wispy or bushy?   Bushy.

Have you ever lost your wallet or purse? Did you have to replace a bunch of things?   No, thankfully. 

Where are you right now? Describe the room or place to me.   I’m in bed in my room. It’s a small room with a closet, dresser, tv, window, canvas art and posters hung up, marker boards, bulletin board, a side table, an office chair, and a shit ton of medical supplies. My room is small and cluttered and I hate it. 

Do you prefer big dogs or small dogs?   As someone in a wheelchair, I personally feel most comfortable around medium sized dogs.

Are you good at understanding heavy accents? Which accents would you say you're the best at understanding?   I admittedly have a hard time sometimes, it just really depends.

Have you ever played on a real life pinball machine, or just on the computer?   A real one, yeah. 

Do you have a lot of word documents or notes on your computer?   No.

What's your favourite Ben & Jerry's flavour?   I don’t really have a particular favorite. When I was younger I loved the Phish food one.

Have you ever been to a school reunion? How was it?   No, and I have no interest in going to one.

How many nights a week do you generally cook at home?   I personally don’t cook at all.

What colour are the street signs in your neighbourhood? Are they the same all over town or do they vary?   They’re green.

Do you have good grammar and punctuation skills?   I believe so.

Have you ever tried vegan chicken? Did you like it? No, and I gotta say... it doesn’t sound appealing to me.

[hongherbac]

[Shimamine] In My Eyes - Part 3

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Relationship: Minegishi Toshiki/Shimazaki Ryou Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dating Words: 438

Notes: The fic is completed. It's about 6k words long, and will be uploaded twice a week.

Summary: So he still remembered.

(The third of the nine short scenes from their sweet life and dates.)

←Prev | Next→

The first part

(The next part will be a longer chapter, featuring Hatori, Joseph, Serizawa and Reigen on the phone (and yes all at the same time!))

Part 3

　　It was late fall. Minegishi's gardens were tinted with reddish-brown autumn colors. Northern winds swept through, lifting and twirling fallen leaves in the air. The weather was clear, but the sunlight was hazy and soft, filling everywhere with the subdued scent of dried plants. The temperature dropped with each passing cold front. Not cold enough to turn on the heat, but cool enough to keep the chill at bay.

　　One day, Shimazaki returned home late. As usual, he teleported to the entrance and took off his shoes before walking into the living room in his socks. Minegishi was standing in front of the calendar with his coat on, scrutinizing it carefully. When he saw his boyfriend coming back, he suddenly said:

　　"I'm taking Thursday off. We'll go see the cherry blossoms."

　　Shimazaki was always quick to react, but he took an extra second longer than usual to realize it. As he took off his jacket, he said with a certain casualness, "I thought you hated flower viewing."

　　"But you want to."

　　"How did you know that, Detective?"

　　Minegishi shrugged, "I may not have extrasensory perception, but I have eyes."

　　"Oh, wow, that sounds like a discriminatory joke."

　　"My boyfriend is blind, so I have a free pass." Minegishi walked to the sofa, picked up a botanical illustrated book from the cushion, and sat down to start reading. Minegishi had been reading the same book for the past few weeks.

　　Shimazaki sat down next to his boyfriend. He had heard what people said about Minegishi's appearance: expressionless, cold, weird, intimidating. But none of that meant anything to him. He could feel Minegishi's aura, which was reserved, tranquil, and brimming with energy, just like a plant - still and motionless on the outside, but full of immense vitality within. When Minegishi was calm and happy, his aura would sparkle like starlight; when he was angry, it would bristle like a porcupine; when he was tired, it would be limp like a lazy cat.

　　And every time Shimazaki kissed him or caressed him, Minegishi's aura would flare and shimmer. Shimazaki thought it was cute. People often thought that Shimazaki was the clingy one, well……

　　Shimazaki leaned towards Minegishi, their knees touching gently. "I've never been to the cherry blossoms."

　　"Really?"

　　Minegishi looked up from his book, surprised.

　　"Your family never took you to……?"

　　"I guess they didn’t see the point." Shimazaki smiled, "Makes sense. Who would take a blind boy to see flowers? It's like taking me to an art museum. I'd rather be out there smoking and fooling around."

　　Minegishi pressed his lips together.

　　"Thursday, we'll go see the cherry blossoms."