#there's only been like three looks i've liked so far

[crisiscutie]

The reunion at hand may bring us joy. Pt 1

Pairing: "Fluffy" Sephiroth/Pregnant Darling

A wee distant prequel in the alternate Domestic AU, back when Darling was still on the run from Yandere Sephiroth with the boys.

You gently touched your slightly swollen belly, shaking your head as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. There was no denying it now - you were pregnant with your fourth child. This revelation shouldn't have come as a surprise. Something had to result out of those nightly passionate sessions you had with Sephiroth months ago.

Yet with the familiar symptoms and signs, you had acted like nothing was different since you and the boys went on the run. Now that your baby bump had begun to form, ignoring your greatest worry was no longer an option. You covered your eyes and let out a soft sob as you anxiously deliberated your next steps.

You could should be able to handle this one. After all, ten years ago, you had been pregnant with triplets. One more child in the picture was no problem.

But you couldn't even bring yourself to explain to your precious boys why you all had to leave that fateful day. The horrifying atrocities and the true monster their father had become were things they shouldn't and couldn't comprehend. So how the hell could you explain to them that you're pregnant while being on a special mother-sons expedition, celebrating your degradation mysteriously curing itself? The boys were already concerned when you had bouts of morning sickness, but you diverted their attention by promising to take them to the Gold Saucer, since they had begged to visit while you guys were traveling through Corel. They're smart like Sephiroth, though. You won't be able to hide this from them for long. Maybe you could tell them at the Gold Saucer during a quiet moment? You pulled your wool sweater down and slipped your black jacket on for even more cover. It's bad enough being an ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids. No need to make it obvious that you're a pregnant ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids.

When you were about to leave the restroom, you heard a groan of distress from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a woman dressed in tattered black robes. She looked to be on the edge of death. Her lifeless, baggy eyes, sickly complexion, and brittle hair nearly sent you into a panic. She reminded you far too much of yourself when you were afflicted with degradation. She stumbled towards you, losing her balance. You immediately reached out and caught her, allowing her to rest her head on your shoulder.

"Miss... are you okay?" you whispered. You couldn't resist the instinctive desire to hold her tightly, as if she were a precious jewel that needed safeguarding. Maybe it was just your natural empathy and decency for a fellow human. Or it's just your pathetic projection.

You tried to support her upright, but in a swift second, the woman summoned all her strength to push you against the bathroom wall, her small form transforming into the towering visage of your dear husband, Sephiroth.

In a slow, robotic movement, he lifted his head from your shoulder. His fuming, slit pupils locked with yours, devoid of the soft, almost-catlike gaze he once wore. Instead, there was only the stare of a snake watching its prey.

He cupped your chin. "You dare to run away? With my children? After all I've done for you. For them," he hissed. You couldn't respond. Were you already beginning to lose your mind? How did he know your location? How is here? As he caught the flicker of fear and shock in your eyes, his slit pupils constricted. Following this, he sneered and slid his gloved hand down your body, opening the jacket and lifting the wool sweater to expose your slightly swollen belly.

"I will reclaim what's mine," he declared, his gloved hand resting on your belly. These were his final words before the robbed woman retook her place. She groaned in your ear once again. A nurse burst into the room and quickly approached the two of you. She pulled the robbed woman away from you.

"Excuse her. She's not feeling well because of the mako poisoning!" the nurse hastily explained to you, shortly lecturing the robbed woman afterwards. You stifled a gasp at them before fast walking out of the restroom. Your gaze darted up and down the streets, clutching your bag close to you.

Fuck. Fuck. The boys. Where are they!? You all can't afford to stick around much longer. But you don't see them anywhere! They should've been here, waiting outside of the bathroom as you ordered. Your panic increased tenfold when you rushed down the dusty road, seeing the bodies of dead Shinra grunts scattered about. You forced your head to keep looking forward, not even noticing the black feathers on some bodies.

Time passed slowly until you found a platform with a gondola, hoping your boys were near since you quietly searched everywhere else. You then heard the familiar whisper of Kadaj calling out to you from behind.

"Mother, we're over here!" He said. They were hiding in small bins, with a white lid over their heads nearby an abandoned clinc.

"What happened?" You asked.

"We don't know... Those men were running after us, so we hid in these bins when they lost sight of us," Yazoo explained. The three came out, their hair and clothing a bit rustled, but no signs of physical injury. But their eyes said it all. They were shaken. Afraid. All supposedly under your watch. Poor Loz was crying silently, keeping his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. You ruffled his hair, giving him an apologetic gaze.

The three hugged boys hugged you tightly, afraid to let you go. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't left you three alone..." You said. Kadaj lifted his head, about to say something before the sight of your uncovered pregnant belly caught his attention. The other two followed after, their fearful gaze turning into utter confusion and curiosity.

Shit. Of course you didn't bother to fix yourself up after that bathroom encounter with Sephiroth. "Boys... I-"

"They can't be far! Split up and search the alleys!" a voice from a distance ranged out, with a tone you recognized to certainly belong to a grunt captain. With quick thinking, you ushered the boys into the nearby gondola and closed the door.

"We'll discuss this later. Just stay quiet for Mother please..." you uttered, maneuvering to the controls. Your sweet triplet boys nodded, immediately sitting down and observing you silently. Thank the planet that they knew when to get serious and follow directions. But alas, mayhap this be evidence of them growing up too fast. Any other child at their age would still be shaken, frantically asking questions, begging for assurance. Just how much more horrors did they witness in your absence?

You slapped the control panel in frustration, which seemed to make it work. The gondola creaked and drifted along the cable lines. You peeked out of the tinted window, seeing more Shinra troops scouting the streets. Thankfully, no one seemed focused on the gondola. You sighed in relief and wiped your forehead as you sat down, sitting opposite of the triplets.

They were still staring at you, their intense catlike pupils constricting as the silence persisted. It was too difficult for you to not think of Sephiroth at this moment. This peculiar aura was all too familiar. Each one was so so similar to him, in each and every way.

Your lips curved into a forced grin, as you leaned forward, talking in your light tone.

"You know, this itinerary of Corel told me about a very special attraction nearby." The boys broke out of their peculiar observant trance, their slit pupils now dilating in anticipation as they leaned forward themselves, meeting you with excitement.

"I-Is it the gold saucer?" Loz asked. You nodded.

"Mhmm!" I was thinking, 'Maybe we could go there sooner.' What do you boys think?" The boys collectively hollered in excitement, littering you in gratitude and requests to go to a specific attention first. You chuckled, sitting back and watching them argue with each other about who gets to where first. Good thing you got them focused on something else for now.

Though your amusement ended quickly when you spotted a black feather stuck in the window's crevice, reminding you of your duty...

Oh, why can't something be easy for once?

[h50europe]

Post Mortem 9-1-1 Mid Season:

What's next for B and E? That question's already ANCIENT. Nothing! Same old, same old. The B*dd*e-tinged interviews are rolled out ad nauseam and read like clickbait. Don't they get that actors can't give away what they don't know? Not even the showrunner knows what he is going to do beyond episode 8.10.

Am I mean when I say I want someone to move somewhere else? Only briefly. Intermittend, like a rainshower. For shock value, like the ungodly breakup with the bitter aftertaste still lingering, that left not only the audience baffled but also someone involved.

Playing devil's advocate: if the show isn't renewed, we will see E leaving and B staying behind in LA with his shitshow of life, all alone, and everyone loses (as this was ever about winning or losing...).

The name of the first episode of the season, “Buzzkill,” unintentionally became the central idea. There was a lot of buzz about nothing, and the mood was also killed along the way.

After the first half of episodes aired, and we are now on a break for the next three months, the season has lost momentum and drive and is drifting more into mediocrity. Less Brad would definitely have been more because then Tim could have devoted himself to more important aspects of the series as previously hyped plots were either remodeled or insufficiently and carelessly executed.

Also, where does all that leave the rom-com aspect T and O bragged about? So far, we didn't have much to laugh about except for the posts of the niche fandom, which I've not taken seriously or even looked at for some time now.

Jumpscare, if I come across one of theirs and the posts peppered with deliberately profane language to attract as much attention as possible. However, most other fans scroll already past, bored or annoyed, because this excess of stupidity and primitiveness is hard to beat.

[keelt9]

BIGNONIA

Masterlist

That’s why I always like to have a plan B ready to be executed, most of the time. 

“Y/N.” I still heard my name in the distance. “Y/N!” All I had to do was speak, I know that. “SISTER!”

But I ran away.

“WHAT?” Collin raises his hands like he surrenders. 

“Jesus! I've been calling you for 3 minutes. Breakfast is ready.” He closed the door of my room, not before sticking his tongue out. 

I bluff, closing my eyes and scratching my forehead, looking at the calendar next to my bed; a week already.

In the kitchen mom is serving juice as dad is taking his coat, the cold wind of the morning is increasing. 

“Y/N, darling, do you mind…” I nod, Collin and I are in charge of the purchase for the game of this night.

“I got it.” She smiles, kissing my cheek, as Collin lifts his cheek for a kiss, but mom just smiles at him, patting his hand, laughing as she keeps walking.

“I hope when I come back on my first holiday I receive at least one kiss.” He screams giggling, taking the plates to the dining room. “You left two months, not a year.”

He left the plates and went to hug me tight, shaking me side to side. “But we missed you like hell.”

I giggle as I see the drops of jam now on the floor. “Ok, ok, you’re messing up my pancakes, move.”

Collin laughs as he kisses my cheek too. “You better text me like always, I’m a big guy now, but you're kind of special.”

My days passed like usual, just like I've been working all those years; from a distance, keeping updated Lilian, but in a few days we made so many changes.

Gael was in charge of the florist’s for a couple of days until Lilian contacted the woman she already had been talking to before I offered to go, and she agreed right away after all it only will be three weeks, until she goes back.

“Grandpa likes these ones, right?” I point the glass donut through the cristal.

“Yeah. I'll take two of them.” He pointed to the chocolate one. “Do you ever tell me?”

I lift my eyes from the counter. “Tell you what?”

Collin saved his phone in his pockets. “One week ago you were happily in the middle of a big game, then on Wednesday night, you arrived home with your bags.”

He remembered something before I spoke. ‘Ah! And with a squidward pumpkin in your hand, that is still in your room!”

The girl who is attend us gave me a box of donuts, I sigh and softly kicked him with my feet. 

“I arrived a couple of weeks earlier, GOD! Why must there be a reason behind that?” Collin takes the boxes of my hands, bluffing.

“Ok, you have that but, Y/N, you are terrified of seeing your phone.” He points to my back pocket. “It's been 10 minutes with the lighter on.”

I turn it off, just barely seeing in case I missed texts or calls from mom or Lilian.

“I'm not terrified, it's a detox.” Inside of the car Collin opens his eyes.

“Someone did something to you?! I'll ki…”I chuckled, grabbing his hand and calming down.

“NO! Collin your imagination, it's working too much.” I engine the car, if I want him to be calm I must give him something. “I need to be at home, and keep work kind of far away.”

Collin rolls his eyes. “Hey, take charge of something you didn’t even dream of and you'll be drained.”

“Are you sure?” I nod, stopping in the red light.

“I'm fine, give me a couple of days and I'll be me, one more time.”

After all, I didn't lie to him, just keep the truth short and concrete.

When we arrived home, dad and mom were laughing as they got inside of the house with dirtier clothes and bags of charcoal.

“You're fast.” Dad said getting inside.

Mom stops for a second at the door. “Honey, you have a package.” Collin points to himself. “No, my other honey.” 

I cleared my throat, winking at him, as he got inside with things we bought.

“It's in your room!” She screams as I get inside walking upstairs.

On my bed there is a small box; Lilian already told me she planned to send a small present, it could be useful for Collin in college.

“Where are the beers?” Collin asks on the frame door as I open the box without putting so much attention. We forgot the beer.

He reads my face like a book and giggles. “Let's go.” I put aside the package but he shakes his head 

“Don't worry I'll go with dad.” He said before going downstairs.

Where is the little kid who refuses to leave my room if there is a package on my bed? 

I look inside the box where there are a lot of yellow papers that cover another small box, inside of that a crystal ball, like the christmas one, just this one has a small bignonia inside of it.

A nice detail of Lilian.

I called her right away. “Hey, it’s beautiful, thank you so much, he will love it.”

“What?” I heard her excuse herself before the noise disappeared. 

“The crystal ball.” I giggle, repeating one more time.

“I don’t send anything.” I narrow my eyes, and see the andress on the box, yeah, the address is from the floristi’s. 

I tilt my head smiling. “Come on Lilian, the address is from the florist’s.”

Lilian stayed in silence for a couple of seconds. “Oh, it must be Gael, he asked me your address a couple days ago, he said a package arrived for you in the florist’s so he would send it to you.”

“Ok, am, I’ll call you back thanks.” I hang out quickly, but if my suspicions are correct that kid will be in trouble.

I move side to side from my bedroom waiting for Gael to pick up but it’s the second time he didn’t.

I sit on bed one more time watching the crystal ball and my phone at the same time, that brings me flashbacks of that day, one more time.

After Joe whispers, all fade away in a blink, I technically take my eyes off him and all the people surrounding me are already gone.

He tried to talk to me, but I feel so overwhelmed and observed that I panicked, I raise my hands every time he tried to approaches to me or speaks to me; when I recover the enough energy to make a movement I turn around as he keeps calling me, it only make it worse because as I tried to leave the stadium with a nothing more than Joe Burrow calling my name a lot of eyes were on us. 

Thankfully as we stepped outside of the stadium people who were there or passing by when they saw him, ran to him asking for a photo or autograph.

Inside of the cab, I realized that I didn’t know where I was supposed to go.

I found myself in front of Mr. McNeill house, in panic and a constant buzz of phone due to Joe calls and text, after acting in the worst way I could do it.

After a long talk and an endless cup of tea, Mr. McNeill words were enough for me to definitely run away.

<I told you my little girl, sometimes comes into our door.>

I called Lilian the next morning trying to explain something I didn't fully understand but as I told her I realized about my own feelings. 

I fell in love without doubt. The talks on the florist’s, the nights when even he looked tired he waited for me to close, the encouraging words and support when I was about to give up, the laughs, the details, it’s him being him.

I took the first flight to Carolina where Lilina was waiting for me, we explained to Gael something urgent came up and the instructions he must follow.

Like we expected, he called Lilian that Monday morning, Joe was at the florist’s and he said he needed to talk to me. Lilian took charge of that.

Just as Colline said, I arrived at my house on Wednesday night, defeated and embarrassed about my behavior. 

“Darling?” I didn’t even notice my mom. It's at the door looking at me with suspicious eyes. “Do you mind giving me a hand?” 

Shit, I shake my head trying to get rid of these toughs, as I stand at the door, mom stops me and caresses my hair.

“Everything is alright?” If I speak, she will know something is in my mind, I just assent. “Is that what are you waiting for?”

She sees the box over my bed. 

“Yeah, it could be.” Both of us smile going downstairs where in a couple of minutes my grandparents will come.

Gael answered me until Monday night, he said in his defense, <The poor boy looks so frustrated and overwhelmed.> How he can not do a few favors, besides Joe paid everything, he called it, a spare to a five star customer.

“Will you use your boxes?” Collin asked, looking at his phone with his test in his hands, he’s a genius in chemistry, and his A+ in his exam on his lap is just a small way of teasing me about how bad I was in that grade.

I just picked up Collin from school. “What boxes?” He's helping in a collection for Thanksgiving, I must say, he’s helping the girl he likes in her collection.

Collin bluffs. “Come on Y/N! You have a pile of small boxes in your room. It's a recycling collection, help you little brother a little bit.”

That’s the favors Gael refers to, every two days a same little box came from the florist’s, by the third box I refused to open it, in all of them a small crystal ball with that bignonia of different color.

“I thought mom gave you like 20 empty jars, two days ago.” I parked in front of our house.

I went back to my routine from work at home and helped mom with her small business of candles. 

“She did, and I already took them, but… it’s all for a good cause.” I laughed seeing my brother so nervous. 

I stop outside of the car, seeing him to the other side. “Why is it so hard to invite her on a date?” 

He fakes a big laugh. “You think I don’t think about it?”

“Well…” He lends his head on the top of the car.

“I tried, believe me, but it’s like when I see her all fade away. I can play cool, yes, but I’m literally fighting for not melting on the ground.” His words leave me thinking more than I would like. 

“I’ll empty it for you, can I give it to you tomorrow night?” Collin faces lights on and nods. 

That night after all were in their rooms, I put my 9 boxes on my bed. I take my time to open them one by one, like I suspect, each one has bignonia of different color all in a small crystal ball. 

“It will last at least two years, they are under a special process that makes them last.” That’s what Lilian told me, when I asked her how I was supposed to take care of them.

I grab one putting over my forehead, unintentionally shaking trying to put my thoughts in order, as I open my eyes, a soft light comes inside of it, I shake it one more time and turn it off.

He remembered, being alone in the dark makes me feel quite uneasy. 

“I’m crazy.” I whisper, opening my phone and his chat, which was archive.

And endless photographs of the most random things, like his morning milkshake disaster until a photo of the score of the game of last game, they won.

>I’m sorry, let’s talk about this face to face, ok? I’ll be in Cincinnati in a couple of weeks.

That’s all I could send that night, observing the crystal balls on my bed and the soft warm light that comes from them.

“She’s cute right?” Collin said with his eyes stuck to the window, a blonde girl who’s taking note of all the things they’re collecting is waving her hand to my brother.

I gave him the empty boxes the next morning and offered to take him to deliver it, and without saying give him a little push.

Or at least that’s what I tried because the girl took a step ahead, inviting him for a coffee. 

I didn’t even know since a month ago, he’s the main contributor of this collection.

I smile at the girl and my brother, what a scene. “Where do you collect that much?” 

Collin's face turns red. “Mom, dad, you, grandma and my friends.”

I laughed when the engine started; we must be home by dinner, with a happy Collin in the passenger seat.

“All I’m saying is he could find another way, that was so predictable.” It’s the third time Collin complained about the missing touchdown of the 49ers in the third quarter. 

“Collin, Purdy had like 5 big guys over him, how could he do that?”

As we enter the house, my dad finds us in the hallway with a smile that practically covers all his face. 

“You’re in trouble!” He grabs Collin by the shoulders as he points to the backyard.

I look at Collin who raised his shoulders. “Go!” Dad pushed me. 

I barely reached to avoid a crash with my mom who has a red face. 

“Do you kn…” She shook her head and pushed me to the backyard, didn’t even let me finish my question.

“You’re crazy people.” I shout as I practically sway in the door of the backyard. “There’s nothing here.” 

But I swallow my words when I see in our small “living room”, stand rubbing his hand on his tights to the guy I have treated awfully, Joe Burrow.

He only whispers, hi and it was enough for me to take a step back, one more time.

“Sorry, sorry, it's not you, believe me, it's not you.” I cover my eyes and take a deep breath.

“I'm sorry, I don't tell you anything, it's just… I thought in a thousand ways to tell you but… I simply couldn't do it.” I feel my heart squeeze and remember Collin's words.

“No please, no.” I look him into the eyes. “It's not you. I got through a lot of things in a couple of months that I never paid attention to my feelings, don't take me wrong, I'm so happy for Lilian but I was overwhelmed and well, an abrupt confession no confession took me out of balance.”

Joe closes his eyes and presses his lips together like he's preparing for the worst.

“So, all these weeks after treating you in the worst way I treat someone who's only nice with me, I take my time to realize my own feelings.”

By the time Joe opened his eyes I'm standing in front of him, making him blink.

“I like you too. I already told you, I'm not good with this but give time and who knows I could be pr…”

Joe kiss me.

He leaned on giving me a kiss that left me blank. A calming kiss.

Joe smirks and his rich boy laughs are slowly becoming my favorite sound.

“Whoa.” I nod slowly, pressing my hand against my lips.

I turn around, the living room is empty and knowing mom as I do, she probably has locked down Collin and dad in their room.

“I'm sorry, but I have to use my last 3 seconds of bravery.” Joe chuckled as he put his hands on his waist. “Y/N, I like you very much. Could you go on a date with me?” He gives me a towel. “I'd like to take things slowly but with you all can happen in a blink.”

I grab the towel and cover my face. “Is this one of the last time?” 

Joe nods. “You have to see it to understand.” I see a classic towel from a game, the logo of the NFL and the team. “To the other side.”

I turn it around and I see it, a small red heart. “I planned to speak with you and give you this but the guys understood I already talked with you; the talks in the locker room could be kind of messy.”

“Thank you, I feel worse now.” I joke, scrunching my nose, covering my face with the towel. 

“I mean, yeah, it would be nice if you wait but this is so much better.” I roll my eyes before seeing him one more time. “I was able to add some extra details.”

I choke my head. “Do you like flowers?” I giggle as I nod.

“Suits you one more time.” A bignonia represents tenacity and perseverance, things that scream Joe Burrow.

Lilian on multiple occasions told me about the feelings she had being with Jason, always resume in… <We create our own world just being next to each other.> I don’t know if this is what she means but right now it feels like that. 

With Joe eyes on me, I feel I could lose in the moment.

“My mom went crazy when she saw you right?” Joe giggles and bites his lips.

“A little bit.” He makes a funny gesture with his eyes, a sign that my mom probably freaks out.

“So, it’s my bye week, I'm hoping to relax and spend time with my girl.” 

I grip the towel tighter. “Your what? I’m sorry but I haven’t said yes.” 

Joe kissed me one more time. “Jesus and your three seconds of bravery.” It’s amusing.

One more kiss. “Ok, ok, ok.” And one more. “I’ll go!”

His idea of a date turns out in 4 days of dates; every time he comes to my house I bet Collin screamed deep inside as me the first time I met him.

Mom and dad act more comfortable by day two, at the end of the week they look more calm and cool around him.

And Sunday after watching the game where the 49ers will bring back the win against the Cardinals, my family is relaxed around him.

“Thanks for receiving me these days Mrs and Mr. Ivory.” Joe said to my mom. “I had wonderful days.”

“Please Joe, feel free to come anytime you want.” Mom smiled at him.

“Like he isn't in the middle of season.” Collin claimed, winning a small pinch of my mom. 

“Bring the container of the table Collin.” Dad giggles pushing him softly to the kitchen. 

“Thanks for coming Joe. I guess we'll see you next week; from far away, but see you.” Dad looks so excited.

I tilt my head. “What?”

“It's Thanksgiving. Joe…well, Bengals will come to play.” Collin said, giving the container to my mom. “Duh!”

“Right! I forgot.” Collin was about to keep mocking me but mom caught that tricky eye, taking a step ahead of him.

She gives the container to Joe. “I don’t know if you can eat more of this but I notice you like them very much.”

The container has her mini tarts, Joe ate a lot of them last night. “Have a good flight Joe.” Dad added shaking his hand too.

“Thanks Joe for the talk, it’s really helpful.” Collin has something to say for the way he sees me. “I bet that my sis…” 

Mom pulls Collin inside of the house with an apologetic smile rolling her eyes. “Take care Joe.”

I shake my head giggling. “I guess that means, I won’t have any chance to see you, right?” He said looking down the hill, my house is set in a classic hill with a lot of curves on the way.

“On the other hand, you probably will see me.” Joe opened his eyes. “Dad bought tickets for that game, a way of recreating old moments. He used to take Collin and me to Thanksgiving games, until we became older enough that our schedules didn't fit.”

“At least I see you there.” Joe clicks his tongue. “On the opposite team.”

I laughed, seeing his tricky eyes. “It’s a familiar lineage, sorry.”

“I know, I know.” He rolls his eyes, that gives me an idea.

I walk searching one of the small benches on the porch. “Wait a second.” I go up on it. 

“Do you mind giving me a hand? I feel like I'm going to fall.” I extend my hands.

Joe walked until I was standing with narrow eyes. “You’re strong, right?” He nodded with a curious smile on his face as I laid my hands on his shoulder. 

Even standing here, I’m 2 or 3 cm shorter than him.

I’m crazy, that’s what I am.

“Extend your arms.” This time he tilted his head with the same curious eyes. “Just do it.” 

Joe extends his arms, at that moment I jump right to his arms taking him by surprise but with a quick reaction he holds me as my legs surrender his torso grabbing me by my thighs.

“Unexpected.” Joe smiles as I feel my face heat. 

“It's a big hug for the trip and for the one I won’t give you next week.” I untangle my legs to get down but he easily puts it on around his torso, one more time. 

“Are you that sure that I won’t get a hug, huh?” Joe giggles. 

“You can put me down, it was a small thing I wanted to do.” But he didn't move, instead he kissed me, longer than usual.

“Yeah, this way you’ll probably need to lean down a little bit from the stands?” I look at him with open eyes. “What? Is a small thing I want to corroborate; the way I’ll kiss you after winning that game.”

I mumble a few words as he smiles at me. “Now you’re confident?”

Joe threw his head backwards laughing so hard. “I’ll be so damn near to perfection.”

“I hear a bet?” I said, faking an offended expression. 

“Let's bet.” Joe smirks. 

“You can put me down.” I untangle my legs but he refused to let me go. 

“It works for my curls, keep talking.” I laugh, putting my hands on his shoulders 

I look into his eyes. “Ok, let’s do it.”

[anthrcpophagi]

"Well, they didn't have cars in Fair Verona, but I'm willing to bet if they did, there'd be plenty of plays including mobile-fornication." She bit back a grin as she continued, the topic of literature bringing a sparkle to her eye. "There are quite a few rumors that say Shakespeare was a bit of a pervert, though, so the road head thing might not be too far off." Biting at her lip, she tried to reel in her racing thoughts. She didn't want to scare him off with her rambling, but it had been so long since she'd last indulged in such a conversation. "And, to be fair, Juliet was only thirteen. And they only knew each other for three days. And that's not even mentioning Rosaline's role in the story."

Shaking her head Maren tried to pry her thoughts away from the topic. If he allowed her, she could go on for hours about the literary works she adored. And she'd had plenty of people in her life roll their eyes and groan whenever the topic was brought up, especially if Maren was in the vicinity. Romeo and Juliet, like many kids her age, had been her first introduction to Shakespeare, but, unlike her peers, Maren had fallen in love with the stories and all their wacky dynamics. She holds fodn memories of going to the library with her mama and renting volumes of Shakespeare's plays, and her mother reading them out loud in a silly voice while Maren tried to make sense of the foreign words.

When she was younger, Maren always thought the timeline of Romeo and Juliet was unrealistic. How could someone fall in love and plan a life together after only three days? It seemed unlikely to form an attachment that soon. How could someone become so infatuated with another without truly knowing each other? How could two people love each other so desperately that they'd put so many people in danger? But, when she thought about it, her relationship with Trent had been rather unrealistic, too. Perhaps it wasn't as dramatic-- and not nearly as bloody-- as Romeo and Juliet's love story, but she already found herself addicted to him, unable to imagine a life without him in it.

"No one's dyin', don't worry." She doesn't even allow herself to entertain the thought of him getting hurt, let alone dying. She would kill herself before she let anything happen to Trent. And she'd kill anyone who dared get between them. Was this what true love was? Was this what Romeo felt when he'd first laid eyes on Juliet? Was this what Juliet felt when she drank that poison and hoped for the best? Probably not, Maren would guess. After all, Juliet wasn't a monster like Maren was. And Romeo wasn't as sweet as Trent was. Besides, she thought to herself, if her life were to be compared to anything Shakespearean, it would be more akin to the banquet in Titus Andronicus than any of his romantic tales.

At his words, Maren freezes and looks at him with wide, doe eyes. As silly as it sounded, she had never had a best friend. She'd barely ever had friends before, not real ones anyway. It had been hard to make friends when she always moved schools, picking up and disappearing in the middle of the night. And the few friends she'd managed to make had been short-lived, too, most lasting longer in her intestinal tract than they ever did in her life.

"Really? I've never had one before." Brows furrowed, Maren tilted her head and bit at the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. "Best friends aren't supposed to kiss each other, though, are they? And I don't think best friends are supposed to think about doing any of the things I wanna do with you."

"Do they probe people at TSA checks?" He repeats, incredulous. His mouth is parts with disbelief, though the silence he's been shocked into is amended by a bright laugh. "Babe I don' think they get paid enough to be searchin' like that." Although he's not entirely sure himself. It makes him wonder about all the folks who try and smuggle drugs up their ass, what happens after the dogs sniff them out. His nose wrinkles at the thought. Really though, Trent could be convinced of anything. If the sermon was played long enough, he'd find himself eyeing the sky whenever a plane flew over. "Maybe they are angels." He replies, almost instinctively, then just as quickly catching himself, "That's why I can't listen to 'em too hard. Imma start thinkin' they're talkin' sense. I won't know what's what. 'Specially if they start shoutin' at me." He confesses. A brief thought is given to the homeless guy at the centre he sometimes volunteered at who had been abducted by aliens before. Trent will have to ask him next time if there was anything Godly about the experience. 

"I've been abducted by aliens if I'm ever tellin' you I'm opposed to it." He remarks, all grin. Trent's always been that way, shameless about it, his mouth running before his mind has time to catch up. He's never known hard to get, barely acquainted with playing it cool, the mandated dose of high school self consciousness abandoned in favour of the fair and the men there didn't have any qualms with baring their souls to any girl that'd give them a second glance. Trent always wants it, is the thing. Anywhere, anytime. Her even teasing it makes him want to drop to one knee and pull out a ring he doesn't have. 

Then she paints that picture and he's wincing, hand unconsciously covering his dick like he's part of the wall defending a free kick. It endears him that Maren can somehow relate dying while have sex in a car to Shakespeare. "You know I don' remember the part where Romeo crashes the car getting road head from his girl, but then again I weren't payin' attention in class like that." 

"Why are we dyin' at all?" Though her having mentioned sends a pang of unease through him. That the obituaries in tbe local newspaper would read 26-year-old male died immediately on impact a long with a 23-year-old female in the passenger seat. No one would know that he loved her a lot. The historians would be generous with using best friends. Trent hasn't told anyone about them yet, not for any reason, he's just been so distracted by her that he can't think of anyone else, let alone message them. "Besides, you are my best friend." It's a little outlandish to say, considering how long they've known each other. He says it anyway.

[joshoconnaissance]

what is the point of getting all these obscenely rich people dressed up if they aren't going to serve cunt

[skala]

and the universe said I love you

and the universe said you have played the game well

my son, I am so very proud.

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 12: Walter G. Grieve

...& I get to catch a bit of a break...

This week's iteration of the Illustrators series is a very simple one.

In my Internet-digging, I have found several different versions of A Tale of Two Cities which used the beautiful illustration by Walter Graham Grieve pictured above, and for a long time I'd thought it was simply a frontispiece - it was very common for an artist to only create one frontispiece illustration for a book rather than an entire series.

Imagine my surprise when I was finally able to go through one of these versions* (most weren't fully accessible - just the first few pages or images on a shopping website) and stumbled upon two more illustrations!

...just two! That's it!

I went through the whole book, and all I was able to find were the three total that you see here. Occasionally, an individual scan or entire edition will for whatever reason leave out some illustrations (as we have seen), but maybe Walter G. Grieve really did only make 3 total illustrations for the book. This version is also coupled with The Uncommercial Traveller, for which it looks like he also created one illustration - that could have something to do with it. Really makes you wonder!

Ultimately, I would have loved to have seen more of his work...but hey, in terms of putting his post together, it does make my life easier!

& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:

This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫

*technically the version I originally found was a different scan of this exact print copy of the book, but I just found this better scan today so I'm using it here instead!

[horsemage]

I think we should bring back basic etiquette lessons such as shutting the fuck up when you’re watching a movie in a group that is not exclusively your friend group 🙂

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[hexcitrine]

randomly looked at this account to update my age and holy shit it's been a while since i posted here..........i have a small pile of art i have yet to post but hbhbshdbshbd too lazy

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2023. THAT WE MAY LIVE and NO EDGES from Two Lines Press.

NO EDGES came in my Migrations subscription box earlier this year, and I finally got around to reading it this week! It's a collection of Swahili fiction translated to English. I love little multi-author anthologies because it's the perfect amount of taste testing without committing. My favorites were A Neighbor's Pot by Lusajo Mwaikenda Israel and the excerpt from Nakuruto by Clara Momanyi.

Up next is THAT WE MAY LIVE, which is speculative Chinese fiction in translation! The whole series of books looks really cool, so I'll probably be adding all of these to my library piecemeal.

[woodnrust]

I'm going to sound like a loser for a minute here but I am a tad bit disappointed every time I click on a video about commonplace notebook organization and then they proceed to show that they use it as a daily planner and/or to write down some thoughts on different topics. That is not commonplacing that's just journaling . what you are doing is keeping a journal

[unproduciblesmackdown]

bonus thing i cherish in this shot is that it's the one time it's immediately noticeable that her hair length is uneven....let's go Cutting One's Own Hair (With Or Without A Mirror) look havers irl (b/c of cutting one's own hair with or without a mirror, maybe) & even when it's recreated on purpose like so

[adw520]

cant sleep because i cant stop thinking about how the mechanic was a bit of an asshole to me for no reason when i got my car finally taken in

[psychoticallytrans]

When kids are trying to explain a problem they are having to you, you need to ask questions. Kids often don't have the words that they need to explain what is going on. So, they substitute in words that they do know that are as close as possible. If you take what they say at face value, you can sometimes entirely miss the actual problem.

A recent example is a kid, ten years old, I know who kept saying that their problem is that they "get bored" when reading. I've been helping by recommending books and other material relevant to their interests to their parents, but it didn't seem to work. So, I came over, sat down with the kid, and asked them to read as much of a short story as they could before they got bored.

They could read about sixty or so words before they were unable to focus on the text any longer.

According to them, this has been a problem since they were seven. But because "boredom" was the only word they had for it, they received attempts to get them more engaging texts. That's a great strategy for most book-shy kids, but not when it's looking far more like an undiagnosed disability. This kid has amazingly supportive parents who are now looking to get them more expertly evaluated, but because they didn't have the language to explain how bad the problem was, it flew under the radar for three years.

Ask kids clarifying questions when they're having trouble, especially when the problem you think they are telling you about isn't being solved by solutions that would normally work. You might figure out why those solutions aren't working.

[pseudowho]

"So, you go against the hairs...that's right...and then with the hairs..."

"...is-- is this right?"

"Mmm. Now, clean your blade..."

You pretended to tidy the bedroom, sneaking glances up to Kento, and Yuuji, stood shirtless at the bathroom sink. Both had thickly lathered faces, and sharp razors, examining their faces in the mirror with absolute precision.

Sshhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Peach fuzz.

"...and so anyway, I said to Fushiguro, shadows are great but sometimes you gotta just hit a guy..."

Kento listened, quiet, his mind always calculating several threads while mentoring Yuuji; yet, he was distracted. The old school corridor bathed in orange evening light, setting Yuuji's hair aflame, to coral in rocks. With Yuuji's nattering profile illuminated, the edges of his cheeks blurred from their usual sharp relief.

Fuzzy.

"...like, Kugisaki gets it, but she's like, just a bit feral and..."

Kento wondered if Yuuji had noticed. Kento recalled he only noticed, when his grandfather brushed his jaw with one clawed-over old hand, softly mocking Kento's furry scowl in lilting Danish. Kento's eyes lowered to the floor, counting his own steps and thinking in one, two, three and thoughtful on four, five, six.

"...Gojo's great but it's hard to learn from a guy who's that far out of my league, y'know? So--"

"Itadori-kun."

Kento had stopped, straightening his glasses, looking out onto suburban skyline. Yuuji stopped with him, inquisitive. A train rattled through, distant, splitting through the sunset. Kento looked back to Yuuji.

"It's important to look tidy, at work. Professional."

Yuuji raised his eyebrows, elbows rounded as he held his arms out, looking down at himself. He shot Kento a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his head.

Fuzzy peach.

"...ah-- yeah...guess I've always been a bit scruffy, huh? My grandad used to tell me I'd never get a job with hair like this."

Kento hummed. He stepped forwards, and raised one long-fingered, broad hand to gently grasp Yuuji's jaw, tilting it back and forth in the amber glow. Yuuji's bottom lip drew up, his eyes wide in surprise.

"...Nanamin?"

"Has anyone taught you how to shave, Yuuji?"

Yuuji blushed, his eyes flicking away from Kento in a mortified little scowl, his jaw still clasped. Kento released him, clearing his throat and checking his watch.

"I think we're finished up, here. Do you have any evening plans, Itadori-kun?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"If you need to go over an area again, get more shaving foam-- not that much-- and repeat the steps..."

"...this is...tricky..."

"With regular practice, you can improve any skill, Itadori-kun. Unless you'd like a beard, which still needs management, you'll be shaving every few days, or more."

"...you always...look so tidy..." swshswshswsh.

"It takes effort." Shhhick. Swsh.

"Yeah right. I bet you wake up like that. Tie and all."

A deep, rumbling laugh. Yuuji's foamy, surprised face, looking so boyish.

You slid past the bathroom. You pulled your phone out, surreptitiously clicking a photo. Kento and Yuuji, leaning over the sink while Kento steadfastly instructed him, became your new phone background, and stayed as such for a full year.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Took a lot of portions to send him to bed with a full tummy."

Kento chuckled at you, his hair mussed and soft. Legs crossed in bed, with a book on his lap, he read to the sound of soft snores in the guest bedroom next door. The lamplight, low and warm, illuminated Kento's face in the gloom.

Stubbly.

You reached a hand out, brushing across his jaw, feeling its sandpaper rasp across your fingers.

"I think you were so busy teaching Yuuji," you whispered, scratching Kento's chin as he crumpled his lower lip up, "that you missed some patches yourself. C'mere."

You stood, walking to the bathroom and sitting on the counter, grabbing a razor and shaving foam. Kento's eyes twinkled at you, feigning annoyance. He walked to you at the sink, looking straight into the bones of you. He grasped your thighs, pushing them apart before settling between them, chuckling again as you lathered his face.

Shhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.

You felt a growing pressure between your legs as you focused on shaving Kento's jaw. Kento fidgeted, pyjamas tight and tenting. You bit your lip, smirking.

"...Mr.Nanami. I am trying to concentrate."

"Mmm, so am I, but it's...hard."

"Yes. I can feel that."

Another deep rumble of a laugh. Kento grasped your thighs tighter, pressing forwards into you. You gasped, taking the razor from his face as Kento nuzzled shaving foam into your giggling neck.

"Don't stop." He whispered, a crooked smile on his lathered face. "Concentrate, please, Mrs.Nanami."