#sentimental af right here

[borbology]

YOU MEAN I INSPIRE PEOPLE? 🥺

I inspire people with my garbage account that I made on a whim to spout some hyperfixations doodles that I put comparatively little effort into?  🥺

This makes me so happy. I have a franchise where most of my attention goes into, the one I grew up with, the one I am dedicated to -- and it isn't even Kirby. I've been writing an incredible AU for years and my dream is to make it into comics and post it. I have put so much thought and passion into my stories, it's what I am most proud of. I want to post my AU, then go onto make comics with original stories too, and even learn to animate for some of then. This is literally all I want in life. I can die happy if I manage to do just this. -- And that franchise which inspired that AU isn't even Kirby.

Something I've always hated but never been able to control is that I am a late bloomer. Autism, anxiety, surgery, has all set me back. But I have no excuse for putting off my personal projects other than I didn't feel ready. I always felt like I should already have my material up. It made me lose some confidence. There were times I felt like my whole dream was shattered. But I've gotten better and I'm putting more serious thought into planning how to release my art and stories for the world to see. I'm closer now than I've ever been -- and I started this blog just to feed an interest I gained no more than a year ago. But I'm also here the get my first experience with interacting with people online, and to post my art, and to get some of the experience I need for later on with the plan of one day just kind of disappearing from this Tumblr to move onto what I really want to do.

But this has all been such an enriching experience. I'm having so much more fun than I thought I would and am excited for working towards my dream in a way I haven't been before. I feel more confident. The hardest part of anything is starting, and it's taken me years of not knowing how to start to get to the point I'm at now where I tell myself I can do this, and I will do this.

I'm working on so many things behind the scenes and have so much content to my name that you have no idea of. You guys don't even know me at all. But hearing this post^ really has me smiling like an idiot. I know that some time from now when I'm working on my main interests and following the dream for my art that I've had since I was little, I'll look back to this blog and think about all of you guys. Someday in the future, near or far, after I've gone and left from here, I always planned to just leave it at that -- but once I feel like I've taken off with my main projects I want to come back here and reveal that this blog was mine, so I can reconnect with everything it brought to me to get me what I needed to really start. On that day I want to get my first Kirby game too :)

Sorry, I didn't mean for this to be so long -- but I also never meant for this dumb little account to matter. I never even really intended on explaining all this here but I want you to know what it meant to me when you said that even my most low effort content made you so happy. I'll remember it.

Happy New Year! 💖🎆🎇✨

Yo, today is a big day.

For me it's a bit of an emotional day but I try to hold onto the positive!

I want to mention some people that absolutely inspired my last months!

@cosmicocoffee you're such an amazing and inspiring person! Your OCs and art have really caught my eyes and they inspired me alot!

@quanblovk yo, I found an DametaGala shipper buddy! Your art also has been an inspiration for me! I'm glad I encountered you.

@startistdoodles your art often gives me ideas, and I love your OCs!

@borbology your art puts a smile to my face! I love your artstyle!

@kare-bear117 your art and OCs are very inspiring. I remember wolfwrathknight from my childhood and you remind me of him which brings me positivity and inspiration from out the past!

My stay on tumblr hasn't been too long but you guys definitely are special people to me!

(Sorry for the very random tags lol, I just felt like I should've pointed it out since yall are amazing.)

[yifftwiceplz]

damn i didnt even realize it was thanksgiving next week

[ivy-elle]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Part 1 ft. Scaramouche, Childe, Diluc, Xiao

Scaramouche

Jealousy?

Tsk. Please.

Don’t flatter yourself.

Do you really think someone like him would ever succumb to a pathetic sentiment such as “jealousy”?

If someone threatens to take what is his, that person simply ceases to exist.

There. Done.

Why would it ever bother him if you’ve found a new friend among his men?

He does not have time for such trivial matters.

He knows that person is not able to make you feel the way Scaramouche does. Not in the slightest.

What can they even offer you?

Time? Attention? A pathetic attempt at making you laugh?

Ridiculous

Just because Scaramouche hasn’t been able to be with you as much as he wanted to, doesn’t mean-

Now they’re pulling you into an embrace? The sheer audacity to do this with him in the room.

Are they truly that desperate?

No, while Scaramouche trusts you not to be foolish enough to embarrass yourself in that way, he has pride and a reputation to maintain.

And right now, his pride is flaming up.

He is seething.

He confronts them when they’re alone and makes things pretty clear.

Have they forgotten who he is?

“Oh, you really think you have a chance? How amusing. Know your place, or should I remind you of it again?.”

Childe

Oh, best believe this man here is protective af

Borderline possessive, even

Yet, he too, has enough faith in you not to taint the honour or your relationship in any way

So, he sometimes allows himself - for his own entertainment of course - to watch from afar as the guy puts his moves on you

Childe delights himself in the way you reject the guy’s antics in your own charming way

But when it becomes clear that the guy isn’t planning on backing off, Childe’s temper flares up, and he’d enrapture in the opportunity to put the dude in his place

Wouldn’t be above straight up making out with you then and there, just to prove his point

Would then proceed to look at the guy with a broad smile, an undeniable menace behind his eyes

“Hey there, comrade. 😄 Mind knocking it off a bit?”

Diluc

His jealousy is more often displayed as annoyance or irritation

But at the same time he maintains his stoic, yet dignified composure

Like during one of his shifts in Angel’s Share, if he notices someone flirting with you at the bar

He respects your independence, and recognises that you are capable of defending yourself and setting your own boundaries

However, that wouldn’t stop him from letting some passive-aggressiveness slip out

May it be if he places the ordered drink just a tad too loudly in front of the man, causing him to jump slightly

Or he might declare that their usual order is out of stock today, only to serve it to the next customer right in front of the man’s eyes

Yet, Diluc would keep a watchful eye on you, ready to intervene if you seemed uncomfortable or silently asking for his help

Xiao

With Xiao, jealousy takes shape in a less conventional manner

It’s neither hot, nor cold. It doesn’t burn, nor does it hurt

Not the way he wished it would at least

Rather when he spots you in merry company with a friend, a companion or a nice chat with a traveller from afar

He is greeted with a deep routed sense of guilt.

Not every time of course, but enough to cause a pit of self-hatred to add to his long list of faults in his character

Over the course of your time together, you have become quite attached to him, you loved him even

A concept he thought to have long forgotten

But your humans’ emotions are blinding you. Clearly. They have to.

While the world is out there, waiting for you to step out, calling your name

You choose to stay by his side

Instead of taking on the freedom he couldn’t gift you, you are now sitting next to him by the river

Your reflections watching him quietly with a smile

No amount of almond tofu you make, could fill the dull ache he feels in the back of his mind when you seem to be so blind to your opportunities, your chances, your life

Instead of staying in a cage he traps you in.

And yet, whenever you set out with your other companions you always return to him.

In the end, he will be the one keeping watch over your sleep in his bed, and you will be the one waiting for him at dusk

“This is no golden cage for me, Xiao. You are the one gifting me my wings.”

[genericpuff]

completely off topic but regarding something that i saw pop up in my FB feed and i need to rant about

please do not fall for this shit

nintendo is NOT anti-AI.

it's really easy for them to say they're not going to use generative AI to create their games, because this statement has nothing to do with the very real issues with AI art such as the blatant theft of artists' work, environmental impact, replacement of humans in the industry, and just flat out unethical shit that AI has been designed around

it has EVERYTHING to do with their intellectual property rights, which Nintendo is NOTORIOUS for protecting with an iron fist even at their own expense. and i'm not talking the usual sensible argument shit like "ofc Nintendo wants to protect their IP's, they're a business!" i'm talking about the fact that this is the same company that just recently did a major takedown of the vast majority of Nintendo-licensed games on Vimm's Lair which aren't even being sold legitimately anywhere anymore-

i have so many fucking bones to pick with the flaccid bootlicking anti-piracy arguments out there but basically it comes down to this:

Nintendo is not a small indie company. They are literally one of the biggest, richest, most powerful gaming companies on the planet, rivalling Disney in just how many major franchises they own and profit off of. Many of their games are cultural classics, not just through the sentimentality and nostalgia of our childhoods, but also for all the innovations they made through games like Super Mario Bros, Super Mario 64, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and many others that we, within the world of gaming, owe a lot to and should be able to access and play. It's not a matter of "wanting these games for free", it's a matter of wanting to be able to access these games, period, and Nintendo is deadset on making it as difficult as possible, even when it doesn't necessarily profit from them (need I remind you that many of the games that were taken down from Vimm's Lair are NOT available through their shitty, poorly-ported emulation subscription service - plus that subscription service can be altered and/or removed at any time, regardless of what you paid for, just like the Wii Virtual Console was, meaning you do not own any of the games you're paying to play on there.)

This isn't about being "cheap" or "not wanting to pay for games". This is about media preservation and the virtue of actually owning the things we pay for. If these games were resold at official outlets for reduced prices or made more accessible through e-shops that don't close down in between console generations or drip feed the odd legacy title every few months or release crappy ports on their outdated af tech for only a few months at a time for three times the price of their original value, people would gladly pay. It's the fact that people are having to put up with all of the hoops that Nintendo has put in place to prevent them from even handing them money to play their favorite titles that even drives them to piracy to begin with, and Nintendo will gladly shut those sites down to protect their IP even when it's an IP they're no longer profiting from and aren't making active efforts to sell.

Like, I would gladly hand over a reasonable amount of money (i.e. not the cost of a brand new triple A title in 2024 which is like $80-$100 here in Canada) for Diddy Kong Racing on the Switch, but ofc it's not on the fucking online play store and even if it was, I'd have to deal with paying an overpriced subscription fee for a port of the game that would undoubtedly run WORSE than it does on my PC, and that subscription service can be taken down at any time. But Nintendo wants me to not pirate the game that's not available on their shitty subscription service because... just don't do it, pretty please??

Nintendo is not anti-AI. They would gladly use AI in place of manual labor to scour the internet and dish out DMCA's to every emulation site, archived ROM hub, fan game, and artist alley creator if they could... oh wait, they already are.

Do not fall for the virtues of anti-AI when it comes to companies like Nintendo. They are not anti-AI. They're anti-ownership. They're anti-preservation.

[fenrisdefender]

Saw a very one-sided Sebastian take but not interested in the OP feeling targeted by my response so here’s my own post. These are just my opinions and thoughts, and I mean no ill will to anyone who likes the character or has their own perspective.

The way that Sebastian Vael talks to Fenris is racist af and weird (imo), he recommends turning in mages he considers friends to the Circle which is certain death and/or abuse for them (not even Fenris would do that), and people absolutely have every right to not like Sebastian without the implication that they didn’t pay attention to the game or aren’t smart enough to understand.

I tire of the fandom sentiment that the only reason you don’t like a character is because you misunderstand them.

I dislike Sebastian Vael because he diminishes the trauma of a former elf slave, tries to manipulate Fenris into religion by pressing on his most vulnerable metaphorical wounds, dismisses the DEATH of an elven child and racial trauma, does not respect his own mage friends (who frankly saved his life) enough to consider their freedom warranted, and literally can’t understand why Hawke - A PERSON WHO HAS LOST SO MANY THEY LOVE TO DEATH - won’t execute (murder) their former friend after a betrayal (Anders)…

…to the point that he tries to declare WAR on Kirkwall in the following game?? Hawke isn’t even in Kirkwall anymore at that point!

I don’t have any issues with people who like the guy. Like who you want to like; it’s fiction and liking a character has no effect on me.

But I tire of the idea that disliking a character someone else likes is due to lapse in judgment or discernment.

People are allowed to dislike characters. Especially given how allegorical the Chantry is to Western colonial Christianity/the Catholic Church.

[tea-stained-notes]

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader – One Last Summer

Y/N is many things: Daphne's best friend, gifted artist, new money, honorary Bridgerton – and hopelessly in love with Benedict. But when she finds herself suddenly engaged to a brutish army captain stationed in India, she is faced with the loss of everything she has grown to adore. With time running out, one last visit to Aubrey Hall will decide her fate.

Months ago I had a random phase of obsessing over Benedict Bridgerton (don't we all at some point) and dove head-first into this – then somehow took an eternity to finish it. It's angsty af, but don’t worry, there’s also plenty of Bridgerton shenanigans and tooth-rotting fluff because Benny is too adorable for this world

Warnings: angst and anxiety

Word Count: ~8400

A warm summer breeze caresses my heated skin as I finally emerge from the carriage and lay eyes on Aubrey Hall. Lush flowers and greenery adorn the inviting front and I am still taking in the sight when I notice Eloise and Penelope rounding the corner, the Bridgerton sister gesticulating in what must be one of her political rants. Behind them, Gregory and Hyacinth emerge, chasing each other and screaming in delight. My stomach swoops at the sight – how I have missed them all. “Good morning!” I call over to them, waving with an excitement I would scarcely allow myself to display anywhere else. But here, everything is different. Has always been different.

“Y/N!” They all rush over to me, enveloping me in hugs and chattering over each other. “Finally! It’s been ages!” “Daphne has been insufferable without you around!” “Come play with us!” I laugh, begging them for a moment to breathe after the journey. Daphne appears in the entryway, closely followed by Violet. I walk quickly towards my best friend, arms wide open. “Daph!” “Oh thank Goodness you have made it!” She hugs me tightly, her familiar perfume mingling with the smell of grass and sun-warmed skin. “Have you been playing croquet without me?” “Oh, has Anthony already come moaning to you about his well-deserved loss?” “I can smell it on you, along with your smugness” I say with a grin. “And your brother has grown quite even-tempered since the wedding.” “Well, unfortunately he is still the sorest loser I know.” “Which is a feat in itself amongst this competitive bunch,” Violet says with a twinkle in her eyes before taking my hands in hers and looking me up and down. “Welcome back, darling. You look thin, please do not tell me that you’re trying to fit into one of those outrageous wedding gowns that seem to be made for dolls.” I wince at the mention of my upcoming nuptials but hastily cover it up with a chuckle. “Quite the opposite, at the last fitting my seamstress was rather disgruntled that she would have to take in the waist even further. It is just a bit of a nervous stomach, with all the impending change.” “But as a young bride you should be more happy than nervous, no?” “Mama,” Daphne scolds softly, while Eloise openly rolls her eyes. “I suppose I should.” “Why not at least wait until dinner with such questions?” comes a voice from my right, “Your forwardness single-handedly erodes our renowned British reserve.” I grin at Colin before pulling him into a hug and ruffling his coiffed hair. Being a year older, I have always indulged in playing big sister with him. He sighs in feigned annoyance. “I was going to say that it’s good to see you but I am already regretting that sentiment.” “Liar,” I snicker. Violet’s glance dances between us. I believe she once suspected a blossoming romance between Colin and me, but while I love him dearly as a surrogate brother, he has never made my heart flutter. Not that I could have ever betrayed poor Penelope anyway, whose bright eyes are locked on him as always. And not that I would ever actually marry a Bridgerton. I may have dared to dream of it ten years ago, when I first met Daphne and immediately became fast friends with her despite our age difference. When her family welcomed me into their home with such fervour and warmth that I could hardly believe my luck. With my mother having died from influenza when I was little and no other siblings to grow up with, the Bridgertons became the family I could have never imagined for myself. And the idea of marrying into it one day, of making my bond with them all official, that was the greatest aspiration I could envisage. But the one brother who has always fascinated me is nowhere in sight and I try to be glad for it. “Come, let’s get you settled before the rest of the battalion descends upon you.” Daphne pulls me inside while I give a grateful smile to the servants hurrying after us with my luggage. “So where is your charming husband?” I ask as we ascend the staircase. “And little Amelia? I have been dying to see her again.” “Simon was held up by business, he will arrive in a few days. And the little one is in the gardens with her nanny. I will call for some lemonade and once you have freshened up, we shall go out to see her and catch up. You have so much to tell me.” “I last saw you two months ago and we write constantly,” I laugh. “But all the things that have happened in those two months! Your engagement first and foremost. I simply must know everything, I certainly require more detail than the few lines from your letters.” My insides squirm at her eagerness but I manage a somewhat enthusiastic nod. She comes to a stop in front of a door. “Your usual guest room is having some work done, so I had my old room prepared for you – I hope you don’t mind.” “Not at all, it will be nice, I haven’t been in there since your wedding.” “And Mama has kept it exactly the same, you know how sentimental she gets.” Daphne sounds teasing yet her smile is nothing but fond. She gives me another hug. “I am so glad you are here. I’ve missed you. We all have.” “And I have missed you.”

Once my bags and I are safely inside, I inhale deeply and take in the stillness for a moment. Arriving at any Bridgerton residence always feels like being caught in a whirlwind and as much as I love them all, it can be overwhelming at times, especially after the often stifling silence of my own home. I wander over to the window, letting my eyes trail over the gardens, alive with an abundance of colours that makes my heart sing. Until it stops abruptly. There he is. Deeply lost in his brush strokes as he recreates the wonders around him. His vest is unbuttoned, his shirt carelessly gaping open at the top, his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Even from afar, Benedict Bridgerton ignites a well-known fire inside of me. Whenever I am away from him, I can almost convince myself that this age-old infatuation is nothing but a figment, a silly flight of fancy. Sometimes I can almost forget about him entirely, distract myself with my artistic pursuits, with other friends or travel. But then I notice a piece of melody flowing from my fingers that somehow reminds me of him or look down at a drawing in surprise, having unconsciously once again traced his familiar features. Still I repress it, abandon the fantasy of someone so far above my station. Someone who sees me as a family friend and nothing more. And now that I am engaged to be married I should purge my mind of him entirely, yet especially in these last few weeks I have scarcely thought of anything else, convinced that my longing could not possibly grow stronger. But the mere tangibility of him unravels me completely. I long to rush downstairs to see him and at the same time it is the one thing I fear the most. After a long moment I tear my gaze away and turn to the washing bowl. To my dismay, the cool water does little to calm my racing pulse and thoughts. Clean and unpacked I head towards the door, but halt half-way. Because as always, when I am in Daphne's room, my eyes fall on the painting of us. It is wonderfully serene, the two of us sitting on a picnic blanket in the gardens. She is engrossed in a book, but I am looking over my shoulder, smiling softly at the artist. It was Benedict of course. I remember vividly how I turned around to find him crouching with a sketchbook in his hand, capturing the scene in quick strokes. His face lit up and he winked at me before deftly outlining my expression. Later he transferred the motif onto a proper canvas, so I never got to see the original sketch. I have always wondered whether I had really looked at him like that. So openly enamoured.

I wander down the halls towards the open French doors leading into the garden when a voice pulls me from my reverie so suddenly I almost trip over my feet. “There you are.” I look up only to be met with a dazzling smile, gleaming eyes and a hint of spicy aftershave in the air. My stomach drops. “Mr. Bridgerton.” His smile falters briefly. He always insists on me calling him by his first name, yet I have never been able to. When we met he was already eighteen, a grown man at first sight. It had felt only right to address him with the same courtesy as his older brother. And even as we grew closer, as I learned of his boyish temperament, often bordering on immaturity, I never found the courage to simply call him Benedict. If only to keep up the semblance of a wall between us, a desperate attempt at shielding my heart. Not that I have ever succeeded in that endeavour. “Everyone’s been speaking of your arrival. How wonderful you have found time to join us.” “The pleasure is all mine, as always,” I reply, ignoring the pull in my chest. “Have you finished your painting?” I gesture at the art supplies in his arms. “Not quite, but I’m afraid duty calls. Some business I need to talk over with Anthony.” “Ah, I too have an enormously urgent appointment with your sister.” We share a light chuckle. “I am sure she has scheduled three hours at the least to learn all about your… plans.” The word comes out strangely forced but he catches himself quickly. “Will I see you at dinner?” “How could I ever miss one of Mrs. Brodie’s delicacies? I have had actual dreams of her rosemary chicken.” “You are not a true Bridgerton until you’ve had one of those dreams,” he says with a grin but it wavers slightly as the words sink in. He knows as well as I do that no number of dreams will ever make me a true Bridgerton. I swallow thickly before putting on a smile. “If you will excuse me, I am quite parched after the journey and Daphne has promised lemonade.” “Oh, of course, yes. Don’t let me keep you.” “Goodbye, sir.” “Until tonight, Y/N.” Something in his tone, in the way his lips curve around my name, sends shivers down my spine. With a swift curtsey I turn and practically run out into the open air.

I manage to ward off Daphne’s inquisition well enough. Yes, Captain Parker will be able to provide for me. Yes, he is handsome. Yes, my father approves of him. Luckily, we are regularly interrupted by the various Bridgerton siblings and distracted by little Amelia who is perfectly content as the centre of attention. “I am quite certain one day she will be the diamond of the season,” I declare, ruffling her hair. “Do you really think so?” Daphne is all too happy to swoon about her firstborn and I gladly steer the conversation away from my upcoming wedding. Eventually, I propose another game of croquet, having missed the previous one, and before long the dinner bell is rung. Everyone settles into the dining room and I sink into a comfortable chair, Daphne and Eloise on either side, Benedict across from me. I only notice now that we have always been seated like this during my visits and wonder if it was I who once sought out this particular arrangement. He quickly engages me in a conversation about art and music, the topics that have always connected us, and minute by minute I grow more comfortable in his presence. We fall into passionate discussions and light-hearted banter, only occasionally intercepted by the others around us. And I cannot help pondering if he has ever felt it, too. The sparkling potential between us. The mere idea of what we could have been. No matter how unrealistic, as long we were both unwed, a tiny part of my heart remained reserved for that hope. And every time I arrived at the manor to find him seemingly carefree about the future and with no bride in sight, I was flooded with relief, simultaneously blessed and cursed to hope for a little longer. Until a few weeks ago when those dreams were finally shattered. “So, are you looking forward to India?” Colin suddenly asks. “I would love to visit you there sometime, it must be incredible.” “Surely it would not be proper to interrupt their honeymoon,” Benedict says, somewhat strained. “Oh, it’s not for our honeymoon,” I reply. “My… Captain Parker will be permanently stationed there.” Benedict’s fork clatters onto the plate and we all flinch, the chatter around the table coming to a halt. “You will move to India?” He has gone frighteningly pale. “Yes. Has Daphne not told you?” “I must have,” she sputters, “when I was last in Lon–“ “No, you haven’t.” His words come out unusually harsh and my stomach twists. Everyone is staring at either him or me and Daphne’s eyes flicker between us before she forces a casual smile. “Brother, don’t be silly, I am certain I have. And either way, I shall be the one to miss her the most, no?” She puts an arm around me while giving a pointed look at Kate who quickly collects herself and pulls Anthony and Violet into a chat about their plans for the nursery. Slowly, the usual bustle recommences and I turn back to Colin. “Once we are settled in, you are more than welcome to visit. You all are, of course.” Benedict’s lips are pressed tightly together, his food forgotten.

I find little sleep that night, the image of Benedict imprinted on my mind. He seemed so genuinely upset. I expected him to miss me, of course, but the hint of melancholy I had detected in his features even before the revelation of my upcoming departure to India now haunts me. Losing him was always going to be torture but realising how it might affect him as well has doubled the pain and I start to regret this indulgence of coming to Aubrey Hall for one last summer. When the first sun rays filter through the half-opened curtains I inhale deeply, trying to infuse a little hope and joy into the beginning of this new day. And when Daphne surprises me with the idea of a relaxed breakfast in bed I almost believe it has worked. A while later we find ourselves in the parlour, Eloise engrossed in a book after Penelope’s earlier departure, Daphne rocking a fussy Amelia to sleep in her arms, and I sketching absently. I startle when Benedict walks in, slightly more dishevelled than usual. “Daph, Y/N. Just the pair I’ve been looking for.” “Good morning to you as well, dear brother,” Eloise says with a smirk. He bows excessively in her direction and I cannot help but smile at their antics. “Good morning, my darling sister.” They share a grin before he turns back to us. “I wanted to apologise for my little outburst at dinner. I was tired and the news took me by surprise.” He clears his throat. “I do hope you forgive me.” “Of course, sir,” I hasten to reply. “One could have almost suspected you of being jealous of a certain Captain Parker.” “Eloise!” Daphne chides but she too eyes her brother and me curiously. Before I can try to decipher either my feelings or his expression, Violet walks in, rubbing her hands enthusiastically. “Good morning, children! Who of you will kindly join us for a walk?” Daphne rises as Amelia starts crying once more and Violet immediately offers to take her. While they deliberate on the benefits of a walk for the baby, Benedict settles beside me, merely a few feet between us. I try to ignore the goosebumps forming on my skin at his soft smile. “May I?” He points at my sketchbook. I press it shut with hurried force. “No.” “Oh.” His face falls a little. “Forgive me, I did not mean to pry.” There is dejection in his eyes, but also confusion. I have always shared my sketches with him, just as my compositions, needlework and poetry. We have always valued each other’s opinions and advice. So naturally he is taken aback by my sudden reservedness. But how can I explain the shift from peaceful, colourful motifs to the utter gloom that has been dominating my sketches lately? The impending thunderstorms, the dark forests. And possibly worse, the countless drawings of him. Sometimes just his fingers, delicately holding a paintbrush, sometimes his entire silhouette, but mostly his boyishly handsome face that my eyes unerringly find the second I enter a room. If it scares me how much of my waking thought he is taking up – how much would it scare him? “I– I’m sorry, sir. I have not been feeling very… confident about my work lately.” “I can hardly believe that to be justified in any way. You have always possessed a raw talent I can scarcely dream of.” “That is not true.” “Well then, I challenge you.” Mischief sparkles in his eyes and an inadvertent giggle escapes me. “You mean it? We have not done that in ages.” “All the more reason to do it now.” “Y/N, are you coming?” Daphne calls across the room. “She is otherwise engaged,” Benedict grins before I can reply. “Is that so?” “Your brother has thrown down the gauntlet and I’m afraid I shall have to pick it up.” Daphne rolls her eyes, amusement playing on her lips. “Are you having one of your silly art competitions again? What is it this time?” “Portraits,” I say hastily. “We will paint each other. Fifteen minutes, as usual.” I wonder what possessed me to choose Benedict’s face as the subject, of all things. Most likely pure masochism. I do not dare gauge his reaction although I can feel his eyes on me. “Well, Amelia needs her walk now.” Daphne glances at the crying baby in Violet’s arms. “I suppose we shall see you both later. I’ll be happy to choose a winner then.” “You’re hardly impartial,” Benedict grumbles. “Neither are you when it comes to Y/N,” she retorts. Before I can begin to untangle her accusation she has breezed out the door.

Eloise is as bad a chaperone as ever, engrossed in her book a few yards away in the shade, while Benedict sets up his canvas beside me. Mine is leaning up against my chair. Despite my excessive practice I was not quite able to capture his essence. Perhaps because it felt so strikingly different from the other times he sat for me. I had asked him not to speak, as to not strain my jittery nerves even further, and he had obliged, albeit reluctantly. But with every passing second the silence between us grew heavier, along with his expression. It weighed down my piece of charcoal, making it impossible to find my usual ease in sketching. Just when I feared it might crumble between my tense fingers, Benedict murmured, “Time’s up” with a glance at his pocket watch. Before he could peek at the result I hurriedly asked for a lunch break which we spent with an unusually talkative Anthony. Now we have returned to our previous spot and he sets up his own work. “May I ask,” he says after the first few strokes, “why the quick engagement? Did you know immediately that he was the right man for you?” His jaw clenches while he firmly stares at the canvas. My hands grow clammy, clutching his watch tightly. “I could hardly afford such luxuries anymore. At four-and-twenty my chances of finding the ‘right’ man have been dwindling about as fast as my father’s faith in me receiving a proposal at all.” “You make yourself sound like an old spinster.” “Well, in the eyes of the ton I am. I should consider myself lucky to be engaged at last.” “But you don’t?” His eyes search mine intently until I drop my gaze, scared of what he might find in it. “Of course. Very lucky indeed.” Once more a long silence hangs between us. I suddenly feel impossibly tired. And as much as I want to blame the summer heat and sleepless nights, I know this weariness runs much deeper. The exhaustion of holding up the pretence that I am even remotely content with my lot. “Look at me, please,” Benedict murmurs and I follow his request without hesitation, taken aback by the deep concern in his features. He thanks me softly before resuming his quiet work. “Will you not be terribly lonely in India?” he finally asks. I bite my lip. “Not for long, I hope.” What I cannot say is that I am almost glad to go. To miss them all from so far away they will hardly feel real. To not see them fall in love and lead lives I will barely be a part of. To not sit and watch Benedict await his bride at the altar, breaking inside because it should be me walking down that aisle towards him. To not look at the children who have his wild hair and lopsided grin and not find a single trace of me in their faces. I blink away tears, desperate to change the subject before he manages to poke even more holes into my façade. “And what of your plans for the future, sir? Anything exciting on the horizon?” He pauses for a moment, seemingly debating whether to indulge me. “You will think me foolish, but lately I've been thinking about opening my own academy one day. One where your wealth and sex do not matter, where you are accepted on merit and passion alone. And perhaps when you are a personal friend of the owner.” He winks at me and I stare at him in feigned indignation. “Are you saying my merit and passion would not suffice?” “Not at all. If anything, you possess too much of both, so I would have to keep you in a private class as to not discourage the other students.” I glance down at my lap, hiding both my smile and the blush forming on my cheeks. “Well, I think, it sounds anything but foolish. You could grant opportunities to so many people who will never find them anywhere else. Promise you will write to me when that dream becomes a reality.” I look back up at him, surprised at the soft wonder in his eyes, then let mine travel down to his lips as they curve into a half-smirk. “When, not if? You flatter me.” “I believe in you. I always have. And I dearly hope that one of us will be allowed to live his dream.” Benedict swallows, all traces of mirth erased from his features. “Y/N, you–” “Time’s up,” I say, without a single glance at the watch. He bites his tongue while an entire palette of emotions flits across his face. “Here you are!” We both startle when Daphne appears beside me, placing her hands on my shoulders with a wide grin. “Brother, stop capitalising on my dear friend's time. She is my guest after all.” “And here I thought she liked to spend time with all of us,” Eloise comments and I suddenly wonder how much of our previous conversation she has eavesdropped on while appearing lost in her reading. The other Bridgertons trail behind Daphne, evidently tired from their stroll in the sun. Colin immediately snorts as he peeks at the canvas. “You cannot be painting Y/N again. Do you not have an entire portrait gallery of her already?” “Well, none of you little gremlins ever hold still for even a minute.” “I've sat for you plenty of times,” Daphne protests. “Yes, and you look like you'd rather hang every single time.” “Benedict!” Violet scolds gently. “Well, let’s see them then. You do need a few judges after all.” Despite my weak protests, both sketches are propped up beside each other a few moments later. The Bridgertons remain unusually quiet. “They are both fine works,” Violet says eventually. “But you two seem so…” “Gloomy,” Kate finishes. Everyone nods. “Did Eloise bore you with an excerpt from her book while you were drawing?” Colin quips and ducks as said book comes flying at his head. Within seconds the family is caught in familiar chaos and I let myself be dragged off to another lunch despite feeling so queasy I might never eat again. When I glance back at Benedict he only manages the barest of smiles.

The week and a half of my stay at Aubrey Hall passes in a turmoil of emotions. As much as I love spending time with the Bridgertons and try to fully revel in their company, it unnerves me. Feeling their observant eyes on me, the underlying tension in the air, I have been growing more short-tempered and nervous, increasingly avoiding the presence of the people I love the most to escape their questions, both voiced and unspoken. The portrait of Benedict lies buried in his studio. I could not bear having his charcoal eyes stare at me with the same apprehension as his soft green ones. Being around him has lost all the ease we used to share despite my infatuation. I am glad when Simon joins us, creating a distraction for Daphne and thus some room for myself. But no amount of wandering the familiar halls and gardens, hiding away in the library or furiously filling page after page of my sketchbook can calm my racing mind. Anxiety has nestled deep inside my chest, constricting my lungs and churning in my stomach. And then it arrives: My last day at the manor. They surprise me with a picnic under clear blue skies and despite my incessant sorrow it turns out rather lovely. Before long, the little ones are running around and I find myself pulled in all directions, playing and frolicking in the sun. The adults disperse as well, picking up games or strolling through the gardens in deep conversation. Eventually, I sink down onto a blanket next to Daphne and Amelia, out of breath and surprisingly cheerful. My friend looks over at me, a wistful expression on her face. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your time with us,” she says softly. “Of course,” I reply automatically. “I always do.” I let my eyes wander over the scenes around us and the despite the joy in the air, panic and despair once more rise in my throat. Cotton fills my ears, then my entire skin starts to tingle. And suddenly it comes crashing down on me. The intense finality of these last few days with the Bridgertons. The very real possibility that I might never return to Aubrey Hall, never again chatter with Daphne, joke with Colin, debate with Eloise. Never chase the younger siblings across the rolling greens or laugh at a seething Anthony after an eventful croquet match. Never have a single moment alone with Benedict. I have been a fool for believing that distance would make me miss them all any less. Because at this moment I am certain that I will be longing for these days for the rest of my life. Still, the sob that rips from my mouth takes me by surprise. “Y/N?” Daphne turns to me, little Amelia on her lap eyeing me warily. I want to reassure her but instead tears start flowing uncontrollably. “Oh my dear!” Daphne sets her daughter down on the blanket, then throws her arms around me. “Y/N, whatever is the matter?” I cannot find my voice for several minutes, overwhelmed by the most intense sorrow I have felt since my mother's passing. When I finally speak, the words come out raspy and broken. “I am going to miss you all so much.” “Well, how awful would it be if you didn't?” Daphne says, a half-smile on her lips but it fades as she inspects my face. “Is it more than that? Are you truly not looking forward to marriage at all? I know it can be daunting, Simon and I have had a rocky path as well, but now I cannot imagine a life without him.” “Because you love him!” The words come out rougher than intended and Amelia winces, her mouth curling into a frown. I quickly cradle her in my arms before she can start crying as well. Nuzzling her soft hair I avoid Daphne’s eyes. “You've always loved him, Daph. Even when you could not yet admit it to yourself, even when you did not know that he returned your feelings.” A tense pause stretches between us. “Do you truly believe you will never love Captain Parker?” she finally whispers. I bite my lip, unable to answer. “Y/N, why on earth did you accept his proposal if you cannot see a happy life with him?” I want to scream at her, want to rage at her naiveté, her inability to grasp the gravity of my situation. But I cannot. Not at my best friend who does not know and can never know how this engagement came about. “If you do not want this, I can help you,” she says softly now. “We will find a perfect match for you next season. Who knows, maybe even somewhere along the way until then?” Daphne attempts another soft smile and my tears start flowing again. If only it were this simple. She reaches for my hand while I am pressing Amelia closer with the other, relishing in her warmth and quiet babbling. “It pains me to see you like this. There must be something I can do. I realise that Anthony and I have been very lucky to have found our partners, but if it is not love that persuades you to marry, it should at least be mutual respect and fondness. I am certain we can find such a man for you, if only–” “No,” I say determinedly. “I am grateful to you, Daph, but it is too late.” “Too late because you're afraid to break off the engagement or because your heart is already taken?” I gasp. “Daphne–” “Is it someone I know?” “No, it's no one. There is no one.” I press a kiss to Amelia's head, then place her in her mother's arms. Wiping my face, I rise to my feet. “I am sorry for my outburst. Do forgive me. I just need a moment to myself.” “Y/N–” “Thank you for the picnic.” Brushing away fresh tears I flee the picture-perfect scene that now only breaks my heart.

Hours later everyone is bustling about in the parlour, impatiently awaiting dinner. I have claimed the piano in the corner and let my fingers wander over the keys, following a soft, melancholy tune. My gaze loses focus in the middle distance as I calculate the number of hours I have left here. There is no clock in the room and yet I can hear an unrelenting ticking. “Is that your latest composition?” I flinch before my eyes find Benedict's, his lacking their usual sparkle. “I– I am not certain...” I clear my throat and Daphne briefly glances over at me, worry in her features. “I'm still working on it.” “It's beautiful.” “You do not sound quite convinced,” I say with a weak attempt at a smile. “No, I mean it. Every piece you compose is beautiful. It's just... It sounds so deeply sad.” I suddenly sense how the atmosphere in the room has changed. Even the little ones have gone quiet, with everyone stealing looks of concern at me. “I am so sorry, I did not mean to ruin the mood. Please carry on.” I chuckle nervously and the Bridgertons are kind enough to return to their antics, albeit slightly forced. “Y/N, are you alright?” Benedict's voice is low but strained. I turn back to the keys, once more biting back tears. “Of course, sir. I am perfectly fine.” “You do not seem like yourself,” he murmurs. “You are usually.... softer. But also stronger. With such a zest for life. I've never seen you like this, so burdened, so sombre.” I raise my chin, attempting to look challenging rather than heartbroken at his astute observation. “And what about you, Mr. Bridgerton? These past few days you have hardly been the carefree man I've come to know.“ “Then you must know that you are the cause.” We both still. Blood is rushing in my ears as I try to steel myself for something I fear and crave in equal measure. But after a long moment he shakes his head, swallowing heavily. “I worry about you, Y/N. We all do. I know things have not always been easy for you but until now I believed our family could provide you with comfort. And if that is somehow no longer the case, surely the prospect of starting your own family should excite you.” I hopelessly rifle through my mind for an answer that might assuage him once and for all. “Dinner is ready, my lady.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Wonderful!” Violet smiles at the servant who has appeared in the doorway, then claps her hands. Her offspring rises from floor and sofas, muttering about being starved while jostling towards the dining room. I stand up so quickly the piano stool topples over and I reach for it at the same time as Benedict. Our hands briefly touch in mid-air, sending a spark through mine before I can pull away. He stares at me, the ticking even louder than before. “Y/N, you must know that you can confide in me.” “There is nothing to confide, sir.” “Benedict.” My face runs hot at both the insistence on his first name and the multitude of my confessions boiling so close to the surface. His features soften as he subconsciously draws closer and I scramble to my feet, heart pounding wildly. “We should go, everyone is waiting.” Before he can reply I rush out of the parlour, pressing clammy hands to my cheeks to soothe the fire in them.

Dinner is strangely quiet and whenever I glance over at Benedict I find him already looking at me. For the millionth time this week I wonder if I should not have discredited his motives so quickly, should not have dismissed his attempts at forming a tighter bond between us for the fear of falling too far. Is it possible I might have misread him all these years? Too blind in my self-deprecation, too caught up in worries about money and class when he never seemed to care much for these things, when perhaps he could have easily seen beyond them? Should I have rather flown too close to the sun than never have flown at all? When the children have gone to bed I linger with the others, barely engaging in the conversation over drinks but unwilling to embark on the hours of anxious brooding in the dark ahead of me. Eventually, the yawns become more frequent and one by one the Bridgertons retire until at last Daphne and I make our way upstairs as well. I halt as we pass the library. “I’m not quite tired enough for bed. I am going to peruse the books for a while.” Daphne turns to me, deeply mournful. “Y/N, I so wish you would tell me what is going on.” I feel my bottom lip begin to quiver and shake my head vehemently. “I can’t.” “Why ever not? Are we not confidants? I have always told you everything.” “And I am so grateful for your trust and friendship.” I envelop her in a tight hug. “I will be alright. Do not worry about me.” “How can I not worry when my best friend is so clearly unhappy?” She draws back to examine me once more. “I have had my happiness. With you, with your family. That shall be enough. Not everyone finds a happy ending.” “But you so deserve it,” she says, grasping my hand. “Both you and–“ She stops herself abruptly. “Who?” “Never mind.” I want to ask again but nod instead. She seizes a candleholder from a side table and lights it with the flame of her own. “Take this. And don’t stay up too late. We will speak again in the morning.” “Goodnight, Daph.” I slip into the dark library and carefully close the door behind me. After a few deep breaths I walk around the room, lighting more candles, until I am startled by a soft knock. With a sigh I move to open the door. “Daphne, please, can we–“ The words die in my throat. Benedict stands before me, carrying a grave expression. “I need to speak with you.” “Sir, you have to leave,” I splutter. “What if someone sees us? Daphne might still be nearby.” “She was the one to tell me where to find you.” “What, why?” “Because she knows.” “Knows what?” A long pause. Then he carefully pushes past me and presses the door shut. I can do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “Sir, you–“ “Are you fond of your...”, he clears his throat, “your fiancé?” “Excuse me?” “It's a simple question.” My chest tightens as panic once again seeps into my veins. “I am hoping I can learn to be.” His eyes burn into mine, brimming with concern. “Y/N, are you scared of him?” “Sir–“ “Benedict, please. Please.” “No. I– I'm sorry, I...” I am so tired of crying, so I bury my nails painfully into my palms to hold back the tears. Still, I am shaking before him. He slightly raises his arms, as if wanting to pull me into a hug, and I wish more than anything I could let him without risking to fall apart entirely. “You must break off the engagement.” “I can't.” “Y/N, you're terrified. That is not a life you're entering, it is torture. And it’s killing us to know that you are hurting, that you might not be safe – it’s killing me. Is he choleric? I swear, if he ever laid a hand on you, I–“ “He already has.” “What?” “At the midsummer ball. He seized me in the gardens and touched me... Kissed me. Lady Clementine saw us and reported to my father. Father claimed that we were engaged and thus we were.” Benedict has turned to the nearest bookshelf, lips in a tight line, knuckles white from grasping the wooden board like a vice. He is trembling and my stomach sinks even further. “Did you explain the situation to your father?” he presses through gritted teeth, eyes boring into the volumes before him. “Of course. But he is deathly afraid of scandal. Our standing in the ton is on such thin ice as is.” “That's not true.” “Yes, it is.” Frustration starts boiling within me, one that I have been harbouring since I first set foot into their manor on Grosvenor Square ten years ago. All this splendour, so nonchalantly taken for granted by the entire family. All those visitors so obviously enchanted by the grand Bridgertons, never questioning their rightful place in this world. “You have no idea what it's like. Your father wasn't just barely rich enough to gain some footing in the ton but not to provide you with an appealing dowry. You have never been an only child, never had to be scared that your family's legacy might crumble if you ever step out of line for even a second, even when it's not your fault!” I am vibrating with restrained anger but quickly run out of steam when his face falls along with his shoulders. “You're right,” he whispers. “Please forgive me.” “I have to apologise as well. You have been born with an array of privileges from your sex to your wealth but I know that you do not flaunt them. However, my options aren't as wonderfully unlimited.” I swallow thickly. “So you see, I cannot end this engagement. My already slim chances would be ruined, who else would make me an offer after this?” “I would.” His reply is immediate, certain, and it crashes into me without warning. My mouth is dry, every nerve in my body alight. “That is incredibly kind, but I could never accept.” My voice nearly fails me. “You deserve a grand life, Benedict.” His eyes widen at the name finally spilling from my lips where I have kept it hidden for so long. “You will be a renowned artist, a gift for society in so many ways. And you deserve a woman you adore by your side, one who will never leave a stain on your good name.” “I have already found her.” His words hit me unexpectedly at first, an instant stab of jealousy in my chest. Then a lump forms in my throat as realisation sets in. A realisation I have never allowed and am not ready for still. “But I cannot seem to make her see that she has held my heart for an entire decade. That her smile and wit and artistic endeavours captivate me more and more with every passing year. That I could have lived with her romantic disinterest in me, had she found someone whose soul matches the beauty of hers.” “Benedict...” “That my name from her lips is the sweetest sound in the world.” “Please stop.” He pauses briefly. “Are you scared of me as well?” “Yes,” I blurt out, “I have been scared of you since the moment we met because you make me forget myself. You make me forget that you are entirely out of reach, that no matter how much I love you, I–“ My hand flies to my mouth, heart slamming into my ribcage. I stumble backwards while muttering senseless apologies. Benedict is stunned into silence. It feels like years pass between us. When he finally speaks, his words are hoarse and quavering. “You... You love me? All these years every advance of mine seemed futile because you thought–“ “Please forget everything I have said. Promise me you will.” “Forget? Forget the most wonderful words I have heard in my life?” “Benedict, I’m begging you…” I give into the tears at last. Whether they are born of desperation, frustration or simple pain, I can no longer tell. He walks towards me, a barely-contained storm on his face. “I refuse to live in a world where I do not hear you say my name every single day. Where I see you but once a year, your light slowly dimming in a loveless marriage. Carrying the children of that... bastard.” Now he is crying, too. “Please do not do that to yourself. Do not submit yourself to such misery. Whether you choose me or not, I will support you. I will do whatever I can to give you a good life. The life of an artist if you want it. That I can promise you. You will always have me.” He sinks down on both knees, his fingers carefully closing around mine. “And if you do choose me... I will do the same and more. I will give you everything I've held in for so long. My love for you will never falter.” I am frantically searching for reasons to deny him because none of this could ever be real, his skin on mine, his unbelievable offer in the air. My mind is reeling, trying and failing to catch up with everything that has transpired these past few moments. Years of dreams and longing, so briskly swept aside to reveal a glimpse at a reality that must be impossible because it always has been. “What would your family say?” I say shakily. “What would everyone say?” His hold on me tightens. “You know my family adores you and would accept you with open arms, no matter the circumstances. And I could not care less about anyone else. The gossip would die, it always does. Lady Whistledown would surely distract them with something else within a week.” A rivulet of hope trickles across my heart. “Could this... could this truly be?” “Tomorrow you will meet him in the city. All you have to do is talk to him one last time. I will be there if you want me to. Heavens, the entire Bridgerton clan will be there if you want us to.” We both chuckle through the tears. “You are not alone in this, Y/N.” I let his words sink in for a long moment. “And what if I choose you?” “Then we can go into town right after to pick out a ring and speak to the vicar.” His thumbs caress my knuckles reverently. “Will you? Will you do me the incredible honour of accepting my hand?” My knees buckle and I lower myself onto the floor before him. The blazing anxiety I have grown almost accustomed to has faded into glowing embers. After having wandered through hell for weeks, I find peace in his hopeful gaze, comfort in the soft contours I am so intimately acquainted with. A kaleidoscope of memories flashes before my eyes, all tinted in new colours. It has always been there, right in front of me: He loves me. And all I have ever had to do was say yes. “The honour would be all mine, Benedict Bridgerton.” A strangled noise escapes him before his eyes frantically scan my face as if they might find a single trace of doubt there. They could never. Not anymore. His hands come up, hovering beside my cheeks. “God, I really want to– Is it alright if I–“ “Yes!” He grins, breathless and blushing. “I haven't even–“ I lunge forward and press my lips to his. It is clumsy and overwhelming but also everything I have ever wanted. He almost tumbles over in surprise, but seconds later we are completely entangled, seeking each other's mouth over and over. Heart pounding, skin aflame, I am certain this is the happiest I have ever been. Because while my body nearly gives out with the strange exhilaration of it all, I also feel perfectly safe. As if this is exactly where I belong, where everything finally makes sense. In between kisses he whispers my name like a confession of love. It is from his lips. When we finally part for air we stare at each other with endless wonder, then start smiling deliriously. I reach out to cradle his face in my palm and he leans into it with a sigh. “Ben,” I murmur, the name unfamiliar but sweet in my mouth. He beams at me. “Come here, darling.” Without hesitation I let him pull me into his lap, just as desperate to be close. I no longer care if anyone finds us like this, am no longer terrified of scandal. Not when I know for certain that I will marry the love of my life, unfazed by gossip and propriety. I nestle into the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his scent, revelling in the warmth and solidness of his chest. His arms encircle me as I feel his heartbeat slow. Knowing it was I who made it race in the first place fills me with a fervent glow. “Do you have the slightest idea how incredible you are?” I say quietly as I lean back a little to look at him. “I cannot believe you would have provided for me if my father had turned me away.” “Without hesitation. You're everything to me, Y/N.” “What would your future wife have said?” “I cannot imagine there ever would have been a wife.” My eyes widen. “Oh Benedict…” “Never mind that.” He gives me a half-smile. “I would have had my family. And hopefully you in some way still.” My heart aches for the unhappy people we would have almost become and I pull him in for another kiss, assuring him and myself that will never be us. Then I am hit with one more realisation. “Wait, when you said that Daphne ‘knows’, did you mean...?“ “About my utter adoration for you? Sweetheart, they all know. Always have. You were the only one who never seemed to see.” “But no one ever–“ “I made sure they wouldn’t bring it up. Although you can imagine how excruciating it was for them.” “But why? Maybe one of them could have pulled me out of my head for once.” He gently caresses my face. “I wanted you to find your own way. Whether it would lead to me or not.” My heart swells with love as I lean my forehead against his. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For waiting. For saving me from myself. For everything.” “You have always been worth it.” We once again lose ourselves in a long kiss and I wonder how I would have made it through life without even a fraction of this bliss. Eventually, Benedict draws back, pure warmth in his eyes. “As much as I would like to stay here forever, I’m afraid we have to leave. Daphne may or may not still be standing guard outside.” I raise a hand to my mouth, trying in vain to suppress the giggle spilling out. He grins widely, then releases me and lets me pull him to his feet. “She is truly the best friend one could ask for.” “Oh, make no mistake, she will use this against us for the rest of our lives.” I smile up at him. “And I will cherish every second of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

MASTERLIST

[bakugotrashpanda]

Hawks x F!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I feel rusty af with my writing right now. Also reader is lowkey @kweenkatsuki coded :3

!!: sex, talk of having kids

Hawks is normally suave and charming… except for when you’re around.

It started so innocently.

Ding! The elevator door opens and Keigo watches as a tall stack of boxes labeled Bedroom wobbles precariously. 

“Careful now!” he says and swoops in to grab the top two before they topple off. “If you need help moving in, all you have to do is-��� The last word dies in his throat. He can barely make out the top of your face peering over the rest of your boxes, but your eyes have already captivated his.

“Thanks for catching that,” you laugh. God your laugh is beautiful. “I don’t want to take any more of your time though.”

Keigo shrugs and smiles wryly. “If I don’t have time to help a pretty woman, then I’ve been slacking at my job.” He adjusts the boxes in his hands and takes another from your pile. Stepping to the side, he lets you lead the way.

“You might’ve seen me on TV before,” he says smoothly, “But don’t feel you have to call me Hawks. We’re neighbors now, call me Keigo.”

“Alright, Keigo,” you laugh, “I’m in unit 902.” Keigo’s heart skips a beat. Literal neighbors. He stares at his corner apartment, unit 903, not even four yards away. You fumble with the keys and he can make out a collection of keychains. There’s got to be something he can use here to keep the conversation going.

“You like raccoons?” he asks lamely. It was the first thing out of his mouth. What if it was a gift? Something you didn’t actually like but kept for sentimentality? Wincing, he scrambles for a plan of how to salvage this.

“Y’know that video of a raccoon accidentally putting cotton candy in water and then looking all confused about it?” you keep walking to the back of the apartment, your voice bouncing off the empty walls.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that once or twice.” Most of your major furniture is moved in, and your bedroom is no exception. The headboard rests against the shared wall with Keigo’s apartment. 

“It makes me cry,” you say, “Every single time.” There’s no hint of a smile, no ‘gotcha’ moment, just pure seriousness.

“Every time?” Keigo laughs and sets the boxes down.

“Every. Damn. Time.”

“There’s no way.”

“Pull it up right now and I’ll be in tears.” There’s something in your eyes, a challenge? Goading? He likes it. Someone who, for once, isn’t trying to suck up to him because he’s a pro hero. Not that he wouldn’t mind you suck-

He all but shouts the first thing that comes to his mind to end that line of thought. “The walls are thick, so you and your boyfriend don’t have to worry about being heard.” 

Smooth. Real smooth. 

“Funny, I don’t have a boyfriend. But I do have a phone number, and you should let me know when you’re free so you can show this new girl around town.” You pull a marker out of one of your pockets and write it on the palm of his hand. Damn. Here you are, pulling out all the stops, and he can’t get his fucking foot out of his mouth.

“If we’re exchanging things, you should have one of these.” His wings rustle and a feather darts out and hovers in front of you.

“A feather?” you ask and pluck it out of the air. Warm. Rolling the quill between your thumb and forefinger, Keigo watches you inspect the small red feather.

“It’s linked to me, so if you’re ever in trouble, just –” A shiver runs down his spine, and it takes all his willpower not to physically respond. Your finger runs along the edge of the feathers. So light and curious, but fuck all Keigo wants is your hands running along his – 

No.

That’s only because you’re doing it right now and it feels good. You’re neighbors. There’s no way he can think of you as anything other than a friend. For fuck’s sake, you haven’t even moved in properly.

“Just stroke it,” Keigo finally chokes out “I’ll feel it.” Your finger freezes. A ghost of a smile passes over your lips.

You clear your throat. “I’ll make sure to put this in a safe place.”

As Keigo closes his front door, there’s a soft click to his left as you also leave yours. “Morning, Keigo,” you call out to him.

“Hey, Chickadee,” he chuckles. Not even a week in and almost every morning the two of you happened to leave at the same time. It must be fate – if fate is another word for Keigo listening for the jingle of your keys and telltale singing as you get ready to start your day.

“Off to work?”

“Another day making sure everyone stays safe.” Keigo tucks his keys in his pocket and turns to see you standing by the elevator in a yellow sundress. He lets out a low whistle and lifts his glasses to see you in all your glory. The skirt hit your midthigh, and while the top had thick straps, the sweetheart neckline drew his eyes to your chest – and based on your smirk, you knew exactly how you looked in it. “Where’s a pretty lady such as yourself heading?”

“This really cute guy showed me a cafe a while ago, and there happens to be a bookstore rather close to it. I figured I’d get a book and a coffee and enjoy the sunshine,” you shrugged. “Oh c’mon Keigo, it was you. Like I’d let just anyone show me around.” Apparently he hadn’t been able to conceal his frown at your mention of a ‘really cute guy’. 

But his feathers stayed ruffled the rest of the day. You were on his mind so much that Keigo made blunders at work. You had him tongue tied and jokes with coworkers came out punchline first. Paperwork didn’t get done. The fastest man alive slowed down for a little bit. 

When he got home, he decided to call it an early night and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Maybe that was the problem, not that he couldn’t shake your dazzling smile or infectious laugh, but maybe he was simply sleep deprived. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

But even sleep is hard to get when his mind keeps drifting. 

Mmm… Keigo lifts his head from his pillow. His wings practically vibrate with energy. A small gasp fills his mind, a hitch in the breath. He feels it deep in his chest – his blood hums from one of his links. 

Shaking away his sleep, he sits up, silk sheets falling away from his bare chest. Absentmindedly rubbing an old scar on his shoulder, he runs through all his feathers. The one at his office is fine, as are the ones with his top three sidekicks.

Oh god… just like that.

It’s none of the ones he tucked away in potential hideout locations… That leaves –

I-I’m almost… Ha- oh fuck… oh FUCK

A short scream followed by breathy panting echoes in his ears. And then it’s silent. Even the low hum of vibrations that initially woke him up. 

That… was you. Right next door. Did you realize he could hear everything? Probably not. You said you were keeping his feather in a safe place, and what safer place than the bedroom?

Keigo spent all night staring at the ceiling trying not to replay the sounds you made. Every time his mind drifted, the glorious sound of you coming would stir him and he’d find himself hard. 

He debated the ethics of jacking off to you – he hoped the ‘ethics’ part of it would be enough for his raging boner to die down. On one hand, you didn’t have to know. Ever. Does anyone really know how many people get off to the thought of them? Or hell, even him, the number two hero, how many people in the country fantasized about him? He doesn’t know. But on the other hand, what if he started getting feelings or you got a boyfriend or something?

Somehow he was able to get you off his mind and sleep.

“Do you ever think of leaving from the window of your apartment?” you ask as his door shuts. You’re waiting for the elevator, back to him. Keigo looks you up and down. Another sundress. Is this your normal clothing? Do you wear this to work? A stab of jealousy rips through him at the thought of your coworkers getting to see you like this every day and getting to hear your laugh. “Or is that not allowed?”

“Morning to you too,” Keigo says carefully. The ruffle at the end of your dress stirs as his wings flutter slightly. A good gust and - “You’re… glowing this morning.”

“Got a good night of sleep,” you grin at him. Your smile falls though, replaced with concern, when you finally look at him. “You should try it some time.” Your lips turn down, a slight pout sending pure lust to his groin.

Not now. Please, not now. Nothing like an elevator ride with a hardening dick that you will notice because that’s how his luck is.

The door dings and slides open. You walk on and turn, holding the door for him.

“Are you coming?”

If only.

“I- No I forgot something,” Keigo waves you off. “Go on ahead.”

A shower. Oh god he needs a shower.

Cold water pelts his skin, each droplet a shock to his system.

Oh god

He tries to focus on the cold, but your voice persists. It curls around his ear, teasing him, begging him.

Just like that

Keigo’s nails dig into the palm of his hand. His cock twitches as he remembers the way you moan. 

Mmm just like that

His eyes close and he can imagine you bracing yourself against the shower wall. Your ass pressed against his dick. And he wants nothing more than to slip inside you. 

Oh fuck

Keigo’s hand wraps around his shaft and he starts pumping his cock. How he wants to grab your hips and thrust into you instead of his fucking hand. Your cute panting would fill the room, and your tits. Fuck. He could leave marks on them just high enough that they’d peak over the edge of your dresses. 

I’m almost…

What if he had fucked you in the elevator? Slipped your panties down and taken you against the wall? He’d slide so easily into you. He’d leave you with a love bite to remember him by, and he’d take your panties as his own memento.

Keigo grunts and thrusts once, twice more before shooting ropes of cum. He inhales deeply and braces himself against the shower wall. All at once everything assaults his senses; the freezing temperature of the water, the sound of water hitting him and the walls before running down the drain, the whine of the bathroom vent. It’s all too much. 

Keigo wouldn’t say he’s avoiding you… but he definitely went into work earlier and stayed later than normal. Whenever he sees you all he can picture is his head between your thighs, pressing kisses into your soft skin, your hands lacing through his hair trying to get his mouth to find its target.

He barely knows you. He doesn’t even know what you do for work, if you have friends in the area, anything. 

But he’d like to know you, if only he could get his brain, dick, and heart on the same page.

His wings hum with pleasure and he searches through his feathers to see who has grabbed his attention. Again, it’s you. He’s tempted to listen in, see what has you in a good mood, but he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Another hum. Laughter. Loud, soul filling laughter. He can’t not peek now. 

Your voice is muffled, but he’s able to make out your conversation.

“But you know who I live next to? Hawks. I get a lil eye candy on my way into the office every morning… At least when he’s not swamped with work.” He can practically see the pout on your face. “Now he’s someone I wouldn’t mind having a productive one-night stand with.”

Oh?

Blood pumps to his face and groin at the mere thought of a one-night stand with you. If he heard you scream his name, he’d instantly nut.

“Ugh, yes, the baby fever is real, but you don’t understand. He’s so fucking hot. And c’mon. We’d have cute kids.”

Oh?

“And he looks like he needs to let off a little steam. He’s so… tense nowadays. Barely get a ‘good morning’ when I do see him.” Keigo stews in your silence as your friend no doubt responds. You seemed interested, but what if it was all talk? Your laughter breaks through his thoughts. “Yeah, if he showed up at my door asking me if I wanted to bang, I would say yes, but that’s not going to happen.”

Like hell it won’t. He tears his way to his front door and yanks it open. Frantically, he pounds on your door as if you’ll take back what you said. He waits. Each second you take drives his blood pressure higher and higher.

Cautiously, you open the door. He catches a glimpse of your breathtaking eyes through the crack. Your wary scowl is replaced with a wide smile when you realize who it is.

“Hey, I gotta go. Call you later.” You end the call and shove your phone in a pocket. “What’s up?”

Keigo opens his mouth only for nothing to come out. He’s smoother than this! Where are all the one liners that come to him so naturally? Where’s the suave motherfucker who can charm the pants off anyone? Who are you and what have you done to him?

“Wanna bang?” It’s the first thing he can think of – the one line that got him out of his apartment and scrambling for yours.

Your eyes widen for a moment before narrowing. Keigo had never seen you mad before. Annoyed, sure, but never mad. But now… now he feels like a storm is brewing, and you’re the center of it all. 

“How did you know that?” you ask slowly. 

There’s no easy way to explain it. Actually, scratch that. He probably could explain it, but it’s easier to show you. For some reason, whenever he speaks around you, his words betray the cool, confident man he portrays.

The little red feather he gifted you zips through your apartment and hovers between the two of you. Glaring, you snatch the feather out of the air and stroke the edge of it. Keigo barely catches and swallows a moan. You had to know what you’re doing to him. 

“You can listen with this.” It’s not a question, but he nods regardless. “You were listening to me?!”

You’re furious with him all right and he’s in no state of mind for an argument. “I thought you knew! I thought I told you th-”

“You told me no such thing!”

“I gave it to you for emergencies!” he says desperately. You’re still stroking the feather and he’s losing control. “How do you think I’d know if you’re in trouble?”

“YOU TOLD ME TO STROKE IT!” you snap, “You never mentioned that you could hear everything!”

“I- Okay that’s on me. And I’m sorry.” He braces himself against your doorframe and exhales deeply. He is fucking this up beyond belief. “I’m sorry.” Again, with feeling. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave y-”

Soft arms wrap around his neck and tug his body against yours. Your lips are against his, a hint of strawberries subtly playing with the taste of you on his tongue. He can finally feel you, your curves, your chest against his, your perfect ass. 

“If you’ve heard everything, what took you so damn long?” you demand. Your fingers are just as demanding, pulling him into your apartment and stripping him of his shirt before shedding your own.

“You’re not angry with me?” Keigo asks as you finger his belt.

“Oh no, I’m angry,” you arch an eyebrow at him, “But you heard what I said. If you came to my door wanting to fuck, I’d say yes. I’m angry, and you better start apologizing.”

Oh.

Oh.

He can do that.

Keigo scoops you up in his arms and rushes to your bedroom. He worships you, pressing kisses over your body, lavishing you with attention. You want an apology? He’ll give you the best damn apology he can. 

He may have struggled with words, but his tongue does wonders at conveying his thoughts. He doesn’t stop until your grip on his head reluctantly relaxes and your body is shaking with release. Your chest rises and falls rapidly

“That,” you clear your throat, “That was a pretty good apology.”

“Aw, Chickadee,” Keigo gently places a kiss below your navel, then ribcage as he works his way up the bed to you. You shiver each time his lips make contact with your body, your trembling inhale music to his ears. “I’ve barely started. What did you say again? We’d have pretty cute kids?” His body hovers over yours. “We can start working on them now if you want, and besides, I haven’t done my job until you’re screaming my name.”

With a smirk, you hook your arms around his neck and pull him into a passionate kiss. “So what are you waiting for, Keigo?”

Image in banner from unsplash

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

All the MTC song trailer snippets are out? What are your opinions? :D I think Rio's is surprisingly chill and I'm still torn on Samatoki's, the lyrics might decide that one!

Heyy did you listen to the mtc album snippets ?

Nope. Let's check them out!

Backbone:

Title note: Presumably from 気骨, which has a slightly stronger-- almost noble-- connotation than English "backbone." Someone with 気骨 never lets anything stop them from doing what they believe is right, and not necessarily in the personal sense like in the English phrases "Grow a backbone." or "They have a strong backbone." As some people in this comments section are noting, it's also possible to interpret the title literally. The back is a recurring image in Japanese fiction; in this case, it represents Samatoki single-handedly shouldering various burdens for those he cares about. People are also drawing connections to the Aohitsugi's death motifs and Samatoki's skeleton speaker.

20 seconds in: Okay he literally just says the shouldering burdens bit haha. I guess that part is canon authorial intent

24 seconds in: "Nobody can break my 'backbone.'" If we assume this should be interpreted figuratively, that's like "Nobody can make me do anything I don't believe in." / "Nobody can break my spirit."

35 seconds in: "My 'backbone' is my true strength." This + the traditional Japanese-reminiscent instrumentals remind me of the Katen-gumi. Iirc they have a scroll hanging in their main office proclaiming their dauntlessness, an attribute Samatoki embodies well imo.

53 seconds in: This is a mean-spirited thought, but I always find it funny when Samatoki's like "This god damn city is broken and filthy... *takes a drag from a cigarette*" when the god damn city in question is one of the most affluent in the world.

64 seconds in: With that said, it's nice to see him acknowledging the positive presence he has in Yokohama and vowing to rid it of... whatever ills are plaguing it... taxation and ne'er-do-wells with illegal mics, no doubt. An Ichirou-esque sentiment.

71 seconds in: Props to Asanuma for rhyming jinsei and shinsen so well. "My life is always fresh; this is still just the prologue." Samatoki being receptive to growth? You love to see it. With that said, it's interesting to see the discrepancy between the two ideas of "It's time to change." and "My core values will never change." as we see in this song. I'm not sure how that'll actually play out in canon, so we'll have to wait and see.

Overall: That was fun! It had a nice beat. I look forward to hearing the full song when it drops.

Awake:

Title note: ??? 目覚めた? Like, "I'm woke af now"? Haha let me see what this song is actually about and then come back to this...

Side note: I was staying with a friend-- a buddy from the old scanlation team-- when this song preview dropped, and she was keeping me up to date with this song's delayed release drama. When it finally dropped, she was like "YOOO SLUG, LISTEN TO THIS" and turned her phone waaaay up, blasting the sonorous tones of Mr. Komada into our not at all soundproof hotel room, immediately alerting me to two things: 1. I was not awake enough for this. 2. The illumatic Iruma Jyuto was IN the building and, at that volume, probably in every floor of the building. Anyway, I'm still not awake enough for this, but let's go.

5 seconds in: Love the horns. Very MTC and very Gen III Pokemon. Yokohama 8/10 too much water

20 seconds in: hey hey heeey

30 seconds in: I appreciate the technical skill involved, but I am not comprehending one word of this. I'm going to have to look up the lyrics when I'm done fr.

Overall: Seems fun to rap! Once again, looking forward to the full song.

Top YT comment at the time of writing: Juuto: Y'all never seen me like this before! Me: Yeah, no shit.

Scrolling through the comments: Spare lyrics, ma'am? Spare lyrics for the poor? Jesus, there are some thirsty-ass mofos in this comment section...

Well, I didn't find any lyrics, so here goes watch 2 with a lot of pausing, I guess. Hmm the gist of the chorus seems to be "I'm not fucking around anymore" which-- like someone else has pointed out in the comments-- is kind of how Juuto's been since day one...? I'm not sure what's changed. I suppose the biggest difference would be it's no longer "I'll solve this problem" but "we'll solve this problem." I do like the opening of this first verse: When someone makes bad choices, who's left smiling? Who's left grieving? What is right, and what is wrong? Can that be something for every person to figure out for themselves? Here's another interesting bit: I used to think I didn't have any interest in colluding with other people-- it was more like mutual exploitation. But then I joined hands with a couple of like-minded people, and now we share the goal of victory. Yeah, it seems like the biggest changes here are Juuto embracing teamwork, which hell yeah. Opening up and trusting other people with his mission, in turn taking on their missions and incorporating it into one singular goal? That's baller.

Title note revisited: yeah I guess deadass this is "awake" in terms of "I'm woke now" haha. Or like, "I've come around to [the power of friendship]"

NO WAR:

5 seconds in: Oh, now I get why someone on the Samatoki video called this "Riou's baby-ass song"

22 seconds in: I was NOT prepared for the autotune. I think I'm a little too tired because I found this really, really funny.

30 seconds in: "Conflict isn't entertainment; it's not a show." YOU TELL 'EM, RIOU.

44 seconds in: I always really, really appreciate Riou's unwavering distaste for warfare and conflict even as he considers it something worth devoting his life to. I would sincerely love it if the authors were to ever dive into why Riou has such dedication towards serving in the [whatever] army and whatever cause they were fighting for, but I don't think that's the story the authors want to tell. We probably just have to assume it's for whatever Riou considers to be a morally good cause.

49 seconds in: Ignoring the rhyme-induced silliness of "my buddies are my turret," I like the thematic consistency of each MTC member stressing that they're not alone anymore--that is, that they've given up on their self-imposed solitude--and they have each other to rely on and trust with their backs.

53 seconds in: "Practically brainwashed puppet soldiers" Oh?? Mind expanding on this a little, Hypmic? Again, I doubt the writers are keen to delve into the causes of WWIII or why Riou joined up at all, but the suggestion of propaganda or coercion being involved is tantalizing.

65 seconds in: I like the bit that goes (paraphrased): "What can you see when you look out of your binoculars at base camp? Rifles, revolvers--is that it? Instead of obsessing over who's strong and who's weak, why not be soldier who prays for peace?"

Overall: The lyrics are vaguer and more platitudinous than is my preference, but I fully recognize that my interests in this topic are outside of the scope of the story the writers want to tell. Which is fine! The music is pretty chill; I think I'll like this song when it comes out in full.

My favorite YT comment by a landslide: Thank god he's not making us work out again.

Thank you very much for the asks! :D It's fun to check this stuff out, and I probably wouldn't have done so otherwise.

[sgiandubh]

I want to ship SC, trust me I do and I love them together, but I just can’t fathom how far they stretch a fake relationship (her and T). Like for example the recent picture of them holding hands- now it’s not an insane gesture but definitely one we haven’t seen before. So maybe they truly are just a private couple. But in my heart of hearts I just love her and S together so much, and don’t know what to think because on one hand they are simply everything together and on the other it seems like she really is with T. I’m confused 🥲 what’s your take?

Dear Confused Anon,

I will be brutally honest: no, I do not trust you and I do not care about your crocodile tears. Not a single bit. In fact, once I will be done with my answer to you, you are most probably going to press CTRL+C, then CTRL +V. And run to the nearest Mordor sweatshop, in the hope one of the Three Sopranos will insult me again.

You see, to trust you, I would have to speak with at least a handle, not a coward in disguise. And then, even DMs are neither always safe, nor always honest - I have recently learned it the rough way, despite my best efforts, tried (and up until now failed) to forgive and will never forget.

By now, I suppose everyone got a good look at this splendiferous picture:

Take a long, quiet, hard look at it, Shire.

So organic it could kill a moth colony on the spot.

So heartfelt - she doesn't even look at him.

So sentimental - that icy smile of hers. A happy couple, indeed.

A general round of applause, all across the Nation.

You are very wrong: it is not the first time they are holding hands, I mean, sort of. The much touted London marathon pic immediately comes to mind - although you'd have to admit, I looked and looked and he seemed to be checking her pulse, rather than being lovey-dovey.

A real private couple would never stoop as low as a cheap, laborious retcon, in retaliation for a couple of thousand people speculating on a niche blogging platform.

It took four years, a month and four days after that Remarkable Week-end to see McSideburns clumsily try and claw her hand. Remarkable, indeed.

And are you trying to tell me the MC didn't shake your beliefs and this does?

This perfunctory, formulaic, scripted AF, blip?

Wow. I have no words, Anon.

That unkempt, bland person - for God's sake, mister, tuck that damn shirt in your pants! - looking like the elephant in the china shop at a carefully curated event celebrating the supreme form of French refinement?

This is insulting, to say the least. To her (and her prized image), to Chanel, to this fandom, to S and believe it or not, to himself, too. Granted, the Berluti shoes are showing some improvement and are now clean. Hmph.

So here is what I think, Anon (and I know people are going to shriek and guess what, I do not care, for once):

It's been at least one year this fandom has been asking for this specific pic and for this specific whiplash. A childish tantrum, as she is regularly throwing. Mind you, that doesn't even come close to the painfully slow, monumentally boring Flukenzie Floozy Saga and looks as staged as the Ochoa & S London sighting (ah, patterns!).

This is the reaction to our scriptwriting ineptitude.

This is also the reaction to some underground shenanigans, directly related to a birth certificate apparently being peddled around. I will not discuss this, yet know just that: this is a legal claptrap, right there. I can, and if needed I will prove it. With the cold, surgical precision Mordor is so afraid of.

But she is a mother, for Christ's sake!

A mother!

As I said, I am not a mother and never will be. I do not wish this trial on anyone. But if I know something about life, I can guarantee you a mother would do whatever it takes to protect her child(ren).

Including taking precisely this kind of sad and forgettable pic.

So, there's that. We choose and we choose now: we fall for it once more and let the playbook fiddle with our insecurities once more and post endless trails of old pics once more to soothe the searing indignation.... Or GROW THE FUCK UP and show to whom it may concern we're not buying this shit anymore.

I know what I'll do. You're on your own, Anon: my tough love took you only this far, down the road. Sorry for the length. It was needed.

For the moment, I just booked an appointment with Miss Fotoula (roughly Claire, hehe), my genius hairdresser. I will ask her to refresh my dirty blonde mane.

[tales-of-wocdes]

I sent a whole different ask. God hopefully you got it because sometimes they get lost on here but MC with glowing hair btw adorable af.

My MC has white hair so i definitely am going for a very angelic stoic vibe. Also Mr creepy mc creeperson. At the end of the demo gave me the goddamn creeps.

Dude has issues. I think it was a dude... dk... but eitherway they need therapy or an exorcism. Or a gallow. Something 😑

I think I got the previous one :D The queue is quite long for my responses right now, and they are in roughly in the order they come in :D

Thank you for the asks!

Glowing hair would indeed be adorable, and a stoic MC is a lot of fun :D Just observing the world. I will admit, I noticed I tend to use the "stoic MC" quite often to give options when they have no idea what to do :D I trust that people will tell me if it gets too bad.

Stuff about end of demo and some (gruesome) lore below that the gallows brought out.

At first I forgot what I included at the end of the demo and kept thinking if the end of C2 landed a bit wrong :D Then it dawned on me that there was indeed more included. Yes, the very end of the demo was meant to be rather unpleasant. Happy to hear I succeeded in making it creepy :D An odd sentiment to feel. Still, an exorcism might not be enough to solve these issues.

The gallows bring me to lore that I totally did not just decide on right now: Public executions are rare in Firgrat. When they do happen, they are not drawn out affairs. The Ancients would prefer not to glorify torturing people for nothing more than entertainment. Gallows are supposed to be fairly efficient but still can take a few minutes. So other means are used. Quick and efficient means.

[vintage-vermin]

I like Ongezellig, it popped up like half a decade ago on my feed randomly. Thought it was cutely done, saw Maya and was "oh no, she just like me fr fr" Waited and saw part 3 show up and then the rest.

I sometimes just have stuff that I love, but don't even bother engaging the fandom in any way. There are shows that have helped me be less of a cunty teenager decades ago that i love, but I have never gone to a fan forum or searched tags on any site. Sometimes I only search out the creative parts of the fandom and don't bother with discussions.

I love the random little things you can find on sites like Tumblr or other art-focused platforms for Ongezellig. Redraws, OC's in the shows style and fun pieces of some of the background characters Because oh, oh no, I'm not a fan of the rest of the community. But we'll hit that up later. Later. The creator made webcomics before. Had a little youtube channel with YTP's and some random reviewy stuff. Had an old Deviantart with some furry and the rare pony thing. Did an interview for a dutch comic collection ages ago that was a fun read.

(So, you only have to mail this letter) (Mailbox has a colloquial word where it's shortened to 'bus', same word as the vehicular one. "To put a letter on the bus") (... Yes, the one without wheels) He had a little comic named 'Caiasos' that was a bit of a disjointed adventure. Followed with Mayo & Curry. Simplistic 3-4 panel comics with a bit of a newspaper format.

(One day, Mayo wondered what ink tasted like) (You know that's poisonous, right?) (The box reads "Correction Fluid") A lot of the Mayo & Curry stuff is dutch snackbar puns or kinda standard early webcomic 'sleaze' as I can only describe it. Ever read like Chugsworth Academy?

(Hey Curry, it's not really clear what our relationship is in this comic. Are we family, girlfriends, roommates...) (Haha, silly Mayo. If you read the comics well it's very obvious.) (Anyway, time for walks!) Cute enough I suppose. I used to read Sexylosers when I was like 15, who am I to truly complain.

The creator did some creative & animation schooling and made a fun project. Some of you may have seen this one fly by, too!

Somewhere around the same time, he also made a little bumper for a comic festival.

He would also do little bits on dutch history, wether it be the Dutch History Iceberg video that got popular a bit ago or his more comedic Stille Willem videos. Studio Massa, the creator, was looking to get the Ongezellig show picked up. Some of the early episodes do throw in a school shooting thing and some very dutch middleschool discrimination to the Belgians. Granted, these are pilots. Would it have been picked up, I'm sure a few things here and there would get a fix up. This did not come to pass after a long time of trying to showcase it and even finishing his pilot series. However, he did land a job at a national tv station. I hope to see new projects of his over time, maybe even bring 1 or 2 of his old characters to new life in another show.

Little write-up on my experience with a subsection of it's fandom and community under the cut, feel free to ignore at your own discretion.

I went on a little deepdive to find out more a bit ago, I didn't follow the Petje-af or the Discord at the times of their inception or popularity. One of the first places you end up is imageboards and booru's. What a treat. Some of the ' documentation' of the shows reception online is very muddled. Encyclopedia Dramatica kinda stuff. Inane terms and barely understandable references to sites or people. He also has a KF thread that lists a large amount of uncomfortable information. By the time I found a few of those boards and booru's, it was already clear that they had some mass-extinction thing happen a few years ago and had to rebuild an imageboard and a booru or 2. Dragging myself to the very first page already got me greeted with "WE WILL REBUILD" sentiments. I get that there's a certain combination in the show that will bring in a specific audience. Underage characters and some historically charged discrimination. There's an underlying edginess to one of the characters that brings in a certain type of people. I have seen multiple posts and write-ups spanning a few years between eachother where people sort of announce they are done with the shows fanbase on this level. Lot's of adult art of these characters. While most places seem to be purged of this and plenty of (THIS POST HAS BEEN DELETED) messages all over by this time. There's a sentiment shared across a lot of these types of fans. "fucking tr00ns ruined my fucking show" I've come across plenty of junk where some one makes a call to action because they found some one with a trans flag in their bio and posted some art of the show. I can't really find the root of this problem. All that seems to have actually happened is that a buncha people were being massive bigots in the discord, got banned for it and then they got indignant about it. There's mention that some one spammed some boards with the show ages ago and somehow invited tons of transphobia into the room. Like I said, it's all muddled and written from certain perspectives.

It's like that one part of the K-on fanbase really. I just find strange and a bit of a shame that there's such an active and hostile subsection of this little fandom. I have come across multiple write-up from people who just can't interact with their fun little show without some out-there types showing up. Even little videos that try to bring this show to a larger audience find their comments littered with bizarre callouts to the small imageboard groups. A prized possession of that snippet of the community is a game about Mymy shooting up her school. I understand this is supposed to be a niche layer of fandom that's still pretty isolated to 4/5 sites at most. I understand that there will always be outliers. I dunno, frustration about a fun little show made manifest.

[boonesfarmsangria]

"X-Ray" - yes. good

"All in Your Rows" - skip

"Latchmere" - music is good, lyrics are dumb but the interview where orlando was like a wavepool was a big deal. Idk what kinda place you lived where its not. 👌

"About Your Dress" - this is better live than on record. could take or leave

"Precious Time" - love it. so great. with very good lyrics. glimpse of what theyd become

"O.A.V.I.P." - no. not now anyway

"Tissue Shoulders" - nah

"Happy Faces" - no

"First Love" - this song is cute but maybs also annoying

"Mary" - what

"Lego" - sad

"Toothpaste Kisses" - absolutely not

"Love You Better" - great. the cadence, starting w better and being big out the gate. so great. orlando has gotten the voice now and god bless

"One Hand Holding" - ok. lil too zydeco school cheerleader come on eileen

"Can You Give It?" - love it. his voice on this is ahhhhhh

"Young Lions" - this is a good maccabees song. like all the talents working together perfectly

"Wall of Arms" - yes please. so good live

"No Kind Words/Bag of Bones Part A" - this is a good turn and like the dark(er)ness

"Dinosaurs" - amazing

"Kiss and Resolve" - nah. sweetheart could never be said again and thatd be too much knowing it had been said before

"William Powers" - good

"Seventeen Hands" - fine

"Bag of Bones Part B" - love it

look tbf i have no idea whats being said in a fair few of these like i just read the last line of seventeen hands and what the hell ?

"Given to the Wild (Intro)" - good way to open

"Child" - beautiful

"Feel to Follow" - good. like the casually here remix and vocals better and have now realized that song was the first time i am aware of hearing orlandos voice*. and have since learned those were special re-recorded vocals. this version feels almost draggy *this is absolutely false. i already was in love with a quickening when i first heard this remix

"Ayla" - music on this with the lyrics is choice

"Glimmer" - maybs top 3 of theirs for me. so pretty

"Forever I've Known" - or this. also so pretty. have had this stuck in my head for a couple days & the parts when the music comes in heavy, amazing. and his voice

"Heave" - Good but also kinda annoying and repetitive

"Pelican" - sure. fun and good live. like the lyrics

"Went Away" - this has such big 90s feel to it. its good but also dorky but i love the shouty ending and also sad

"Go" - love it. pretty. very pretty

Unknow (featuring Catherine Pockson)" - i love this one too. vocals are super intense and love the sentiment. think i saw somewhere it was an attempt at a dance or electronic song but its very late 80s early 90s synth sounding to me

"Slowly One" - too precious. i dont like this. and the music is weird with these lyrics. idk what the plan is here

*Grew Up at Midnight" - this is teenagery af but its very pretty and nails the emotion perfectly. its manipulative. could be in a movie

i think this might be their best album. and touches on more relationship types and circumstances. there is also the preoccupation with time which is interesting to me. like time having passed..time has passed by. things are past now

Marks to Prove It - love it. orlando is a sting like lyricist but he does it better. he has a more people centered way of looking at things. hes making characters. anyway yes love this one and the yelling at the beginning is apt

Kamakura"- yeah of course. cadence on this👌 your best friends forgive you your best friends forget you get old. this is one of those lines that can be interpreted two ways and both work and which is it

"Ribbon Road" - this like toothpaste kisses and another one i cant think of right now are so super weird in the full picture of their work. like what is this song? its so idk americana-ish, westerny idk. and kinda 50s-ish. its just strange. not, not good, but out of place

"Spit It Out" - big fan

"Silence" - :/ no. this is sad and some of the lyrics are cutting but as a song i just cant. knowing this was it (final album) i get it, but still

"River Song" - i think this song is great. and the big swelling end is how this song should go. this as a singalong would be fun so long as you had a decent amount of booze and disregard in your system. but this song is also a lil crazy right?

Slow Sun" - mixed on this. sometimes i like it and sometimes im just like shutup

Something Like Happiness" - gold

"WW1 Portraits" - is this their best song? the of course they do part. died. someone on genius said if someone wrote this about me i wouldnt know how to behave and that is too right

"Pioneering Systems" - this is a weird song

Dawn Chorus" - this and a couple others in this are getting very leonard cohen-ish or maybe lou reedish and im not feeling that.

impo you can do sad lyrics with upbeat music or happy lyrics with dark/sad sounding music but never happy & upbeat (cloying, saccharine) or dark & sad together (gimme a break). its just too Too. there exists songs that prove exceptions to the rule, of course there are. but they are rare and have to be very good.

Musically these guys are all over the place which maybe is why both people loved them and why people didnt love them. they are very broad. its like when an artist just does everything and its all good or interesting but no one cares and then theres an artist that paints the same shit over and over but its their developed style and people lap it up and they get famous. Im just making the point. But what is true of music that gets really really stratosphere popular is that it is samey. Theres enough deviation (sometimes) to keep it interesting but its mostly the same for that band/group/artist to have a hook and a cozy familiarity, a thing they do that is theirs. Maccabees have a few different handfulls of songs that really go together. you might really like what 4 songs do but not what any of the others do...and you might not ever get a fifth of that type of song...that make sense? and maybe thats why live i kept seeing a similar setlist over and over no matter which year. and maybe there wasnt a strong enough personality in the group to drive & hone the creative flow. a natural one, not an oppressive one. idk & it doesnt matter & i probably wont find out. what i do need tho is orlando to stop being so sweet (as a solo artist) because the quality of his voice conveys other emotions so beautifully. (ill win your heart with a woop a woo vs im a child to your voice) or stay away from bullion ffs

[pensbridge]

(Other Thoughts) Big Bridgerton Watch B4 Season 3

1x01

How is Anthony just f***ing Siena with his footman there to guard as if he doesn't have a care in the world?? (*future thought-poor Sienna & how she's viewed)

1st spotting of Edmund's watch w/Anthony

Violet coming @ Anthony for being late (can't wait for her to have moments like this w/Colin possibly??)

The queen & her many dogs xx

I wonder if we'll still be seeing some stress plaguing Anthony due to any responsibilities in S3 or not [juxtaposition to how he handled Daphne to how he'll handle now]

Anthony is such a hater even this early; lol (re: Saphne).

How can Anthony take Violet's criticisms of being overbearing as a prompt to match Daphne w/that old af man when there were other options right there?!

1x02

Don't (do) talk to me about how Lady Danbury wasn't around much for her own child, but treated Simon as her own, nurturing him while his own father never did instead putting him down. 😭😢

You really see how young Daphne truly is. The scene where Violet tries to tell her there is something to look forward to in raising children, to throw herself into as she is to have an unsatisfactory marriage with Berbrooke--she expresses how she looked up to Violet's marriage with Edmund and to think how young the Bridgerton siblings were and how it's affected even Daphne as one of the younger siblings really makes me interested to explore the feelings of all of them (the different ways it shaped them). Daphne idolized them; it would be interesting to see the spin off of Violet & Edmund after QCABS.

1x03

Lady Whistledown reading: "I have always thought that an appreciation of the arts is what lifts us beyond mere animals. It stirs the passions and moves the spirits." (I don't have substantial thought here for s3, it's just a potential tidbit)

Same sentiment as above- "These days a modern young lady must display a miscellany of talents in her quest for a suitor. She must be a witty conversationalist, an accomplished musician, and an expert in the art of the swoon." (LW)

Violet & ABC at the ball: Violet trying to set up her children is never not classic TV humor I do hope we get more of it in the future!

1x04

Can't wait for more Philippa and Cheese Man

[beautifulpersonpeach]

About JK’s solo. Left and Right was cute but boring. Dreamers was meh. Seven okay. 3D is total trash. Irony is, he is (was?) my bias…… the quality has been going down with him. so far his solo is boring af and I don’t see the genius everyone’s been taking about myself included…….. 🤷🏻‍♀️

***

Ah, now we're starting to veer into toxic territory. Good effort.

I'm sure many people share your sentiment because I've seen this argument in many places. The issue I have with it though is how this is true for nearly every. single. English song BTS has done. People hate the PET to this day and almost forget we had BE in the middle of it. Jungkook wrote Your Eyes Tell, worked on Film Out, and wrote Still With You during that time too. So maybe it's less a question about talent and more about the poor A&R for their English songs? Dreamers was another outsourced song.

The only marginally good English song from a BTS member (for me) is Like Crazy, and that's a song that was written in Korean and worked on by BigHit's in-house producer team, then transcribed into English.

JK's talent isn't what's questioned here. We've seen him do better. Many people just aren't impressed by his current musical direction and it's fine to be frustrated without losing sight of the forest for the trees.

[sitp-recs]

Hello live, it's me :3 the anon who asked about having troubles with a common drarry dynamic. I just wanted to thank you because i didn't expect to feel so seen 😭 or find someone who felt the same way. I didn't get to speak much about it, but YES i also do feel very strongly about emotional imbalance. It's so important to me. Thank you so much for that kind and understanding answer.

This has encouraged me to really look at some of your personal recs knowing they're from someone with similar sentiments. I'm not saying this to put pressure on your personal recs! Please, this is your blog and i can really simply fuck right off, it's so not on you. the same way it's not on authors to write what makes me feel comfortable 🥂. It's just that i think your answer has given me newfound courage to look at some of your tags and faves with gusto~ I know some recs are made specifically for the askers and some works won't be in line with my preferences so I'm still very careful.

ALSO, thank you for reccing me authors!!!! Gosh! DID YOU KNOW THAT I'VE YET TO READ A FIC FROM TACKYTIGER?? Liv u rock.

------

regarding my previous ask, i guess then, do you have lengthy wholesome fics or those that end wholesome-lly 💛🍂☕? Feel free to recommend absolutely anything on that regard hahahha. And please only answer when you feel up to it, I'm good over here 😌 ✌. It's the holiday season, you shouldn't have to do things u don't feel like doing.

In light of our kinship regarding a certain veritaserum scene, i shall call myself, veritaserum anon.

Hi again, anon! I’m so happy you felt seen and validated 🫂 I noticed some comments on that post sharing the sentiment so we’re not as few as you might have thought! I’m very excited to hear your thoughts on those lists but I’d maybe start with the ones below and see if they work for you. Most explore Draco’s redemption arc in ways I personally found satisfying and without belittling any character. I avoided fics that deal with hardcore emotional imbalance (I love the secret identity trope but I didn’t want to take any chances) and tried to include some recent, lesser known fics in case you’ve already read the popular ones. Also - I’m biased af when it comes to my pal @tackytigerfic but imo you should definitely start with Modern Love then make your way through their superb catalogue! Happy readings, and Happy New Year :)

8th Year/War Years:

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch (T, 43k)

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Seeker, Chaser, Keeper by VivacissimoVoce (M, 59k)

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks (E, 73k)

At Your Service by Faith Wood (E, 95k)

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Far From the Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Post-Hogwarts:

Take a Chance on Me by @mintawasalreadytaken (E, 41k)

Here’s The Pencil, Make it Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Take the Air by dysonrules (M, 51k)

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

The Compact by astolat (E, 64k)

A Young Radical's Guide to Love by blamebrampton (T, 66k)

Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites (E, 67k)

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

Timecode by Rasborealis (M, 73k)

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 (E, 91k)

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by nerakrose (M, 96k)

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 104k)

The Paradox of Active Surrender by @korlaena (E, 108k)

Way Down We Go by xiaq (T, 109k)

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (E, 114k)

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 130k)

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (E, 150k)

Foundations verse by Saras_Girl (E, 364k)

Angst with a happy ending:

Vale Sanare by RurouniHime (M, 23k)

Holly and Hawthorn, Thistle and Thyme by bryoneybrynn (T, 31k)

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 77k)

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Medium Length:

Tidings of Comfort by blamebrampton (G, 10k)

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (E, 11k)

How We Throw Our Shadows Down by thistle_verse (T, 14k)

Turn and Face the Strange (time may change me) by @punk-rock-yuppie (T, 16k)

Vortex by @xanthippe74 (T, 20k)

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k) - 8th year

Doing the Lambeth Walk by blamebrampton (T, 26k)

Speak (and may the world come undone) by @shealwaysreads (E, 26k)

Slithering by astolat (E, 27k)

The Nobility of Ascent by Lomonaaeren (E, 27k)

Waiting by an Open Door by Femme and noeon (E, 29k)

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 29k)

The Consolations of a Summer's Day by blamebrampton (T, 33k)

Open for Repairs by @drarrytrash (M, 35k)

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 38k)

In Dreams by @moonflower-rose (E, 38k)

[thotsforvillainrights]

Hope you’re doing well, and taking plenty of breaks 💖✨

I had to backflip into your ask box, because Nemoto content has been DRY af, and I always love reading your prompts. Those Christmas prompts have plenty of potential and it was hard to choose, but I’ll go with #11 it’s definitely giving fluffy vibes, but you can do with it as you will.

Hope the rest of your pregnancy goes well >v< you’ve got this ✨

(I agree with the Nemoto sentiment, Anon. I was thinking about updating his AU the other day since it's been a million years since I did anything haha. Looks like prompt #11 is going to be real popular here since this is the second time for it. Hope you enjoy!)

(@glassartpeasants I took the liberty of tagging you too since I know you probably could use some sweet Nemoto content for your holiday season, and I know you miss him dearly)

~Shin Nemoto Prompt #11~

Maybe it was the holiday season, or maybe it was because he'd been away from home for the prior week, but your husband was showing you more attention here than usual. Of course it wasn't unusual to receive his attention. He was always very sweet and loving with you. It's just that lately he'd been even more so (and clingy to boot). Perhaps it was because your one year wedding anniversary was quickly approaching or maybe it was because the two of you had moved in with each other in this house as you'd ditched small apartment life. You'd spent a little more time getting ready for the holiday party some of the other Hassaikai members decided to throw with Overhaul's permission tonight. Shin instead of getting ready as well, had opted to stand in the doorway and watch you prepare the entire time with goo-goo eyes. You laughed and shook your head before turning your attention to him and raising an eyebrow. "Can I help you sir?" You teased and he smiled softly back at you. "My apologies. Was I making you uncomfortable my love?" You turned back toward the bathroom mirror and proceeded to get ready while conversing with him. "No no, of course not. I love being stared at while washing my face." You joked and he laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, I just...I love you so much." A moment of silence between the two of you as you took in his sweet words. It never got old hearing him say it because you know he said it with his whole heart each and every time. "My love I'm truly sorry if I'm displeasing you with my actions. It's just that this is the first time I've felt right at home here. I'm thankful to have moved into this home with you and I'm happy to be able to have you as a spouse. I promise to always treat you with the love and respect you always deserve." Although he'd already promised this at the wedding (and a couple more days since then) it was never going to get old hearing him say it to you. "Well then, aren't I lucky to have taken the Nemoto name hmm?" You smiled warmly at him.