#tap image for clearer picture

[captain-orphic-al]

[ashfault]

" You dare to mess with us, Goldenloin? "

This AU belongs to me! Where Ballister is from the Underworld Kingdom (aka the demon realm) where as Ambrosius is from the Higher Class Kingdom (aka the angelic realm)!!

(I don't know if someone has the same AU concept, so if someone does, please tell me :33) ( tap the picture for a clearer image!)

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 4.8K~ Summary: A young human-Gem hybrid- a soul yet unknown to the rest of the Crystal Gems- takes their first brave steps towards greeting their heritage firsthand.

Chapter 3 of 4! This time, my OC goes on a tour of Little Homeschool with Bismuth, and gleans a far clearer picture of the most pertinent events of recent Gem history.

Enjoy! <3

__

Same as the car ride into town, the warp stream sees fit to aggravate their motion sickness.

Jean doubles over with hands on wobbly, wobbly knees when they finally reach their destination, relishing in the familiar comfort of feet planted upon solid ground once more. (Because good grief, they were whirling about like a damn tumbleweed in there. Balancing themself all perfectly poised and upright like the Gems felt near impossible.)

“Hey, you good?” the purple one— Amethyst, they remind themself— says, reaching a solitary hand out as if to catch them should they stumble.

“Y-yeah,” they stutter, still breathing heavy. “Yeah… sorry, it’s just— hoo boy, that was a lot.”

“Steven took a while to get used to the warp streams as well,” Garnet comments, issuing a formal, solitary nod. “It’s only expected that an organic being would struggle to acclimate to a zero-G environment like that. You’ll learn to manage it. In time.”

Jean swallows hard, willing that awful nausea at the base of their esophagus to recede. With any luck she’s right. It’d be such an embarrassing shame if they couldn’t physically handle such a basic form of Gem transportation. They always knew the theory for how the warp pads worked— the inter-linked system of crystalline terminals providing near-instantaneous travel between distant locations— but it’s another thing entirely to actually experience it. The whole journey from the beach house to this other settlement took, what? Maybe five or so seconds? Goodness, such a swift means of transportation could entirely revolutionize life on Earth as humanity knows it. It really is too bad these warp pads only activate for Gems.

(And that… well… they disorient every last balance-keeping anatomical feature of the inner ear. They’re thankful for Garnet’s encouragement, they are— but as of this precise moment they can’t imagine how such a trip could get any better, motion sensitivity in mind.)

Then, fingertips tapping delicately against the crystal inlaid at their chest in pure subconscious habit as the post-warp jitters fade away, they cast their gaze upwards and out. Shift their posture upright once more. This place…

“I— I’m actually here,” they mutter to themself, drinking in the glorious sight of all the colorful architecture and the bounty of Gem students milling around the busy central square.

Little Homeworld, in the flesh.

They step off the warp pad and— eyes widened with childlike wonder— begin to map out the area in their head. Clustered beyond the gold-rimmed concrete platform wrapping around the warp are a number of small buildings, each one featuring a completely different architectural style. Some are cozy A-frames, some are suspended on stilts… some are fashioned from wood and stone, others from brick… there’s square windows, circular windows, half-moon windows, no windows—! One story, two story, many, many stories… name any exotic building feature, and this place probably has it represented somewhere. And it’s a very colorful town, too— Jean has never seen a neighborhood painted in such vivid, welcoming pastel shades.

They’re still drinking in the sheer exhilarating splendor of their new surroundings when a broad figure they don’t recognize rushes across the square towards their current group, the very image of a Gem on a mission.

She’s clad in overalls that look much like their own, sporting a friendly face and— most unusually, compared to the Gems they’ve seen so far— an inverted gemstone at her chest, one that spirals inwards towards her core instead of sticking out.

“Oh, thank goodness you lot are back!” she says, nudging one of her rainbow locs back behind her shoulder as she plants herself square in front of their three hosts. “I was beginning to wonder if I needed to start the seminar on your behalf.”

Pearl’s glance flits their way for the briefest of seconds, their fingertips threading together. “Apologies, we got a little caught up in… something important, shall we say.”

“Bismuth, this is Jean,” Garnet says, gesturing towards them. “They’re a prospective student and need a full tour of our campus and dormitory. Do you or Peridot have time to show them around?”

Her mouth screws up as she considers. “Well… pretty sure Peri’s busy with her horticulture class, so I guess I can do it. It sure beats all the busy work I had going on this morning. But wait, wait—” she interrupts her own train of thought then, her attention snapping right back to the other Gem— “hold up. You said prospective student? You mean this isn’t just a tour for the short-term exchange program?”

“Jean’s half-Gem,” Amethyst blurts out with clear excitement painting her tone. “Like Steven.”

Bismuth’s expression snaps from minor confusion to spellbound amazement almost faster than Jean is capable of processing. Her glance flits down, briefly hovering on the pale lavender-blue gemstone resting atop their sternum.

“Huh,” she muses out loud, balling her hand at her chin. “Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t know that was possible.” Then, her focus pulling back up to meet their eyes: “But hey, we’ve plenty of time to talk shop about that later, right? It’s nice to meet you, Jean! We can begin that tour right now, if you’re ready. The rest of you guys, go on ahead. I’ll take it from here.”

“Sounds good,” they nod, tangling their own hands within the wide expanse of their pockets as they rock back and forth on their heels. “I, erm—” they wave an anticlimactic goodbye to the other Gems, who seem to be in a huge hurry to meet their previous engagement… golly, all of this is happening so fast— “can I just do one thing before we start, though?”

Bismuth hums an affirmative. “Whatever you need. We got all the time in the world.”

Inhaling deep through the slimmest slit of their lips, they pull their phone out of their pocket and sling a quick text to Dad, updating him on where they’re at. After all, warping straight to Little Homeworld itself was not in their plan for today… but oh, well. Life is full of surprises sometimes.

(A fact of existence that’s both a blessing and a curse.)

But with that little task out of the way, Jean follows their guide down the wide central path connecting to the main square, eagerly soaking up whatever knowledge she can spare. Bismuth, as it turns out, is the Gem who designed this whole campus. Thus for all the questions they might have, she’s got a pretty solid answer for most. Or so she claims.

From what they’ve seen of her so far, they’re apt to believe this, though.

“So… Little Homeworld,” they begin with a fair measure of timidity, skipping a little to catch up with this Gem’s large and energetic stride. “This place was only built in the last few years, yeah?”

She grins. “Yep! We broke ground in mid 2015, shortly after the start of Era 3.”

Their brow creases. “Era 3…?”

“Gem society’s current era,” she says in explanation, “which began when the Crystal Gems finally made peace with big Homeworld. You’ve… heard of Homeworld, right?”

“I mean… I always figured there was one, but that’s kinda it. I—” they trail off for a moment, their chest deflating under the humiliating weight of everything they’re unaware of. “To be completely honest, I’ve never even met any Gems until today. So there’s gonna be a lot I don’t know. Sorry…”

Bismuth merely waves their apology off. “Psssh, don’t worry about it. I can explain some of the basics to you after the tour. Plus, if you’re looking to enroll, you’ve plenty of time to learn all this stuff anyways. Now follow me, our first stop is just over here…”

The first stop she speaks of is the campus gymnasium. Jean’s interest is immediately piqued as they notice a few Gems sword fighting in one of the gym’s many courts. Bismuth— ever the keen eye— gives a fond laugh at their sharp swerve of interest, and dives straight into the meat of her tour spiel, beginning with…

Campus tour factoid number one: not only is this space utilized for structured classes (mostly swordplay and wrestling, which the quartzes are huge fans of), but students can even reserve courts for individual use. It’s not a super large gymnasium, but there’s plenty of space for sports outside, too. Apparently baseball (of all things) is a favorite pastime amongst Little Homeschool students.

Campus tour factoid number two: right next door to the gymnasium there’s a building with a bright, airy common area. Here, there’s tons of tables and chairs set up for students to play games and connect, a communal kitchen (mostly for the benefit of their human visitors, but also for Gems who wish to experiment with eating), and a mini library of human entertainment.

Campus tour factoid number three: when weather is permitting many instructors like hosting their classes outside, but they have plenty of physical classroom space too, over in the cluster of buildings nestled under the trees right across the main path. Some of the other amenities Little Homeschool boasts are a full art studio, an all-seasons greenhouse kitted out with the latest and greatest in hydroponics technology, and a records room with access ports to a whole wealth of Homeworld data banks for research and learning purposes.

The final stop on Bismuth’s tour is the dormitory, which is housed within the central tower.

“Now, many of the Gems who attend our school are at a delicate transitory stage in their lives,” she says, leading Jean through the front entrance of the dorm. “Plenty of them have never been apart from those of their own cut for more than a second, so the concept of ‘personal belongings’ and having a space that’s all their own is… well, for lack of a better term, alien.”

They nod as they follow Bismuth through the building’s lobby, each and every step bringing a new curiosity to gawk in awe at. Damn, this place is insane! The whole core of this tower is open space, with a set of transparent elevator-like pads stationed at the middle to ferry folks up and down from each level. There’s tons of greenery and light brightening up this expanse, and a number of railed walkways arcing across this central atrium from different angles every few floors. These walkways even have flowering vines hanging from the undersides, giving this building a strikingly organic vibe despite its concrete heavy architecture style. It all feels very… oh, what’s the style Dad always said he likes the aesthetic of, again—? Very, uh… very solar punk. Yes, that’s it. A sort of combination of solar punk and neo-futurism, what with all the bold angles and sweeping curves represented here.

A few Gems wave at Bismuth as the two of them pass by. She beckons them along towards the lift system.

“Thus, when building this school,” their tour guide continues, “we settled on dorm style accommodations, hoping that it could provide a nice balance between solo and community living for our students.”

“How many Gems are housed here, out of curiosity?” Jean asks, stepping up on the platform with her.

Bismuth taps her fingers against the diamond shaped screen inlaid in the half-wall that separates the lifts— probably imputing a floor— and the crystalline platform jolts to life. “Currently? About a hundred seventy or so,” she responds, turning back to face them. “And our roster rotates all the time. But the school itself serves plenty more— there’s a lot of Gems who warp in each day for their classes, and others who only choose to attend one or two sessions.”

They hum in acknowledgement, falling quiet to enjoy the smooth ride up to one of the upper levels.

The lift stops at floor seven, where their gracious host leads them towards what she describes as one of the few empty dorm rooms. (Or they think these are supposed to be the dorm rooms? These doorways don’t have any handles to speak of, which is a little confusing.) In any case, Jean’s brow arches in ample curiosity as they watch Bismuth press her palm flush against the adjacent panel much like one would use a hotel keycard. A dull chime rings out, and the entire surface of the door splits in two. They flinch a step backwards, wholly mystified. Wait, what?? But how did— there was no seam before, right? The doorway had no visible seam. They swear to the edge of the Earth it didn’t. So how could it just—?

Bismuth gives a fond chuckle, merely shuffling aside to invite them in to the room. “Trippy, right? This whole building’s a bit of an architectural labyrinth— held together with a whoooole lotta Gem tech, hah! So when you walk through that frame, you’re actually entering into something of a pocket dimension. It’s the only way we could scale up our operations while maintaining a slim footprint. The sunlight’s real, though,” she says, gesturing towards the wide window at the far end of the living unit.

Eager eyed, Jean takes a quick inventory of the space.

The room itself is fairly sparse, a blank canvas to be furnished and decorated however a Gem would prefer. But there’s some shelves built into the right hand wall at the far corner for storage of personal items, and a humble table and chair nestled by the window. Meanwhile, on the left side of the wall there’s a strange little person-sized inlet— a ‘cubby,’ of sorts— with another one of those touch screen panels next to it. They hum with intrigue, striding towards this mysterious furnishing feature.

“What’s this for?” they ask, the panel’s interface bursting to life under even the most feathery brush of their fingertips.

“Oh, that—?” she smiles. “It’s a newer contraption, actually… meant to mimic the unique conditions of any Gem’s exit hole.”

Jean purses their lips, absolutely nothing about the conclusion of that last sentence making sense.

Their what hole?? Oh gosh, it’s gonna take eons to figure out what even half of this stuff means, isn’t it?

Bismuth begins to speak further on the topic, delving into something more nuanced about these so-called ‘exit holes…’ something about rest, something about incubation, a kindergarten or whatever. Ugh. They don’t know. They don’t know. And even more frustratingly, for whatever goddamn reason it suddenly feels impossible to maintain focus on her words at all, their mind instead seeing fit to fixate on the daunting ravine that is their sheer lack of an even baseline understanding of Gem physiology, culture, and history. Here they are, trying to enroll in an all-Gem school, and they barely even comprehend the basic lingo. Oh god, she thinks they’re an idiot, doesn’t she?

They don’t even realize they’re clutching their arms around their midsection in the sheer strife of it all until the sound of their own name cuts through all the murk and mire that’s taken their body hostage.

“Jean… hey, Jean? You doin’ okay, there? D’ya want me to slow down?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine, I just—”

Whatever lame, emotionally downplaying words they were about to utter die like snuffed cinders upon their tongue as they hazard a sheepish glance at the Gem and note the genuine concern weaving across her features. Jean sighs, dropping their arms.

“I think I need to go outside,” they admit, averting their gaze. “Everything’s just… a little overwhelming right now.”

“Hey, that’s all right,” she says, tone soft with understanding. “The rest of the tour can always wait. In fact… how ‘bout I take you back to my forge, and we can talk shop there, instead? It’s open air, and if you’re not up for talking, I can just show ya’ how I prepare billets for a while. At least until the others come back ‘round. That sound more your speed?”

“Yeah,” they nod, the barest hints of a smile returning to their lips. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.”

~

The walk back to Bismuth’s forge is pretty uneventful. There’s a few Gem students who wave a friendly hello to their guide as she leads them down the path, but beyond that their journey is cast in comfortable silence. And honestly, thank goodness for that. Jean is exceedingly glad to find another soul in this place who understands the importance of like… why a person might desire chatter-less companionship. Sometimes they just flat out don’t feel up to talking, y’hear?

Bismuth only breaks their quietude when the two of them step through the arched entry into her workshop.

“Here, you can sit, if you’d like,” she says, gesturing towards a squat wooden stool nestled at the corner of the space. There’s a table there as well, filled with a number of specialized metallic hand tools Jean can’t even begin to guess the names or uses of. Their Aunt Dee might, though. As a film costumer, metal work seems like something she would’ve at very least dabbled in before.

They nod in gratitude, eagerly situating themself on the offered seat and allowing their muscles to relax. Ahhh… it feels nice to rest after such a long walk.

Their gracious host rounds the room to grab a dense bar of metal from the healthy stash she’s got stacked on the shelves. As she crosses back around, her eyes lock on them immediately. Ever so subtle, her brows lift upon her broad forehead as she regards them once more, signaling her active sympathy.

“You ‘doin any better?”

They nod, small and meek. “Yeah, I think so. Sorry, about— well, sorry.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be apologetic for, don’t you worry,” she says, laying the metal bar down on the working surface of her anvil. Then, with a faint laugh: “‘Sides, if you think you’re feelin’ out of your element, you should’ve seen my last tour group.”

“What would a Gem have to feel out of place about…?” Jean asks, more of an under-their-breath mutter than anything else.

Of course, Bismuth seems to glean the deeper meaning behind their hazy afterthought of a query anyways. “Oh, you’d be surprised. A lot of our students here have, well… a bit of a complicated past. A large number of them fought in the war for Earth, back when the Gem Homeworld was still trying to colonize it. And a good number of those spent a few thousand years trapped in a state of mental damage we Gems call ‘corruption.’”

Their features crinkle inwards as they ponder these facts. Hmm. ‘Corruption.’ Yet another term they’ve never seen show up in any of their research efforts. It seems the scant amount of information they’ve amassed about Gems up until now really was barely scraping the barrel. Was this their fault? Did they not dig deep enough? Are these pieces of their own history they could’ve learned years ago if only they applied themselves to their search harder? But in a true blessing of a breakthrough for an anxious wreck who’s starting to feel too ashamed to bother anyone with any more of their ignorant questions, their blank, deer-in-the-headlights gaze is obvious enough that their host clues in on the confusion swirling through their mind immediately.

“Ah, hmm. I guess you prolly don’t know what corruption is either, huh?” she muses, pressing a closed fist to the edge of her lips.

Jean flashes an apologetic smile. “‘Fraid not.”

She nods, and temporarily abandons her starting metal to the anvil so she can grab a second stool from the other side of the forge and sit herself down across from them.

“In that case,” she jabs a solitary finger in the air, “lemme just start from the beginning and give you the ol’ Earth rebellion primer…”

So, here’s what they glean from her narrative:

The Gem Homeworld was apparently once ruled by four Diamonds. The youngest of the quartet, Pink, had Earth given to her as her first colony. The colonization efforts went as planned for a good few hundred years… and then, a lone rose quartz and a pearl (the Pearl, the one they met just an hour or so ago, which makes a damn lot of sense from what little they’re aware of her), began seeding whispers of rebellion. It started small… isolated attacks on key settlements and construction sites, strategic disruptions of supply shipments and warp pad installations, that sort of thing. At first, the two of them only ever intended to scare the others off this planet— not wanting its ecosystem to be permanently destroyed via the lethal impacts of Gem production on the Earth’s soil chemistry. But over time, the rebellion blossomed to champion a cause far broader than what was originally intended:

Freedom for all Gems, no matter how disparate to Homeworld’s stringent ideals.

This was when Bismuth joined the fray, and where much of her recounting of this history is based on eye-witness experience.

Jean takes a moment to inquire a bit deeper about the destructive impact of Kindergarting before her story moves on.

“Essentially, Gemkind used to set up camp on a new planet, construct their colony, siphon every last scrap of life out of its crust until they’ve incubated all the Gems they possibly can, and then move right along to the next one,” Bismuth says, shaking her head with a tinge of shame coating her features. “An endless, soulless cycle, with countless dissatisfied Gems trapped at its center. That’s why the mere existence of Rose Quartz was such a shockwave at the time— ‘coz she was a Gem who outright defied her superiors’ demands at every opportunity. Rose, she—” her expression grows somewhat wistful with melancholy remembrance— “she taught me that my unique existence was precious, that I didn’t need to bend to Homeworld’s demands. That I could choose my own path in life. My own friends. My own loves… Stars, Rose Quartz was everything to me back then.”

Jean’s nose crinkles as they ask the obvious next question. “But…?”

Bismuth sighs as she slumps forward on her stool, age-old exhaustion evident within her tone. “But war is complicated. And so are Gems. I made a few choices I now regret, and got bubbled over it. Missed a few thousand years ‘coz of that. And by the time I was let out, the war was long over. The Crystal Gems won, but… only by a technicality.”

“Bubbled?” they inquire, tilting their head.

“Hah,” she laughs, low and half-hearted. “Means my form was dissipated in combat, and my gem was stashed in a bubble. It’s a long story. Don’t really wanna hash through the details of it now, if that’s okay.”

Jean nods, more than emphasizing with that sort of sentiment. There’s tons of awkward stuff in their past they’re not super interested in discussing with others, either. They gesture for her to continue.

Bismuth moves on to explain how— once she was freed from her stasis and allowed to reform— she discovered that all the Gems left behind on this planet were caught in a massive retaliatory attack by the Diamonds.

“They believed Rose Quartz shattered one of their own,” she shrugs. “Pink Diamond— the appointed leader of this colony— was lost during the war. So the three who remained traveled to Earth and tried to wipe every last Gem off its surface… their own soldiers included. They assumed they destroyed all of them.“

“But they were corrupted instead,” Jean completes, remembering that specific word Bismuth had used earlier. “Which means—?”

“—that their minds were thrown into a jumbled, primal state. Unable to retain a humanoid form, or even communicate in words. To use your human lingo, it’s as if the sheer brutality of the Diamonds’ damage reduced them into monsters.”

“Hmm. So how were they healed?”

“Ah, that was all Steven’s doing. I’m assuming you already know about Steven—?”

They nod. “I’ve seen his adverts,” they put it lightly.

That’s— of course— only the tip of the iceberg. They choose not to mention the ridiculous sum of time they’ve spent combing the internet for every last scrap of information they could feasibly grasp on Beach City, Steven, and the other Gems. It’s not clear yet what this particular Gem would think about such an obsessive level of study… whether she’d admire the initiative or resent them for sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.

“Alright. Now, here’s where things get a bit topsy-turvy,” Bismuth says, a bit of a chuckle coloring her tone. “So, Steven’s the half-human son of Rose Quartz, right?”

Yep, that tracks. None of Jean’s sources ever stated this so bluntly, but it meshes with the vague timeline of events they’ve pieced together… what with Rose’s disappearance and Steven’s arrival on the scene years later.

“Well, back when he was a kid, this whole bombshell secret ‘bout his mother comes out. I wasn’t there for the reveal,” she shrugs, gesturing wide with her palms spread open, “and only learned about it secondhand, but— basically, all along, Pink Diamond and Rose Quartz were the same person.”

Their brows scrunch inwards. “Wait, what?”

“Wild, right?” she says with noted amusement. “All those years of chaos and turmoil… when the whole time, Rose was simply waging a false war against herself. I’m sure you’ll learn plenty more about this era of history in time, but the important part is that this makes Steven one of the Diamonds. Which gave him the unique authority to negotiate with them for not only the complete liberation of Earth, but also the healing of all the corrupted Gems. Such a cure took the powers of all four of them to achieve. So, hah—” Bismuth cracks a half-hearted, wistful smile— “as much as it really cut my facets down a size at the time… in the end… making peace with Homeworld was literally the only option.”

Jean continues to muse on the broader implications of all this newly learned history as the Gem moves on to describe how Little Homeworld came to be. (Which— they’re ashamed to admit— they’re only halfway paying attention to.) So, Steven’s like… what… royalty, then? Some sort of Gem prince? It certainly would explain the sheer level of political sway he had in setting up this school, and the almost reverent way people here have spoken of him so far. Still, it’s not what they expected. Online documentation on Gem matters is still very sparse, yes, but nothing they’ve read thus far even remotely mentioned the existence of ‘Diamonds,’ let alone Steven’s innate connection to them. They can’t help but wonder if there’s any specific reason why.

Their thoughts migrating to related horizons, they inquire more about the rest of the Diamonds… are they still in some form of power today, they ask?

Bismuth shakes her head no. “Not entirely. It’s, ah… it’s complicated. We’ve elected leaders to aid in governing each of Homeworld’s planets, but… it’d be foolish to claim that the Diamonds don’t still hold a certain sway over a vast percentage of Gemkind. Our society’s entering a vital transitional state right now, shall we say.”

“Makes sense,” Jean nods.

Especially with how long-lived Gems are, though they elect not to say as much out loud. They have no idea if the topic of age is as sensitive for Gems as it can oft be for humans.

“But despite any lingering influence they may hold, they’re not ‘in charge,’ so to speak,” she continues, throwing up air quotes as emphasis. “Not as they once were. Everything’s different now.” Bismuth shifts back upon her stool as she pauses in her lesson, allowing the rejuvenating relief of those three little words to sink in for the both of them. A serene, content smile rises upon her lips. “After a lifetime of struggle, Gems are finally free to be their own selves in this era. We can finally rest.”

Their host meditates within the cusp of this welcoming truth for a few moments, staring off towards the open air doorway at their right to watch a fair handful of residents pass between activities. She closes her eyes, her features aligning into an almost unparalleled show of utter tranquility. Then, bobbing her head a little as she wrestles through the last few items on her laundry list of mental troubles, she clasps her hands upon her knees and pushes herself wholly upright once more.

“Anyways, that’s probably enough history for today, yeah? Hah, wouldn’t want to spook ya’ away with all the heavy stuff before you’ve even enrolled.”

“No, please, don’t worry ‘bout it,” they say with a slight laugh, shaking their head. “I thought it was pretty interesting, really.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it!” she chimes, pacing back across the forge to her anvil. “We can talk shop in more detail when Pearl’s back, but— should you be interested in becoming a student long-term— my plan is to retrofit one of those dorm rooms you saw with a kitchenette and a bathroom, as well as shuffling around some of the furnishings to make space for a bed. Does that sound suitable for your needs?”

“More than suitable,” Jean chimes, folding their hands in their lap.

“Good, good…”

Bismuth shines her a bright, enthusiastic grin, and picks up that dense hunk of metal she fetched minutes earlier.

“So… with all that said and done—” in a flash of brilliant light, she morphs her hand into a broad mallet— “d’ya think you’re still up for a lil’ demonstration?”

[bonny-kookoo]

okay u can’t do this to my poor heart please give us a pt3 i’m in my knees begging you.

You all wanted angst you get angst 🤧

---

He's yet again sitting on the corner of his bed, head in his hands. There's a cardboard box filled with all of your stuff- and it's not even halfway full. Why did he never notice how little stuff you have? How come you seem to have fewer toys and possessions apart from clothes than his dog?

You're currently staying with the girls- and he wonders how you do. It's hard on him because this - the home without you and just filled with the tapping of claws of bam who's occasionally roaming around - is way more calm to him than if you were here. It hurts because it just seems to show him that you really do not fit his life any longer.

And it gets worse when he clicks through videos and pictures on his laptop.

A video backstage, back when you were still a little spooked by fireworks. He's holding down your ears for you, your back pressed against his front as you watch the colorful sparks in the sky with him. They reflect in your eyes, and he watches his past self grin down at you, remembers how glad he was to be able to bring you along.

A set of pictures taken on a train. They're very old - still from the first weeks you'd stayed with him. You're asleep next to your and his bags on the seats across from him, worn out from your first big trip with him. There's still the piercing yellow from your anxiety collar around your neck. You've not worn it for a long time- It's now in the cardboard box, together with the other two collars you own.

Another video. It's the old practice room - you're holding onto his hands as he pulls you around the floor, your laughter filling the room as well as some staff's as well. Every time he stops, you just stare up at him, tail wagging wildly, and you're breathing quickly from the excitement. In another video, he can see you lazily play with the straps of his bag, while he's busy picking something out of the fluff of your curly tail. He doesn't remember what it was. Assumes it was a twig, maybe.

A video of you running in a huge open field, chasing after some wild ducks that fly away from you, as you laugh happily. At the call of your name, you turn around, morning fog hiding you a little - but you quickly become clearer as you run full speed back to him. You're again wearing the neon-colored anxiety collar - one that he can see his hand adjust while he holds the phone to record you. "We should get you a new one." His past self tells you. "You're not scared anymore, right?" The younger Jungkook chuckles, and you proudly nod before attacking him with a hug.

Videos become less and shorter the more time passes. The last photo he's got on this laptop is of you watching something on your tablet with your cheeks all puffy from the marshmallows you're snacking on. It's a hotel room, he notices. He doesn't remember taking that picture, though.

He feels terrible.

He could blame it on being busy. On life just changing, on growing up maybe - but the fact that there's an increase in images and videos of Bam as soon as yours stop forces him to realize that his priorities changed, simply put.

He's begun to take you for granted. He got too comfortable in thinking you'd always be there. His interest may even have faded.

He feels terrible.

He doesn't want to give either up. Neither you, nor his new pet- but he's also aware that it really can't go on like this. He has to make a decision as hard as it might be for him.

He gets up to get his dog's leash, the puppy happily jumping at him at the prospect of a walk.

And he feels terrible.

[sawtastic-sideblog]

This is kind of unnerving. Idk why. Probably because this looks like a selfie he'd send on snapchat.

Imagine:

Mark watches as Amanda poses and takes a selfie on her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a selfie."

"Well, yeah, but why?"

"Adam snapped me."

"He did what?"

"He sent me a snap."

"That has made nothing clearer."

"Snapchat," Amanda says. She looks at Mark and sees the questioning look on his face. She sighs and gets up from the couch to walk over and sit on the arm of the recliner. "Look."

"It's your camera."

"I mean, yeah, but look down here. These are filters. You can put them over your pictures."

"Kinda like the voice filters we use for the tests?"

"Exactly. Adam sent me another snap."

Mark watches as she swipes over to her messages and taps the message. The image of a pouting Adam graces the screen. The caption "Larry says we can't get ice cream. This is bullshit. I'm gonna riot." Amanda laughs and double taps Adam's name. The camera comes back up. She scrolls through the filters and picks one.

"Okay, you're in this. Open your mouth when you see the ears," Amanda explains. Before Mark can protest, Amanda has the phone out in front of them. Amanda has a pair of brown ears with a dog nose on her face. Mark has a pair of white ears with black spots and a dog nose on his face. Mark opens his mouth to speak, but cuts himself off when he sees a tongue come out of his mouth. Amanda presses the shutter button and chuckles at Mark's confused expression. She taps the screen and types in "Teaching Hoffman how to use snap. Wish me luck. #boomer."

"What the hell?"

"Hm?"

"I am not a boomer."

"Okay, whatever you say, Boomer."

"If anyone is a boomer, it's John."

"John is hip and cool. He wears backwards hats. He's an honorary member of Gen Z."

"You're not even Gen Z."

"Shut up. Anyway, you can have a bitmoji, add friends, see where they are on snap maps, and you can earn points."

"What do those do?"

"No clue, but you should make an account."

"Help me?"

"Okay."

Fifteen minutes later and Mark is receiving his first snap. It's from Adam. He's in the passenger seat of the car, angling the phone to where he and Lawrence are both in view. Both men are wearing sunglasses. Lawrence is looking ahead, driving as Adam gives the camera a pouty, kissy face. The caption reads "welcome to the snapiverse. Been trying to get Larry on for a while. Maybe now he will that you're here."

Mark goes to reply to Adam but slides to the left instead. He sees Adam's bitmoji pop up at the bottom of the screen.

"We can also text here if you want. I just like posing for the camera sometimes."

Before Mark can answer, Amanda snatches his phone.

"Hey!"

"Hi, give me a minute."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Making your bitmoji."

A few minutes later, Amanda is handing his phone back. She made the bitmoji look similar to Mark and she's also added him to a group chat with herself and Adam.

"Send your first snap in the chat. I'll be back in a minute," Amanda says leaving the room. Mark does as she said and sends a photo of him glaring into the camera. Adam responds first with a picture of him pulling his sunglasses down. He is looking over the top of the glasses. He is making another kissy face at the camera. The caption says, "Dude what the fuck? Pose or something."

Amanda's snap comes in. Mark opens it to find the top half of Amanda's heas in front of a white wall with a silver bar behind her head. Is she in the bathroom? Her eyebrows are in a questioning furrow and her eyes are concerned. Her caption reads "for real. Pose. Do ducks lips. Give a peace sign. Something."

Mark opens the camera. His lips poke out and he holds up two fingers and snaps a picture. He types out "like this?" And hits send.

*Adam has taken a screenshot*

*Amanda has taken a screenshot*

"OMG I cannot breathe. I am deceased!" Adam sends in the chat.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT MARK!?" Amanda questions.

"I tried okay?"

[lake-archive]

A Knight

AO3 Link - The Love Antics Of Dark Mages Masterlist

Fandom: Puyo Puyo

Characters: Schezo Wegey, Minako (OC) (mentioned), Nyeli (by @watersofcamelot)

Pairing: Schezo/Nyeli (platonic)

Words: 1,203

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“Sometimes you have to observe to learn as much as possible about your target!”

That was something Sisnya Minya loved to say! Well, she usually said that when she was about to ambush a big bad guy but there had to be some truth to this! Nyeli believed so at least. And in a way it was necessary for planning, wasn't it? Mhm, yes! Know your surroundings, then start coming up with things! That was something the great strategists do! And he already knew Minya rather well! So he should focus on observing Wedgy instead!

And that was exactly what Nyeli did for the next few days. Even if Mina would constantly ask the kitty where he went when returning to the inn at night, trying to crawl into the bed and thinking she was asleep. But it was necessary! For her happy end! The happily ever after he always read up on the black and white picture books of wisdom! All for Operation Kissy Kissy Love! So he could never tell her where he was headed during the day, to where he was sneaking to… Not without a foolproof plan at least.

And today had been of course such a day yet again. He was being a sneaky kitty early in the morning, crawling out of bed and leaving the room very quickly and tapping outside of the inn. He made sure to of course pick up a snack to eat for breakfast before tapping through the forest to the cave nearby, entering it and looking for Wedgy and then going into hiding, observing his daily routine.

It was the same old routine usually if Nyeli was completely honest. Most time was spent inside the cave, fending off one person after the other. Sometimes Wedgy even went to battle without hesitation. 

Then there was nappy time here and there, the snoring so loud that it was easy to pick up with Nyeli's own ears. It nearly made his very own vibrate in fact. However, that time would also be disturbed. In fact, every moment in peace would be disturbed and Wedgy seemed to be prepared for it each time, even if he was yelling all over the place sometimes. Though he didn’t exactly say big no–no words, not that type of cursing. But rather he first mumbled some things under his breath before getting up and arguing with the person before blasting them into oblivion to get them out of his own home. And then he proceeded to do whatever he was doing, even if it were simple, boring chores.

Anyone else would be put off but Nyeli? Well… Nyeli may have had that thought at first. Wedgy was something else, literally, and it could be a little scary. However, the more the kitty watched him, the clearer things became. Firstly, the clothes. Nyeli had seen it many times in picture books – The colorful and the black and white kind. Wedgy looked like… A knight. The sword, the cape, the bandana… It didn’t look like a dark mage at all. He didn’t look like Sisnya for one nor did he have a dark robe around his body. And mages don’t use swords, do they? Not that he knew, that’d be a weird image. After all, mages go ‘pow pow’ with their magic spells. They shoot beams and stuff! They don't need swords! And there was only one possible conclusion to what Wedgy was…

A knight! Wedgy is a knight!

And being a knight is cool! No, super cool!  They can fight so much! Some are even known to slay big, scary dragons and stuff! They are always strong but also courageous, taking on different tasks to protect the people! They face various trials, grow stronger and stronger, always proving themselves and their worth! Of course there was much more to a knight yet the mere concept always had Nyeli fascinated. He loved seeing them – In towns, out in the wild or in picture books. They all looked so cool! So much so that Nyeli had the big dream of becoming one himself! And to his luck, one seemed to be close by! That was admirable, wasn’t it!?

And so, one day, despite it having been mere observations, the kitty had tapped over, with his tiny, wooden sword around his waist, looking eagerly up at the knight. Nyeli’s own tail and ears wagged just as eagerly, begging him perhaps. The kitty did not stop in fact, his eyes going as wide as he could manage at this moment. 

“Oh, it’s you again.” Wedgy said once he had noticed Nyeli, having even kneeled down to come somewhat face to face with him. It was always different for the kitty, he had noticed. Any other stranger Wedgy would have yelled at and battled outside of the cave. But when seeing the small creature he was always in a better mood, smiling even, his voice a little higher than usual. Which is why unlike others Nyeli had no reason to fear him. In fact it made this a little easier, making Nyeli not afraid to ask for a favor. It would be two birds with one stone – He gets to gather information for Sisnya while on the other—

“Trai… Trai… ning!” He said eagerly, grabbing his wooden sword and move it up and down, as if swinging for something.

However, Wedgy tilted his head for a moment, first… Confused? Was it? “Training?” He repeated before seeming to cough for a moment, then adding: “Listen little fella. Dark magic can be veeery dangerous! You don’t want to—”

A quick head shake and sudden interruption. “Nye! Knight!” 

And then the face of surprise appeared on Wedgy. “Knight?”

A few quick nods. “Nye! Knight! Nyeli knight training! Wedgy knight training!”

“Wait a minute! Hold on! That’s–”

Yet the kitty refused to take no for an answer. He had to learn from a knight, a real knight! And Wedgy was a knight, right!? Right!? So he would look up, wide eyes, using the ‘kitty eyes’ he sometimes used on Mina as well. But he just wanted to train as a knight! And now that he met one he had to learn from that one! ‘Please’, Nyeli didn’t even need to say it, his face said it all.

Yet he got no response yet, only noticing Wedgy looking away for a moment. “D… Don’t look at me like—”

“Nyeee!” He said however, tapping closer. Wedgy turned back for a moment, gasping and then turning away

“But I’m—”

“Nyeee!”

“Buddy, I—”

“Nye nye nyeeee!”

“Ok ok fine! I’ll teach you I’ll teach you! Just stop with that face! It’s too powerful!”

Upon agreeing Nyeli did stop, though smiling shortly after, tail wagging with excitement. Finally, a knight will teach him to be a knight! That’s exciting! Sisnya will be happy too once she hears this! It’s an excuse to see Wedgy after all, isn’t it?

Well, that was how Nyeli got himself a true knight as a teacher! Something he only dreamed of but here he was, a knight in training! … Well, or so he believed. Wedgy was already cool in Nyeli’s eyes… Being a knight only made him even cooler!

Previous Chapter - Masterlist- Next Chapter

[ropes3amthoughts]

Writing is such a strange thing. Like half the time I have this perfect image of how things are going to go in my head, but when I try to write it, the words don’t come out right. I keep writing a few words, but they all sound wrong, so I keep deleting them all. I try to reimagine the scene in my head to get a clearer idea of what’s happening and then the scene is all fuzzy too. It’s like I can’t put it into words or pictures and this idea can only exist as an abstract thing only able to be perceived by me. Perhaps this writing could never possess a physical form and it is something only for me.

The other half of the time I’m lost in a trance. My fingers are tip tapping away and I’m struggling to keep up. Suddenly, five thousand more words are there that I don’t remember writing and the characters are arguing when I didn’t plan for them to do that. It’s as if I didn’t write the story, but rather I’m a medium for the story. I can only watch as my ideas twist and grow in ways I hadn’t even thought of as my fingers dance across the keyboard. I have no control over it anymore, it’s almost like the story is in control of me instead.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 4

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

CW: There’s smut across this series (18+ content), as well as mentions of parental abuse, neglect, and alcoholism.

Series Masterlist

My Complete Masterlist

All wildfires start just as smoke signals in the sky. Even if the smoke is thin and wispy, the fire will always give off a siren song. And the first signal lands on Calum’s desk with a huff. “Mind telling me what’s going on here?”

Calum looks at the glossy cover of the magazine and spots a picture of you and his mother sitting at a restaurant, staring back at him as the front and center imagine. When Calum doesn’t respond, the red manicured nails flip the magazine open and there on page 21 is another shot of you and his mother from your early dinner a week ago. Miranda taps the image. “The Queen told me she was meeting someone for dinner last week. I thought nothing of it. She meets many people. But that--them right there, that’s one of our employees.”

Calum continues to look over the picture. Nothing sets off his alarms about the three paragraphs written. Though he doesn’t get much time to read it as a tablet is lowered into his vision. “And then, from the same day, given by their green shirt, the two of you are spotted in the service lot kissing,” Miranda huffs. 

Calum taps on the tiny picture to bring up the article. It’s a gossip site, but there’s the photo of Calum and you, outside your car, his lips pressed against your forehead--the angle shows that clearly. 

“You told me you were dating someone. And I figured I’d get the notes when it was serious. But you failed to mention it was someone on our staff,” Miranda scowls. She’s worked on their PR team since Calum’s late teens years. Her and her signature red manicure have drafted many fact sheets, apologies, and letters for him. 

The thing about Miranda that Calum has learned is that she’s never really looking for an answer. None of her speech is to actually gain any sort of clarity or answer from Calum. She’s already prepared on all fronts. The only thing she needs from him to solidify which path they’re going to take. 

“It’s getting serious,” Calum returns. It feels true in a way. Things could be going somewhere. Though there hadn’t been more than the conversations in his room or the stolen moments at breakfast, things were starting to settle. There were fewer whispers and worries about who might catch you too. Though Calum’s father was still waiting for his moment to meet you one on one too. 

“Serious? Okay, well, I’ll make sure you’re fully stocked with condoms while I also prepare the statement about the engagement--sound good?”

“That might be a year early on that,” Calum returns, handing the tablet back to Miranda. He delivers the sentence with a smile. It works but only a little as Miranda smirks back. 

She huffs, tapping at the screen. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“When it was clearer,” Calum answers. That sounds like a genuine question to which he will give a genuine answer. Sure, the few months had been strong, but Calum wasn’t going to jump the gun with you. It’d be like trying to lead a terrified horse. It’d only serve to get Calum kicked down if he wasn’t careful. 

“Having lunch with the Queen seems pretty fucking clear,” she retorts, falling into the one seater opposite of Calum. Her nose is buried in the screen. Her eyesight was going, but she refused to wear glasses except during speeches. 

“We-we haven’t talked about the publicity thing--gossip sites, pap pictures. Is there anything we can do to keep it quieter? I don’t want this to scare them.”

Miranda drops the tablet to her lap. Her gaze is careful and calculated. “I’ll do what I can. But you two will have to talk quickly. They’ll need to be media briefed and trained too. Are you aware of any social media that they have?”

Calum can’t recall that you’d ever mentioned it. Though, he wonders if it’s something you reframed from given your desire not to have your parents contacting you. “I’ll find out,” he answers. 

“I’m quicker,” Miranda laughs, devoid of all humor. “But keep me posted. I can give you a week.”

A week feels much too short to solidify anything let alone a relationship, but he knows if they don’t contain this now it’ll only get worse later. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks for making my job a dream, Calum,” Miranda calls from the door of his office. 

“I like to keep you on your toes,” Calum calls out. Her laughter-real this time- is faint but he catches it just before the door closes. He pulls out his phone and right there on the home screen is a message from you. It’s a little too early in the afternoon, Calum would’ve thought for you to be awake. But there, the message sits. He clicks on it. 

Would you like to go to the park one evening? I’ll show you a painting, since I still owe you that. I’ve got some spare 8 x 12 canvas and mini paints. Perhaps a picnic and painting date?

It’s a date. An actual date. He’d been wondering if it would be too much to ask. It was still dicey inside the castle, he hadn’t even wanted to push too much about taking you out somewhere. You’ve answered his question though. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a far fetched idea. Calum’s stomach flutters at the thought of someone asking him on a date. His cheeks burn at the realization that you’re asking him a date before he can ask you on one. But he likes being courted too--a nice gesture that you want him too. 

I would absolutely adore that, Calum replies. I’ll be sure to bring my guitar. Since I do owe you that. 

I’m free Friday evening if you are? 

God, Calum wishes he could swallow the fluttering of his stomach. He does swipe to his calendar to double check that he is free. Usually Friday’s were empty as most times his friends would want to gather on Thursday or Saturday. His calendar is empty. It makes Calum breathe a little easier. I’m free, he replies. 

I’ll pick you up at 6.

6 it is. He wavers, fingers wanting to type out more about needing to speak with you about something. He worries that will cause you to worry. But he stares at the magazine still on his desk.  Are you free right now? he texts. 

Nearly immediately, his phone lights up with your name. He answers it. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi. Everything okay, Calum?”

“Missed your voice,” he counters. “That and I do need to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious?”

Calum thinks the question is a probe, you fishing for how serious is serious. And he doesn’t fault that tactic either, knows it’s important for you to know the details. “So, it got brought to the attention of the PR team, but a couple photos have surfaced.”

“Pictures? Who has pictures? We haven’t gone anywhere?”

“There’s some from when you met with Mum. It’s mostly white noise. And there’s a second set of pictures from that same day, I think of us.”

Your side of the phone remains quiet. Calum wants to assuage any fears, but he doesn’t want to assume any one reaction from you. But he lets the silence fall thick between the two of you. 

“Are people saying things? About me?”

You ask it quietly, like you might be ashamed of yourself for even giving the question thought. But Calum gets it. It was probably the very thing you were dreading. It was the exact thing you were waiting for. “I haven’t read the comments,” Calum answers. “And I have no plans to read them.” He prays his volley conveys what he needs it to say: I don’t care what others think.

“Won’t your team need to know?”

“They do. Not me.”

“You’d only gain me--realistically. Don’t you care what the cabinet will think?”

Calum shuts his eyes at the question. He doesn't care. He hasn’t needed to care. But he does realize what this will mean. If you two do get serious, it will always be an uphill battle. There will always be people who question you and your motives. There will be people who don’t like Calum’s decisions. But Calum’s not living his life for other people. At the end of his days, he wants to not regret anything. 

“Someone I know called it a circle jerk and if I’m being honest the only person I’m interested in jerking anything of mine is you.”

“God,” you scoff at Calum’s answer. Your laughter falls out in waves. Your annoyance and disappointment is clear too. But that’s the sound Calum needed to hear. 

“It’s true,” Calum laughs. 

“You’re-you’re not ashamed?”

“Baby,” he coos, spinning in his desk chair. The window gives view to the busy streets below. It’s a pretty clear day. The trees bow to the breeze, but the sun is bright in the sky. Calum’s praying that the break in the weather lasts so it’s cooler. “Did I do something to make you think I am ashamed? Because if I did, I'd need to kick my own ass.”

“No, there’s nothing you’ve done. I’m worried that maybe these pictures have changed something.”

“No, these pictures change nothing. And I know it’s really easy for me to say those words, right? Because words are easy. But let me show you, okay? Let me show you nothing’s changed.”

Calum’s not above begging--not when it’s about you. He clutches his phone hoping that you’ll let him show you. 

“Okay,” you answer. “I’ll let you show me.”

“Thank you,” Calum whispers. 

“Can I ask just one thing?”

“You can ask more than just one question. You can ask--”

“If you say two,” you huff. 

Calum exhales a tuft of laughter. “Oh, don’t tempt me. But what’s your question? You can ask all of them.”

“If-if more pictures surface, can you not tell me about them? Not unless it’s important of course. Tell me if anything is important, please.”

Calum’s not sure why you don’t want to know. But the thing he won’t do is subject you to something that you’re not ready to handle. “Yeah, I think I can do that. I know I’m moving fast on this one. But, soon, I think you might get pulled for media training and stuff. It’s like--how to talk in press, what to say if someone asks you x question and so on. And I’m not trying to say you’ll have to talk to the press. You don’t. You absolutely don’t have to talk to the press.”

Your exhale crackles the receiver. Calum knows, well before you even speak, he knows that he’s dug himself into a bit of a hole. However, you don’t even mention the hole Calum’s dug. “Are you giving the paparazzi the glorified title of press?”

“I am being polite,” Calum returns with a small bit of laughter. He’s glad to hear the quip, but he will be logging for later that this might be a subject to return. “I know I’m moving too fast. It’s just--the PR team’s going to move fast and I don’t want that to blindside you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“With Miranda, it’s a good thing. She gets on her shit and gets it done. I’ll-I’ll talk to her to get more and relay it to you.”

“What time does Miranda usually leave? I work tomorrow anyways. I can talk to her.”

Calum spins, almost lifting himself out of his seat as if he’d take himself to Miranda’s office right now. But he pauses, one hand on the desk still. “Uh, I’d say around 5. But she’s been known to work late here and there. I can let her know you’re coming tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I can be in by 4 if she’s okay with that.”

Now, Calum pushes up fully, dress shoes clicking against the floor. “Let me tell her now.” Miranda’s usually on the second floor and Calum’s hoping that she’s still there and not elsewhere--least there be a meeting of some kind for her. 

“Tell me, have you been media trained?” you tease. 

“More times than I can count if I’m honest.” Calum nearly takes himself to the elevators, but worries he might lose signal. He takes himself down to the stairs. “We refresh once a year, maybe? It’s boring. Truly. Your eyes will fight to stay open during it.”

“God that bad?”

“Yeah,” Calum laughs. It echoes in the stairwell amongst the click of his shoes. 

“Do you ever get tired of the dress clothes?” you ask. 

“All the time. But you get used to it.”

“Would I have to dress up?”

Calum carries himself down the last flight of steps. The worry paints your tone heavily and it makes Calum realize how much of this world is absolutely foreign to you. He’s happy to walk you through it, guide you through the madness that his world can bring. But he can’t quite imagine the overwhelm that might descend on someone being suddenly thrusted into this. “Hey, baby, don’t even worry. Should you feel comfortable going with me to events, there would be an expectation that you present according to the dress code. But I’d ensure that you got access to loaners. You won’t be expected to just suddenly have Chanel and Gucci in your closet. I don’t have that shit in my closet.”

Your laughter falls softly. “You have it on your nightstand though.”

Calum knows exactly which scent you’re referring to--his bottle of Gucci Guilty. “But you love that cologne, so I don’t want to hear that.” The sound of his knock rings around the hallway.

Your rebuttal is swift to Calum’s accusation. “It is a nice cologne. But I much prefer your Calvin Klein One Gold, so let’s get our facts straight.”

Miranda peeks her head out from the creak in the door. “Yes, Calum?”

“One second, baby,” Calum offers to you, before peeling the receiver back from his mouth. “How late are you going to be tomorrow, Miranda?”

Her eyes narrow. “Is this a test? But 5:30 at the latest. What’s up?”

“No test. They wanted to talk to you.”

“They who?” Miranda asks. 

Calum offers your name. “About going over their social media. Probably to set up a time to get media trained later on too. Told you I’m always here to make your job easier.”

“Can they be here by 4:30 tomorrow?” 

Calum motions for just a one second and turns back to his phone. “Can you be here by 4:30 tomorrow?” he poses to you. 

You laugh. “You know I can hear everything. But yes, I can do that.”

“Affirmative, Miranda,” Calum relays, ignoring the sass from you for the moment. 

“I’ll see them then. And no, you don’t make my job easier Calum. You just keep making it more and more interesting. All good?”

Calum nods, hearing your cackles at Miranda’s attitude. “We’re all good.” She throws up a thumbs up and then slinks back into her office. Calum huffs at your giddy before turning back to the stairs. “Oh, shut up. She’ll be just as nice to you as she is to me.” 

“Sounds lovely.”

“Calum!” 

He turns at the sound of his name to see Miranda leaning out her door. She’s waving her arm as if that’ll get his attention faster. “Yes?” he calls out. 

“That 4:30 included you too. You’re free. I already checked.”

“Got it,” he hollers back in exchange. “Guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow too, in addition to Friday.”

“You were going to see me anyway tomorrow, because I work.”

“But I’ll see you longer tomorrow,” Calum corrects. 

“There is that too.” A small voice calls out from the background of your side of the phone. Calum listens intently to the soft voice as it calls out your name. “Yeah, for your birthday. Hey, Calum can I call you back? I’ve got to drop some stuff off with Teagan.”

“Yeah, absolutely you can. Tell her I said hi and happy birthday? If that’s okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her.” From the background, he catches a gasp and faintly your voice floats up, “Got a special message for you, Teagan.” The line goes quiet before the special message is given, but he hopes it’s you telling your sister happy birthday from him. Part of him wants to feel deflated, upset that somehow you’d opted not to share this important news with him. But he knows, the bigger part knows, that he can’t let that ego win. Maybe you’d just gotten close enough to do that. Maybe there’s some other reason that the information is withheld. But Calum refuses, as he climbs into the elevator to let his ego get the best of him. 

He does wonder if he could get your sister something. If you’d be okay with him doing that and passing it along the next time you saw her. He knows it would most likely be very late, but still, he doesn’t want your siblings to think he doesn’t care about them. He does. But Calum knows getting to them means getting through you. It’s a much more challenging stage than it might seem. However, even if Calum wanted to get Teagen something he’d have not the slightest clue what to get her. What did she like? Was she into dolls? Did she like playing mad scientist instead? Was she into excavating bones of animals millions of years old? As much as the layers were peeling away to show Calum more of you, there was still a heart that was locked away. 

Calum gets so distracted with the searches--taking his time from tea sets to magic trick kits--that the photos feel like a different timeline until he walks down into the kitchen. The morning is bright and there’s a swelter of voices behind the doors. As he gets closer to the kitchen, he catches pieces. Though one voice rises about them all, with a sharp, Yeah, but with the prince? Followed behind it are whispers. It’s not how he imagined his morning might go, but Calum picks up into a jog to close the 20 feet. The door creaks open and as you hold out plates to other staff of food, everyone has a locked in gaze on you. They look more like children being told a story than what Calum imagined as predators locked in on prey. 

The sound of the door shifts the room. All eyes on you shift to him and now he feels it. The way the eyes widen and some let our poor attempts at stifled laughter. “Uh oh, Your Highness heard you talking shit, Val,” a brave voice quips up from the group. 

“I-uh-” Calum stutters. 

“Eat Declan, or you will be wearing that jam,” you return. 

The room falls into a cacophony of laughter. People slowly retreat into their seats. Eyes flickering between you and Calum. “I can go, sorry,” Calum offers. Perhaps, he should try to find time when you’re not around. Or maybe that would make it worse? He’s not sure. 

“Then I guess I’m eating the three scrambled eggs, six strips of bacon lightly crispy and fruit medley all by myself.” You hold the plate like an invitation. It is his usual time to get breakfast. He’d switched to evening workouts given the volume of work to be done. Minus the weekends--on the weekends Calum would do his best to get up early to get a good workout in if it’d been missed during the week. 

“I don’t want to intrude,” he counters. It might be better to wait for things to die down.  He’s not used to this caliber of staff in the morning. Though, he imagines now that if the pictures are getting around, the staff would of course want to know what they could know. They’d need to get to you in order to get information if they did want more. They certainly wouldn’t come to him. 

“You might’ve skipped over that when the door. I won’t offer again,” you warn, taking the fork from the plate and cutting into the eggs. 

“You don’t even like your eggs scrambled,” Calum concedes, crossing the threshold. And it’s true, you prefer sunny side up. Calum had learned mostly by watching how you prepared your own plate. 

“I can be convinced otherwise,” you hum, taking the tiny cut, hardly a divot in his plate, to your mouth. 

Calum takes the plate, skin feeling warm at the eyes watching from under their lashes. A mug of coffee--just a little brown but still dark--settles into his palm. There’s no way around the inevitable so Calum carries on to the table. The big table is clear, as the rest of the morning staff are huddled around the kitchen island and counter. With his plate settled though on the table, behind the group, he watches you. You move back to preparing food, pulling the scraps of paper from waiting hands. 

“Checks now or you’re not getting fed again until lunch,” you tease, collecting four more from the miniature crowd. 

He shouldn’t. And it’s less that he shouldn’t and more like he thinks it might be too much. But it’s what he’d normally do. Much like you did. You’d normally hand him a plate of breakfast. You’d hand him a cup of coffee just like he likes. And in return, he’d fetch a mug for you--a splash of milk, two creamers, sugar till the ancestors tell him to stop. He’d slip you two pieces of his bacon and get toast going if he has time. You’re a light eater in the morning, but he never wants to leave without you eating. 

Before Calum can convince himself otherwise though, he’s grabbing the mug--a clear one that he also gets for you--and adds coffee to it. He watches the dark color fade with the milk and creamer. He’s reaching over you to get the sugar and takes four spoonfuls to him. Then goes for a little extra because his gut tells him he can add a little bit more. When that’s the right color, he goes for the bread and takes out two slices. The dial is already set from all his previous mornings so he slots the slices in and starts the toaster.  Calum goes into the fridge, notices the jelly is still there and retrieves it. It’s a rhythm that he knows well. But  there’s no moment that Calum’s not acutely aware of the extra eyes on him. When the toaster pops, Calum plates the dark brown pieces next to the two slices of bacon and gives each of them a good spread of jelly. He sets it down--out of the way of your prepped ingredients, but close enough to you that you can get to it with ease. 

You reach for the mug almost instantly after the plate is settled. Calum waits for the three smacks you’ll give followed by a head nod and it’s how he knows it’s good. Your head tilts for a moment this time though. The smoke rises just a little from the bacon you’re cooking. “There’s more sugar than usual?”

“The ancestors told me to give a little more,” Calum answers. 

You nod, taking another sip and hum. “Tell them I said thank you.” You gnash into a piece of bacon and go back to your work. 

“God, they make breakfast for each other. It’s so cute I’m going to be sick.” Calum doesn’t know who said it, but it’s all the room needs. The tension seems to melt as the laughter bubbles. 

“When will it be my turn?” another voice quips.

Calum watches the grin on your face, though you're flipping over french toast and plating bacon, he can still see the amusement on your face because of the comments. This is what he wants for you. People who support you. There’s no malice here. Perhaps, that’s what you want too and why you asked him not to tell you about more pictures. Satisfied that you’re actually eating during your work, Calum slips back to his own food. Though he’d like to help, he’s sure he’d only really get in the way. 

“French toast, eggs, no bacon,” you call out. The hand shoots up to claim the plate. “Pancakes, no bacon, no eggs.” And down the list you go, calling out what you’ve got until the kitchen settles into the click of forks against ceramic plates. 

It seems to be a system--Calum’s not sure if it’s one that the staff has built long ago, or just one for today, but as each one finishes, they take their plates back to the sink, working in rounds to wash and dry and wash and dry. But it’s a little fascinating to watch each person know when it’s their turn to wash and then rotate to dry the dishes. It’s effortless work amongst the group.

“I can take the plate for you if you're done, Your Highness.”

“Oh, no, I’ve got it. Thank you,” Calum returns to the offer. 

There’s a moment of confusion, but it seems to settle quickly. The room empties the moment the doors open and Calum’s father enters. Though everyone greets him, it’s clear that everyone feels a bit like being in school having the teacher walk in. But you remain, turning to the counter where yet another waiting plate resides. 

“Seems like quite the commotion this morning,” his father quips, pausing at the kitchen table at his normal spot. He doesn’t sit just yet. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Calum returns. 

“Your Royal Majesty,” you greet Calum's father, setting the plate down to the table where the King usually sits. A cup of coffee follows it too. 

“Thank you. And I know we’ve yet to have more informal introductions, but please, do call me David.”

You nod. “Alright, well in that case, are we doing orange juice or water this morning, David?”

“Oh, I’ll get it in a moment. No need to worry. But do you think perhaps, I could steal a moment of your time?”

“Certainly,” you agree. Yet, you remain standing too. The table remains between two of you--Calum’s dad on the interior side closest to the wall the table sits near, Calum on the exterior side. 

“C’mon, sit for a minute,” David offers, waving to the seat across from him. You settle on the bench and slide across from David. 

Calum can only watch, unsure of what will transpire. He’s praying his father is nicer than the initial conversations they shared. They weren’t bad, yet somehow more tense than Calum imagined them going. 

“I know there’s probably much better times to do this,” David starts, settling into his seat. “But Joy’s much better at the planning than I am. I wanted to speak with you though. I don’t know what Calum tells you or what he doesn’t of course. But I’m sure you’re aware your position is unique. I only want my boy happy, but I musn’t be so blinded by that desire that I abandon my duties as his father. You’re a hard worker. You came to us with glowing reviews from all your previous employers. Came from pretty high places if I do say so myself. I’ve eaten at your old restaurant a time or two, most likely while you were working there too. Joy seems to approve of you very much. Yet, there’s still a lot none of us know. That worries me.”

“Dad, please,” Calum interjects. 

“Calum,” David warns. It only takes his name and Calum knows he can’t interject. He wants to save you. Because this is the same thing they’ve been circling privately for weeks now. Calum knows you’ll tell more when you’re ready--and given what he’s already learned there’s a lot more. But you’re not trying to be facetious. 

“I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. I want to be fair about this,” David continues directly to you.

You sit, unwavering. Calum watches over your face as you listen to his father and your breathing never hitches, you never shy away from the words. He inches his hand forward, a small sign that he’s still there. If you do see it, you never let on that you do. “What would you like to know?” It’s a simple question but Calum knows everything that comes behind it. Or at least, he knows the dam that’s going to be cracked. 

There’s a silence much too long and Calum turns to his dad. Perhaps, your direct attitude is something that even his father was prepared for. “Well, for starters, I guess it would be nice to know what brought you to us.”

“My parents found out where I was working before and that prompted me to start looking for a new job.”

Where his mother is perceptive, attune to what’s not being said, Calum knows his father is a little more clumsy. And as his father speaks, Calum can’t help but cringe. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It is.”

“But Joy says you still interact with your siblings--Charlie and Teagan, right?”

“Yes,” you nod. “I’m only involved with my siblings.”

“So why not your parents?”

Even to Calum it comes out a little harsh, a little unsure of whether it’s meant to be caring or stern. “Dad,” Calum returns. “I know you want answers, but there’s better tones.”

His father sputters for a moment before uttering an apology. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hostile.”

“No, I understand,” you answer. “My parents drank horrible and they’re not good drunks either. I don’t know how many odd years it was because I got pulled by Child Services to go into foster care at 14. And I stayed in foster care until 18. I got the adult assistance, abysmal as it was, if I can say. Got myself into school, and now I’m here. Because a few years ago, my parents found out where I was working.”

“And your siblings? Did they get pulled too?”

“They were born after I was placed into the system. There’s a twenty year gap between me and Charlie. Twenty-two between me and Teagan.”

“Are they well taken care of? Your siblings?”

“They seem to be. There’s a family vacation in two weeks, apparently that they’re very excited for.”

Calum knows where this is going. He can feel the gears in his father’s head moving. “We can’t assume,” he whispers. “You can’t assume.”

“I mean, if their siblings are being taken care of,” his father offers softly. 

“I spent a lot of years wondering what I’d do if I ever saw my parents again,” you interject. Both Calum and his father turn to face you now. “The truth is, as much as I am fucking angry at them for what they did to me--hardly fed, barely bathed, more money spent on booze, physical and violent arguments right in front of me--I’m also not a child anymore. They had the chance to be parents to me when I needed them and they chose the bottle. You may not like to here this, David, but the reality is that adults choose to become parents. You made the choice to become a parent just like my parents did. But it is not the child's responsibility to make parents act like parents. It’s not a child's job to beg for care. But if parents choose not to care for their children, then children must make choices for themselves.”

You lean into the table, elbows and forearms settling into the wood. Your eyes are watery, Calum can see the tears collecting on your lashes. Your voice quakes as you continue on. “As you know, all choices have a consequence. My parents want a relationship with me. I see it. It burns them when I don’t go inside of the house for more than twenty minutes. They hate that I don’t call them Mom and Dad. I do not call them on their birthdays. I only speak to them to speak to Charlie and Teagan. And I begged for my parents when Child Services took me away. I cried for them. They had every chance to get sober and get me. I heard it in the meetings through the door. They came four times to get me but wouldn’t get help. They wouldn’t fucking stop drinking so they could get me back. They made their choices and I have made mine.”

“And if they’re sorry? And if they want to make it right?” his dad asks. 

You shrug. “As long as they continue to take care of Charlie and Teagan like they should, like good parents, I’ll be happy. But there’s nothing left I can give to them or that they can give to me.”

“I’m sorry your parents weren’t there. They should’ve been. They should’ve been there.”

You nod, sniffling back most likely snot and tears. Calum pushes a napkin into your hand before moving out from his side of the table. “I’m okay, Calum.”

It’s not enough to stop him though, as he draws up a glass of water and slips down next to you, a hand rubbing at your back. “You are hard headed, you know,” you tease. Your laughter is thick and wet as it leaves you. 

“I’ve been told a time or two,” Calum offers, pushing the glass closer to you. You take the hint and take a sip. Calum takes your free hand under the table into both of his, swallowing your hand and squeezing tight. He’s here. Even if you really are doing the heavy lifting, Calum’s not going anywhere. It’s a weighty resolution that falls into the pit of Calum’s stomach. He’s not going anywhere. 

“I wish it were a more scandalous story, David. Wish I could tell you I really had an elaborate scheme to trick your son into dating me, hell maybe even falling in love just to try and stage a coup,” you joke. 

“Hell, you’d still have time,” his  father jokes. “Thank you. For giving me grace. And hearing me out.”

“You care, like you’re supposed to as a father. I get it. Is-is there anything else? Need my time and place of birth to do my birth chart?”

A head shake no comes first.n“No, no I don’t think I need to go that far. But I’d like to get this recipe. I’ve finally gotten word it’s yours and you’re tight lipped.”

You laugh, squeezing Calum’s hands too. “It’s a family recipe, I’m afraid.”

The pure look of offense is clear on his father’s face is wide before it slides down into mischief. “I’ll get it soon enough. Pretty sure of it.”

“You go from integrating them to now suddenly being sure you’re going to get a secret recipe?” Calum questions with a laugh. 

“No, son, a family recipe. There is a difference. A difference you can make.”

“A confident man,” you tease. “I hate to do this but I do have a few more things to get squared away before my shifts end. And I don’t want to keep you from your breakfast.”

“Of course, of course. Thanks again.”

You nod. “Of course.” 

As you start to turn out from the table, Calum tugs just a little on your hand. You face him, the grin a little tight no doubt from the drying tracks of tears on your face. “Yeah?”

“You going home after this?”

“Maybe? I do have to be ready for Miranda at 4:30 later,” you answer. 

“Stay. Won’t have to drive all the way home and then back. Saving on gas isn’t so terrible.”

You cup his cheek and Calum nuzzles just a little into the warmth. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and he’s sure the scratch may not be entirely pleasant. “You’re fishing.”

“Just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’ve got more days of being okay under my belt than not being okay. But I’ll stay. And I really do need to get the last of the dishes cleaned, though. So, do I have permission to finish up my job before Janet fires me?”

Calum snorts, holding your hand still to press a kiss to your palm. “Fine.  You do have a valid excuse. But I’ll clean up if you want to go freshen up first.”

“Oh, I’ve--”

Calum raises a brow. “I have washed dishes before. I distinctly remember my mother getting me on a step stool in this very kitchen so she could teach me. It won’t kill me.”

“I don’t want you to be late.”

Calum shrugs. “We’re in a stand still in votes right now. I really don’t think they’ll be made if I’m five minutes late.”

“Three if you let me escape to the bathroom now. And take the extra two as a change for another time.”

“Go,” Calum commands with a laugh. His lips find your palm again in another kiss--it’s brief and faint that even Calum’s not sure if he reached your skin or not. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Thank you, sire.”

Calum won’t forget that tease, and he will make sure he gets clarity on if you mean the double entendre. He’s sure you do though. His father laughs a little. Before Calum can question what is funny, his father is speaking, “Oh, I’m getting that recipe within the next year tops.”

“If I discover you and Mum have an engagement pool, I swear.”

There’s only a shrug. But Calum gathers his plate and mug before there’s any further discussions. Maybe his father liked you more than Calum originally estimated. Though, Calum’s not entirely upset about his father’s apprehension. It just frustrated Calum that he couldn’t get this information organically. He wants you to trust me. It’s important that the information is shared in the moments where you feel safest to share them.  Does it bother you? Calum hopes it doesn’t bother you. That you don’t feel cornered. But he’d understand if you did. 

“You don’t think I was too harsh, do you?” 

Calum stops his work on the fork and turns to face his father. “I could answer that, but it seems like maybe you already have a feeling about it.”

“I know you care about them. But I needed to know.”

“You have every right to worry, Dad. You do. But you have to trust me. If I make a mistake, then that’s on me. I know it gets infinitely more complicated because of our status. But please trust me. I don’t want to compound on their feelings like they don’t belong. And I hate to feel like a child. I know I haven’t told you a lot but there’s a lot that I didn’t think was my place to share.”

“Could I have a bit of your expertise though? I feel like maybe I need to make it up.”

Calum nods, his exhale rolling down his shoulders. “Stick to Dad jokes. I’ve got a feeling those might be a winner.”

“Perhaps a round of golf?” his father offers. 

“Well, I don’t know how to play,” you state. Calum turns, not realizing how quickly you’d returned back to the kitchen. Your hand brushes along his back, but your focus is on his father. “So if you’re up for the challenge of teaching me then I guess I could be convinced.”

It seems to be enough of an agreement that it brings a smile to his father’s face. “I taught Calum.”

“I thought that was soccer,” you tease. 

“Oh I couldn’t teach that. But we’ll schedule something, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“How much of that did you hear?” Calum questions in a whisper. You check his hip with yours and he goes with ease. 

“Just enough,” you answer, taking the fork Calum had paused on. Calum’s not sure what just enough means, but he takes it that you’ve heard what you needed to hear. Picking up the drying towel, Calum starts to dry off the last bits of the dishes. “I plan on stealing a shirt,” you comment. “Since I’m now staying. If you have a preference on which one I take, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Premeditated theft? I’ll have you know I ought to call the authorities,” Calum laughs. 

“Yet you won’t.”

“But I could. Anything in the middle two drawers of my black dresser are free game though.”

“I look forward to unearthing your dirty secrets. What kind of skeletons do you have in those drawers?”

Calum snickers, placing the mug he’s dried off back into the cabinet. The conversation is mostly in whispers though, in the relatively quiet kitchen Calum is sure it’s not as private as he’s hoping it to be. But nevertheless, he won’t let the volley fall. There is a score to keep, a game to win. Carrying back to the dish rack, Calum plucks the plate fingers noticing that it’s hardly wet at all. 

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Calum whispers. 

You snort at the comment, shoulders shaking with the laughter you don’t release loudly. “Oh God. Don’t you have some stuffy meeting to get ready for? Some Prime Ministers to coddle?”

He should get going. He did need to ensure that his notes were in order. But that doesn’t mean he can’t take a few extra seconds to make you laugh, to ensure he leaves you on a good note after a rough bump in the day. “I left instructions with the Nanny,” Calum quips, slotting the plate away. “But I probably should get ready.”

“Hope today is a kind one,” you return. 

“Hope you sleep well.” 

They feel adjacent to prayers, if not prayers directly to the universe over each other. But Calum hopes that whomever in the universe is in charge of listening to such things takes note of the prayers you two have dropped for each other. Calum thinks about it while slipping into his clothes, buttoning the shirt up and over the under shirt, he whispers more and more hopes for you. He hopes that you sleep so deeply that he has to wake you. He hopes that your muscles don’t ache when you settle in for sleep and when you wake. He hopes the water is the right pressure for your shower, and the right temperature. He hopes that the sheets are just cool enough to lull you to sleep and warm with your heat to keep you under. He hopes that don’t think twice about needing to use his mouth wash or his body wash. He hopes that the pillow is always cool for you. 

_______________________________________

When your morning shift coworkers return, officially on the clock and taking over for the lunch preparation, you think you’ll get cornered again. Not that you truly felt cornered in the morning. You did have your job to focus on and that was reason enough for people to give you space. However, you wondered if your answers of taking things slow and you’ll have to take me to court would actually placate the crowd. It seems to have. Though the smiles that come your way carry an air of mischief, no one asks more questions. You’re grateful for it. Though you know it might only be a matter of time before someone doesn’t back off. 

You’ll have to talk to Calum, see what the meeting today with Miranda brings about. The thought lingers through in the back of your head. Perhaps, you’ll need to find another place to work. Though, if you do, will that really solve the problem? Perhaps, you’ll always be doomed just a little to have to field such invasiness. Those thoughts are much too heavy for your brain at this moment. You hadn’t anticipated David bringing up that topic of conversation earlier in the day. Though you always knew Calum’s father was the most apprehensive of his parents, you’d wondered if you’d get a bit more grace. 

Your mind is lagging behind your body, all of the energy spent on getting you through your tasks and now you’ve got nothing left. Though you slept well before your shift, you’re ready for your brain to shut off again. Your parents are human too, you know that. You know they will not be perfect beings. But you can’t help the wounded child that still howls within you. The thing about all of this is that you were much too tired to consider what your parents might want from you. Having spent so much of what felt like should’ve been your youth in survival mode, you’re desperate to leave it behind. What your parents did, or didn’t do, what your parents want and don’t want don’t matter anymore. You’re your own person. 

You take the elevators up--you won’t punish yourself with the stairs today. As the door slip shut, you recline your head into the metal walls. As silly as it is, you find yourself thinking back to the first time you ascended the levels with Calum. How he pressed in close to you, hands slipping around your body and kissing you like he wouldn’t be breathing if he didn’t kiss you. You felt wanted, desired. Someone wanted you. Someone still wants you. Your skin is still bruised along your chest from Calum’s kisses. Though it was only two days, they’re lingering, much to Calum’s delight. 

It’s an addictive feeling. A high that you want to consume you constantly. You want to be wanted. And you want Calum too. Though the lines are cheesy sometimes, and God is he good with a cheesy line, he listens. He takes you so gently when you need it, tucked into his chest and you know you’re safe. What a feeling to have in the presence of another, to feel safe. You’re glad Calum was there when his father questioned you. You know you had someone, even if they didn’t get it, that would keep you safe.

The water is cooler. Something to cut through the heat of your chef’s coat. The coolness makes you sigh under the running water. You only stand there for a moment, letting the water run down your body as you try and let it wash down all the heaviness of the morning. You want all of it to fall into the drains. There will be plenty to worry about when you meet with Miranda. There will be plenty to worry about when you take Calum to the park for your date. Sure any date has been months in the making, but you worry in the back of your brain that this will also somehow get photographed. Maybe there’s no reason for it. Maybe even if you do get photographed there will be nothing you could’ve done to prevent it. 

With the shower done and into fresh undergarments--a stash you brought over to last week for purposes like this-- and Calum’s body wash scent clinging to your skin, you crawl up into the bed. The sheets smell fresh, though you can catch the faint, faint lingering of Calum’s scent into the threads. Perhaps, they’re only a day out from being washed. You’re not really sure. You don’t really care. You just sink into the feeling. That like Calum would be coming into the room anytime now. Like his arms will drape over you. Like it’ll just be the rise and fall of your chest into his. 

Your phone rattles from the stand and you push from the mattress with a slight start. You think you’ll need to change the tune, but damn does this one do the job. You clear the crust from your eyes and flop back down into the mattress. Light filters into the room and you turn towards it. Your phone finally falls silent as you press the volume buttons on the side. 

“Did I wake you?”

You shake your head at Calum’s question. Your eyes clear after another blink and see the black suit he’s dawned--head to toe black it seems. “No, my alarm just went off. Also, if you are calling the cops on me for when I raid your drawers, you need to also call to lock yourself up for being so damn handsome.”

Calum laughs, the breath brushing over your temple. “You’re getting five more minutes, then I’m going to have to drag you out of bed.”

“No,” you mutter, pressing your face deeper into the pillow. 

“Yes.” It’s all Calum says before he presses a kiss to your skin. The bed releases his weight. You watch him walk around the bed until he’s behind you. You can only hear the drawers pull open and then close. Another one opens and closes before it falls relatively silent. You lay, arms wound around the pillow only for a moment more before you push up fully. 

You watch the dagger tattoo on his bicep as it flexes, working the dress shirt off his torso. “I never said thanks this morning. But I do appreciate your extra time,” you confess to Calum’s back. 

Calum turns, threading one arm into a powder blue button up sleeve. His eyes are soft as he looks over you. “You can be honest. Did my dad go too far?”

“David’s no Joy,” you answer. While you’re sure the intentions are in the right place, there’s still a little bit of a sting in your chest. You hadn’t realized how important it was to his father. Yet, you weren’t ready to peel that band aid off fully. You were picking at the corners, the bandage was peeling, but not not ready. 

Calum’s exhaled laughter doesn’t feel all that humorous. “Yeah, he’s sometimes a bit of a bulldozer. I’m sorry again.”

“Not your fault,” you concede, pulling the sheets away from your body. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Your descent from the bed is quiet before you head over to the black dresser. You’ve never previously been into Calum’s clothing. But the first drawer slides open and the stacks stare back up at you. One top of one pile is a black t-shirt, with Drop Dead screened onto the front. You lift it to get a look below and notice another black t-shirt that peers back across it in red comic sans is the word: watermelon. You snort at the shirt and peel up another layer. A Nine Inch Nail t-shirt you assume by the NIN monogram into the chest. 

“Into the band tee, I see,” you comment as you pull up more and more music themed t-shirts.

“I like music, sue me,” Calum laughs. 

You move over to another pile, briefly to take in a white t-shirt with Taste Testers on the front. There’s more words, but you’re not sure what the full shirt says. You go down another and spot a cute dog printed onto the material. You’d never seen a dog on the grounds, or heard of one. The question burns your throat, but you wonder if the cute gray, white, and black face staring back at you is a childhood pet lost to the unfortunate test of time. Around you, you catch the scent of Calum’s cologne. Light, but still musky. You think he might’ve refreshed on it. 

“You’d tell me if I was pushing a hard line, right?” you ask, turning to face Calum who’s know shuffling out of his attached bathroom. 

“Yeah, I would. What’s up?”

You pull out the white t-shirt with the dog. “Hard line?” you ask, wanting to know if you can even press the topic. 

“Duke,” Calum answers. “He was a grumpy old man when he got up there, but I loved him. I nicknamed him baby grandpa in his last few years. We had him until I was about nineteen or so. I think Mum and Dad got him when I was three.”

“A solid sixteen years, huh?”

“The best sixteen years,” Calum smiles. It’s wobbly. You can hear it in his voice. Placing the shirt back into the drawer, you reach for the Drop Dead t-shirt and dawn it with no thought. It’s holy, across the shoulders, back, chest, and torso, almost swallowing your torso, but you don’t think twice about it before crossing the room to give Calum a hug. 

“I’m glad it was the best,” you whisper into his neck. His face is pressed into your shoulder. Calum’s curling around your body in the hold but you don’t say much else, as you rub your hand up and down his spine. 

There was no space or time or energy for a pet when you were younger. Though you loved hanging out with your friend’s pets, something you understood long before you had the language for it, was that there was just no time for that kind of thing for you. Your parents weren’t capable of that then. 

“Thank you,” Calum returns to you in a whisper. It vibrates up through the meat of your shoulder. Grief, you’ve learned, is not linear. It doesn’t really shrink but other things get bigger around it. You are able to put grief into the context of your life but it never loses its own gravity either. 

You finish getting dressed, slipping into the jeans you’d been in previously. Just as you slip into clean socks and back into your shoes, Calum starts to kneel in front of you. “What are you doing?” you laugh, watching him chase after your feet. You turn up into his desk to hide the laces away. 

“Just give me your foot,” Calum laughs, fingers wrapping around your ankles. He’s got a firm enough grip that he could force it you assume. But he doesn’t. “We can’t be late. Miranda will have my head.”

You definitely don’t want to be late either. So you turn. Calum takes your left foot and begins twisting the laces around each other. You can’t really help either, can’t bring your foot up to tie your right and you can’t bend over. “Is there anything I need to know about Miranda?” you ask. 

“Not too tight?” Calum asks in return. You shake your head no and he moves onto the right shoe. “Miranda’s going to be doing most of the talking. If she asks a question, there’s an 80% chance she doesn’t actually need an answer.”

“The other twenty?”

“That’s a toss up. Either she's asking because she does or because she wants to catch you in a lie.”

“Ah, so there’s no reason not to attempt to answer lest I make myself an asshole.”

Calum grins up at you, finished now with your shoes. “Exactly.”

The two of you file out of his room and you let Calum direct the way. You’re still apprehensive about the handholding, not that you don’t love the physical contact, but it feels like it’s a spotlight following the two of you. You cannot deny each other. Though, you think that’s the point for Calum. He doesn’t want to deny you--as simple as that. But you carry on down to the elevators hand in hand. 

Calum squeezes your hand as the elevator pauses to settle before the doors open. “You look good in my clothes.”

“You said the same thing about me being in your room.”

“No,” Calum laughs, “I said you in my bedroom was a sight I could get used to. I fear if you wear any more of my clothing, I will die. I won’t be able to recover.”

You scoff, all playful tufts of laughter escaping you. “I am CPR certified.”

“Good to know.”

No sooner than Calum can knock the door creaks open. “Yes, yes, the lovely couple. C’mon in.” Miranda’s just as tall as Calum if not a bit taller. And you’ve never been insecure about your height, but standing there you wonder if she’s the lead on PR simply because she could make grown men feel like they could be swallowed up. But Miranda moves from the door seemingly uncaring if you two actually enter or not. Calum waves you in front of you and you cross the threshold to hear Miranda still going, “I apologize for the abruptness of this matter. But gossip waits for no one.”

You settle into the seat across from her desk and Calum follows suit next to you. “I’m starting to realize,” you return. 

“I’ve heard there was a buzz this morning among some staff. You’re okay? Nothing bad happened?”

“No,” you answer simply but it’s not like you’ve talked at all. 

“Good. I think I would’ve heard if it had. But I had to make sure. So, first thing first, social medias--all I could muster up for you seems to be a well abandoned Twitter account. Hasn’t been used in 8 years. No Facebook. No Instagram. No abandoned SnapChat. No kik. No WhatsApp. I did check your number from your employee file. I checked AO3, Tumblr, TikTok. I mean I went to the edges of the earth. You’re a ghost,” Miranda laughs. “Well almost.”

“It’s-it’s for my safety,” you return. 

Miranda nods, grabbing a tablet from her desk and bringing it almost right up to her face. Your eyes flicker around to see if you can spot glasses but you don’t. Not on her desk at least. “Yes, well. That makes my job that more interesting.”

“Who do you communicate the most with? You’d say?” Miranda asks. 

“Oh, uh, Calum. And there’s my roommates, but we’re mostly just cordial.”

“Hmm, didn’t know about the roommates. How have they been? Any strange behaviors?”

“No? We really only see each other in passing because of my work schedule.”

Miranda hums and then places the tablet down. Her arms fold over her chest as she reclines back into the seat. “Parents? That who you’re hiding from?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak with them at all?”

“As necessary,” you answer. 

“For I assume the two siblings listed in your file.” You nod at what is clearly not a question but you want to affirm what Miranda’s already aware of. “Alright, well, regardless if you don’t have plans to talk to too many people, we still need you to go through the media training. It’s going to be boring. But it will be important. The thing to keep in mind is if you do say something, they’ll use it against you. If you don’t  say something, they’ll use it against you. It is the nature of the beast.”

“Figured as much,” you comment, mostly to yourself. Though you’d avoided looking for those photos, you’re sure you can imagine what they might say. 

“The thing we’re focusing efforts on is that this will hit like wildfire. The prince dating is international fucking news. Our angle for the time being is to keep quiet. There’s nothing that has to come out about this from us. Who Calum decides to date is not really much of our concern. But given your position as staff, we do have to be extremely careful. I’m still waiting on HR’s final position on what your next steps. Can you believe that? Told them it was urgent and they still told me fuck off. Ridiculous.”

“Next steps as in if I’ll need to find a new job?”

“In essence, yes, depending on how HR sees this they don’t want any lawsuits.”

“Whoa,” Calum interjects. He’d remained mostly quiet. You'd assume nothing about what Miranda had been saying was shocking or new to him. Until now, of course. Until now. “We can’t really be assuming that they can just find a new job on a whim.”

“Honestly, Calum, HR can make such assumptions. I have asked for reasonable accommodations should they come to a decision that requires new employment. But that’s just a risk. It would be a conflict of interest legally speaking. If you wish to continue to date, then the long and short is that someone’s interest must realign,” Miranda explains. 

It’s the way she says it, like she’s not sure what else Calum expects, that makes you realize that in the grand scheme of things, perhaps he had a more optimistic view on this situation than you. You’d had it festering in the back of your mind that change would have to come should you wish to continue to date Calum. And that you do want, you want to keep dating Calum. Because it’s the best damn thing you've had in a long time. 

Calum pushes forward in his seat and you reach out for his knee. It stills him just enough for you to speak first. “I can start looking now.” It burns to say those words. You're not trying to make a scene though. You don't need to lose it in here in front of Miranda.

“Baby, what a second? Is there even any place for you to go? And we don’t even know what they’re classifying as a reasonable accommodation. You’ve been here for years.”

“I still have some connections. I could try and go back to my old job if really necessary. I could do something else should the situation demand it. But as someone who’s dealt with HR are few times, let me be the first to tell you HR is there to protect the company. HR will protect you over me. In a heartbeat.” It's bile on your tongue, but it's true. It's all fucking true. They'll protect Calum and their asses before yours.

His brows furrow and you know it’s true anger, you know Calum is truly frustrated. But you wish his glasses weren’t so rose colored. Perhaps, this would be the way to scratch those lenses. “It’s not fair,” he huffs. 

You snort. “And who said anything about this being fair?”

“It should be fair,” he retorts. 

“It should,” you concede. It should be fair but it’s not. It will never be fair. You turn back to Miranda. “Will this be mailed to me as a letter? What HR concludes?”

Miranda nods. “I’ll make sure you get a copy. But you’ll start looking now?” She’s gone to her computer, shaking the mouse to get the machine to awake from slumber. 

“Yes, I’ll start looking now. When will media training be?”

Miranda slides in close to the screen. “I really ought to unearth those reading glasses. For fuck sake. But, to answer your question, dear, it’s going to be next week. Janet’s still working on getting your Monday shift covered for you. But you’re looking at Tuesday, 11 AM sharp. It’ll go until 4PM that day. Lunch will be provided to you. During your search, please use us though. I know it’s not fair, but Janet adores you and if you can please use her as a reference. I’m having an intern compile a list of up and coming restaurants in the area. They may be looking for some extra help.”

You know the dangers of up and coming. They’ll hire bodies just to have people. “Any places a bit more established?” you ask. 

“Our criteria were businesses in operation for at least 3 years. I told her the sweet spot might be about 5 or so. We don’t want to throw you to the wolves,” Miranda’s face falls her nod sympathetic. 

“It certainly still seems like we are,” Calum retorts. 

“I do wish I could give you sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. But that’s not the real world works. So, I’m waiting for HR. And until then, it’s best that we prepare for the worst.”

You nod. Prepare for the worst, but it doesn't temper the frustration in your stomach.

“So, Tuesday is media training for you. Calum, you’ll need a refresher after we get into breaks. Prepare. Our position is quiet. We don’t want to make waves until HR tells us how to proceed. This does mean that you won’t be able to talk to your roommates about it," Miranda states.

“A gag order?” Calum questions. 

Miranda continues on though. “We will need to vet your roommates again. I think they got a call when you first applied. Once you get a new position, things may open up a bit more from there. And Calum, if it were a gag order, you’d see the NDA on my desk. I’m trusting the two of you about this. It’s not fun to deliver this news. But it is what it is. Because we’re playing the silent game we have to make sure there will be no leaks internally.”

You’re nodding, you can feel it. But it feels a bit numb, like the world is going to white noise out around you soon. 

Miranda’s continuing on. “When we call your roommates, we’ll just say it’s a renewal process--run of the mill. Maybe don’t boast about looking for a new job. And if you do land something fast, we can all just say that you were ready to move on and no ruffled feathers.”

You do have rent to pay. You’d like to at least get through the end of the month so you can pay that. Not only that, but you’ll miss the good health insurance too. But perhaps, it could give you and Calum normal times to hang out, dates may be more frequent. It may be worth looking at the positives to ensure you don’t find this as a reason to run. You know you could. You know you could say that you can’t afford to lose this job. You know you can say that this is all fucked. But would you be able to come back from that? If you run now, are you leaving behind everything? 

You’re not even sure when or how you get out of Miranda's office. But you know you’re in the hallway, listening to other doors close. Shoes strike the floor. In the blurry field of your vision, you can see briefcases and backpacks bouncing around you. “This is all so fucked,” you huff. “It’s all so fucked up.” The words hiss off your teeth and tongue. 

Even if you know you can land on your feet from a fall, you don’t even want to fall. It’s not even your own doing. You’re having to fall because of a push. The easy thing is to push away. You can feel your gut coiling, like it wants to push you to run away. But you keep telling yourself that if you run now, there may be no coming back. Though you believed it was sometimes better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission, you could only imagine the hurt you’d cause. Calum stands in front of you with a transparent beating heart and you don’t have the guts, nor the desire, to break it. 

“I don’t like this one bit,” you huff out. “Nothing else is going to pay as good as this. And let me tell you, this job is still not paying all that great. But it’s better than where I was.”

“I can talk to someone,” Calum offers. “There’s gotta be something.”

“I was thinking about it,” you start, taking a few steps from Miranda’s door. “I was thinking that I might have to switch jobs just to keep things kosher. But now it’s not even voluntary. I have to leave.”

Warmth envelopes your hand. You turn into Calum, squeezing at his hand as you do. “What do you mean you thought about it?” he asks. 

“I wondered if it would be a good idea to leave now before things got more serious so that we could go out, do things, not have to hide so much. But I wanted- I wanted it to be a conversation. I wanted to have a say in that ask that I at least get sixty days or something to make the transition. But if HR’s already discussing that, I don’t know, it just makes me angry. The choice was taken from me.”

“We can still go to them.”

The thing you won’t do is beg. Not for a job. Not for people that probably don’t really care about you at all. It’s pride--a stupid emotion--but yet, yout skin still crawls at the prospect. “I-I don’t think I’m thinking straight right now,” you answer. It could be productive to go to HR, but even you already know the shit they do is not for employee benefit. It may turn out to be like talking to a brick wall. 

“Okay. We’ll figure this out. We’ll figure this out,” Calum offers. 

You nod. “We will. But that doesn’t mean you get to go pulling strings behind my back, please.”

“We always figure it out,” Calum returns, kissing the top of your forehead. It’s not lost on your that he doesn’t promise not to get involved solely. You could push it. But then you’d be making Calum a liar. And you don’t want to do that. You don’t want to make him into a liar. 

But there’s still the picnic date. Even if next week turns your world upside down, assuming HR finalizes by the weekend, you still have today. You’ve got tomorrow and things for right now are the same as they’ve been over the last four months. It feels way too soon to be making changes to jobs and worrying about the gossip over the entertainment world but this is the word Calum’s in. You’ll have to be worried about it no matter how soon it feels. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Calum asks. 

“Yes,” you return, “Preparing for our date.”

“Preparing? What do you have planned?”

You laugh. “I’m not telling you a second sooner sir. But I do need to run and grab a few things this evening for it.”

“And let me guess, I don’t get any hints do I? No sneak peaks?”

“Nope, none,” you return. 

Calum groans, but nods his acceptance. “You’ll let me know when you get home though, right?”

“Of course,” you return. 

The steps are heavy after you collect your belongings from Calum’s room. Your gut is still a choppy sea. Frustration keeps a tight hold, but you do your best to keep it at bay. Life was not always fair--a lesson you were far from a stranger to. Though, it never makes it any easier to handle. But you try and focus on the date--the picnic of Calum’s favorite that you’ll have. Your favorites mixed in too. You think about the painting you’ll show to him. You think about the song Calum will sing to you.

[teacupsandcyanide]

how to customise your blog from within the app

With the whole Twitter exploding into a million tiny pieces situation we’re seeing a lot of people who haven’t been around for a good while or are completely/mostly new to Tumblr, and I’ve been seeing a lot of posts from regular tumblrinas saying “please change from the default icon and settings, you look like a bot”. I’ve been wanting to make some posts about fun ways to customise your tumblr experience and I thought I’d start with a basic bitch tutorial on what you can customise from within the app.

To give the app version of your blog the equivalent of a sick new haircut, go to the lil guy who lives in the bottom right? (?? I think it’s the right. I have dyscalculia but I promise I’m otherwise mostly reliable) side of your dash. Give him a smack on his phat bald head to gain entry to your profile page. Then go to the paint palette icon at the top of your profile.

From here you can change four five things:

Your blog title. This is different from your url and it doesn’t have to match your url or be unique, unless you personally feel the need to be unique. You can change it by tapping it to start editing; when you do you’ll see three menus come up. “Title” is where you change what the title is. “Font” allows you to select a font and some of the fonts have a bolded option. “Colour” will give you a colour sampler to pick a colour from. You don’t have to have a title and you can turn it off under the “font” menu, but having one will make it clearer that you aren’t a bot, especially if you don’t choose “sexyangiebabymilf6969” for your title.

Your bio. I have a Van Gogh quote because I have a separate about page*, so I’m fine letting my bio just be a faintly pretentious smudge of mystique. Other people will often have whatever name they go by online, their pronouns, and sometimes their age and what their main interests are, eg fandom, hobbies, special interests, you know, the neurodiverse slut stuff. People also put links there sometimes using html coding*, like the kids put their caard and some people put ko-fi. You can change your bio by tapping on it to edit. You don’t have to have a bio and can turn it off, but if you have one people will be much less likely to think you’re a bot, and they’ll get some vague idea of who you are and what content you like to paste into your online scrapbook.

Your blog background colour. This can be changed by tapping on the “background” button.

Your accent colour. This can be changed by tapping on the “accent” button.

Your header image. This can be changed by tapping on your header, and you’re able to zoom into a chosen picture to or drag it to reposition. You can also turn off your header or choose whether or not to stretch the image to the necessary size.

Your icon/avatar. This can be changed by tapping on the icon. You can choose to hide your avatar on your profile (it will still be visible on the dash), and select a square or round frame.

Extra note on colour customising. You can pick out a truly custom colour by messing about with the slider and colour sampler, but if you want quick and easy or you’re shite at colour sampling you can click on the circles of colour above the slider to see a range of different preset shades, including greyscale. Each circle has a range of a few pages you can swipe through. If they all turn out to be shite you can go back to the slider by clicking the rainbow circle.

Each time you change an aspect of your profile and are satisfied with it, hit “update” up in the corner before moving to the next thing. Once all the edits are made save them by hitting “save”, also in the upper corner.

Resources for headers and icons can be found by looking through the “headers” and “icons” tags. Please follow the rules of the people who make and share those (they’re usually just “don’t claim it’s your edit, don’t repost, and leave a like or reblog” but each person has their own). I’d also recommend image searching for patterns, as you can tile your header if you use a seamless pattern image, and looking through livejournal for icons (again, please follow creator rules, icons take time to make).

*This post is hopefully a precursor to a post or numerous posts about how you can customise your blog outside the app appearance, including adding pages and using coding to put links wherever you want, and I plan to link to more resources for customisation in said post/s. When/if I get around to writing that I’ll drop a link in a comment or reblog of this post.

Godspeed, have fun finding out how much of the bee movie script you can fit in your bio I remain ever faithfully yours etc

[pynkhues]

#@thelillykane i know you were prompting shiv headcanons#but your ask has made me write fic set days after the finale where kendal od's and then shiv makes him take her to get an abortion#so i'm sorry but also what i'm writing is fixing me

THIS MADE ME CHOKE LAUGHING i support you i'm ready

THANK YOU, look it's already like, 8k words of Shiv and Kendall Going Through It, and I'm only halfway through, but anyway, have the opening scene:

-

The night after she slits her brother’s throat, feels her inheritance wrenched from her grip, watches her husband get crowned king through clear, unpolished glass, Shiv dreams of DC.

Dreams of it that first night in flickering fantasy, the end of a film reel, catching the thinnest part of the spool. Dreams of blue sky, the edge of a dripping chandelier, her hair longer than she’s ever kept it to block the chill of the air conditioning against the back of her neck. Feels the weight of a binder in her arms, hears the sound her heels make against marble floors, the wooden gavel hitting the block in the House of Representatives, dreams of eyes on her, hard but focused, attentive in meeting rooms, her own shoulders firm, her own words clear, certain, real, leaving her clear, certain, real mouth.

A hundred fractured pictures, memories, re-imaginings, that show up somewhere strange in her. A movie projected on the inside of her ribcage, broken up by the bones of her, and she fumbles, wants to close the gaps for a clearer image or wrench the reel from its place, she doesn’t know. Just something that makes a whole or nothing at all, something she can’t know, because she turns and there’s the light of Tom’s cell, blearing through the dark of their bedroom, the tap-tap-tap of his fingers on the keys like a creature trying to scratch its way into the theatre of her.

She swallows, awake now, but mouth still mothy with sleep, throat scratchy as she pushes awkwardly up onto her elbows.

“Matsson?” she asks, her voice thick, and Tom glances over his shoulder at her, an apologetic look on his face. He looks like shit, like he hasn’t slept in a week, which she knows he hasn’t. Right now, it helps.

“Yeah, he’s… European hours, I guess. Sorry, I can take this to another room.”

Shiv watches him watch her, keeps her expression carefully schooled, giving him nothing, and a million looks cross Tom’s face before he just nods, throwing the blankets back to pad out of the room, and she doesn’t watch. Doesn’t follow, not even as he opens their bedroom door and leaves it ajar in invitation, the hall light slicing across their bed, cutting her in two.

[juealhossain]

AI Pixel Perfect: Create Visuals That Drive Traffic Instantly

Have you ever wanted to create stunning images without needing expensive equipment or advanced Photoshop skills? Look no further! AI Pixel Perfect is here to help you create jaw-dropping visuals, artwork, banners, posts, logos, and much more in just 60 seconds.

What is the AI Pixel Perfect?

AI Pixel Perfect is a cloud-based AI image creator and editor. It helps you re-generate, enhance, and optimize images. With this tool, you can bring your creative ideas to life with just a few words.

 Key Features 

Stable Diffusion & DALL-E: Make great pictures from words.

Background Removal: Easily take away backgrounds from any photo.

AI Super Resolution: Make your pictures clearer and sharper.

GIF Generation: Turn pictures into fun moving GIFs.

AI Relight & Image Editing: Change the light in your pictures easily.

Benefits of Using AI Pixel Perfect

AI Pixel Perfect offers a wide range of benefits that can revolutionize your image creation process:

Revolutionize Your Image Creation: Create stunning images without needing expensive equipment or advanced Photoshop skills.

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AI Prompt to Stunning Images: Transform text prompts into beautiful images.

AI Image to Image: Enhance existing images and create new versions.

Unique Logos & Graphics: Build a strong brand identity with custom logos and graphics.

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Boost Advertising Campaigns: Generate high-quality ad visuals tailored to your marketing needs.

Why Choose AI Pixel Perfect?

AI Pixel Perfect is your all-in-one visual marketing agent. Here's why you should choose it:

Create pixel-perfect images from any random text in just three clicks.

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Enjoy 100% cloud-based functionality with zero download or installation hassles.

How AI Pixel Perfect Works

With AI Pixel Perfect, you can handle your marketing campaigns in just three easy steps:

Create: Input text prompts to generate AI video scripts and choose your preferred voice.

Transform: Watch as AI Pixel Perfect crafts beautiful images, human-like voiceovers, and background music into stunning videos in both vertical and horizontal formats.

Deploy: Use these videos on platforms like YouTube Shorts, Instagram Reels, TikTok, and more to drive traffic to your business.

Plus, you can sell these marketing services to eager clients without any monthly fees!

What You Get with AI Pixel Perfect

When you choose AI Pixel Perfect, you get access to a comprehensive suite of features:

Over 15 Cutting-Edge AI Models: Including Stable Diffusion, Dall-E, Animagine XL, and more.

Comprehensive Features: Image generation, background removal, logo creation, GIF generation, and advanced editing.

No Recurring Fees: Pay once and enjoy lifetime access to all updates and features.

Who Can Use It?

Video Marketers: Add cool images to make videos fun.

Social Media Marketers: Make amazing posts that catch eyes.

E-commerce Store Owners: Show your products with great pictures.

Agency Owners: Offer smart images to your clients easily.

Bloggers: Use cool images to make blogs more exciting.

What You Can Expect

AI Image Generator

AI Avatar Maker

AI Image Editor

Over 15 Million Stock Images

AI Video Maker

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AI Image Mixer

AI Image Upscaler

AI 3D Multiview

AI Face Maker

Frequently Asked Questions

What Is Ai Pixel Perfect?

AI Pixel Perfect is a cloud-based AI image creator and editor that generates, enhances, and optimizes images.

How Does Ai Pixel Perfect Work?

It uses advanced AI algorithms to transform text prompts into stunning visuals, logos, and graphics in seconds.

Can Ai Pixel Perfect Enhance Existing Images?

Yes, it enhances existing images, making them look fresh and professionally edited.

What Platforms Can I Use Ai Pixel Perfect On?

You can use it on websites, blogs, e-commerce stores, social media, and more.

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Yes, it's designed for both newbies and professional marketers with an intuitive interface.

How Many Stock Assets Does Ai Pixel Perfect Offer?

It provides access to over 15 million stock assets to boost your marketing campaigns.

Can I Create Logos With Ai Pixel Perfect?

Yes, you can generate unique logos and graphics to build a strong brand identity.

Do I Need Any Design Experience To Use Ai Pixel Perfect?

No, you can create professional images and graphics without any design experience.

Does Ai Pixel Perfect Offer A Commercial License?

Yes, it comes with an exclusive commercial license to provide high-demand services globally.

What Are The Payment Options For Ai Pixel Perfect?

It offers a low one-time payment with no hidden costs or monthly fees.

Conclusion

AI Pixel Perfect is the ultimate tool for anyone looking to create stunning visuals without the need for expensive equipment or advanced skills. With its cloud-based functionality, professional-quality results, and easy-to-use interface, AI Pixel Perfect can help you revolutionize your image creation process.

Don't miss out on this amazing opportunity. Try AI Pixel Perfect today and start creating jaw-dropping images in just 60 seconds!

[speed-seo]

Performance Advertising: Types, Strategies, and Best Practices

Performance advertising is quickly becoming one of the most effective digital marketing channels for businesses looking to drive measurable results and return on ad spend. But what exactly is performance advertising, and how does it work? Performance advertising refers to any paid digital marketing formats where advertisers only pay when users take a specific "performance" action, like clicking on an ad, signing up on a landing page, or making an online purchase. This pay-for-performance model differs from traditional advertising, where brands pay based on impressions or views regardless of outcome. With performance advertising, marketers have far greater transparency into the direct return generated by campaigns. Tracking clear conversion metrics like cost-per-lead and return on ad spend enables highly targeted efforts aimed at acquiring customers cost-efficiently. Major forms of performance advertising include search engine marketing, social media advertising, affiliate marketing, referral marketing and more. The strategies may differ, but the core benefit remains clear ROI based on concrete user actions tied to organizational goals. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the essentials of performance advertising, including: - Common types and advertising formats - Key strategies for success - Benefits over traditional advertising - Metrics and analysis best practices - Challenges to consider Understanding performance advertising allows marketers to tap into one of today's most accountable and results-driven forms of digital marketing. The ability to track conversions and optimize efforts based on hard data helps fuel better decision making. Whether just starting out or looking to improve existing efforts, this guide will equip you with insights to unlock the full potential of performance advertising. Let's dive in and explore what makes it a critical marketing channel for driving measurable business results. The Many Types of Performance Advertising With a clearer picture of what performance advertising entails, let's explore some of the major formats and advertising types that fall under this high-ROI digital marketing umbrella. 1. Search Engine Marketing - Driving Traffic from Google One of the largest categories of performance advertising is search engine marketing (SEM). This refers to ads shown in search engine results pages, namely Google Ads (formerly known as Google AdWords). Advertisers bid on keywords relevant to their business to trigger text, image, or video ads when people search for those terms. You pay only when searchers click your ad, making this a purely pay-for-performance model. SEM enables you to target people actively looking for your products or services. Tactics like hyper-targeted keywords, location-based ads, and remarketing help drive conversions cost-effectively. No wonder 81% of marketers say SEM is a core strategy for businesses, beacause it delivers excellent ROI (Source). SEM works seamlessly alongside organic search optimization (SEO) efforts. SEO improves your natural rankings, while SEM instantly places you in front of motivated searchers - fast. 👉 Pro Tip: Focus on long tail, low competition keywords with exact match SEM campaigns to find interested searchers while keeping costs down. 2. Social Media Advertising - Leverage Facebook, Instagram, & More After search, social media advertising is a mammoth performance channel. Platforms like Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and Pinterest all offer self-serve ad platforms. Social ads help you get your brand and offers in front of hyper-targeted audiences. You can define audiences by demographics, interests, behaviors and more. Ads come in a variety of formats - images, carousels, videos, and stories. And you only pay when users view, click, or engage with your ads in some way. The ability to test different creatives and messages cost-efficiently makes social advertising nimble. What about you? What social platforms have you used for advertising? Share your experiences in the comments! 3. Affiliate Marketing - How it works: Affiliates (publishers) promote a merchant's product or service by placing unique affiliate links on their websites, blogs, or social media. They earn a commission for each sale or lead that comes through their links. - Example: A beauty blogger writes a review about a new skincare product and includes their affiliate link within the post. 4. Native Advertising - How it works: Native ads blend seamlessly with the surrounding content on a website or platform. They are designed to look and feel like organic content rather than blatant advertisements. - Example: A sponsored article about healthy eating habits appearing within the lifestyle section of a news website. 5. Display Advertising - How it works: Advertisers use banner ads, rich media ads (including video or interactive elements), and other visual formats across a network of websites. Payment models can vary (PPC, CPM, etc.). - Example: An ad for a new running shoe appearing on a sports blog. Crafting a Winning Performance Advertising Strategy Now that we've covered the major types of performance advertising, let's discuss how to develop an effective, ROI-driven strategy. Follow these best practices when planning and executing your campaigns: Step 1: Conduct Audience Research to Refine Targeting Who are your ideal customers? What messages resonate with them? Spend time understanding your audiences’ demographics, interests, and motivations through surveys, analytics, and customer profiles. These insights allow you to fine-tune ad targeting and creative. Step 2: Set Clear Goals and Key Performance Indicators (KPIs) Define the outcomes you want to achieve from the start. Common goals include leads, conversions, customer acquisitions, engagement. Choose specific KPIs to benchmark and optimize towards like cost-per-click, cost-per-lead, return on ad spend, etc. Step 3: Test Different Performance Advertising Channels Assess whether search, social, referral, or affiliate marketing makes the most sense for your goals. Many brands find a combination of channels and ad formats is most effective. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket early on. Step 4: Create Relevant Ads Optimized for Each Platform Tailor your ads’ style, copy, keywords, and placements for each channel. A text-based Google search ad should differ from an Instagram Story ad, for example. Adapt creatives for the unique format. Step 5: Relentlessly Analyze Performance and Optimization Opportunities Use analytics platforms to identify your best-performing ads, placements, landing pages, keywords, and more. Double down on what works and cut what doesn’t. Continual testing and refinement is key for performance advertising success. This strategic approach will set your brand up to maximize results from performance advertising efforts. Don’t forget to track analytics closely to capitalize on key learnings. Why Performance Advertising Delivers Real Value for Brands What makes performance advertising stand out from other forms of digital marketing? Here are some of the core advantages driving its popularity: Becasue it Provides Complete Transparency into Your Ad Spend With performance advertising, you only pay when a visitor takes a specified action. There’s no wasted spend on broad impressions or vanity metrics. You have full visibility into the exact ROI generated, making it easy to calculate average cost-per-conversion. This transparency allows you to optimize campaigns for maximum profitability. Each dollar goes towards driving real bottom-line results. Because it is a Low Risk Model Means Greater Experimentation Because you’re not locked into upfront contracts or massive budgets, performance advertising enables greater flexibility to test new keywords, creatives, audiences and platforms. You can launch several small, agile campaigns simultaneously, see what resonates, then double down on the highest converting elements. This fail fast, optimize approach lets you cost-efficiently determine the best strategies. And Data-Driven Insights Fuel Better Decision Making Robust analytics and attribution modeling give you hard data on which ad variations, placements, landing pages, offers and more drive the most conversions. These learnings allow you to tweak messaging, target customer segments, and improve creative in an informed, results-driven way. It takes the guesswork out by showing you what actually works. In summary, performance advertising provides unparalleled transparency into your digital marketing effectiveness. It’s an highly accountable method for achieving measurable ROI. Next, we’ll explore some common challenges and best practices to overcome them when activating performance advertising campaigns. Overcoming Common Performance Advertising Challenges While performance advertising offers many advantages, it also comes with some unique challenges for marketers to navigate. Let’s go over some of the top issues that arise and proven tips to tackle them head-on: Maintaining Brand Safety and Data Privacy A big potential downside is lack of control over where your ads appear and how your customer data is handled. Unlike direct ad buys, performance platforms use algorithmic placement and third-party data which can put your brand at risk. "Here's how to keep tight guardrails in place: - Leverage keyword blocking and exclusion lists - Use whitelists of pre-approved sites or placements - Limit data sharing and enforce contractual privacy protections - Closely monitor where your ads run to identify any unsavory placements" Combating Fraud and Maximizing Legitimate Conversions Unfortunately, performance advertising is susceptible to bots, click spam, and other fraudulent behavior that eats your ad budget. It pays to be vigilant. "Tactics to detect and prevent fraud: source traffic carefully - analyzeHeaders.com - link to relevant post" - Use anti-fraud monitoring tools - Block suspicious IP ranges - Favor more secure channels like Google Ads - Focus on driving phone, in-store or email leads vs just clicks Overcoming the Technical Learning Curve Make no mistake - performance advertising requires hands-on management and constant optimization. The platforms have steep learning curves. Brands must invest in developing in-house expertise through testing, certifications, and training. Or lean on an experienced digital agency to navigate the technical complexities on your behalf so you can focus on strategy and creative. With the right expertise, you can execute performance advertising campaigns confidently and successfully. Let's wrap up with a quick look at overarching best practices for this high-impact digital marketing channel. Key Best Practices for Performance Advertising Excellence Ready to activate performance advertising that converts? Keep these proven tips top of mind: Hook viewers with hyper-targeted messaging Laser focus your ad copy, offers, and creatives to resonate with specific user intents and interests. For example, target searchers looking for "women's running shoes under $100" or Facebook users who love marathon training pages. Retarget engaged visitors Create customized remarketing campaigns for those who've previously visited your site or interacted with ads. They're hot leads - keep your brand top of mind. Test multi-channel campaigns Run coordinated ads across search, social, referral sites and affiliate networks. Track cross-channel effectiveness to optimize the buyer journey. Prioritize landing page optimization Ensure your landing pages match ad messaging and rapidly guide visitors to convert. Clear call-to-actions, trust elements and minimal distractions are key. Monitor and tweak campaigns relentlessly Dig into analytics to identify high-performing elements then further optimize. Continual refinement based on data drives results. With the right goals, audience insights, and measurement discipline, performance advertising offers a world of potential. Now you're equipped with a comprehensive overview to unlock its full ROI power. Remember to track performance closely, stay nimble, and keep honing your approach. The brands seeing massive returns from performance advertising double down on what works while eliminating low-value activities. To recap, align your efforts to core business objectives, embrace relentless optimization, choose your channels wisely, and focus on delighting customers - not just chasing clicks. With this performance mindset, you’ll be primed for long-term success. Read the full article

[amitpatel08]

5 Effective Techniques for Mastering IELTS English Vocabulary

Are you gearing up for the IELTS test and feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of expanding your English vocabulary? Fear not! Enhancing your word power can be an exciting and achievable journey. In this blog, we'll explore five effective techniques to help you effortlessly improve your IELTS vocabulary.

1. Contextual Learning: Immersing Words in Real-life Scenarios

Forget rote memorization; embrace the power of contextual learning. Picture yourself diving into a captivating narrative where each word paints a vivid picture. By encountering words within their natural context, such as in sentences or stories, their meanings become clearer and more memorable. For instance, consider the word "resilient." When used in a sentence like "She showed remarkable resilience in the face of adversity," its meaning becomes apparent: the ability to bounce back from challenges.

2. Mnemonics: Crafting Memory Associations

Unlock the secrets of memory with mnemonics, the art of linking new information to familiar concepts. Visualize the word "ephemeral" as a delicate soap bubble, evoking the idea of something short-lived or fleeting. By tapping into your creativity and associating words with vivid images or personal experiences, you can enhance your retention and recall effortlessly.

3. Flashcards: Your Portable Vocabulary Toolkit

Meet your new study companion: flashcards! These miniature treasure troves feature words on one side and their meanings or sample sentences on the other. For instance, visualize "surreptitious" as a cunning cat sneaking a treat when no one is watching. With flashcards, you'll accumulate a wealth of vocabulary gems to bolster your IELTS preparation.

4. Extensive Reading: Journey Through the World of Words

Embark on a literary adventure through the vast realms of reading. Delve into books, articles, and blogs to discover linguistic treasures waiting to be unearthed. Encounter words like "serendipity" in the context of a chance encounter or a fortunate discovery, enriching your vocabulary while enjoying captivating narratives.

5. Learn Affixes: Unraveling the Language Puzzle

Become a master wordsmith by mastering affixes, the building blocks of language. Prefixes and suffixes provide valuable clues about a word's meaning and usage. For instance, "re-" signifies repetition, as seen in "revisit," meaning to visit again. By understanding affixes, you'll decipher unfamiliar words with ease, enhancing your linguistic prowess.

Conclusion

Mastering IELTS vocabulary is within your reach with the right tools and techniques. Whether you're exploring contextual learning, harnessing mnemonics, or immersing yourself in extensive reading, each strategy brings you closer to linguistic fluency and exam success.

For personalized guidance and support on your IELTS journey, consider enrolling in Navigator's Education which is the best IELTS coaching classes in Gandhinagar. With expert tutors and comprehensive resources, you'll receive the guidance you need to excel in your language proficiency goals. Additionally, consult study abroad visa consultants in Gandhinagar to explore opportunities for international education and expand your horizons.

Improving your English vocabulary is a crucial step in preparing for the IELTS test. A strong vocabulary not only enhances your writing and speaking skills but also helps you understand complex texts and questions better.

[utility-mapping-services]

Geophysical Techniques at the Forefront of High-Level Workflows and Value

Delving into the mysteries of the Earth has always been a fascinating endeavor. Today, through the lens of modern geophysics, we're not just exploring the layers beneath our feet; we're spearheading efficient processes that are both impactful and valuable. In this piece, we'll explore how state-of-the-art geophysical methods are redefining our operations and the promising advantages they offer.

1. A Glimpse into Geophysical Techniques

Geophysics, at its core, harnesses the principles of physics to study Earth's hidden layers. It's like having X-ray vision that lets us view the world below without making a single scratch on the surface. Historically, sectors like energy production, mineral scouting, historical site exploration, and eco-studies have heavily depended on it.

2. The New Wave in Geophysical Methods

As technology has grown, so have the techniques in geophysics:

Seismic Imaging: A methodology where sound waves sketch out underground structures. With evolving tech, we're now able to capture even more detailed subterranean pictures.

Magnetotellurics (MT): By examining the Earth's natural electromagnetic nuances, MT now offers even richer insights into what lies beneath.

Subsurface Radar Techniques: Evolved radar technology now presents more explicit snapshots of the world below, paving the way for improved analysis.

3. Streamlined Processes and Their Ripple Effects

When industries tap into these refined geophysical methods, there's an operational transformation:

Energy Sector: Improved underground imagery leads to optimized extraction strategies and better resource management.

Mineral Discovery: The gamble in resource exploration diminishes as accuracy in pinpointing mineral beds increases.

Historical Exploration: We can now virtually unveil lost cities or structures, ensuring preservation while satisfying our curiosity.

Eco-Monitoring: Swift and precise detection of underground anomalies aids in timely ecological interventions.

4. The Value Spectrum

These advanced processes translate to tangible benefits:

Financial Prudence: Enhanced accuracy means reduced wastage of funds on exploratory endeavors.

Time Conservation: Swift data interpretation accelerates decision-making timelines.

Eco-Sensitivity: Accurate explorations limit ecological disturbances.

Safety Paradigm: Clearer subsurface pictures lead to informed and safer ground activities.

5. Gazing into the Horizon

The trajectory of geophysical tech is set to soar even higher. With potential integrations of Artificial Intelligence and collaborative cross-industry ventures, the Horizon is teeming with promise.

[615media]

How Drones Have Changed Real Estate Photography

It’s no secret that technology has played a dramatic role in why and how the real estate market is as advanced as it is today. Everything from virtual tours to smart homes, it is pretty safe to say that as technology evolves, so will the real estate market as well. Among the many technological evolutions of the real estate market, drone photography is an area that has grown in popularity exponentially.

Think about it... Years ago, if you wanted aerial shots of a property, you had to either hire a professional helicopter pilot or know how to fly yourself, or build and operate your own drone, and how to take pictures . Today, you can have that necessary drone technology  with a professional camera attached delivered to your door right from your fingertips with a simple swipe and tap on Amazon or other e-commerce site.

In today’s real estate market, especially in luxury real estate, photographers who are qualified to operate drones are now the go-to's for realtors, as they produce impeccable and sophisticated aerial views of homes. In fact, according to Multiple Listing Service® (MLS) statistics, homes that had aerial images sold 68% faster than homes with only standard photography images... So, this statistic is proof that drone photography has not only completely changed the digital landscape of the real estate market, but it has also changed how homebuyers and sellers expect to interact with the properties they are interested in.

Drones, thanks to their one-of-a-kind capabilities, are revolutionizing the methods in which real estate is advertised, marketed, and sold. The following are some of the ways that drones are altering the landscape of real estate.

Faster Images for Real Estate Listings

When it comes to real estate photography, timing is of the utmost importance. You do not need to wait for an appointment time that has been agreed upon when you have new customers who are interested in selling their home. After hanging up the phone with a potential buyer, real estate brokers and sales agents have the option of hiring qualified photographers to use drones to capture exterior photographs of a property for their listing. Because of this, real estate agents may be able to get their listing up and running even before potential buyers have a chance to view a home's interior. Drones are also being utilized for more conventional tasks, such as property appraisals and inspections and mapping out property lines.

Withstands Varying Heights and Outdoor Conditions

Drones are useful because they are mobile solutions that can handle different heights and outdoor conditions. Whether it is a bird's-eye view or a shot angled down from tree height, or a smooth, swooping conversion between both, aerial drone photography has a light, acrobatic quality that gives real estate professionals an engaging final product that they could not get with older methods of aerial photography.

Wider Shot Angles of a Home's Interior

When it comes to the real estate industry, drones are not just for taking pictures of the outside of properties anymore. In addition, they can be used inside a house to take photographs from wider angles than those that can be achieved by a conventional photographer. You probably already have some idea of how challenging it may be to snap photographs in a limited place if you have ever attempted to do so. The ability to capture wider picture angles across all of a home's rooms is exactly what real estate brokers seek in photographs, and with the use of a small drone, this is something that can be accomplished. This enables more prospective buyers to have a clearer concept of what the interior of the home looks like and gives the impression that the space is larger than it actually is.

The Ability to Tell an Entire Story in One Picture

With aerial drone photography, real estate agents can show an entire property in a single photo or video, including the outside of a property, pools, a large yard, exquisite landscape features, property lines, and how close it is to nearby attractions. Because of the advancement of real estate photography, most potential buyers are not as interested in a series of pictures of the exterior of a property that forces them to put them all together in their minds.

Additionally, aerial photography also provides potential buyers the opportunity to envision a particular lifestyle. Through these photos, people looking to buy should be able to imagine themselves living in the property, which, in turn, helps them create that mental image, encouraging them to buy.

Hire 615Media for Your Next Listing

Real estate drone photography is only as good as the people on the ground who control the devices. In this way, it is important to work with a team of experts who understand the precision and speed of drone photography. Contact 615 Media to learn more about our aerial drone real estate photography service.

[choosepiner]

Fantastical creatures tarot

#FANTASTICAL CREATURES TAROT FOR FREE#

Here instead we have Fenris Wolf on the card named Chains. One major difference is in the Major most decks name Devil. Some of the meanings are not what I would call traditional but none of them went too far astray of the area of meaning. When I consulted the LWB, I was greeted by the Kappa who is a Japanese creature. I didn’t know the creature but its turtle-like back, slightly cantankerous look set in a swamp captured a contentious 5 of Swords for me. Hunt’s rendition of the Five of Swords had me laughing outloud. There’s humor abounding in this deck as well. This makes this a great gift deck for someone who wants to learn more about the Tarot who also has a love for all things mystical and magical. Two cards are quick reference cards–one for the Major Arcana and one for the Minor. Physically this deck is standard US Games fare which is to say it is a sturdy deck that you won’t have to worry about falling apart at first shuffly. The images flowed from my pencil and brush, responding to my own need to depict these magnificent, mysterious creatures that continue to captivate our senses and imagination.” “These beings are fixtures in our psyches, evoking a sense of wonder with the ability to serve as archetypal references for our own life journeys. On the Fantastical Creatures Tarot website, Lisa (who holds a tabby who must have been the model for the Magician) says of painting this lovely watercolor deck: She is well known in the Tarot world for good reason. She has a way of imbuing her art with intricate images that demand your attention. Hunt’s artwork has long been a favorite of mine. From the obvious power of the Winged Lion standing as the Sun to the delicate fairy who sit by the Ace of Cups, these cards are mesmerizing. Includes 72-page booklet and Quick Reference Guide to the Cards for both the Major and Minor Arcana.Īnother creation from a solid tarot team is the Fantastical Creatures Tarot. From Fantastical Creatures Tarot Introduction By tapping into these astral sources, we can use the ancient images in divination to gain a clearer picture of what is causing life-problems and what we can do about it.” When approached in the proper ways, these powers can help us. It is possible, however, to relearn the ancient art of communication with fantastic creatures. Today, most people have lost touch with these ancient sources and most no longer believe in them. They followed certain traditions that allowed them to tap into this source of power, using it in their spiritual and magickal rituals. The priests, magicians, and shamans understood that contact would not be on the Earth plane, but on the astral level. “Most ancient cultures believed that it was possible to make contact with these mystical creatures. Lisa Hunt’s luminous artwork shows us glimpses of the mystical beings that inhabit our imagination, and reveals the lessons they can teach us. Countryįree shipping with every order of €100.00 or moreįree shipping from an order of €50.00 or moreįree shipping from an order of €150.00 or moreįree shipping with every order of €150.00 or moreįree shipping for purchases of €100.00 or moreįree shipping for purchases of €150.00 or moreįree shipping with every order of €40.00 or moreįree shipping from every order of €150.00 or moreįree shipping with every order of €150.From the worlds of mythology, folklore and legend, Fantastical Creatures Tarot brings to life a colorful menagerie of mystical beings. Shipping ratesĪn overview of our shipping rates for international destinations is given below. You will see which options are available for your order when you finalize your order. We offer different options for the delivery or collection of your order. However, it is possible in some cases that the delivery is delayed due to circumstances. We do everything we can to deliver this item on time.

#FANTASTICAL CREATURES TAROT FOR FREE#

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