#stop eating my macrons

[new-berry]

We won! A World Cup game! E wāhine toa.

[suguruslut]

Just relationship things

𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

<<< 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩��𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙖🐅| 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙖🐕 >>>

Gwen’s note: general relationship headcanon prompt for Tora/Masa requested by @crimsonspiderlilyy💗

🐅𝒯𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜🍰

--being in a relationship with Tora would include watching the Food Channel every.single.night. whatever cooking or baking competition is on, Tora will make you watch it with him. you can both be heard screaming at the TV when the person you were rooting for gets cheated

--I can see Tora being someone who uses physical touch to show affection. likes to lightly put a hand on your arm or waist as a greeting or just in moments of silence, a way to ground himself and calm down when he’s pissed. deep down, Tora really craves physical contact, so he’s glad you allow him to be close to you

--BAKING DATES! whatever new dessert or goodie you want to try, he’s all for it. will dive deep into his Pinterest boards for kawaii new treats you might like, bunny marshmallows, Pokémon macrons, puppy print cookies, whatever suits your fancy, and he won’t let you eat it until it’s perfect

-working out together. Tora obviously is in good shape, and yeah, sometimes he has to drag you out of bed in the mornings to get to the gym before the weight lifting machines get all germy, but in the end you don’t mind, bcz it gives you a front row seat of those delicious muscles👅

--has an extensive skincare routine you wouldn’t believe, will explain each process like he’s a youtuber or something. definitely educates you on what products work best, taking you on little shopping sprees to get the best lotion and toner he insists you need

--the man LOVES coffee and insists on making it himself, bcz why waste money buying $7 cups of coffee every day, so after you observe Tora’s delicate process of coffee making for a few weeks, you begin making it for him in the mornings before he wakes up. Torajiro loves waking up to the smell of coffee, and always gives you a big kiss whenever you do this little, but meaningful thing for him

--Tora is a big dude, takes up a lot of space on your shared mattress, so he tries to lie very still at night as to not wake you. you, on the other hand, move all over the place, legs thrown over his, arms sliding this way and that, drooling on both pillows...as long as your tossing and turning ends with you two cuddled up, though, Tora doesn’t mind

--my big man isn’t used to really going out on the town anymore; he hasn’t done that since before jail time, but finds it fun when you’re there with him. you guys just go on walks, mostly, stopping at little stands along the way, looking up at the moon in the darkness....then he’ll run into Tatsu and well, obviously they HAVE to yell at each other while you and Miku watch

--overall, Tora is a very loyal partner, and whatever new activity or new job you want to try, he’ll be there for support

🐕ℳ𝒶𝓈𝒶🥡

 --being in a relationship with Masa would include lots of tom foolery😂 always pissing the wrong people off, skipping out on the bill, burning dinner, clogging up the sink, etc. etc. But in a fun way!

--Masa tries really hard to stop screwing up so badly. he’s gotten better at keeping a job for longer than three days, but when he gets fired again, he always tells you right away, bcz he knows you won’t get mad like Tatsu. instead, you buy him some shitty ramen, a couple bottles of booze and kiss him to make it all better

--gaming sessions! nothing with an actual plot, cuz Masa can’t follow🤣 simple things, like Mario Cart, punching games, racing, shooting things...gaming is one thing Masa is pretty good at, so you two have lots of fun, lazy Saturdays competing against each other, cuddling and stuffing yourselves with snacks. if you beat him, he’ll brush it off as luck or says he “let” you win, but he’s actually secretly proud of your skills

--Masa can hold his booze better than his friends, but not as well as you~ when you have the funds, you two go out to a cheap food joint and get munchies with alcohol; you throw them back as quickly as Masa pours, then things get competitive: eight shots later, Masa is ready to hurl, and you’re still steady enough to help him to the restroom. he “let you win” though

--lets you wear his hoodies, tshirts, whatever. when they’re remotely clean, ofc. Masa wears really comfortable clothes, and you’re guilty of sneaking his shirts and jackets on a daily basis, but Masa doesn’t mind, because he thinks you look cute. you think it’s cute when he blushes after noticing, too, so everyone wins

--ALWAYS asking if you guys can get a pet!! Masa loves animals, but given his financial situation and general lack of responsibility, well...not such a great idea. you love seeing him light up at the sight of a dog, though, so a few times a month you bring him to a dog park so he can see cute doggos (and later have to prevent him from dognapping them or sneaking them under his shirt)

--I feel like Masa gives good foot massages?? maybe after you’ve had a hard day of being the breadwinner, Masa will make you sit down and rub your feet until all the aches and pains have gone away. man has magic hands

--constantly showing you off to Tatsu, his friends and anyone who will listen, lol. no one expected him to ever get a S/O, so seeing you two together always gives people a shock. then they hear you two laughing at a toilet joke. then everything makes sense

--whines about doing laundry, but if you’re there to help...hmm...can you say flirtatious underwear flinging? haha, Masa is terrible at folding, so you like with a lot of things, you turn it into a game: for every shirt nicely folded, Masa gets a kiss~

                                                 🐉 🐅 🐕

[theantichrists-blog]

Random death note head cannons if you were dating them:

Light yagami:

He would be very busy but still give you attention. If you wanted attention you would have to do things he wanted

“ Lightt” you say as you draw out his name as you speak “What is it y/n?” he says as he turns his chair. “ you should stop working for a little bit” you say as you get off of his bed and walk over to him, and place yourself on his lap. “ go ahead and write some names down for me, i wanna see you do my work” he says as he places his hands on your thighs.

if you also had a death note he would cherish it, he would have a safe place for yours and his death note so that you and him wouldn’t get caught

“see right here… this is where our death notes will be. they have this trap where if it is set off wrong then it will blow up the death notes and our names will be cleared” he says as he points to the trap where both of our death notes lays. He instructs you on how to properly remove the death notes from the trap when you need them.

he would buy you things if you hit a certain number of people who you wrote down, the more you wrote and the more deserving of your punishment the higher the price of the reward is.

“Aww i’m so proud of you. as a reward i got you another gift.” He says as he places a bag in-front of you, the bag is jet black with blue paper spilling out the top covering the contents of inside. you open the bag to reveal something special for you and him later 😏😏

if someone tried to hit on you or if someone tried to make a move on you with you saying no, he would pull out a move to find out their name and write it down in the paper he has hidden in his watch.

“i’m sorry no i’m not interested in you” Y/n says as she removes the strangers hand from her wrist. Light opens his watch and writes his name down quickly as he pulls you away from the situation swiftly.

L Lawliet:

when he’s working really hard on a case you would bake him sweets, he need the sugar to work and you knew how to get him to eat. your cooking.

as you were whipping the batter together you feel arms wrap around you, cold hands at your sides as you see a white long shirt on his arms. “are you wanting more sweets my love?” you say to him, placing your hand on his. you hear a muffled mhm on your back as he has burried his face into your hoodie. “i made coconut macrons if you would like one?” you say as you set the bowl down, grabbing one and turning around to give it to him.

he would love you playing with his hair or sitting next to him on the couch looking at case files, he knows that the files are confidential but he loves your presence with him. he finds it comforting and warm.

as your head lays on his shoulder, your eyes closed as he reads files on files about a case, trying not to move you so that you can rest with a blanket wrapped around both of you comfortably. you two sit there for hours, watari bring you both hot chocolate with whipped cream placed on top with a straw. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand in his hair, your fingers wrapped in his dark hair while rubbing his head slowly moving your fingers while your other arm is sitting around him.

Misa amane:

you two would do movies and videos together, but with this means you two would have to get ready together in her room, she would have everything for you so that you can look the part. She has everything, from the fishnets to the gothic thigh highs and corsets, plus the lace black dresses and long gloves, the big black heeled combat boots she would have and the studded bracelets she would get you ready, you didn’t have to bring anything but eyeliner, she couldn’t do it. you would have to sit on her lap and do her eyeliner for her, she would get very very flustered when you had to do this but she would love the cat eyeliner you did on her every time

“Y/nnnnn~” you hear your girlfriend whine your name as she has the pillow wrapped around her, wanting for you to come into her embrace.

she always makes time for you, she will genuinely cancel photo shoots just to spend quality time with you, plus you have to share phones from time to time because yknow she has some form of trust issues (light )

“Misa!” you yell as you see her walk through her apartment doors “i thought you had to work?” you say concerned, worrying if they canceled on her. “I left early to see you! i missed you so muchhh!!~” she says as she falls into your arms dramatically. “It’s been so busy i just needed some you time” she says, shoving her head into your neck, wrapping her arms around your body

[tourdesouthoffrance]

I struggled to find anywhere to eat last night. The majority of restaurants in Béziers close their kitchens at 9:30pm, even on a Saturday. I ended up in an Italian restaurant who weren’t very hospitable.

After a rather plain pizza, I sat outside the cathedral and enjoyed a can of beer as a gentle breeze began to blow around the city. Half way though my drink, I was greeted by a man named Benoit. We spoke about my love for French music and the political situation in France. He’s not a fan of Macron, however he is a fan of Beyoncé, Rhianna and Any Winehouse. His family live in the pink city of Toulouse but he lives in Béziers and works as a chef. His English wasn’t perfect, neither was my French, but we managed to communicate. Suddenly Benoit said “we must go, youth, violence”. A group of Moroccan lads were hanging around by the cathedral. I thought that they were fine, but he didn’t feel comfortable. We strolled around Béziers until eventually we said our goodbyes. On my way back to my Airbnb, I observed that everyone who was out after dark was Moroccan. The city still felt fairly safe, but it did have an edge to it. I don’t put this solely down to the Moroccans, the natives French people you meet in the daytime can be a bit abrasive. As I approached the door to my Airbnb, I noticed that there were two ladies sat smoking on my doorstep and that they were accompanied by a man of West African descent. “Excusez-moi” I said firmly as I edged past them. As soon as I closed my front door, it clicked, he was their pimp. I didn’t expect this in a main square not far from the tourist office. My initial thoughts were accurate, Bézier is rough.

The morning brought thunderstorms and I took a stroll to the cathedral to admire the view one last time. I got lost in the side streets and discovered a really cool coffee shop with jazz playing. Sadly I didn’t have time to stop.

At midday my Airbnb host Manuel picked me up and drove me to the airport. It cost me €20. Taxis cost over £50, so he saved me a lot of money. There is a bus service which runs to the airport, but this is infrequent, and I would have had to walk to the bus station. Basically, it’s difficult to get to Bézier airport.

As we drove to the airport, we discussed the reality of Béziers. It’s one of the poorest cities in France and there is a lot of unemployment. A lot of those who are unemployed are Moroccans. It’s a real problem throughout France. I was the last guest to stay in the Airbnb, Manuel has sold the apartment. Recently it hasn’t been very lucrative and he wants to focus on his software development business.

The drive to the airport was beautiful, I managed to get another glimpse of the Midi Canal. It took around 30 minutes to get to the airport. I was over 3 hours early for my flight, but it didn’t matter, I had arrived at the airport. The airport is probably one of the smallest that I’ve visited. I brought a baguette and coffee before taking a seat in the outside area. Then I received an expected notification from Ryanair, my flight was delayed. Thankfully, it was only by an hour.

[mediatudieshe]

Bonjour,

Je porte plainte contre le royaume uni harry meghan markle ils ont menti que e' fevrier 2022 ils m'ont vue tuer 2 hommes avec meghan markle.

Je demande leur destitution

et licenciement à perpétuité.

Sur you tube Belgique 2021 meghan markle disait etre espionne britannique et travailler pour la famille royale uk.

Tout leur mensonges sur moi n'est que complot de la famille royale uk.

J'ai jamais vue meghan markle harry macron le roi Philippe de ma vie.

CES FAITS N'ONT JAMAIS EXISTÉ.

En Belgique harry meghan markle macron le roi Philippe me firent empoisonné 3 fois par tshisekedi pour essayer de me tuer.

Je n'ai pas arrêté de porter plainte contre eux.

Ils me menacer de mort non stop disais etre CANNIBALS et pret a n'importe qui pour me manger. Je porte plainte demande leur incarcération pénitentiaire à perpétuité.

Good morning, I am filing a complaint against the united kingdom harry meghan markle they lied that in February 2022 they saw me kill 2 men with meghan markle. I demand their dismissal and dismissal for life.

On you tube Belgium 2021 meghan markle said she was a british spy and worked for the uk royal family. All their lying about me is a UK royal family conspiracy. I have never seen meghan markle harry macron King Philippe in my life. THESE FACTS NEVER EXISTED.

In Belgium harry meghan markle macron king Philippe had me poisoned 3 times by tshisekedi to try to kill me. I kept filing complaints against them. They threatened me with death non-stop, said they were CANNIBALS and ready for anyone to eat me.

I am filing a complaint asking for their life imprisonment.

[howtoliveinparis]

Garbage Strikes

Not to be on some 'Let Them Eat Cake' bullshit but I'm about to be on my 'Let Them Eat Cake' bullshit.

I don’t use the metro, and I no longer wander the neighborhoods of Paris so I don’t know what’s happening outside of my bubble. When I was at dinner last week there was talk about the strikes, but we didn’t use the metro so we just shrugged it off. “That’s Paris”. 

Strikes are normal. Everyone who has lived in Paris knows. In 2020 the metro was closed for like a month (right before Covid). If you lived here in 2016? That was probably the worst of it in my Paris history. The World Cup or the Championships were in town and those garbage workers said “fuck ya’ll, we’re going to make you look bad” and others did the same. At the time I lived at the bottom of Luxembourg and everyday boulevard Montparnasse was shut down for protests (manifestations). I stopped paying attention to who was protesting each day but it usually involves CGT. 

The city drove in huge barricades on wheels (over 12ft) like everyday at 2pm and set them up on Avenue de l’Observatoire, where the 6th and the 5th turn into the 14th at Port Royale. The Gendarme lived on boulevard Montparnasse. It was constant. It wasn't nearly as destructive as Gilets Jeunes but one particular day was so bad they smashed all of the windows on the boulevard Montparnasse and burned down an LCL. That corner of Raspail was barren for like a year.

One thing I learned during that time? Certain neighborhoods are unaffected. The road to Invalides, where the Ministre Outre Mer is, got trashed one particular day. The area was deathly quiet after those protests. Wet from the water cannons, no cars were allowed. It was like the protestors had violated some unwritten law. Since then I’ve noticed they’ve not let protests happen in this area. 

But back to 2016, when I learned that no matter how socialist Paris is, there are still the haves and have nots. Observatoire is a really beautiful street. I don't give Paris many compliments but the horse fountain in the summer is stunning. If you stand at one particular spot on the road outside Jardin Marco Polo all of the statues line up in such a way that it points to Luxembourg Palace with Sacre Couer looming above. 

It is also a border street. It turns into, but also runs parallel, to boulevard Saint Michel, and avenue Georges Bernanos at weird angles, so despite my front door opening to it, I never knew which of the three roads in front of my building were considered which. One side of Saint Michel is the 6th and one side is the 5th. I lived on the 6th side of the street so when I walked on my side there was no trash. Garbage men came every night. But if you crossed the street? Piles and piles and dead rats. 

From 2015-2018 I worked in Gros Caillou in the 7th, and lived there from 2016-2018. The area was in constant turmoil between strikes, the World Cup, the Champions League, and whatever period Macron and Fillon were in contention for the Presidency. Both of them lived in Gros Caillou (Macron on the ugly end of rue Cler and Fillion on square la Tour Maubourg, which is not a square), and it was chaos. But guess who always had trash pick up every night despite?  

Which brings us to today. News of trash is everywhere. Photos of what looks like New York City is actually Paris. Last week was Fashion Week so they chose the right time to embarrass the city. But let’s be real, those celebs are not treking to Bercy. They’re staying in idolized Paris, where this stuff doesn’t happen. 

For now my neighborhood is unaffected. Again. The trash men come right on time, every night between 7 and 8. I have since learned that we have Rachida Dati to thank for that. She has been Mairie of the 7th since 2008, and was politicking during those infamous 2016 strikes as well. 

It turns out that Paris does not operate how I thought. I always assumed the Propreté ran and operated all of Paris (the 75, the 20 districts). Turns out that’s not how it works. 

Thanks to Kitty Schrödinger on Twitter I learned of Rachida Dati. Cursory glance shows she serves looks, we stan, and worked under Sarkozy (do not stan). I looked at her tweets and learned she really hates Hidalgo (who doesn’t) and that she has vowed that she will always ensure the streets are clean even during strikes. That’s because the 7th is run by a private company called Derichbourg. 

I really thought it was a government conspiracy because the 7th is home to some of the wealthiest people in Paris; the L’Oreal heir, the Louis Vuitton heir, the Estée Lauder heiress, those two old ladies who own that empty building near Champs de Mars, and the Qatar owned property on Quai d’Orsay which is an entire palace with a basketball hoop in the driveway. Money influences power, but perhaps not entirely in this case. Derichbourg is operating in the 1st, 4th, 3rd, 10th, and 18th, in addition to the 7th. 

I know there are some pretty disgusting pockets of Paris (members of my women’s group are posting wild photos of particularly bad streets). But now I know a little more about the individual politics. Some districts are serviced by public workers, and some are serviced by private companies. 

As I type this story the street cleaners are currently doing their daily cleanings outside my window. I’m still not sure how the Mairies are able to work independently of the city of Paris, but I’ll keep learning. I'm going to dig in a bit more into the politics of my area and the people who run it, but thanks Rachida Dati. The 7th stays proving why it is the best place to live. 

**If you're in the 7th you can use this link to get the newsletter. A member of my women's group told me to do it, and she was right, it's easier than depending on socials. Habitants of other districts can find their Mairie's site and get the news too by signing up on their pages**

*Not originally published here. 

[britishchick09]

‘ghost on the roof’ s1 finale livewatch

the first livewatch of 2023 is here!!! to kick things off we’ll descend into fangirl madness with the season 1 finale of ‘ghost on the roof’! i livewatched the first two eps in march (nearly a year ago!!!), so i figured i’d pull a clarissa and do the same for the finale! i’m absolutely excited af to see how this amazing webtoon will end... for now! ;)

before we start... ♫ prediction time! ♫ in the last ep, a gala was held for the new production of ‘don giovanni’ and christine got one of the lead roles! pretty soon, she and carlotta will go to the stage for a special preview (hmm....)

but for now, christine is celebrating with her crew, aka raoul, meg, jo and cecile!

christine isn’t wearing a mask, just a stick mask! she’s wearing her contacts so a mask shouldn’t be a problem, but maybe she prefers stick masks! *ignores rewrite erik’s incessant rants about stick masks being awful in the background* :)

but then...

HE’S there in the crowd!!!!! and not wearing a skull mask like the past red deaths! no one will recognize him anyways, so he’s smart to do that! ;)

christine is like ‘!!!!’ and decides to go investigating. of course, raoul is suspicious and jo is like ‘wait was that the ghost?’ but he can’t do anything since cecile insisted that he stops his investigating for his safety. he still goes up to christine and asks if she’s seen a ghost...

will she say yes? will she fib to get jo off her back so she can eat her macron in peace? will she sneak off to find erik? will there be yet another rewrite coincidence with a secret dance like rewrite raoulstine? will a certain shiny af object fall during the ceiling to end the season on a... not quite cliffhanger? with how amazing i know this ep will be, will i survive to the end? let’s find out! ;)

IT’S UP YAAAAAS!!!!!!! :D

good christine said no to the ghost question!

she’s hiding ‘cause she knows somethiiiinnnnggg...... ;)

ooh raoulstine dance!

i wonder if she’ll see erik in the crowd like how rewrite christine did during her raoul crowd dance... ;)

lol! ;D

there are foot missteps just like rewrite raoulstine! good to see those things never change! ;D

also i just noticed the domino on her gloves! clever! ;D

aww raoul said she looks stunning in it :) (he’s not wrong she sure does!)

ooh christine needs a bathroom break!

a... bathroom break... ;)

HE CAUGHT HER WHEN SHE FELL OMG!!!!!! :D

it’s like how hans caught anna when she tripped at elsa’s coronation but better! ;)

also two bfs... one party... one jelly moment perhaps? ;)

eeeeee yas!!!!! :D

OMG ERISTINE DANCE????

erik just got  f r i e n d z o n e d  B)

someone’s jellyyyyyyy...... ;)

OMG YES but also omg no because he’s a secret boi! but maybe he’ll be in the gang in the epilogue like a certain story... ;)

oof same erik people aren’t fun! :(

also are those weird eyes on the people?

THANK YOU YAS!!!!!! :D

christine anime! ;D

;)

i’m sure they would sweet erik! :’(

OMG JINX! ;D

oooof... :/

yes you are! :)

but elsa said that same thing and she went into the unknown so... ;)

ooooooh they’re in a rotunda just like rewrite raoulstine!!!! :D

AND THEY’RE IN THE SUN ROTUNDA JUST LIKE THEM???? :O

*adds this to the list of ever growing list of ‘ghost’ and rewrite coincidences*

now share a dance you two! ;)

he thinks she’ll be ashamed of him! :(

yeah christine you tell him! you’d never be ashamed of such a sweet talented masked boi! :D

also his surprised look tho lol! ;D

lean twins :)

aww he’s glad they could see each other tonight :)

OMGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FIRST CANON ERISTINE DANCE!!!!! :D (besides the rewrite that sort of doesn’t count)

he doesn’t entirely like the persian like how he doesn’t like lerik in the book! ;D

and we sound like good friends? ;)

ooh sick burn bro! ;D

his face is cute :)

cuties!!!!! :D

also lol! ;D

omg he’s actually smiling!!!!!! :D

his little laugh and his cutie smile and his eyes closing because of that laugh and smile are so adorable!!!!! :D

his alternate reaction could’ve been this:

aww :)

the next ep should just be christine playing try not to laugh challenge videos! ;D

also they’re leaning in awfully close... ;)

OH????

thanks for breaking that off we’ll need more almost kisses in s2 for that sweet sweet tension ;)

aww he seems a bit sad to be ending the dance :/

but i’ll definitely be using that enchant line for the rewrite... ;)

:)

raoul is freaking out man! :o

he’s an uwu puppy ^_^

aww a bracelet gift! :D

that’ll go well with her scorpion necklace... ;)

also does it say ‘ca’?

edit: turns out it’s a grasshopper! (and a clever little book reference... ;) )

they’re so awkward i love them! :D

she’s so pretty! :)

“you’re just giving me other bf vibes that’s all” ;)

OH CRAP

the chandelier seems to be ok... maybe it’s the lights?

OR IS IT JO????

NONONONONNONO FRICK NOO JO!!!!!!

i should’ve known it was coming since buquet dies in the original but it’s still so shocking and sad! :’(

i’m guessing he just got mixed up in a trap and it wasn’t intentional like rewrite buquet but we’ll find out in s2...

this has the same vibes as that one ep of sailor moon crystal season 3 where a tragic thing happened and then the upbeat ‘otome no susme’ with chibiusa plays and it’s like ‘...hello SOMEONE JUST FREAKING DIED????’

anyways that was the season 1 finale of ‘ghost’! it was incredible, it was adorable, it was shocking and I LOVED THE ERISTINE MOMENTS SO MUCH!!!!!! that pretty much sums up all of ‘ghost on the roof’ though! it’s the best webtoon out there and i can’t wait to see what it has to offer in season 2! :D

[itsclydebitches]

Why do people get hung up on whether a gay person in media is a good or bad representation of them? I'm gay and I can tell you we aren't all the same? Being gay is our 1 common trait. So as long as they're gay then you've done it. Gay people can be kind, mean, racist, open, kinky, reserved, shy, outgoing, sexist, and literally anything else under the human experience.

Because I am perpetually hungry, let's tell a story about cookies.

You are a bright-eyed, optimistic, baker in the making. Your goal is to wow the world with your culinary skills, so of course you head to The Best Baking School for your degree. Over the course of your studies you learn how to perfect a thousand different cakes, an equal number of pies, and more versions of brownies than most would even assume exist. But cookies... oh, cookies are your passion! You can't wait to learn about the wealth of cookies you can make too. Then, sure enough, that part of your education finally arrives.

Funny thing is though, it's just chocolate chip.

Surely there's been some mistake? The cookie experience is vast and nuanced! Why in the world are your instructors — supposedly the best in the world — reducing cookies to a single class about baking chocolate chip and chocolate chip alone? Hell, why are cookies so sparse in the curriculum as a whole? You're never asked to bake them as a demonstration, or practice with them, and they're definitely not a given across everyone else's baking experience. Cakes, pies, and brownies... they're the default. Cookies are comparatively rare and when you do get to study them, everyone is super focused on the chocolate chip.

Then you graduate and head out into the world, only to find that pretty much everyone is as cookie-blind as your school. A few years back you never would have found cookies in the average grocery store and yeah, the fact that there's a cookie section now is great, but it's, uh... all chocolate chip! Many bakeries still don't carry cookies at all, but when they do it's - again - chocolate chip. Chocolate chip out in restaurants. Chocolate chip at the bake sale. Your friend invites you over and proudly presents a massive sweets tray that includes a single, sad looking, chocolate chip cookie. They beam at you in pride. Isn't it so great?

"Uh..." you say. "Well..."

Every once in a while someone will switch out milk chocolate for dark chocolate, or add nuts alongside chocolate chips. One bakery was even crazy enough to exclude chocolate chips entirely! Crazy according to the press, anyway. Because for years now you've been shaking your head, wondering what exactly is so progressive about realizing that sugar cookies exist. You've found other bakers interested in cookies and, by god, there are thousands. So many flavors! Gluten free and allergy conscious! Someone even made a sweets tray that was predominantly cookies, can you believe it? The problem is, almost none of them are mainstream. Your friend baking cookies out of their personal kitchen is doing fantastic work, but their baking doesn't have the impact that those grocery chains and established bakeries do. Their work isn't going to fix your school's curriculum. Too many people still think that cookies are exotic somehow. They're not the default. And when they do acknowledge their existence, it's chocolate chip over and over. Until one of them adds those nuts and suddenly the whole country is losing its mind about how inspired, creative, progressive their baking is. Meanwhile, you're ready to scream because that baker doesn't even know that something as "exotic" as a gingersnaps exist!

The worst part? Most of these cookies are... bad. Like they exist, yeah, but good god most don't taste good. And that's the whole point of a cookie?? What is the point of buying cookies if the cookies themselves are awful? You go to these bakeries, these restaurants, your friend's house, and you try the very limited cookies on offer, only to find that they've been sloppily baked. Doesn't anyone care that the baker burned their cookies to a crisp? That another straight up forgot to add sugar? This one dropped his on the floor and still tried to serve it to you! But the overall sense is that you should be grateful for getting any cookies at all. "That cookie is an offense to my taste buds," you say and people shake their head at you, disappointed. "I liked the taste of it," one says. "If you don't like it, go buy a different cookie!" Well... easier said than done. "It's not that bad," another says, shrugging in defeat. "I mean yeah, I don't really like it, and the baker stopped making them two years ago... but I'm just happy to have had any cookie at all, you know?" You do know, but that doesn't mean it's any less frustrating. You look at the hundreds of cakes available, these bakers spending decades perfecting their recipes, and wish cookies had even a fraction of that work put into them. You find people who agree with you, absolutely, but there's this this prevailing sense that a cookie is a cookie. Any cookie will do. Supposedly.

Except go long enough and you feel like you're ready to lose your mind. You take some poor person by the shoulders and go, "Doesn't this bother you? Doesn't this make you furious? There is more to the cookie world than these three flavors, 90% of which is chocolate chip! And we deserve well-made cookies, not the crap they've been upholding as the next culinary masterpiece!"

But this person just shakes their head. "Well of course there's more to cookies than three flavors. There's a huge variety of cookies! I know that."

"Yes, but the world isn't selling that variety."

"Of course they are! Just last week I had an oatmeal raisin. That's amazing!"

"Yeah and how many years did it take you to find that?"

"Well..."

"And how did that oatmeal raisin cookie taste?"

Your prisoner pulls a face. "Ugh, not good. Oatmeal raisin is definitely not for me. It's hard as a rock! I really don't understand why someone would want to eat that on a regular basis."

"But it's not supposed to be hard as a rock!" you cry, waving your arms. "That's the problem! Oatmeal raisin is so goddamn rare and then the one time we get it, it was badly baked. Of course people are turned off by it. Everyone who already loves oatmeal raisin is getting pissed because their favorite cookie is misrepresented, they're unlikely to see more of them now, and everyone is still serving the most tasteless chocolate chip cookies I've ever had, acting like this is the pinnacle of cookie baking! Do you even know that a macron exists?"

The person pats your hand consolingly. "Of course I do. My roommate's sister's boyfriend used to bake macrons, you know. I don't know why you're so hung up on this. Cookies can be whatever the baker wants them to be. Provided they're a flat-ish sweet cake, they're still a cookie!"

You hang your head, giving up. "Yes, they can be so many things, but they're not. Let me know if you ever find a bakery actually making the variety you keep acknowledging exists. Bonus points if those cookies are edible. My soul if they're delicious, as a cookie should be."

"You know," they say, still patting your hand. "There's a bakery making chocolate chip with dark chocolate next year. Everyone is talking about it. You should think about buying one before they take it off the menu!"

You contemplate just walking into the ocean.

Now, incredibly long metaphor concluded... switch out "cookies" for "queer rep"! The representation matters because no, just making them gay isn't enough right now. You're right that queer people can be anything under the sun, but right now media isn't providing us with that variety. It's not enough to acknowledge that such variety exists, it actually has to make it into our books and onto our screen. Taking just characters who identify as gay and putting aside the HUGE variety of other identities for a moment (of which we are mostly lacking in terms of rep), where are the gay asexuals? The gay people of color? The disabled gays? Trans gays? Did your gay character appear for just a handful of episodes? Were they killed off? Are they nothing more than a stereotype or comic relief? Is this the only gay character in your entire story? We need to ask questions like this because though gay people can be anything under the sun, our media landscape has only shown a miniscule portion of that variety.

Today, even in 2021, our representation of gay people is still pretty limited to:

You are only coded as gay and evil

You are only coded as gay and queerbaited

You are canonically gay, but a cis, ablebodied, white person

You are canonically gay, but were written terribly/killed off/punished by the narrative/generally making the real gay people watching you feel awful about their identity

You are canonically gay, but you're not human. Gotta other the queerness by making you an alien/robot/fantasy being

You are canonically gay and that's your entire existence. There is one (1) narrative of how you knew by the time you were four, never questioned your identity after that, suffered through a family that rejected you, and now all your major arcs revolve around being gay. You are gay and that is it.

Despite being a list of six, that's still incredibly limiting. Are there exceptions to such a list? Always, but that doesn't mean the list isn't still dominating. We can look at any individual gay character and say, "Of course they can be evil/white/killed off/a joke/etc. because gay people can be anything at all," but when we look at the trends, when we look at ALL the media together, we see that gay people aren't actually depicted as being anything... they're depicted as being these handful of things, severely limiting how gayness is represented. Bad rep. If you hit up the bakery and question why there's only versions of chocolate chip available yeah, the baker can go, "But cookies can be any flavor! Including chocolate chip!" They are not, technically, wrong. The problem is not that chocolate chip exists, but that chocolate chip dominates and other flavors are rare, ignored entirely, or baked so badly it's actively damaging to that flavor as a whole. Yeah, your gay character can be mean. Or kinky. Or murdered by the story. But when so many gay characters are mean and kinky and murdered by their stories — when you're not getting other versions to balance that out and gay characters are still rare enough that it's just 1-2 characters trying to carry representation for an entire franchise — you start realizing that the claim of "Gay people can be anything else under the human experience" is an easy way to shut down the conversation of whether that variety actually exists in our storytelling yet.

It's not enough for the baker to acknowledge that yeah, of course there are hundreds of cookie flavors and of course cookies taste great! They've actually got to learn how to bake them properly and fill up their store with them.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Is this a date? (Trey Clover x Aeppermint)

An example of a snipet (short story)! This one’s an OC x Canon Character. You can ask for OC x OC, Canon x Canon (maybe-) or Me with whoever (most likely platonic), or you / your OC with my OC / Me.

That’s all!

But this is really long tho- so- take your time- ^^

=============================================================

“Aepper?”

The peppermint boy stopped in his tracks, upon hearing a familiar voice calling for him.

(Hey, Trey.)

Aepper may look calm on the outside as he smiled sweetly at his best friend, but deep down, he was freaking out.

“Hey, I know this might be a little rude of me, but, I kind of heard your whole conversation with the headmaster at the library, and, I just want to ask

could I maybe tag along to your trip to the Rose Kingdom? I kind of miss home over there...and I wanted to buy some things over there!”

Ah, yes. Aepper did ask for Crowley’s permission to go out during the weekend. Being the headmaster’s contract bound, teenage butler certainly had their advantages.

Aepper was previously planning to go there by himself but... if it was Trey...

“Um, I’m not forcing you to let me tag along, though! So if you want to go alone, it’s also fi-”

Aepper abruptly took Trey’s hand, a vice grip from him.

Trey was taken aback. “Um..? Aepper??”

Aepper blushed, embarrassed of what he has done, before immediately letting go of Trey’s hand, awkwardly scratching his arm. He nodded.

“Great! I’ll see you then!”

=============================================================

“Hm? Who are..”

Trey squinted his eyes. He was waiting by the mirror, where Crowley instructed them to be, and the boy he saw wasn’t Aepper.

A boy with raven black hair that reflected back the green lights caused by the flickering, green flame candles in the room, red ruby eyes staring back at him. Wearing a red sweater and white collared shirt, the boy resembled nothing of Aepper.

Maybe except his face.

(It’s me, Aepper. I’m in disguise.), Aepper created a speech bubble with his unique magic.

Trey blinked at him before he finally understood. Aepper still holds a criminal record. If people were to find out, he’ll be arrested.

“Ah, I see!” 

Trey took his hand, completely oblivious he was reducing Aepper into a flustered mess.

“Let’s go to the mirror!”

=============================================================

“Crowley said we should be back by four in the evening using this teleportation hand mirror. Right now is..”

Trey rolled up his green jacket sleeves to check his watch.

“10 in the morning. Perfect!”

He turned to Aepper and smiled sweetly at him.

“Let’s go!”

Aepper blushed. He crushed on Trey that bad, huh? Going about the Rose Kingdom, the floors covered in cobblestone, the streets filled with boutique stores and quite isolated,

Aepper felt a little more at ease.

The only reason why his heart was beating so fast, was the fact he was hanging out with Trey. His crush. Outside. Together. Alone. Like they’re on a date.

Actually, Aepper wondered. Is this a date?

But then again, dates could be platonic, right? And he’s not even my boyfriend. We’re just friends.. Or, maybe he would confess to me soon? But, no, he wouldn’t want to confess to me, let alone have romantic feelings for me. But, there’s the possibility right?? What about....

And Aepper zoned out, clearly overthinking. His walking pace became slower, and soon Trey was walking in front of him,

but Trey himself was too distracted, quite excited on what to do first as he looked around at the stores.

Before Aepper knew, he bumped into something soft, but firm. And it was quite warm. As he snapped out of hi thoughts, he placed a hand on it, as he tries to process what was going on.

“Aepper?”

Oh.

Oh. 

Oh no.

Aepper bumped into Trey from behind. And what he was touching

was Trey’s back.

Aepper immediately pulled back, flustered as ever. He bowed down to Trey profusely as to apologize to him. It was so embarrassing.

“It’s okay, Aepper! It’s not your fault! I just didn’t see you there is all!”

If Aepper could do it without being already very embarrassed, he would have swoon of how kindhearted and forgiving the ivy green haired man was.

Furthermore, Aepper got a closer look at how fine his best friend was. Trey in a simple white turtleneck, with a green coat jacket over-

Trey could steal his heart without effort and without even knowing that he did.

No! Don’t think about that when he’s your best friend, Aepper scolded himself in his head, following Trey to where he was going.

=============================================================

This is not a date, Aepper reminded himself as he stepped into a small supermarket.

“Trey? Is that you??” A man around his 40s with a thick moustache, a round belly and wore and red and white stripped apron on as he looked at Trey in disbelief.

“Trey! It is you!”

“Hey, Mr Stan! Long time no see!”

The man named Mr Stan happily approached Trey, as he shook his hand eagerly.

“Man, oh man, Trey! You really grew up! Grown to be more handsome and tall, eh?”

“Ahahaha! I wouldn’t say handsome, but I did grew!”

No, he’s right. You’re deliciously handsome. Wait-

“How come you’re back home? Aren’t you suppose to be at NRC?”

“Well, my friend here,” Trey gestured at Aepper, “Ae- I mean, Abriel, has special opportunities, and was kind enough to let me tag along to come here!”

The only kindest one around is you, Trey

“Well, Abriel! Lucky to be friends with the eldest son of the Clover Family! I mean, they have Clover as their surname, what can I say?” Mr Stan bellowed, shaking Aepper’s hand.

You’re absolutely right. I’m lucky. Aepper simply smiled.

“Ah, he’s mute, so he can’t really speak.”

“No problem! Anyways, browse the store! Hope you find what ya lookin’ for!”

“Thanks a lot!”

=============================================================

Aepper was on the verge of exploding.

OKAY, THIS HAS TO BE A DATE, AT LEAST 70% OF THIS HOW DID WE WENT TO SHOPPING TO JUST SITTING AT HIS FAMILY’S BAKERY OUTSIDE LIKE IT’S A CUTE CAFE-

Currently sitting at a table, Aepper and Trey were at the family bakery of the Clovers and Aepper himself, was panicking.

This has to be a date, there was no way this isn’t.

Right?

Aepper couldn’t even eat the macrons and cake in front of him.

“Aepper! So, what do you think of my family?” Trey asked as he sips his rose tea from his tea cup, calmly asking Aepper whose heart was about to leap out of his chest.

(They’re nice. I like your siblings. They’re fun.) 

“Yeah, they are. Though, they can be quite a handful,” Trey chuckled softly, and Aepper could barely hold it.

There was a raging battle between his own strong, romantic feelings for Trey at the moment, and the only thing holding him back from just glomping down on Trey was his self control which was running thin by the second.

Every trivial thing Trey did seemed to make his resolve on not being flustered around was getting harder and harder.

This was so bad.

“Hey, Aepper?”

Aepper regain his cool (barely-) and looked at his best friend.

“Do you think... my family’s proud of me? I mean, I know I’m their son but..” Trey’s voice faltered, looking down at his teacup.

Well, Trey’s parents had many things to be proud of their oldest son. He’s a talented chef, the vice dorm leader of his own dorm, upholding good virtues and so much more Aepper could list down.

(Well, I think your parents have many things to be proud of you for. But, one thing you need to know, is that your family must be happy in whatever you do. They know you’re a talented person. But, no matter what, they will always support you, physically and emotionally.)

Trey stared at Aepper, before he smiled softly.

“Wow, Aepper. I didn’t know you think I was talented,” he smirked.

That smirk,

Aepper blushed tenfold and almost choked on his own saliva, coughing violently.

“OH GOD, AE- I MEAN ABRIEL-”

=============================================================

“Well, it’s about time to go,” Trey checked his watch.

“We should get back.”

Aepper simply nodded, leaning away from the wall of a narrow street, taking out the hand mirror teleporter.

“Hey, Aepper?”

The mute boy turned to his green haired friend.

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you, it was really fun. And I just want to say,” Trey paused.

Oh shit. OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT-

This was it, isn’t it? The confession he’s has been waiting for? WAIT HE’S NOT READY, GIVE HIM A FEW SECONDS! HE NEEDS TO-

“Thank you for being such a kind and caring friend, Aepper. I couldn’t ask for a better one!”

And just like that, Aepper’s hopes were dashed. Crushed. This is the sin he needs to bear for all the crimes he’s committed, isn’t it?

Aepper was lamenting on the inside, but manage to muster a kind smile flashed at Trey as he activated the hand mirror teleporter.

Although he didn’t get the confession he wanted, he was very thankful he got the chance to hang out with Trey outside of NRC.

[ao3bronte]

when chaos reigns [the sirens come to play]

A Merman AU. (Rated T with some suggestive language.) Now on AO3!

[Prologue]

Covid-19 and covert relationships don’t exactly go hand-in-hand these days, but you really shouldn’t be touching anyone’s hands right now anyway.

…that is, unless you don’t belong to the same species.

Can Merpeople catch Covid-19? That’s debatable, but news doesn’t exactly flow freely from the depths of the South China Sea. Though we know very little about Merpeople and their ways of life, we do know that they rarely interact with humans, preferring to tear down their ships and rip apart their dams and levies in revenge for poisoning the oceans and seas with their human fossil fuels. 

But this isn’t a story about environmental politics, or Covid-19 for that matter. This is a story about love and about putting aside differences. In this tale, Marinette discovers that the term ‘scalie’ (ou écailleux, car nous sommes en France) doesn’t always refer to the commonly known adjective to describe fish skin. And Adrien, bless his heart, really does need to put on clothes when he’s not rocking a fish tail despite the fact that he’d much rather be naked (much to Marinette’s mortification). Anyway you slice it, Merpeople and humans simply aren’t supposed to be together — they’ve always been sworn enemies through and through — but no matter what alternate universe we find ourselves in, these two idiots in love will always find each other.

This is, undoubtedly, their story.

[Part 1]

It’s the beginning of March and Tom and Sabine aren’t taking any chances with this whole virus situation. Marinette seems to catch everything — illnesses, hands, the whole nine yards — and they’d already been talking about sending her down to the Cote d’Azur to spend the summer with her grandmother Gina Dupain in order to get away from Paris for a little while. The constant schoolyard bullying from Chloé Bourgeois has dragged Marinette down so many pegs that Sabine is almost relieved to see Macron call off school for the foreseeable future and books both her daughter and her husband a trip to Marseille before the entire country shuts down for good.

Marinette isn’t happy, of course, but what teen would be? Her friends are in Paris! The fashion is in Paris! She doesn’t want to stay in some sleepy little Mediterranean village where nothing ever happens! Do they even have Wi-Fi there?

It’s a valid question. Tom doesn’t actually know, but he chatters enough for the two of them as the high speed train takes them down the rails to the south of France. Marinette’s sulk lightens a little as he pulls pastry after pastry out of his luggage in the hopes of making his daughter smile just a little before dropping her off with his mother — he knows that their relationship is a little strange after Gina’s last visit to Paris but there’s nothing a little quality time together can’t fix. 

Petite Befana is one of those places you find on a postcard. Situated just on the edge of France and Italy, the fishing village’s brightly coloured houses gleam in the sunlight, peppered with lemon trees and winding alleys that seem to almost spill out into the sea. The beaches are craggy and feature small grottos and coves of underground caves that glimmer with seaglass when the sun hits them just right, hiding a pocket sized oasis here and there for the adventurous who like to explore at low tide. Gina likes it here because of the Place du Marché, but Tom often wonders as to the real reason why she’s settled in the quaint harbour after years of Eat, Pray, Loving around the entire planet after divorcing his father.

She’s certainly made friends with every woman in town by the looks of it. Along with her veritable swarm of bar-hopping friends, Tom keeps seeing a woman with pointed features and deep black hair with a violent red streak in it pop up on her Facebook page. They always seem to be in the same jazz club, not that Tom is really paying attention; if his mother wants to spend her golden years drinking negronis and dancing with her girlfriends, that’s up to her.

They disembark the train in Marseilles and take a bus to Toulon, then another bus to Petite Befana. Marinette is passed out and drooling on his shoulder by the end of it so Tom does as he always does and hauls her up like a sack of flour through the thick and winding labyrinths of cobblestone streets towards his mother’s apartment. Gina greets them once he eventually finds the place and, after tucking Marinette into the daybed in the guest bedroom, happily guzzles down the proffered beer on the terrasse overlooking the sea.

“I’ll try to come down as often as I can,” Tom assures Gina, not knowing just how bad of a clusterfuck 2020 was about to become. “I’m sure Marinette will come to appreciate all that Petite Befana has to offer.”

“I’ll take her down to the market tomorrow morning,” Gina assures him, patting her son’s beefy forearms. “There’s an older woman who sells the most beautiful fabrics and I already dusted off my old sewing machine. That should keep her busy.”

“Marinette’s never happier when there’s a project to complete,” Tom responds with relief, downing the rest of his Kronenbourg. “I bet she’ll have an entire closet full of clothes by the time the month is out.”

“And it should only take a month or two for this to blow over.” Gina jabs her thumb towards the television as the news of Covid-19 murmurs in the background amid the waves of the Med on the shore. “And then we’ll be back to normal before you know it!”

(...and we all know how that turned out.)

[Part 2]

Covid-19 affects a lot of people in a lot of different ways. Some feel stir crazy. Others enjoy the alone time. But Marinette? Well, she’s been trapped in the harbours of Petit Befana for three weeks now and our aforementioned heroine is already bored out of her skull. She’s made three dresses, four satchels and twenty two scrunchies with the leftover fabric because what else is there to do down here? Luckily, Covid-19 hasn’t quite affected Petite Befana like it has the other regions of France and Marinette is able to go outside at least...not that she wants to. 

There are more artisanal bakeries and charcuterie shops in Petite Befana than there are nightclubs and high end boutiques, which is odd for a village so beautifully situated on the coast of southeast France. Gina proudly boasts that her new home is often bypassed by the glitz and glam of Monaco; lavish superyachts and the seemingly endless stream of paparazzi prefer the glamour and uberwealth just west of their little village, leaving its sleepy inhabitants mostly alone to sell their goods to the tourists that stop by for a night on their bicycles and scooters. Marked with the Italian influences of its neighbour, Petit Befana truly is the little-known last stop on the famous Cote d’Azur which makes it an inspiring landscape for Marinette to discover…

...for all of four days. 

She’s already so over Covid-19 and, like any teenager, she’s getting more and more annoyed by the day that she can’t hang out with her friends! Why did Maman and Papa send her down here?! All she wants to do is get back to Paris and design! It’s not like there’s anything fun to do here anyway, besides play video games all day in her bedroom; the only places that offer free WiFi are closed and she can only play Animal Crossing for so long before her grandmother insists on making her get some fresh air. 

Ugh! 

Grumbling under her breath, Marinette pulls on her raincoat and stomps down the laneway from the terrasse towards the sidestreet where her grandmother’s 1920’s bastide-style home resides. From the cobbled alley, Marinette watches the colourful array of fishing boats land their day’s catch right up on the harbourfront and heads down despite the storm clouds brewing on the horizon.

“Bonjour!” A group of older men wave as she makes her way down the ancient steps, the pathway shaded by thick palms and cacti. She pauses just long enough to ask who’s winning their game of socially distanced pétanque before continuing her way through the pines towards the gravel and sand beaches that line the shore. 

The seafront is mostly boarded up, much to both Gina’s and Marinette’s disdain. Her grandmother used to spend most of her evenings at the jazz bar La Sirena with her friends, not that Marinette got to meet any of them. The lockdown shuttered pretty much everything the day after she kissed Papa goodbye and settled into her new life for the next month, but with three weeks already stretching into four, Marinette dejectedly wonders if she’ll ever see Paris again.

Passing the last brasserie on the boardwalk, Marinette leaves civilization for the long stretches of barren coastline. There’s all sorts of little inlets and grottos here and there, especially as she gets closer and closer to the Italian border. Unfortunately, it’s only April, which means it’s rainy, generally unpleasant and completely and utterly empty on the beach.

“No one to talk to, nothing to do…” Marinette sighs and tries to kick a piece of driftwood, only to miss it with her foot in true Marinette style. The faux pas — quite literally — sends her screaming and flailing her arms like an octopus on a ceiling fan as she dramatically plummets face first onto the wet, slimy gravel.

She groans and pushes herself up on her hands and knees, wincing as sea-weathered stones dig into her palms and kneecaps. Marinette is, above all, a walking disaster in every sense of the word — sometimes she wonders if the powers that be seek out to deliberately punish her with embarrassing things like this on purpose for their own amusement. 

(ಸ_ಸ … *cough* Zag *cough*)

Marinette whimpers as she wipes chunks of seaweed and brownish foam off her cheeks and chin. At least no one was around to see her fall over — thank god — but she’ll still have to do the laundry when she gets home. She’s covered in muck and little bits of oily slime that are sure to stain if she doesn’t wash it out soon. Marinette grimaces as she tries to shake it off of her hands; humans really have done a number on the seas and oceans...like, why is her front so sticky? She glances at some of the garbage on the shore as she sits on her haunches and wonders if the news has it all wrong. Maybe the merpeople taking potshots at rich people on yachts with old cans and plastic sea trash really do have the moral upper hand…

Marinette, being Marinette, would have continued to stare dazed and confused into space well into the afternoon had it not been for the impossibly shiny something or other sparkling in the grotto straight ahead.

[NEXT PART...]

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Two

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

You're apprehensive the first few days. Peering over your shoulder when you walk through the halls of the Duke's estate. You often find yourself fiddling with the only real possession you have remaining from the entire ordeal - a silver locket given to you by your mother, it hasn't stood the test of time, it's littered in small scratches and it's clearly seen better days. Neither does it shine the way it used to but you need it to feel at ease.

Currently, sitting in the estate's library you attempt to focus on reading the book in front of you. It details the life of an orphaned child, the rest of the plot is a blur to you as this task is not done with the intent of enjoying the literature but with the purpose of distracting yourself.

You've been avoiding Duke Ackerman for days on end now. He's made the occasional visit to your quarters, always politely asks if he's permitted to speak to you - allowed to take even a second of your precious time. You decline every single request, your excuses range from "I'm feeling particularly ill today." to"I would like to rest early.", He never inquires after you've responded. You do however find he communicates in a variety of different ways ; Meals of the finest standard, A luxurious place to live, the maids also offer you the opportunity to venture out into the beautiful gardens but you know he's asked them to do so.

Quite frankly, you're still petrified and are unable to fathom what happened that fateful day, you had never been one to put much faith in God especially after all he had put you through, but maybe there was a God or a higher being or a somebody who helped you in your moment of despair.

Eyes darting from your page to the door of the library, you swear you see the door knob twist and you hastily double take. Nothing looks out of the ordinary so you allow yourself to shake it off. Your eyes droop shut as you knead your shoulders attempting to relieve some of the tension you feel. Recently, you find it to be an ordinary occurrence for your muscles to seize at the worst possible opportunities.

"May I speak to you?" A beaming voice enters the room from behind you but never had such a cheerful voice made you freeze in fright. It's him.

At his appearance you begin to think of all sorts of scenarios and outcomes but the specific thought you've been actively ignoring slyly slips into view. What if the spell weakens?

Fate is an ever changing entity, one minute it may be in your favour, the next... you'd rather not delve any deeper into that alternative.

Jumping to your feet you don't look in his direction trying to keep the contact you have with him minimal.

He audibly huffs and just as you're about to scurry away he speaks again. "Halt your movements."

Something about his voice beckons you to do so and you anxiously face him.

"Did I come off too bold?" The expression he makes is unlike any other you've seen from him before. His eyes twinkle and it looks as if he's holding his breathe expectantly. It's almost comical how different he looks and you can't stop your cheeks from flushing. He's quite adorable under this spell.

But then a flashback is presented to you. The anger in his eyes, the cold feeling of his sword, if he were any closer he would have been swiftly slicing your neck open. Y/N, you were seconds away from becoming a corpse you remind yourself fiercely.

"I'm not doing very well at courting you, Am I?" He frowns as he asks but he's not upset, perhaps disappointed.

Looking at the floor you hear him bombard you with even more questions, he's crowding around you now like a swarm of bees - somehow he manages the job of an entire hive on his own. No one has ever taken such an interest in you.

Your conscience tells you that you will regret this later on down the line, it tells you this will come back and bite you incredibly hard, you will regret being so ignorant and trusting yet you yield. Is it so wrong for you to consider feeling affection? When the Duke snaps out of this spell he will promptly execute you and you're aware of that fact, so what reason is there to cower away in fear?

For all your life you have never experienced the true feeling of love. You had mother's maternal love, which hadn't lasted very long at all. Never would you have any other opportunity to experience the romantic intimate kind involving a significant other. If you were to die you may as well play the role of his wife for as long as this spell wills it. Perhaps he'll receive his memories back so late he forgets or simply no longer cares. Part of you hopes he doesn't remember at all.

"Would you like to..." you pause already regretting what you're doing but before you can continue the Duke cuts you off.

"Have tea together? Explore the gardens together?"

What really sticks out to you most is how he casually emphasizes the word together. He really doesn't care what activity you engage in as long as it's with him. You feel your heart twist in your chest. This is dangerous.

He's eager, leaning forward with wide eyes. It feels odd having someone care about your input, even more odd seeing that person smile at you with the same spirit of an elated child. It's bittersweet knowing his true character.

"Let's have some tea."

A few months have passed since then. Surprisingly you're still alive and the spell shows no signs of wearing away any time soon.

After the raid at your palace he's been nothing but sweet towards you. At first many people were against him courting you and a handful of his advisors attempted to steer his sights away due to suspicions and speculation that you were a "sinful witch" who had manipulated or even seduced him.

The day he had heard those rumors he caused an uproar and had fired the royal advisor who spread them around. "Impertinent fools have the audacity to make such comments about my Duchess." You would usually add in you were not worth such respect considering you were not officially a Duchess but the fiery blaze in his eyes had stopped you.

"Hey Lev, lets go have some tea they've learnt their lesson." You shot the gossiping maids a sympathetic look.

Being under the spell does not make him more tolerable towards other people is what you learnt that day.

Multiple women all with visuals worlds more appealing than your own approach him, some even sent by his advisors to set you up. They test if his love is strong enough to withstand the attacks of others. Time and time again he proves everyone wrong and doesn't think for a second to give up on you.

You're glad for that because through these few months you've ascertained how much you love the Duke for who he is. Well, who he's acting as. You want to slam your head against a concrete wall repeatedly when you think about the level of affection and tenderness you hold towards the man but you can not lie and say you hate him.

The fact that before meeting him you lived a life lacking of love and affection does not help your case either. It only makes it harder.

But it's painfully obvious to you that this is all truly one sided. You aren't really in love with the Duke but you're in love with the magic holding him hostage.

You share these thoughts to yourself as you take a short sip from your tea cup. Sasha has left the room to fetch some pastries and sweets. She takes her job seriously as head maid (you never address her as such because really she's just a friend to you). It's a chilly day hence why you've covered yourself up in a shawl, it coincidentally matches the beige drapes.

Suddenly a boy who you recognize to be one of the young apprentices by the name of Eren bursts through the doors of your tea room. His hair is all over the place and he's panting as he tries to formulate a sentence.

"Duke." Puff. " Duke Ackerman" Puff. "Refuses to return to the Imperial Palace and is threatening the Emperor stating he won't return to his duties!"

You ignore it and try to keep to your own affairs because who are you to interfere in military business? It's looked down upon to involve yourself in such matters.

You send him off and in the mean time Sasha makes her way back.

A few minutes later as the both of you are munching on a particularly sweet macron the palace's butler bursts in the same way as Jaeger and tries to get a word in but Sasha manages to interject first.

"My lady, perhaps you should check in on the Duke." she suggests.

You try to speak but the Butler cuts in abruptly.

"Duchess. I'm afraid he hasn't ate a meal in five days. Please talk to him."

"Mike there is no need to call me a Duchess when I hold no such title...wait the Duke hasn't ate for five days???"

You find it unbelievable that Levi has forgotten to eat or possibly starved himself for something.

Making your way to his office you enter with a speech prepared about how eating is one of the blessings you've been given and how it should be appreciated but instead you're met face to face with a trail of rose petals that lead to the Duke.

You stare at him in confusion. He holds a bouquet of roses in his hands and they kiss his chest, He gives you a look of admiration that can only be described as the look that is reserved for your one true love. His eyes glimmer and they shine along with his glossy raven hair. You look him up and down in astonishment.

He's arranged all this for you.

"I'd do anything to have you be by my side for all of eternity. Will you honor me with the opportunity of taking your hand?"

Just looking at this entirely different version of the Duke, you feel relieved and in the moment you recklessly accept his proposal. You know it's stupid, you know it's ignorant, you know you should be denying him but you can't make yourself ignore the will of your heart.

"I hope to live a long life. One with you present." he whispers into the shell of your ear, it tingles.

After weeks of the Duke's courting you accept his marriage proposal and the both of you quietly wed two months later.

He's so kind and affectionate that you're plagued with nightmares where the spell wears off.

In your nightmares he continues what he left unfinished. Every time he's about to plunge his sword into the depths of your chest he wakes you up and caresses your face in between his large hands. He wraps his arms around you after some time. Once your breathing relaxes he asks what has made you cry and you can't do anything to explain. It only hurts more seeing his concerned expression. The way his eyes flick between your eyes and trembling lips, you want to tell him the truth, instead you state that you"had a nightmare, and don't wish to talk about it." You don't want him asking questions over it.

It's another Wednesday and you're pacing back and forth in front of his office door arguing with yourself about whether or not you should enter. Finally, you decide to make your entrance and peek inside. You hear him arguing with his advisors as normal.

"Instead of blithering like a idiot and making excuses why don't yo-" he's midway through his sentence when he sees you at the doorway.

Dropping the previous matter he rushes over towards you and scoops you up in his arms. Smiling up at you, you smile back sheepishly ignoring the stares of his staff.

"Honey, why did you leave me? Where did you go?" He whines into your neck and you try to push him away shyly but he won't budge.

Everyone around you grimaces at his usual mood swings as well as the heavy flirting that he's targeting at you.

"You haven't come to eat dinner with me for three nights. You're the workaholic who left me." You swiftly retort his point and you pout at the end of your sentence. He pouts back and you can see his cheeks are tinged a blushed pink.

"Then we must dine immediately, you should have informed me that I had made you feel so neglected, my darling!"

After making your way to the dining room you and Levi are conversing happily as per usual when you spot his highly agitated secretary Mikasa. It settles in that she's been standing there for a considerable amount of time, time flies when you and Levi speak. She's clearly waiting for him to report back to duty.

The first time you had met Mikasa she was highly suspicious of you and would keep an eye on your movements at all times (literally) , you thought she perhaps fancied the Duke but later learnt that she was related to him and that was probably why she was on edge at the appearance of a new individual. Besides all that she's sweet really, sometime she joins you and Sasha for tea and you happily converse. She isn't much of a talker, more of a listener which works out well considering how extroverted Sasha is and how you love to story tell. You've shared many fond memories with her.

That's why you place a hand on Levi's shoulder and interrupt him.

"Why don't you return to your work? It's about time I send you back now." You suggest but he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Why do you keep on trying to get rid of me? I want to stay for a little longer. After all you are my wife. You count as one of my duties. If not the most important duty of all!" He's about to break out into one of his embarrassing speeches and you want to save Mikasa from that.

"Mikasa really needs you to complete your other duties. Do it for me Lev." You try and butter him up with the mention of his nickname. As expected he perks up and stands up to leave, not before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Ah Lev, I'll be taking a short trip out today. Is that alright with you?"

You don't specify that 'out' means the Sunday Market place, he'll ask question after question.

He holds onto your chin with his thumb and leans in for a chaste kiss.

"Of course my darling. Be careful."

He giddily waves at you as he leaves and you wave back with the same enthusiasm. You giggle at the sight of Mikasa practically gagging at the two of you and glaring daggers at Levi.

The door then shuts and you're left alone.

All that accompanies you is silence and you purse your lips together trying to keep it together. Recently as soon as he turns away from you all you can think about is how this love of his is a hoax.

He doesn't really love you.

That doesn't stop all the sweet words he's ever uttered from flooding your memory.

"You're mine and I'm yours."

"My beautiful love."

"I love you I mean it." It hurts. He doesn't mean it.

But you'll keep the charade up. You'll find a way to keep him this way forever. It's selfish but you can't be blamed, It keeps you safe and happy.

Love is nice but you would prefer to live.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste ch. 1-2

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi's Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we're all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone's well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila's brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: Gabriel decides that Adrien entering a romantic relationship is a good move for the brand. He chooses Lila Rossi as the other half. Adrien nopes tf out.

Notes: I was gonna have it be a slow acceleration, but Adrien was all “Go big or go home.” Also trying to find motivation to write more of this fic.

AO3 link

----------

“No,” Adrien growled. “Absolutely not!”

Lila made a show of crying, not that anyone in the room believed her tears were real.

Gabriel frowned at him from his desk. “This will be good for the brand—”

“Fuck the brand!”

“Adrien! This is unbecoming. You will be seen to be dating Ms. Rossi. That is final.”

Adrien’s fists were so tight he was sure he had crescents eating into his palms. “Like hell it is! I will not date that—” he gestured at Lila “—lying cow. Not after how she’s hurt my friends.”

Said girl gasped, outraged, and Adrien was glad to see she actually looked truly upset.

His father stood, but kept his voice emotionless, calm, self-assured that he would capitulate. “Cease this ridiculous teenage rebellion.”

He saw red, but oddly it calmed him. “Father, you have not seen teenage rebellion,” he said, his voice almost terrifyingly calm. “But I would be happy to teach you what it looks like if you try to force me to do this.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Adrien could see him considering that, but then discarding it. “It will be in the papers tomorrow. If you misbehave, you’ll no longer be permitted to go to school.”

Adrien snorted. He knew more ways to escape this house than his father could possibly anticipate—some he’d made himself, even. “Good luck, Gabe. You’re going to need it.”

He spun on his heel before his father could respond and slammed the door behind him. With the enhanced strength he had as the Black Cat Miraculous chosen, the wood cracked audibly.

As he made his way back to his room, he realized the opportunity his father had just placed in his lap. As the face of the brand, Adrien had more power than Gabriel seemed to realize. It was time to stretch those muscles.

He had planning to do.

---------

His father had spectacularly good timing for pulling this kind of stunt—for Adrien, anyway. He’d heard from a couple of friends of his that a certain rock star was in town. And if anyone was up for promoting teenage rebellion, Adrien had no doubt it would be Jagged Stone.

It was child’s play to sneak out of the house. He didn’t even have to transform to do it. From there it was just making his way to the Grand Paris Hotel. The staff assumed he was there to see Chloé, so getting in was no problem. Jagged Stone always rented the same suite, so that wasn’t an issue, either.

The hard part, he knew, would come after he knocked on the door.

Jagged opened the door, and then peered at him suspiciously.

“Um, M. Stone, I don’t know if you remember me but—”

The rock star suddenly broke into a wide grin. “Oh, you’re Marinette’s model friend, right?”

Adrien blinked. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. His rock idol knew him?

Sadly, he had no time to fanboy.

“Yes, Adrien. I was wondering if I could trouble you for some help?”

And so that was how Adrien Agreste wound up sitting in Jagged Stone’s suite, petting Fang, and telling him about the woe that was the obsession his father had with Lila Rossi, Liar Extraordinaire.

“She said I had a what?”

“A kitten. And she got Marinette expelled and is just being really awful to her.”

Jagged opened a cell phone. “Penny, I need you. Yes, I know I sent you for macrons, but this is really important. Bring my niece with.”

When he was finished, he turned to Adrien again. “We’ll get that taken care of.”

“That’s not all, M. Stone.”

He pressed forward, telling his idol of the relationship he was being forced into and his promise to show Gabriel Agreste just what he could do if he really rebelled.

When he was done, Jagged’s face was gleeful in an almost terrifying way.

“Oh, please tell me I get to help with this?” At Adrien’s nod the man whooped in excitement. “Brilliant. Once my niece gets here, we’ll plan properly. She’s a planner, that one. Smart as a whip.”

Adrien blinked. “Your niece?”

“Marinette, of course! Honorary niece.”

His jaw dropped. Marinette had always had the upper hand on Lila, could call in Jagged at any moment to destroy her, and had held back. He never should’ve stopped her.

“My father can’t know she helped. He’s got so much power in the fashion industry, and I don’t want to hurt her career.”

Jagged waved away his concerns. “Mate, listen. From what I understand you’re the face of that company. You have the power, not him. Get you in some Marinette originals, and he can’t undo the fame that’ll bring her.”

Adrien hadn’t considered that. “I just don’t want her hurt.”

He heard the door open, and then a soft, “Adrien?”

It meant he had to explain the situation all over again, letting Jagged Stone assure her that he was going to pop the liar’s kitten whopper as soon as possible.

“I can stop by your school with Fang, yeah? They can’t keep me from saying hi to my favorite niece.”

Marinette bit her lip. “That would be helpful, but for Adrien…”

Adrien smiled. “I want you to design me a new look. Something we can do here and now—maybe with the discrete help of some of the hotel staff, since they have that nice spa and such. Hair dye, new clothes. Maybe some fake piercings. Oooh, a fake tattoo?”

Jagged glanced at Penny, who looked uncertain about this. “Don’t be a party pooper, Penny.”

“His father might sue you,” she pointed out.

“Like I care. I have money.” He grinned. “And for what? Giving his kid a makeover?”

“French law—”

“Nope, don’t care. It’s happening. Get his sizes and go to my favorite stores. Adrien, what color scheme?”

Adrien blinked. He hadn’t thought that far. He glanced at Marinette. “Um, do you think Chat Noir would mind if I used his colors? I think of him when I think teenage rebellion.”

That was more because being Chat Noir had up to this point been his way of rebelling, but she didn’t need to know that.

To his surprise, Marinette grinned, the smile wide enough to match Jagged’s. “Oh, I like that idea. Chains and spikes? Fake lip ring and septum?”

“Absolutely!”

Jagged made a shooing motion at Penny, who rolled her eyes and headed toward the door, before joining in. “Now how about this idea: black and neon green hair, done to look like a skunk’s stripes!”

Adrien was surprised to find himself laughing honestly at the idea. He’d been so angry less than an hour ago, but this was truly fun. “This makes me think of those J-Rock bands, how they used to dress up.”

Jagged’s phone let out a guitar riff and he glanced at it. “Oh, right. Penny needs your measurements. Shoe size, too. Definitely some stomping boots, I think.”

He handed over his unlocked phone for Adrien to text.

“I’ll call the salon, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, texting the information, then froze. ���Wait, Chloé might tell my father.”

That got a laugh. “Nah. They’re discrete. They bring everything up here for me—I won’t be around people if I’m getting my hair dyed.”

While Jagged made the call, Adrien finished the text. When he looked up, Marinette was watching him. She turned pink when she realized he’d caught her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked after a moment.

He sighed, slumping back on the sofa and resting his hand on Fang’s head again. “No, but I don’t have any better ones. That stupid news claiming I’m with Lila’s going to hit tomorrow. And I’m so done with this, with him treating me like I’m property.”

Marinette looked worried, and he tried to muster up a smile. From her expression, he didn’t manage it.

“Maybe…” she started, then trailed off.

“Maybe?”

She didn’t look at him. “Maybe you should look into laws involving child labor and parental responsibility. You… you might be able to get emancipated.”

That startled him—something he hadn’t even thought of before. He hadn’t even been aware it was an option.

When Marinette did look at him, her eyes were stormy. “He’s so… cruel to you. Maybe there’s legal recourse.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured. That seemed like such a drastic measure. “I don’t know if I want to go that far.”

She nodded, and he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Plagg shot out of his pocket the moment the door was closed. “I’m so proud of you kid. This is gonna be great!”

“Thanks, Plagg.”

The kwami grabbed the proffered wedge of camembert.

“And think about what Pigtails said. Your dad’s a real piece of work, and you deserve better.”

“I will.”

Adrien could feel the idea turning over in his mind, as though gathering strength. When he left the bathroom, Jagged met him excitedly.

“I have just the idea! A temporary face tattoo!”

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses part three

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Events in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship.

Warning: this passage contains some drunken shenanigans, heavy petting, making out, self deprecating humor, stripping down to ones underwear, sexual frustration, some insecurities, and angst. Oh and the beginning of Elizabeth showing her dominant side. If I missed anything please let me know

Word count: 2500

A/N: If you read it and like it, it would mean a lot to me if you could say something nice!

“And what will the lady be having?” The handsome bartender asked from behind the wooden top.

“Gentleman Jack, two fingers, neat. Please and thank you.” Elizabeth had her face all smooshed up in her hands, cradling her own head, resigning to the feeling of utter defeat. Gregory Chapman had called her and told her that the movie had lost its funding. The promises he made her were now as empty as the glass in front of her. As was her bank account. At least the bartender quickly remedied the empty glass problem. Henry saw her sitting there, her perfect posture was replaced by the pose of someone who wanted to be as small as possible.

“Oh shit, you are taking the news way harder than I thought you would. I also had no idea you liked whiskey.” He saw that her eyes were puffy, she had rubbed the winged eyeliner tip off on one of her eyes. He took the hand closest to him and gave her a gentle squeeze. The best part of having had their lessons was they had grown comfortable with touching each other. He appreciated the intimacy they shared, even if he though it had been platonic on her part. “Cancellations happen pretty often, don’t beat yourself up too much.”

“You were getting so good too.” Her voice came out as a whine, she took a sip of her liquor.

“I was mediocre at best, I just happen to look good while you dance around me.” The gold tinged light above them made her eyes and the drink the same color. Everything about her right then seemed angelic to him, even with her sad expression she glowed. “My only regret is that I won’t get to see you as much. I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

“That is very kind, Henry.” Elizabeth laced her fingers with his. “It was a pleasure to teach you.”

I love how she says my name, he thought. “So, what happens next for you?”

“I have to work harder to try to keep my dance studio open.”

“What do you mean? You have some great teachers, you have full classes.”

“Greg had told me that once he was given the funding he planned on investing in the dance studio with some of his earnings. I’m not sad about the movie being canceled, I’m just sad that this is just one more thing to have gone wrong this year...” she trailed off.

“Want to talk about it?”

“If I start, I will not shut up, I’m sure you don’t want to listen to me bitch and moan for an hour. Don’t you have more important things to be doing?”

“I could listen to you complain all night. Besides, nothing is more important than us getting drunk and possibly finding people to snog with tonight,” he said with the intention of making her laugh, but with a quick look around the pub, it looked like the their options would be limited. “I bet you could charm the pants off that lad at the end there.”

The lad was an older gentleman wearing a newsboy hat and a sweater with patches on the elbow.

“Oh Mr Cavill,” she said in a dreamy, playful voice, “he’s just my type. Do you think he’ll like me?”

“I don’t know Ms Rosehill, you might have to show him a little clevage.”

She pretended to pull the top of her dress down a little, big shit eating grin on her face, “How’s that? Better? Oh please, sir, notice me. Please come tap my ass like a keg!”

The remark caused Henry to choke on his drink. After a deep gasp of air he looked at her incredulously “never mind, you’ll kill the man. Give him a heart attack talking like that.”

The two talked, Elizabeth told him about how earlier that year she had gone through a bitter divorce, her ex had left her with more debt than she would be able to handle by herself and then her mother had passed away. She felt like she was drowning and the first life raft that had been thrown her way was being pulled from her.

“But you know what? I am a pretty damn good swimmer, and my momma didn’t raise no bitch.” She stated. She sat back sagaciously for a moment, “I think that might be the whiskey talking.”

Henry chuckled to himself. They were both a few drinks deep into their conversation and she was feeling it. He paid their tab and took her with him, “Come on, you lightweight, let’s go put some food in you so you don’t black out on me.”

Trying to get the teacher to do anything while she had been drinking was like trying to get a cat to cooperate. Every time they walked for more than a few minutes, she would wonder off some where distracted by anything that caught her attention. He stood there the fourth time when she stopped to look at display of macrons in a window.

“Are you like this every time you drink?”

“No, only when I forget to eat during the day before hand, I’m so hungry, I would perform unspeakable acts if I could get my hands on some fried pickles right now. Are those even a thing here?”

“Fried… pickles?” He responded moderately concerned for her sanity. “Why?”

“Do you want the drunk answer or the athlete answer?”

“Both. Oh my god woman, would you get off of that. You are like the worst version of the worst mission in video games. No, no, no, you wrap your arm around mine right now, I will get you food, I promise. Stay with me, Lizzie, tell me about the pickles.”

“Drunk answer is that they taste good, you know what takes a sandwich from eh to great. Pickles.” She tucked her arm right into his, with his other hand gently resting on top of her arm ready to guide her along. “Athlete answer is that they help re-hydrate you, after work outs, after drinking. Drinking pickle juice always cures my hangovers. Although chips work too, especially with salt and vinegar.”

They found a place still open that was serving delicious smelling fried food. He was together enough to set her down on a curb. “Please stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She leaned against him as soon as he sat down and handed her their snack. It was beginning to get late and a chill in the autumn air was starting to creep in. “You called me Lizzie earlier, I haven’t been called that since I was a little girl.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you still are a little girl. Well, compared to me anyways.” He nudged her with his elbow a little to get a smile out of her. “I hope you don’t mind, I won’t call you that again if you hate it.”

“It is totally fine, I’ve gone by Liz, Lizzie, Lizbeth, Beth. Just please don’t call me Libby. My middle name is Louisa, my ex would call me Libby-Lou, knowing how much I hated that nickname. Made me feel like I should be living in Whoville, waiting for the Grinch to steal my Christmas dinner.”

“They can be the worst, ex’s. They always know where they can jab at you with a mean joke or poke at an insecurity. One of mine would make comments about what I was eating, especially if I was between jobs.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and felt her whole body shiver.

“I’m sorry, you never deserved that.” She said softly. He looked into her eyes, the eyeliner had somehow gotten more smudged, she looked as exhausted as she sounded.

“No, neither did you. I don’t know what all he did to you, but you deserve better too.” His voice came out low and husky. “Do you want to come back to my place, I live pretty close by and you look like you are about to freeze.”

“I don’t know, Mr Cavill, I seem to remember you mentioning something about finding someone to make out with tonight, will I find one there?”

With the straightest face he could possibly muster, “As long as you don’t eat all of my pickles.”

***

A twenty minute walk later, they were in Henry’s home. They were both greeted by a very excited Kal, who snuffled and snorted at his daddy’s new friend. A warm welcoming glow came from the living room where the lights had been left on for his dog. He offered her one of his hoodies to help her warm up and planted her on the couch so he could take his boy to do his business outside. He came back as quick as he, honestly expecting to find her asleep. Instead, she was looking at him with her whiskey colored eyes. He had wanted another drink, and brought them both another glass of the liquor. He sat down at the other end of the couch, trying to respect her space. “Are you comfortable, can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m warming up well, thank you. You have a beautiful home, it’s nice and cozy.”

“Thank you, I like it here a lot, it is just enough for me. And Kal, for that matter.” His furry buddy was pressing as much of himself against the spot Elizabeth sat on the couch. She was delicately rubbing the area between his eyes and cooing at big beast, his fluffy tail wagging happily. “I think he likes you.”

“Oh good, I’m glad His Lordship approves of me.” She moved her hands to rub his chin. “You are just a big softy aren’t you? Good man, Kal.”

Henry watched them get acquainted, allowing himself to melt into the couch, legs spread apart. She turned her attention to the beautiful man before her. Maybe the booze was making her feel more bold than usual, but damn did she want him. Her mind was still swimming from their earlier adventure. Hopefully, it was an invite to climb between his powerful thighs. She shot back her glass and put the empty cup on his side table. He reached over to her and pulled her close. She positioned herself to face him and straddled his lap. His breath caught in his throat for a moment.

“If I’m being to presumptuous, I can stop. I will go sit on the other side again.” She said quietly.

“No, I want this. I want you.” He reached up, fingers were gently touching the back of her arms.

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, “Before you... we… whatever it is here that we are doing, I need you to know that I don’t know what all I can give to you right now. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I think you are worth the risk,” he whispered to her and they connected.

Henry had wanted this from the first time he placed her hands on him. Every nudge, posture correction, hand offered to help him, whenever he felt her skin on his he felt the current between the two of them and it was electrifying. He felt himself grow hard as she invited him to explore her body. His hoodie was off was off of her body as soon as they started, and then shortly after came her black dress. They continued to make out as she unbuttoned his soft flannel shirt.

He fingers searched the back of her bra for it’s clasp. She broke off their kiss long enough to lean back and unhook it from the front. Henry could feel the pressure building in his jeans as he looked at her body.  All she had left on were knee high black boots and a pair of silky purple panties. Elizabeth gave him a lopsided smile as she leaned back into their embrace. Her fingers danced and tickled down his chest running down to to the bottom hem of his shirt. Henry stopped himself before she removed the cotton undershirt, ever so gently. “Before I take this off, I want you to not be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t look like Geralt right now. I’m in my off season, and I don’t know what kind of expectations you have...” Elizabeth slowly ran her hands back up his chest.

“I like you, Henry: your beautiful, overthinking, intelligent mind; your sweet nature; your burning passions. You as a person.” peppering his neck and face with tender kisses, her hands tangling in his hair. “Everything else is just sprinkles on a cupcake.”

“Sprinkles on a cupcake?” he smiled. She nibbled on his ear and he moaned, hungry for more.

“Cupcakes don’t need sprinkles to be delicious, I have never refused a cupcake because it didn’t have sprinkles on it.” She ran her fingers back down to the bottom of his shirt. “So, Mr Cavill, do I have permission to take your shirt off?”

“Yes, Ms Rosehill, you do.” The woman on top of him pulled the garment off, never breaking eye contact. After it’s removal, she kept a firm grip on his arms, inching ever closer to his wrists. With her hands on them, Elizabeth pressed her weight against his wrists and pinned him as best she could to the back of the couch. She ground her pelvis against his as she started nibbling and kissing his neck, her torso against  his. Appreciating the nuzzling and nibbles on his neck, he closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for her to continue.

All he felt was her soft breathing against his skin. A moment later her hands dropped from his wrists. Henry tried to move himself to see what what was going on when a soft snore came from his would be lover. He rubbed his face, not believing what had just happened.

“Liz… Lizzie… wake up, sweetheart.” He tried kissing her cheek to wake her. The only response she gave was tucking her arms to her chest and adjusting her head on his shoulder. He groaned, but knew what he had to do. Elizabeth was as limp as a rag doll, so he guided her arms through his flannel shirt, placed her down gently on the couch and prepared his guest room for her. Making sure his warmest duvet was on the bed, he left a bottle of water and some Tylenol on the bed side table for her. He carried her to the room and tucked her into bed, making sure a pillow was wedged behind her back to keep her on her side.  Henry then went to his room, fell face first into bed and yelled directly into a pillow. 

[elvisausten]

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Men Suck No Matter the Nation - Emily in Paris Episode 2 Recap (Spoilers!!)

Poster from IMDB

First of all, where the hell did Emily get this French-teaching rosetta-stone thing she is listening to? It tells her, “my name is Marc” should be “mon nom est Marc,” which, while a direct translation, is not correct French, and if she used it that way, any French person would laugh in her face.

Anyway, the episode starts with her running again (I hate people who run. Get over yourselves.) She quickly stops to fat shame some artwork and then returns to her building where she somehow goes to the wrong apartment again. She’s so stupid, and I hate her. This show is fantastic.

She steps in dogshit (which gave me serotonin, not gonna line) and then posts on her social media about it. Somehow, she knows the word “merde” but not “je m’appelle.”  This is where we see she has somehow gone from 230 followers to 1435 followers, all in the time it takes her to get dressed. Also, Emily JUST now notices her interactions, which is unbelievable for an average person, let alone someone who posts as much as she does, and especially not for someone who is supposed to work in social media marketing!!

She then proposes a marketing campaign to her boss, Sylvie, who points out that...uh, exclusivity is the whole point of exclusive brands? Luxuries aren’t luxuries if everyone has them? Sylvie is right a lot, I’m noticing.

At a work-party, Emily gushes about a marketing campaign she did for a vaccine where whenever someone googles “tropical vacation,” “paradise,” or “beach,” her product would come up. First off, that is not how that product would be marketed. Second of all, if that were true, everyone involved was terrible at their jobs; the marketing people for her product, the marketing people for tropical hotels and resorts, heck, even the people in charge of google search results. If you googled a tropical resort, and the first thing that came up was a vaccine for an illness you might get there, that’s not going to make you want to get the vaccine; it’s going to make you want to vacation somewhere else.

Emily then gets approached by one of her company’s clients, Antoine, who sucks. I know Emily is big-dumb, but no woman, in 2020, is THAT oblivious to being sexually harassed. They’re at a work function, and he’s talking to her about lingerie and pleasing men, then tells her she smells like “expensive sex.” I know you can’t necessarily tell a big client to get fucked, but she doesn’t even seem uncomfortable. It feels like the audience is supposed to interpret this as perfectly normal, which makes me quite uncomfortable. Also, not nearly as important, but “the best way to learn a language is in bed” seems like bad advice. I just feel like the vocabulary you would learn would be pretty limited.  

Though Antoine wants Emily on the team for his perfume, Sylvie insists that she would be a better fit for a lubricant for old women, vaja-jeune. And I know that this is because Sylvie is jealous of Antoine giving Emily attention; still, Sylvie is right (AGAIN); this is a better fit for Emily, who has experience in pharmaceuticals. 

Julien then comes over and reveals that Sylvie is Antoine’s mistress, which, like, Sylvie could do so much better.

Emily, carrying the most hideous handbag of all time, meets up with her new friend, Mindy, who explains French affairs to her. There is no way that Emily had no idea about mistresses in France, unless she grew up under a rock. Emily is so naive that it isn’t endearing; it’s annoying. I hate her with a passion. This show is fantastic.

 At this dinner, we learn that Mindy abandoned being rich as fuck to be a nanny, but it’s okay because now she has her “freedom”, whatever the fuck that means. The next discovery is that Emily is a Karen, who thinks she can “teach the chef a thing or two about customer service.” Just when I thought she couldn’t get any worse.

The chef turns out to be the hot guy whose apartment she keeps trying to break into, so she eats her steak without making him recook it. She discovers that she’s wrong and says it’s “surprisingly tender,” and only Emily is dumb enough to be surprised that meat that’s less cooked is more tender.

In the next scene, we see her boyfriend, Doug, who is supposed to get on a plane in the next five minutes, call to tell her he isn’t coming. It feels like he could’ve called maybe a BIT earlier. He tells her that he doesn’t want to explore Paris alone and that she should quit her job and come home because he “doesn’t know how to do long-distance.” Here’s an idea, Doug, you could fucking try?! I mean, this guy SUCKS. I hate him. SO MUCH. I actually hate him to the point that it makes me kind of...like Emily. I know, shocking, right? Emily breaks up with him, thankfully (and obviously).

Then, she posts on her Instagram about the old lady-lube and, apparently, Brigitte Macron tweets about it. You know, Brigitte Macron? The First Lady of France? Who definitely spends her time tweeting links to Instagram posts from accounts with like 5000 followers, referencing her dried out vagina? I’m all for suspension of disbelief, but come on. The episode ends with her coworkers toasting her over this and calling her their “vaga-jeune,” which translates to “young vagina.” Kind of seems inappropriate for her coworkers to call her, but maybe that’s just me.

[morrigansmuses]

3 Golden Rules.

On Ethical disappointments. 

I was raised to be tolerant. To consider the views and opinions of others, to keep and open mind. I was a social outsider (homeschooled due to racism in the local school.) I vowed I wouldn’t ever exclude people for being different to me or having different values. I was desperate to make and keep friends. More than anything.

I was 15 in the late 1990s. Lonely as hell. I decided that I would befriend absolutely anyone who would have me. Essentially anyone who wouldn’t beat me up on sight for being foreign.

I decided that I had 3 and only 3 dealbreakers in terms of friendship.

RULE 1. They couldn’t be cruel to animals.

RULE 2. They coudn’t sexually abuse children.

RULE 3 They couldn’t be a card carrying Nazi.

If anyone in my life did any of those things I couldn’t associate with them anymore. But barring that I would try to accept them as individuals. 

Thats a pretty low bar right? I mean how could anyone fail to meet those insanely low standards?

See back then I didn’t know that shades of grey existed. I knew in theory that we were all imperfect beings, but I didn’t know what that meant yet in reality.

So I began to make friends. With normal kids. Actually probably nicer than average kids because they were sweet and sensitive enough to accept me for who I was when no one else would.

So the first hurdle I came across was that some of these people I was friends with enjoyed hunting. They would say for meat. I get that. Better than factory farming right? less cruel, less wasteful.

“You shouldn’t eat meat unless you’re willing to kill it yourself” They’d say virtuously.  

But then I saw them in action. Delighting in the act of killing in a way that I knew wasn’t healthy. Laughing at the kid goat’s head bursting in a shower of gore or the way an animal screamed upon being shot. Killing more than they needed… That’s an impulse I don’t believe humans should engender in themselves.

But it was for food. Right? So I overlooked it and silenced the voice in my heart.

One day my best friend shot a stray cat with his bb gun just for the laugh. It didn’t kill the cat or anything but the animal yelped and ran away. I was so upset and shocked that I burst into tears and it all came pouring out. Was he training himself to become a sociopath? I asked him.

He apologised. He never did anything like it again. He was very kind to animals, especially cats, ever since and doesn’t hunt them anymore for any reason.

I forgave.

That’s the first time I remember compromising a core value. It was like a tooth being pulled from my 15 year old head. 

I don’t regret it.

We’re still best friends. 

The second hurdle that started to crack my young heart was the undeniable fact that in the early 2000s almost every guy I knew in his early 20s had a girlfriend between that ages of 12 and 15. NEVER OLDER. I can’t stress this enough. They would vomit in disgust at the thought of a crone of 18 or 19. They were also VERY vocal about their desire and right to have sex with children after a few drinks. By the time I was 20 I knew I had aged out of the 20s dating pool. I wasn’t attracted to older men. 

No matter. I’m asexual and prefer platonic relationships anyway.

To this day I’ve never had a romantic relationship with a man. Because once I realised that Rule 2 wasn’t one any of them could keep, the trust was broken.

It wasn’t only men either. My closest girlfriend was a 26 year old substitute teacher who fucked one of her 15 year old students on a drunk night out once…

So they both had fun and boys that age are up for anything right? I mean. He probably still boasts about it today…

Right?

Plus… She was all I had. Like the only one I had at the time. I was so scared of losing her.

I turned a blind eye and ear. I tolerated. I didn’t have to approve of their teenage girlfriends did I? After all there were so many of them that if I cut them out of my life I’d have no friends ever again. Because the whole of society looked like them…

Thats the truth.

People in my extended family have dated 17 or 18 year old girls and encouraged them to drop out of school to have their children. People I love have done that.

I once knew a handsome, intelligent and charming man. He was dating a family member for a few months. He often defended the right of adult men to date teens. “Girls mature more quickly than boys.” He’d argue. Everyone would agree. After all hadn’t my great grandmother been 12 years old when she met my great grandfather and married him on her 16th birthday (with parental permission)? He was in his 20s. Just a boy himself surely? “We all know what children boys in their 20s are right?” Said my Mother… Whom I love very much.

Excuses were made.

Years later I discovered the the handsome, intelligent and charming man had been raping a 6 year old the entire time we’d known him. He is still wanted by the police today.

My father tells that when he was a boy of 18 back in the 70s he had kicked an older German man, a respected family friend, out of his car because the man had asked him to pull over, he had something important to tell him. When he did so, the man said that the Holocaust was a myth. An exaggeration, a Zionist hoax.

My Father was dating my mother at the time. She’s Jewish. So is his uncle, a Holocaust survivor.

He yelled at the man not to talk shit and made him walk home.

I am not my father.

The first time a Holocaust denier (a respected local businessman) voiced their opinion to me I froze. Then laughed. Surely he must be kidding... I argued briefly before realising that he’d made up his mind.

My well meaning people said I’d made a mistake. It was my job, they said, to change his mind. To educate him. Otherwise how would he learn?

I didn’t speak to him again but I still nod at him in the street because he employs a few of my friends and I wouldn’t want to make things awkward for them.

And also I don’t want him to yell at me. 

I have worked with Holocaust survivors and have survivors in my immediate family and I still nod in the street at a Holocaust Denier because we are raised to be polite aren’t we? Let’s not make a scene. 

We’re mature adults.

Aren’t we?

People are starting to turn weirder than they used to be. Politically.

My Leftist friends are in a secret facebook group... Strenuously defending China’s Uyghur genocide because Communism can do no wrong… And at the same time saying all the Israelis need to be killed for what they’ve done to the Palestinians. One suggests a biological weapon tailored to Jews.

My Centrist friends are suggesting we “Hang up democracy for a while” in order to combat global warming and welcome a global police state and stop “kicking off” about our rights all the time. “Maybe we need a jackboot up the arse” one of them says.

And the ones that aren’t on the Left?

My facebook feed these days is getting awfully full of Rothschild memes.

“We own every bank in the world and funded both sides of every war since Waterloo.” They say, next to a grinning caricature of Jacob de Rothschild. Reminiscent of a Nazi cartoon of a “Rat Jew.”

Even a hedge fund billionaire prick doesn’t deserve that, does he?

I don’t comment. What’s the point? They’ve watched all the youtube and don’t read history books on principal.

My Brother is getting into Qanon. So is my Sister in Law.

She follows the medical teachings of a man who thinks the Jews invented Chemotherapy to kill the Germans after the war. Apparently he is becoming more and more popular.

Eccentrics.

Thats all.

I’m half Jewish. Like My Brother.

One of the Survivors I know said that 3 weeks after the Nazi propaganda came into the school he attended, he was in Bergen Belsen and half his family was dead.

His neighbour was jealous because his father had 2 more cows than he did.

I hear Marine Le Pen is neck and neck with Macron to win France.

A good friend of mine said it's because by 2030 Muslims will outnumber white people in Europe. He won’t read the articles I send him. But he sure sends me a lot of YouTubes.

I ignore them because I don’t want to hate him. Maybe he ignores my articles for the same reason.

Hey 15 year old me…. You, skinny thing with the ethics, the braces and black eyeliner…

Those compromises I made were made out of love... And also fear. 

Please stop looking at me like that little girl.

“It’s true” writes my friend. They’re trying to breed us out. It’s all an elite Zionist plot.”

I close Whatsapp.

Here I go again I guess…