#wait actually that was enough years ago he's probably old enough to be on tumblr now

[tj-crochets]

I've gotten a lot of comments on that other post about my grandma from people saying they want her as their honorary grandma, and I thought all my new honorary cousins could use a family recipe! (it genuinely is a recipe that has been handed down through generations but also it may or may not be the recipe on the container of oats lol)

Grandma’s Not-Very-Secret Chocolate Oatmeal No-Bake Cookie Recipe

Keep reading

[restinslices]

Angst Idea: Headcanons or one shot is up to you; but the idea of Bi-Han’s kid died awhile ago prior to the games events(probably do to a rival clan wanting to take out the next heir of the clan) and it fuels a lot of his resentment towards liu Kang and stuff. It’s not until he meets one of the versions of his kid from a different timlime( probably during Khaos regins or during one of the many invasion seasons) and he ends up desperately trying to connect with this version of his kid even if it’s not really his original version of them.

Oh this is delicious.

I'm writing this on the tumblr website so I can’t check the word count, soooo to prevent this from being stupidly long, Imma split this into two parts (if ya’ll want the next part).

CW: Angst, child death, non canon storyline

(He so damn fine. The red flags just looking like flags~)

Bi-Han knew he had his faults. He was ill tempered, dishonest, untrusting, held grudges, the list could go on and on. All those flaws disappeared when he was around a special someone, tossed in the wind and floating about, waiting until he was away from them.

He wouldn't blame anyone for assuming he'd be a strict father who took issue with everything his child did. He knew Kuai Liang and Tomas assumed he'd be just like that, only to be surprised when he proved himself to be the gentlest of souls when it came to his baby.

"Aw man!" The seven year old pouted as they kicked at a rock, "okay, you hide next and I'll try to find you!". Hide and Seek had been their favorite game for years now, for reasons he didn't know. He just chalked it up to one of the many things they found intriguing that he personally didn't care for. They covered their eyes with their hands, "one! Two! Three-!

Bi-Han's rough hands pulled theirs from their eyes, "playtime is over". He had already let them skip out on the last hour of their lessons. He had to be somewhat sensible and at least get them to bed on time. "We'll play again tomorrow"

"But I wanna play now"

"Yeah? Well-"

A gasp followed by a squeal left them, which honestly could've meant a number a things. Children were excitable by nature but he swore they had more energy than any normal child did.

"Daddy look!" his eyes followed where they pointed, eventually seeing…

A butterfly.

A butterfly?

That's what got them excited? "Isn't it pretty?

Not necessarily. It was just a butterfly. A little insect with wings. Whatever caused them to squeal, he didn't see it. But he also wasn't a child anymore. His mind had been reigned in by the reality of being an adult long ago, his childish wonder dripping out of him until there was nothing left. "It's a butterfly"

"But isn't it pretty?". He shrugged. "You don't like butterflies?

"I don't care for them"

"Why not?

"I just don't. Come on, let's go home"

His extended hand went ignored, his child instead choosing to slowly approach the flower the butterfly sat on. "I think you should start liking butterflies. They're small, but small things keep us happy". Ugh, what cereal box did they read that from?

"I'll considerate it" he said, trying not to sound as uninterested as he actually was. "Let's go home"

"Hey dad" you looked over at him, "I'm gonna make history when I'm Grandmaster. Wanna know how?

Hmm... Your intellect maybe? You'll be known as the wisest Grandmaster the Lin Kuei have had so far. Or maybe your strength. You'll crush the bones in someone's body without even thinking. Or maybe you'll be fast enough to kill 1000 men within the blink of an eye. Or maybe-

"I'm gonna be happy"

Happy? How would being happy make history?

"Grandpa was pretty grumpy sometimes. You are too. Maybe Grandmasters are always grumpy. I won't be though. I'm gonna be the very first happy Grandmaster. You wanna know how?". You fully turned to face him, arms outstretched "like this. I'll have open arms"

As smart as Bi-Han was, you had fully lost him by now. "Open arms?

You nodded, "yeah. That means I won't be all angry and violent all the time. I'll be kind. That's what I wanna be when I grow up; kind. I think everyone would be a lot more happier if everyone was kind. Everyone doesn't have to be sad and angry". The butterfly began to flutter away, catching your attention. "Maybe I'll inspire others to greet the world with open arms. You think I can do that?”

No. As harsh as it sounded, Bi-Han knew what you wanted was impossible. People would always yell, fight and kill. The world would continue to be ugly because that's just how the world was. There was no "greeting the world with open arms". That wasn't realistic. No Grandmaster was happy because being a Grandmaster meant carrying a heavy burden. You'd see.

But he couldn't tell you that. You looked too sweet and innocent, eyes full of light when thinking about a future that couldn't be.

"I think... " he began, setting his hand down on your shoulder. "I think you can do whatever you set your mind to"

That smile was worth the lie.

"Can we play one more round of hide and seek before we go home? Please please please? I won't even choose a super good hiding spot, and we can use the clap rules! Please please please please pleeeeeasssee?”

No! You need to get to bed!

"Alright, fine"

Dammit Bi-Han. Just one more round, then you'd be off to bed. Then he swore he'd be more strict with you.

"Close your eyes!”

Yeah yeah, he knew how the game went. He closed his eyes before covering them with his hands (because you always sword he was peeking if he didn't cover his eyes), then counted loudly. 1, 2, 3, he shouted each number until he got to 10. "First clap!”

Clap clap!

East.

His feet carried him while his eyes scanned the area. The faster he found you, the faster you could both be inside. He wouldn't admit it, but damn, he was tired. A mix of both physical and mental exhaustion, but he tried his best to hide all that from you.

"Second clap!”

He waited a bit.

Silence.

"Second clap!" he shouted louder. Still, all he got was silence in return. There was no way you didn't hear him. You always heard him when he called for you. "Clap or we're going home!".

More silence.

Then a ear piercing scream.

"DAD, HELP!”

You were a jokester, yeah, but this was no prank. You'd never play like this with him, and that scream, it was of genuine horror. It was a tone he had never heard you use before. A tone that scared the hell out of him, and caused him to run in the direction where he last heard you clap.

He kept running, calling out for you, heart thumping faster than it ever had before. A snake. Let it be a snake that frightened you. Or a spider. Anything but you actually being harmed. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”.

“DAD!”.

He was getting closer.

He could hear you crying.

All these stupid fucking trees were in his way. He kept having to finagle his way through them, which only added to his panic. Seconds wasted on trying not to run straight into one. “I’M COMING!”.

“DAD!”

“I’M-“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you. A nightmare. That’s what he wanted this to be. This couldn’t be real. You couldn’t actually be laying on the ground, blood seeping from the several stab wounds you had. How? He had just saw you!

Someone had been watching you. How hadn’t he noticed?!

“I have you” he ran to your side, heart tearing into two when he heard you cry in reaction to him sitting you up. “Daddy’s here. I have you”. Who would do this to you?! Who would attack a child just trying to play with their father?!

“I’m scared” you managed to get out in between your heavy breathing. So was he.

“Don’t be. I have you”.

“I don’t wanna die”.

“You won’t! I’ll get you home!”. You blinked, but it lasted too long. He had to get you home now! “Stay awake. I have you”. That’s all he wanted you to do. Just stay awake and let him get you help.

Your breathing changed almost at an instant. Your hyperventilating slowed, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. “Dad…”.

Bi-Han watched as you let out your last breath.

Your eyes were still open, but they lacked the warmth from earlier. They were lifeless now, no light in sight. A smile no longer graced your face. There was no talk of open arms. There was no big speech like there was in the books he read as a child. You were just gone.

“Baby” he whispered, “wake up. Don’t- this is an order from your Grandmaster! Get up! GET UP!”. He shook you with all his might, but the dead didn’t follow orders. He rocked back and forth, your blood staining his clothes, his forehead on yours, letting out the most gut wrenching sobs he had ever let out in his entire life. When his mother died, he was sad, but he was comforted by the fact that she had lived a beautiful and long life. You were so young. You still had so much of the world to see. Shit, maybe you actually could’ve led some unnatural era of peace. He didn’t fucking know. All he knew was that it would never happen now.

His baby was gone. His beautiful sweetheart with a laugh as beautiful as the clouds in the sky, was gone.

You were just a corpse now.

~~

When Bi-Han found out that Liu Kang was the creator of this timeline, he wasn’t shocked like the others. He hadn’t seen it coming, but he felt something stronger than shock.

He felt rage.

As creator of this timeline, not only had he chosen to have the Lin Kuei remain mediocre, but he must’ve known that you would be killed.

“That’s not true” he tried to tell Bi-Han, “I am no puppet master. I had no idea that your child would die, and I didn’t plan for it to happen”.

“Then bring them back”.

“I can’t”.

Bullshit. He could do anything! He just refused to!

Liu Kang… he was the true traitor yet everyone was angry with Bi-Han?! He hadn’t meant for Sindel to die, but why was everyone upset by her death? What about his child? No one demanded justice for them! Even when their death was fresh, all these people who cried for Sindel, their “allies”, did nothing. Liu Kang could’ve burnt their rival clan down to the ground, but no! Bi-Han had to carry the weight of his grief, and somehow think straight enough to make a plan of attack. When he looked up from your corpse and spotted the pendant of his rival clan nearby, gods, he wanted everyone to die. And Liu Kang had the nerve to advise him to think on it first?! No!

“The innocent men, women and children-”

What about his child?!

That grudge was the wind beneath his wings, carrying him away from everyone he once called an ally. But it also carried him to what appeared to be his own destruction.

He was in an unfamiliar timeline now, woozy from the fight he was just in. Fine, maybe he should’ve made a better decision, but at least he was doing something! Liu Kang would probably have him be inactive as always!

But now he was in an even worse spot. In unfamiliar lands with a madman ranting about his need for anarchy. Black tendrils with sharp points came closer and closer to Bi-Han, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid.

Then, there was a noise. A clattering on the ground.

Before Titan Havik could react, a sudden wave of ice filled the nearby area, freezing anyone with their feet touching the ground. Ice crawled up the nearby machines, but thankfully it didn’t stick the way it did to flesh.

“Move move move!”. Ugh, of all variants, it had to be Jonny Cage?

Johnny Cage in a military uniform? He needed a nap.

“How long do those bombs last?” Johnny asked, rushing over to Geras and freeing him from his confines.

“Long enough for us to get out of here!”.

That voice…

He was upside down, but he could still recognize the child approaching him. He heard that voice in his dreams and nightmares. Of course he’d recognize it.

“Hi dad”.

His baby.

TUMBLR PLS STOP DELETING RANDOM SHIT! THIS IS SUCH A RANDOM ASS GLITCH-

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTW: Robbie, (/) Georgie; small talk

I’m putting this week’s story of the week on tumblr rather than Patreon because Georgie isn’t the only one with a permanent weakness wherever Roberto Lombardi is involved.

For the prompt: Robbie POV of the latest SAIT?

The way Chaps tracks him down after the game, a determined clip and a panicked expression, Robbie thinks some bad shit just went down, bracing for it before he even opens his mouth.

“I invited Georgie out for drinks,” David says, mouth twisted, looking worried, apologetic. “I’m sorry, he’s good friends with Jake and I wasn’t thinking–”

“It’s fine,” Robbie says as soon as he processes it, mostly just relieved that Chaps isn’t telling him Volkie or Lourdy is in the hospital after a dirty hit, or something similarly serious. This is not — well, it’s not fucking ideal, but it’s not the situation it would have been a couple years ago, not the situation David’s face says he sees it as.

“No worries, Chaps,” Robbie adds, as David continues to look panicked.

“Are you sure?” David asks, “I can tell him–”

He stops, looking physically ill at the idea of having to uninvite Georgie. Robbie thinks it might actually kill him if he tried. Or maybe it goes against one of his prime directives as Hockey Canada Robot: 1. Do not harm a human unless he’s an opponent, and try to avoid it even then 2. Do not harm yourself or other Hockey Canadians 3. Please be polite.

“No worries,” Robbie repeats, affectionately scrubbing David’s hair when he continues to look like he has all the worries. He could tell David that Georgie’s probably not coming anyway, that Georgie knows better than that, but for some reason he doesn’t say it. Maybe because it sounds too ugly even in his own head.

“Maybe he won’t come,” David says tentatively, but not like he’s hoping for it. Robbie doesn’t think Chaps issues enough invitations to hope any of them are rejected. He doesn’t issue invitations at all, honestly, waits to be explicitly invited along even to the shit he has an open invite to.

Robbie finds himself in the bowels of the visitor’s side of things, hunting Georgie down. The things he does for friends, he swears. It’s not hard, at least – none of the Whalers see anything but a former teammate looking for his old D-partner. Robbie recognizes his replacement hanging out in front in front of the visitor’s exit, a dude practically twice his size who greets Robbie with a level of genuine friendliness that makes Robbie feel a little bad for hating his guts.

But it’s whatever, it’s fine. Schneider points him where he needs to go.

Georgie looks wary when Robbie finds him, which is probably the right call. He’s got a nick in his brow, must have gotten clipped, and Robbie doesn’t know if it was there before the game, or one of their guys. He wasn’t looking.

“Don’t worry,” he says, before Robbie says a word. “I’m not going.”

“You should,” Robbie says.

“Really?” Georgie asks, and Robbie tries not to bristle at the note of incredulity in his voice, because he can’t actually blame him for it.

“Chaps invited you, right?” Robbie asks. “He’ll think he did something wrong if you don’t come. You know how he is.”

“Okay,” Georgie says, which is exactly what Robbie came for, so he doesn’t know why he leaves unsatisfied.

Chaps doesn’t look relieved when Georgie walks in the door most of a drink in, but he doesn’t look disappointed either. Robbie doesn’t know how to describe the expression, but it’s enough to make him glad he found Georgie. It’s a big bar, and they shouldn’t have any trouble avoiding each other. Hell, they managed pretty well when they were sharing a locker room, so this is nothing.

Which means there’s absolutely no excuse for Robbie hovering at the bar stool next to him, another round in.

“Hey,” Robbie says,

“Hey,” Georgie says,

“Mind if I sit?” Robbie asks.

Georgie nudges the stool with his foot, just enough to send it Robbie’s way, and Robbie sits down. He bets if he looks around he’ll find Matty lurking somewhere, horrified and ready to pounce. No reason for it, though. Robbie’s just making conversation.

The bartender arrives, eyebrows raised, and Georgie orders a pint of what Robbie was drinking. Robbie switches to a bottle. He doesn’t know why — draft tastes better. Maybe pacing himself or some shit. Probably a good idea. 

“You played well tonight,” Robbie says.

“You did too,” Georgie says, and the silence stretches, neither of them saying shit.

“You didn’t text me or anything,” Robbie says. He didn’t know he was going to say it until he does, and it comes out sounding almost whiny. Fucksakes, Lombardi. “Let me know where you were going.”

Georgie blinks, takes a sip of his beer. “Didn’t think you’d care,” he says.

“That’s not fair,” Robbie says.

“Really?” Georgie asks. “That’s not fair?”

Robbie can’t exactly retort to that. He’d have been pissed off if Georgie assumed he did give a shit, told him not to fucking flatter himself. Still. 

“Your ma must be thrilled,” Robbie says. “All her boys nearby.”

“She burst into tears every time she saw me for literal months,” Georgie says fondly, and Robbie smiles despite himself. She always cried a little whenever Georgie came home, so he’s not surprised Georgie signing close would get a whole ass crying jag.

“You like it?” Robbie asks. “Hartford?”

“It’s quiet,” Georgie says.

“So nah,” Robbie says.

“No, I do,” Georgie says. “I do.”

“You and Schneider play well together,” Robbie says, instead of ;why’ when he doesn’t even want the answer. “That kid’s going to be around a long time.”

“I know,” Georgie says. “Guess I only do okay as long as I’m playing with studs.”

“Fuck off,” Robbie says, abruptly furious, then has to laugh at himself. Every fucking commentator throws that word around, it’s not like it means — it doesn’t mean shit like Robbie’s taking it. He swears Georgie could say it was a nice day and it’d piss him off. It’s almost funny from the outside. Almost, not really. Probably not particularly funny to Georgie.

“I should go,” Georgie says, right on cue, and Robbie has no right to be pissed off at that either.

“Nobody’s stopping you,” he says.

“My captain literally told me not to stay out too late,” Georgie says.

“Isn’t he like, five years old?” Robbie asks. He’s been in the league maybe a couple years, max.

“He takes the job seriously,” Georgie says. For all he’s talking about heading out, he hasn’t moved an inch. “How’s your mom?”

“Good,” Robbie says. “Better. Was rough going for awhile, but she’s good.”

“The rest of the fam?” Georgie asks.

Robbie takes a swig, bottle hitting the bar with a dull thud that reverberates through his forearm. “Fuck ‘em.”

“Sorry.”

“It is what it is, right?” Robbie asks, and he doesn’t know he feels about the look of understanding on Georgie’s face, but if he is mad, he’s not mad enough to feel it, not under everything else.

“It is what it is,” Georgie says.

What does piss Robbie off is that in his mouth it sounds fucking profound. In Robbie’s it just sounded bitter. Was bitter. Robbie Lombardi, bitter about something? Call the fucking press.

Robbie knocks on the bar twice, clears his throat. “Good to see you,” he says, and it’s not the truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either, or at least not as much of one as he expected it to be.

Georgie must not stick around long, after. Robbie doesn’t see him leave. Early flight out, probably, and apparently a boy scout captain. And, he supposes, no reason to stick around anyway, not anymore.

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Bard's Zahar

Chapter 40 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  Link to Series Masterlist. Also find it over on A03!

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Translation(s): Bard's Zahar: Bard's House

Khakhafê: My ass

~~

Um....Long time no see? I legitimately can't remember the last time I posted here on Tumblr. (Probably like 2 years ago or something). Anyways, life is slightly less busy for me now as I wrap up my final semester in college before I'm student teaching, and like 3 weeks ago I reread ADM, started editing it, and actually got inspired to write it again after like 2 years of not touching it. This thing is literally like 5 years old. But the bones are still solid and I hope 2025 sees me actually finish this thing once and for all. Anyways, enjoy this chapter that I finally finished off after having it sit for a few years!

~~

I watched, teeth chattering loudly, as Dwalin disappeared under the murky water.  The rest of us waited our turns in the icy depths, all wishing that there were other options.  I mean, truly, how humiliating was it to come up through the toilet?

A gust of wind blew over us and sent chills down my spine, prompting my nervous system to launch an involuntary shiver through my body.  Merciful Manwë, my nipples felt like they were going to burst out of my blouse, it was so cold!

My only comfort was that everyone else seemed to feel the same way.  As we had entered the bitter cold water, each dwarrow had made their discomfort very obvious.  There had been more than one muttered conversation about switching to a different gender.

The water lapped uncomfortably at my chin, and I nervously shifted my weight.  I clung tightly to the hem of Thorin’s shirt, afraid to let go lest I fall and not be able to get back up.

“Are you sure there isn’t any other way?”  I asked again, and Thorin turned to look down at me.  His hair, just beginning to dry from our trip in the barrels, fell into his face, causing him to raise a hand to brush it back.

“Unfortunately not, Estel,” he murmured, glancing over as Ori vanished beneath the water.  I suddenly became aware of just how fast my heart was beating; like it was about to pound out of my chest.

I took a deep breath, trying to slow my accelerated heartrate.  “You know, I don’t think I can do it.  I’ll just take my chances…”  I began to mutter breathlessly, biting my lip.

Thorin reached out a hand to gently squeeze my shoulder, his eyes soft.  “You’ll be fine, my love.  I’ll be right behind you.  Just breathe, okay?”  He said reassuringly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.  “Now, let’s go.”

He pushed me forward and a cavern opened up in the pit of my stomach, sucking my pounding heart down into it as I realized that it was my turn.

“No, I really don’t want to do it.”  I whispered, staring up at Thorin beseechingly.  “There has to be some other way.”

“Estel,” Thorin’s voice hardened, “you have to do it.  I know you can.”  He disentangled my fingers from the hem of his tunic even as I clung desperately to him. 

“Thorin—” The ominous shortness of breath returned.

“Estel, I will push you under the water if I have to.  You have to go, now.”  Thorin commanded, his voice harsh.  I stared up at him in disbelief.  It had been a very long time since he had used that gruff tone around me, and I had forgotten just how it sent chills down my spine.  And not in a good way.

That and the threat of being forced beneath the water was frightening enough for me to swallow hard and try and get a grip on my thoughts.  Taking a deep breath, I plunged beneath the surface of the water.

The chill that bit straight through my body and into my very marrow almost had me opening my mouth to let out a gasp. 

Blindly, I swam forward, reaching to find the wooden posts that made up the foundation of Bard’s house.  With each second that passed by and I still hadn’t touched anything other than water, my heart began to pound again.

Just as I thought I was going to have to surface to snatch a gasp of air, my fingers brushed against a slimy, thing.  Flinching at the disgusting feeling of the slick, icky algae, I hesitantly reached back out to grab hold of the post and pulled myself up.

The next second, my head broke through the surface of the water and I eagerly filled my burning lungs with great gulps of air. 

Forget that I was coming up out of someone’s toilet, I was just glad to have a breath of—

I was suddenly hoisted up into the air as something solid rammed up against my thighs.  Letting out a shriek of surprise, I grasped wildly for something to hang onto.  The closest thing in reach was the head of dark hair that had sprouted between my legs.

I clung tightly to the wet strands of hair, causing whoever had surfaced beneath me (and was now carrying me on their shoulders) to let out a growl of pain.

“LET GO!”  They hissed, grabbing onto my legs to hold me steady.  “Get off!”  His snarls trailed off into angry sputters as my weight forced him back into the water.

Oh, it was Thorin.  He had said that he would be right behind me, hadn’t he? 

“Here,” a dark-haired lad reached out to grab my arm and help me clamber over the side of the toilet.  I collapsed on the floor as soon as I was free of the watery death-trap, legs numb from the anesthetizing effects of the frigid water. 

Thorin more or less crawled out of the toilet, just in time before Bofur popped up right behind him, sputtering.  Had I not been half-frozen and slightly shell-shocked, I would have taken the time to appreciate just how hilarious it would have been to see Thorin settled on Bofur’s shoulders.

Truly it was a once in a lifetime chance.

Propping himself up on hands and knees, Thorin took a moment to catch his breath before looking up into my wide eyes through dripping obsidian locks.  “I apologize for my harsh words, Estel.  You had quite the grip on my hair.”  He said breathlessly, and I shook my head.

“You did scare me, lifting me up like that.  I thought you were some sort of sea monster, to tell the truth.  But you had every right to yell at me for yanking your hair.”  I explained, causing Thorin to grin and chuckle.

“Me?  A sea monster?”  He laughed, pushing himself up off the floor and offering me his hand.  “Where did you ever get that idea?”  He pulled me to my feet and wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me out of the bathroom and into Bard’s house.

I pursed my lips, “oh, probably around the time I touched the slimy post and realized that there just might be fish in these waters.”  I gave him a side eye.  “But I don’t think I have any need of fishing.  Not after I have obviously caught the best catch of the day.”  I murmured.

Thorin grinned broadly, shaking his head.  “You are a witty one, amrâlimê.  I do not know how I didn’t catch it before.” 

“Me?  Witty?” 

A devious smirk began to wind its way across Thorin’s bearded cheeks, overtaking the grin.  “Yes, Estel.  You have quite the way with words.  May I bring your attention to “khakhafê’?”  He murmured quietly in my ear so the others didn’t hear.

The blood that had seemed to be basically nonexistent before, now rose in my cheeks at the memory of that conversation.  “Okay, okay, I get the point.”  I hurriedly to say before Thorin could continue on.

Bard strode into the room with an armful of clothes.  Dumping them out on the table, he took a step back as the rest of the company swarmed around it.  “They may not be the best fit, but they’ll keep you warm,” he promised.

Hovering on the outskirts of the jostling mass of dwarves, I stood on my tiptoes in an attempt to see what was available.  Even if only a shirt was available I wouldn’t complain.  I just wanted to be out of my sopping clothes. 

Thorin, never the most patient dwarrow, proceeded to elbow his way to the clothes.  Vaguely I wondered what it would be like to have such confidence in your strength.  Manwë knew that I would just be squashed into jelly if I tried that move.

“Here,” Thorin emerged from the slowly dispersing crowd, holding out a red shirt that looked to be much too large for me. 

Like, the neckline would hang halfway down my chest large. 

“I’ve got something for you, miss.”  Bard’s voice sounded behind me and I turned to look at him and the clothing he was holding out to me. 

Thorin huffed behind me. 

I took the offered clothing, trying not to frown at the sight of the faded grey pinafore and cream shirt.  The last thing I wanted to wear was a dress.  But if this was all that was offered, then I would just have to suck it up.

“Thank you, Bard.”  I murmured quietly, trying to disguise the distaste in my voice.  “Do you have someplace I could change?” 

He nodded, “aye.  Tilda!” 

A young girl in a blue pinafore appeared, looking expectantly up at Bard.  “Yes, Da?”  She asked, and Bard pointed to me.

“Can you show her to your room so she can change?” 

Tilda nodded, looking over at me curiously.  I didn’t blame her; we were both the same height but far over a century apart in age.  “This way,” she motioned, walking quickly to a staircase.  “It’s the door to the left of the painting.”

I smiled at her, “thank you—”  I stumbled over the last word as my eyes flickered behind Tilda to rest on the brooding expression of the obsidian-haired dwarrow. 

Turning, I walked up the rickety staircase; each footstep eliciting a groan from the warped wood.  Behind me, I could hear Thorin’s heavy steps garnering the same result.

Arriving on the landing, I looked up at the painting Tilda said I would find.  It was of a man and a woman sitting next to each other, wearing slight smiles. 

“What is so interesting?”  Thorin asked, standing beside me.  “It is only a painting.”

I blinked rapidly a few times.  “It’s not just a painting, Thorin.  It’s a memory.”  I whispered, twisting my head in time to see Thorin’s brow crease.

“What do you mean, ‘a memory’?” 

“Do you not see the resemblance?  It’s Bard and his wife.  Probably the only picture he has of her.”  I said softly, biting my lip as a lump rose in my throat. 

“Oh.”  Thorin’s voice was quiet as he looked up at the painting with a new interest.

“I should probably change.”  I murmured, tearing my gaze away from the painting and opening the door that lay to its left. 

“I’ll make sure no one walks in on you.”  Thorin promised gruffly, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. 

I couldn’t help the smile that stole across my face.  “Thanks, amrâlimê.”

~~~~~

“You have got to be kidding me.”  I hissed, tugging on the pinafore in vain.  I had harbored suspicions that Tilda might have been a bit smaller than me, and I was not disappointed.

First off, I couldn’t even get the shirt to button.  Second, the pinafore was much too tight across my chest.  If I made just one wrong move, the seams would burst and my stifled breasts would be in full view of anyone in the vicinity.

“This is NOT going to work.”  I pulled the pinafore off with some difficulty and shed the shirt.  Tugging my damp clothes back on, I peeked out the door into the hallway.  “Thorin?”

“Done?”  Thorin asked, pushing himself off the wall.

“Uh, no.”  I said sheepishly.  “The clothes don’t fit.” 

Thorin raised an eyebrow.  “In what way?”

Heat rose in my cheeks.  “None of your business.  Can you just get me something different?”

“On the contrary, as your husband I believe it is my business.”  Thorin teased relentlessly, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Please?”  I begged, “I’m freezing.”

He nodded, turning and heading back down the stairs. 

In a few moments, Thorin returned with Bard’s elder daughter in tow, faded garments slung over one of her arms.  “Sigrid has something that might fit you.”  He said, and the young woman handed me the clothes.

“I don’t think anything of mine would fit you, so I found one of Bain’s old shirts.  It should do.”  She explained, pointing to a dark brown fabric.  “And I found one of my smaller skirts.  It may need a few more inches taken off, but it might fit you.” 

I resisted the urge to make a face at the thought of wearing a skirt. 

“Thank you, I’m sorry for all the trouble.”  I apologized, but the woman just offered me a smile before she disappeared back down the stairs. 

“No trouble at all.” 

I closed the door again, heaving a sigh as I stared down at the clothes. 

Thankfully, Sigrid had been right in her guesses, and Bain’s shirt had fit more or less perfectly.  Sure, it hung past my hips, but you couldn’t tell when I had the dratted skirt on.  Which, speaking of the skirt, I was less than pleased with it.  The hem brushed my shins, which I considered far too long. 

I could just imagine how it would impede me if I had to climb up a mountain or flee from an orc.  With my renowned clumsiness, I was all too certain that I would get my legs tangled within the skirts.

And the faded blue clashed horribly with the brown of the shirt.  While I do admit that fashion was not my highest concern (nor had it ever been) I still found the combination appalling.  I could only imagine what Thorin would think. 

A wistful part of me wondered if he would think I was pretty.  The Valar knew that I had only ever dressed in very masculine clothes around him and didn’t flaunt my curves.  How would he react to seeing me in a skirt?

I couldn’t help but daydream about watching him rake his eyes over me, a little smile—the one I coveted like it was the Arkenstone itself—tugging at the corner of his bearded cheek.  Then he would step up to me and look down into my eyes, now grinning outright as he said:  “you look gorgeous, amrâlimê.”

“Estel?”  A knock sounded on the door and I was unceremoniously removed from my daydream. 

“Almost done,” I called back, doublechecking the knots on my blouse—I didn’t fancy inadvertently showing off my cleavage—before scooping up my damp clothes and walking over to the door. 

Stepping out into the hallway, I carefully closed the door before turning to look at Thorin.  He was absorbed with taking in my new look, an eyebrow slightly raised.  In turn, I noted that he was no longer dressed in his blue tunic and had swapped it for new trousers and a red shirt.  Which looked suspiciously like the one I had rejected earlier. 

“So, what do you think?”  I asked, forcing in a note of nonchalance.  He didn’t need to know about the new, odd desire for my appearance to please him.  Honestly, I was surprised with myself.  Since when had I ever cared about what a man thought of my dress?  I’d spent the past five months traveling with Thorin and hadn’t had the thought cross my mind till now.

Thorin shrugged.  “It suits you.  Although,” his expression turned contemplative, “it isn’t the most practical for climbing a mountain.”

“My thoughts exactly…”  I mumbled.  Why had that little abyss opened up in my chest?  Why was I so hung up on his thoughts on how I looked?

“Come,” Thorin jerked his head in the direction of the staircase.  “The others are waiting downstairs.” 

I followed him down to where the rest of the company was gathered around the single fireplace, dressed in new, mostly ill-fitting clothing. 

Thorin made no move to join them; instead choosing to seat himself next to one of the windows near where Balin was standing. 

The elder dwarf gave me a smile as we joined him.  “Why, Estel, you look rather fetching,” he commented, seeming always to know what I needed to hear. 

“Thanks, Balin.”  I looked over at Thorin to see his reaction, only for him not to even spare a glance in my direction.  “I don’t think the skirt is very practical, but it’s a temporary fix until my clothes dry, I hope.”

My glance at Thorin didn’t go unnoticed by Balin, and he spared a glance over at the dwarrow himself.  “The practicality of something is up to you, Estel.  It might suit a different purpose than what you originally assume.”  He shrugged.

Thorin suddenly straightened, leaning forward to look at something through the window.  “The Dwarvish wind-lance!”  He gasped, drawing our attention to him. 

Bilbo chose that moment to come over, shooting Thorin a look.  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  He commented, and Balin came over to peer out the window.  As he caught sight of what Thorin saw, his face became drawn. 

“He has.  The last time we saw such a weapon the city was on fire.”  His voice was solemn.  “It was the day the dragon came.  The day that Smaug destroyed Dale.”  He spoke of the Black Arrows; dwarf-forged and tough enough to pierce the hide of a dragon. 

Thorin didn’t seem to hear Balin’s words.  He was still gazing out the window, eyes focused on nothing more than memories.  I sidled closer to him, wondering what he saw. 

I knew Thorin had been a young dwarrow the day that Erebor had been taken from his clan.  He’d told me how he’d stood before the gates, waiting for the dragon with his troops at his side.  How out of all the men he commanded, he was the only one to make it out alive. 

It was a burden that no one should have been forced to carry with them.  A responsibility had been placed upon him that day to one day return to Erebor; take it back for his people.  A responsibility that had only grown heavier as his Grandfather and Father fell in battle, leaving him the sole male of his line. 

As I approached, Thorin seemed to return to the present, looking over at Balin before sapphire eyes came to rest on me.

“If the aim of men had been true that day, much would’ve been different.”  He spoke, and the weight of the years rested on those words.  His anger at the loss of his home.  His sorrow over the thousands of lives lost.  But there was also a thoughtfulness to it.  What good things would not have occurred? 

“You speak as if you were there.”  Bard’s voice sounded curiously from behind Balin.  The man stood, brow furrowed in question. 

“All dwarves know the tale.”  Thorin rumbled, returning his gaze back to the window. 

“I didn’t.”  I couldn’t help but mutter quiet enough that the man couldn’t hear. 

Thorin huffed a short laugh.  “All dwarves but you, then.”  A small smile played across his face.  “If you don’t know that story, then I must be failing as your teacher.” 

“It’s a story about how your people were slaughtered and your whole world was flipped upside down.  I don’t expect it to be one you enjoy sharing.” 

~~~~

Somehow, it didn’t even shock me that the dwarves would take offence at the weapons that Bard offered them.  All because they weren’t solid iron.  As if they wouldn’t work just as well.

The thought had me rolling my eyes, leaning back against the wall with my arms crossed as I watched their argument from a distance. 

“What is your name?”  A curious voice piped up suddenly, and I jumped, looking over at the young girl who had sprouted beside me. 

She looked to be no more than 10 years old, but was already as tall as me.  Seeing my surprise, she was apologetic.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.  I just was curious.”

“I just didn’t hear you coming.  I get surprised rather easily, I’m afraid.”  I smiled gently, “and my name is Estel.  What’s yours?”  I recognized her as the young girl who had showed me to her room to change, but wanted to keep the conversation going.

The girl brightened.  “That’s a pretty name!  I’m Tilda.  How did you get your hair to look like that?” 

Now I couldn’t help smiling at the girl’s innocent questions.  “My husband did it for me.  I could never do anything as intricate.”  Which was true.  Thorin had spent quite a bit of time creating the interwoven braids.

Tilda gasped softly.  “Do you think he would teach Sigrid?  I’d like to have braids as pretty as yours.” 

I laughed, wondering how Thorin would react to the young girl asking her to braid her hair like mine.  To replicate the intricate style that represented his proposal of marriage and my acceptance.  “He may, I will have to ask him.”  Perhaps he could teach her something harmless.

“I’ll go ask Sigrid if she’ll learn.”  Tilda grinned, running off to go find her older sister. 

“That’s sweet.”  I murmured to myself, still smiling. 

“What is sweet?”  Thorin came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle. 

“Nothing.  You’ve just got an admirer.”  I grinned, tilting my head back to look up at him.  “Tilda was asking if you’d braid her hair like mine.”

Thorin chuckled softly.  “What would my wife think of me proposing to another woman?” 

“I figured you might just teach her something harmless.  She doesn’t know what it means.  She’s just a little girl and though it was pretty.”

Thorin nuzzled my neck, beard scratching against my skin.  “I think it is much more than just ‘pretty’, amrâlimê.” 

“Of course.  Now, have you all figured out whether or not you’re going to lower yourselves to using Bard’s weapons?”  I gently pulled away from Thorin, mindful of just how many watching eyes there were.

Reluctantly, he allowed me to turn to face him, his hands sliding down to grasp mine.  “We’re going to raid the armory tonight.  Those ‘weapons’, “he sneered the word, “will do us no good.  We need real iron.” 

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[husbandogoddess]

Hello! I know you must get a bunch of questions, I hope this isn't a bother. I've gotten into visual novels a year ago, & well a few have caught my eye. Your demo game Candied Hearts was wonderful! I have always loved fictional men, lol.

Peppermint is SOOO cute! His flustered face after saying he was looking for someone's lost honey bunny was precious! (The fact that he believes in the Holiday Gnome is adorable!) It's so sweet when he removes the cotton candy from your hair! I love his voice so much. Peppermint doesn't have much confidence in himself & despite being a captain, no one takes him seriously. But, I know this sweet prince could be a wonderful ruler. Even as he defends his abusive father, it's realistic...Peppermint is clinging onto a past memory of who his father once was. But part of me doubts that his father was ever like that...(Who exiles their 13 year's old son?) I believe it's an image that Peppermint created himself to help cope with the abuse.

I will admit, Lakritz is fine, he is an interesting & mysterious character. Reginald's route has me curious as well, will we find out why he picks on Peppermint? Probably not. But! I'm sure it will be an entertaining route. I love Candice as a female protagonist, Its so refreshing to see a female character stand up for herself! The dialogue was so much fun & I couldn't help but laugh 😊 Peppermint is such a darling! When he gives you chocolate coins & pats your head, my heart. (God, this man really is a prince.) I can't wait for his route, I just want to hold his hand, tell him no matter what happens..he'll be okay & that he is enough.

(One last thing, I swear!)

I saw a video from the visual novel corner it was about an early idea of Peppermint being a yandere? I do think it was for the better that it was scraped because he's perfect as is. 🩷

But part of me wonders what Peppermint would be like as a yandere in some alternate universe. (Good on paper, but I would literally cry if I got isekaied into a game with a yandere.😭) However, I can't get this thought out of my head. Would it start out how we originally met the kind caption? Once he develops feelings, what would he be cable of? Sorry about the long ramble...I just really want to know what he would be like.

Thank you for making such a wonderful game! I have always loved art and creative storytelling! This story was a delight & so immersive! (I just got Tumblr a few days ago, so I'm still trying to figure this out!) I got it because of passionate creators like you! Thank you so much for your time. I hope you & your team are doing well! 😊

Hey Anon! First of all, no need to apologize for the long message! I actually love receiving messages like yours, they give me an excuse to ramble LMAO. Before addressing what you wrote, I wanted to thank you for sending me your kind words and gratitude for the game. As a game developer, I often get lost in development and lose faith in myself, so receiving such kindhearted support from fans like you warms my soul, and helps not only rejuvenate me, but the team as well. So once again, thank you! I'm incredibly glad you love the main cast so far and that you were able to pick up on the nuances of their characters. Like you said, Peppermint is indeed a victim of abuse, so like many in his predicament who feel trapped, he excuses his abuser's behavior by creating a false reality for himself or using small remnants of the "good" King Karamel's done to show that he isn't all that bad. I'm sure you can guess what some of those morsels of good are though if not, they are talked about in his route! Like you said, it's all a way for him to cope. At such a young age, the only person's love he knew was Lakritz', and then he was exiled. All he had left was his cold-hearted father who could care less for him. Though, I'm sure with your help, you'll be able to remind him what love really looks like (platonic and romantic). Lakritz is definitely a mysterious character, though you'll find out more about him and his reason for wanting revenge on his route. I also want to flesh him out more in the common route in the revamped demo, since he didn't get as much screentime as his brother.

You'll actually get to know why Reginald picks on Peppermint! And trust me, Reginald's route will be an entertaining, sweet treat. ;)

Candice is such a fun protagonist to write, so I'm glad you enjoy her as well! I told the team from the jump I wanted her to be a strong character who isn't afraid to stand up against injustice.

YES, YANDERE PEPPERMINT! So, because the characters are heavily inspired by characters from Candyland (i.e. Mr. Mint -> Peppermint, Lord Licorice -> Lakritz), Peppermint was originally going to have an axe like Mr Mint and we played with the idea of that weapon being for more...sinister purposes. However, once we actually got to outlining and fleshing out these characters' backstories, the less sense it made for Peppermint to have this secret, dark and obsessive personality.

I can't say how your interactions with Peppermint would've played out if we went the yandere personality since we scrapped the idea early on in the writing process. HOWEVER, I will say that we joked about him handcuffing you somewhere in castle dungeon LMAO

Thank you AGAIN for the kind words, glad you love the story and the art! I hope you play the revamped demo and full release when they both launch soon!

[drac-onion]

Back at it again. A year since I posted Beneath Her Mask. Same thing as last time. Fun facts or just looking back at something I done did write once upon a time exactly a year ago.

This is going to be very "stream of consciousness" and probably hard to read, but here goes.

First off, wow that title sucks. I came up with it like right before posting and then rolled with it. Nowadays I would put off uploading something for MONTHS if I couldn't figure out an original and interesting title. Oops.

Anyway, this one is a lot better than the last one. Promise. The whole thing is a little bit iffy still, but I was very new. The formatting is the main issue I have with. The concept is...fine, although I think I could have gone a little bit further with and then lead into where this one starts. Ya know, inform the reader as to the situation that lead to Makoto's desire to keep everything to herself? But I kinda made it ambiguous on purpose. Good thing I didn't have to follow up on this a few months later... Oh wait. The stakes were just: awkward. No gay panic (like the tags say, oops), no internalized anything, no worries over team cohesion with members of the PTs dating, none of that. If I would ever go back and rewrite this (don't fucking tempt me) I would definitely expand on things a lot more. But hey, I probably shouldn't try and go back and fix all my old stuff. I'd never get anything done otherwise.

Oh yeah, Makoto's "113 decibel alarm clock" is a real thing. I actually have one. I sleep through every other alarm clock out there. The thing is so good, it will actually scare you awake. Pretty nice. (If probably a little too loud for apartment living in Japan where the walls are very thin.)

Oh yeah, and the tense a few times. Annoying.

I dunno why I made it three chapters. It's just over 3.5k words. That would have been fine to keep as a single chapter one-shot, but I think I just had a hard time with having scenes switch mid-chapter. Chapters are a good way to signal a scene switch, but nowadays I'll just use a line break and go with it. I've just improved as a writer, I think, and so now my old mistakes bug the shit out of me.

If I named all the issues I had, I'd be here all day. So, what did I get right with this? I think the concept is alright. The dialogue is good at points. The scene in Leblanc is pretty good. Good guy Sojiro being cool with lesbians (very cool of him). And the text convos at the end are also pretty okay. The "out of your league" comment still gets me for some reason. It's kinda funny.

Also I made a custom dialogue option for Akira, referencing the very first thing he says at the beginning of the story. I think it turned out okay. (I'd like to do more art/edits relevant to my writing. I've thought about making cover/chapter art for my current project. I guess we'll see how I'm feeling. A little wattpad-y of me, but it'd be interesting.)

I'm just now realizing that I should've made the "third option" a little cheeky. Maybe something like "Come here often?" or whatever. Ah well. Next time.

So, overall? It's an improvement. It's not perfect, but it was the second thing I'd ever written. (Once again, I don't count the RE one. I should probably anon it tbh.)

Anyway, that was something. The next "retrospective" (I guess that's what these are now) will be on Beneath Their Masks.

That one is a doozy, and I think I'm going to have a decent amount to say about it. It's also really long, so that's also a thing I'm gonna have to worry about. I'll probably do that on 10/1 because that's when I posted the first chapter. Maybe I'll have enough time to write up mini retrospectives for each chapter? And then post those throughout October? That could be interesting. And tiring. But still, interesting. I could pull the original upload dates since I made a tumblr in between ACIFT and BHM. Although those are going to be VERY spaced out, especially near the end. So much for doing a month's worth of prompts WITHIN the month. But I'll save all my whining for when those go up.

Also, shoutouts again to my beta at the time, @makomaki5. I hope you're doing well.

Anyway, I think that's about it. See ya.

[randomactsofpigeon]

Personal. Apparently I can't write until I get this off my chest so

My grandfather died a few weeks ago. We weren't close and it wasn't unexpected, though the final hours did come on a bit suddenly. He was my last living grandparent which feels a bit weird. My father--his son--is shattered, which is expected. I'm a bit angry at him though because when I saw my grandfather last summer, my dad completely monopolized him and I'm angry at myself too because I knew that would probably be my last opportunity to talk to him and I still let it happen. My dad doesn't have any emotional intelligence. Like I do love him but I've literally be in tears in front of him and not had him notice.

My dad's siblings are mainly assholes so somehow we're not having a funeral until June 17. I'd already promised my father we would go so I'm going, even though it feels...ridiculous, to wait that long. Apparently embalming will keep him fresh enough for two months which is horrific in its own right and reinforces my own desire for green burial but that's a whole other thing. My sister is backing out, who was going to be my sanity during all of this. My grandmother's funeral was an absolute shitshow and I'm concerned about that happening again. Exhibit A: My brother and his wife haven't told their 5-year-old that he died, and she's still talking like he's alive and ALSO attending a family event this weekend, where her five-year-old cousin is VERY AWARE he has passed and likewise talking about him often. That's not going to end badly or anything. Plus whenever my family gets together all of them talk about how they love their identical iphones and nespressos and blissfully child-centered lives and I'm just standing there like the odd thumb out like I've been since I was a kid. And my mom cries if I point out how much I always feel left out and like I don't belong in this family. But I'm not sure why she thinks I should feel any other way when, whenever I try to share any kind of relatable experience, everyone just pauses a moment to erase the contribution from their minds and changes the subject.

I'm totally burned out from this proposal at work that got dramatically sped up when we decided to partner with another company, so instead of the hybrid schedule I'm supposed to be working due to my depression I've been full-time in office, and having to mask...everything in a workplace takes so much energy it's unbelievable. I was looking forward to a break but my former coworker, who took over my work when I changed jobs, also had a death in his family and I'm literally the only other person who understands his work well enough to do it so I'm filling in. Surprise surprise his proposals are due on the 17th. When I'm in Mass for a funeral. Lovely.

One of my foster kittens, who is now 6 weeks old, is stubbornly not weaning. I don't even know what to do at this point. I've tried all the advice that's available online and offline.

I'm living in a shitshow of a house because work has me too burned out to keep up on anything. My plants are dying. I feel so effing useless.

And like I probably shouldn't put this one on tumblr because I don't want to be pathetic but like... I FINALLY got myself back together enough to start writing Lab again and hardly anyone is actually reading it. I got a bunch of welcome back comments on the first new chapter, which was nice, but like nobody came back to read it after. I got next to no comments on the second new chapter. And I don't blame people for feeling burned by the long gap or moving on or being in a different place where reading is not a priority. I really, truly don't. But it also fucking sucks. I thought I was passed this superficial crap as a writer but it has really knocked the wind out of my sails about something I was super excited about, even if I thought I was mentally prepared for it to happen.

I'm just so exhausted I want to cry and vomit. But I'm trying to start my big place exchange fic anyway because I don't want to go back to not writing again. It wasn't a good place to be.

I just feel like I'm failing literally everybody in my life right now, people, readers, pets, plants.

[sukajunin]

What I learned from a 17-day trip to Vietnam (+ feats of a long distance relationship)

Not too long ago (but actually what felt like a very long time in the relationship space-time continuum), my partner of almost a decade moved to the UK temporarily to undertake his Master’s degree. Meanwhile, I am currently living in Sydney, Australia. At almost the opposite ends of the world, I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope with such distance.

A wise poet that I came across on Tumblr (ah, the good old days) once said that souls have no concept of clocks or calendars. They just know how it feels right to be with one another. Ironically, all I could think about was time and distance. I spend a big chunk of my day just calculating what time it is where he is. Besides, this had been our fourth time at doing long distance. Although it’s the furthest in mileage, it has been - by far - the easiest of all them (there are varying reasons as to why, but that’s for another time). 

This time around, we knew we had to do something different. He would be gone for almost a whole year, and there was no way we wouldn’t see each other physically in that time. With flights resuming to its normal schedules (and with steep fare prices to match), we decided to meet each other halfway in Vietnam.

We had discussed visiting Vietnam before, but it was just that: talk. But then, when we found ourselves very much apart, trying to make sure we were able to hear each other over Facetime, Vietnam became more and more of a tangible idea. Within a week of talking about it (and discovering Discord was far more superior than Facetime for reliable connection), we booked our flights in early November for a Christmas/New Year trip. It was probably the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done. A holiday was the last thing on our minds - we were both going through some very new things in each of our lives at the time. But we just really, really, wanted to see each other. 

Then, on Boxing Day 2022 I found myself on one of the most beautiful approaches, arriving into Ho Chi Minh City. The plane banked left and right, almost as if it was following the river bends that coursed through the city. It felt like forever, being suspended maybe about 1000 feet high up in the air, gliding over blocks of orange-tinged-roofed houses and the vast rice paddy fields.

The immigration line was long, the lights were white but dim, and didn’t do any justice to making it welcoming. I’ll admit, it made me a bit nervous, but the airport was nothing like what the rest of the city was about to show me. Stepping out into the arrivals hall, I could feel the heat settle on my skin immediately. But coming from Sydney’s summer, it really wasn’t that much of a difference. My body wasn’t in a complete state of shock, but my mind was. From the moment I was outside, sounds and smells came at me from every angle - constant honking, people exclaiming, the smell of the hot pavement from the scorching sun. A far cry from the quiet, uneventful Sydney suburbs that I had just left. 

I walked towards the domestic arrivals, knowing that Axel would be arriving from Hanoi soon (he had to transit in the capital to meet me for our first leg of our trip). Conscious I was in a South East Asian country that I’ve never been to before, I constantly gripped my backpack to ensure that no one was going to try anything funny. It was like I was back in Jakarta again.

Axel was just about to land, so it would be another half an hour until he would come through the automatic doors of arrivals. I sat on the chairs, along with other people – local and foreign – waiting for either their family or friends to arrive. Funnily enough, I thought I would get stared at a lot, which is a strange anxiety of mine when I go back to Asia (also another story for another time). But that didn’t happen at all in Vietnam. Everyone minded their own business and I could wait for Axel without feeling self-conscious. 

In my few minutes of alone time, I found myself thinking about some horror stories that couples have when travelling together. Axel and I have been on flights together multiple times, and done domestic trips within Australia, but we’ve never actually travelled before. They say you’ll get to know your partner well from travelling together. When I could see him exiting the automatic doors of Arrivals, I stood up to greet him and I’ve never felt happiness like this before. My heart was here with me again and I knew that everything will be okay.

We found our hotel transfer and he took us to the car. He didn’t speak much English and we only pointed on the map as to where our hotel was. Axel was parched and his nose did bleed a little (sensitive boi), which happens when he experiences a drastic weather change. Coming from a wintry, 1-degree UK, the heat in Saigon was a warm welcome for him.

Checking into our room, I still felt like I was in a dream. Was I really with Axel right now, in Saigon, Vietnam, out of all the places we would meet? Never did I expect, nor did many others when I told them about our trip, that I would be in Vietnam over the Christmas holidays. We chose Vietnam 1) because it was almost half way between the both of us and 2) we’ve always loved Vietnamese food, culture, and it was affordable compared to the likes of other tourist-friendly Asian countries such as Japan or South Korea 3) we didn’t need any visas. But still, I thought we’d go somewhere a little more conventional for our first real overseas trip together. Regardless, in hindsight, I wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere else.

Our introduction to Saigon was straight up a literal bang. The hotel room’s window was vibrating from the heavy bass of the clubs right down below, and we were already 10 stories up. Dorothy, we were definitely not in Sydney anymore. Jetlagged, we ate dinner at 1am and we were indecisive on where to eat because everything was still open and kicking. This is what my father would say, a good problem to have. Ice cold beers that cost me a fraction of a gold coin back home were still on tap, fresh seafood still available well into the late night. My inner foodie was rejoicing - I was in heaven on earth. 

Ultimately, the trip became our love letter to our regional identity of South East Asia. We couldn’t help ourselves to compare the country with Indonesia – our birth country that we are very familiar with. The differences between the two were almost minimal, with the exception that Vietnam is still very much a communist country, but some parts of their culture reflected Indonesia’s. Of course, their food is completely different and in a good way in all the ways (I’m still dreaming of the food and the affordability of it all) and people’s attitude varied, as well. Traffic was similar in terms of the number of vehicles, and how motorbikes rule the roads, but there was a strange harmonious flow that was ubiquitous throughout the whole country. Cars understood bikes, and bikes understood pedestrians. And the cycle can go in reverse and everything just worked.

We went from Saigon and worked our way up to Hanoi by stopping in Hoi An and Hue in between. It’s incredible how different the cities were, yet we enjoyed every moment (except for when Axel got a stomach bug in Hanoi so bad that we had to miss our flight back to Saigon). I think we both agree that Hoi An was our favourite – with its Old Town charms, the sleepy beachside lifestyle (sleepy because we went during their ‘winter’) and all-round tranquillity. Hoi An does mean peaceful town after all, so it was no surprise we found it a nice change from the bustling city life of Saigon. In fact, we loved it so much that we were even considering to get married there…

Then Axel proposed to me on the morning we were leaving Vietnam. We talked about it beforehand and it would be upsetting for the both of us if we went our separate ways empty-handed. Of course not literally, as the trip was fulfilling in every way imaginable, but more about our relationship and where we stood.

It wasn’t a surprise proposal (I did sort of choose my ring after all!), nor was it one that my naive younger self had dreamt about, but if there’s one thing I learned from this trip was that the best things - the most memorable things - happen unplanned. Axel and I are no strangers to planning out our lives in almost the ten years we’ve been together but sometimes it gets tiresome to see your plans fall through. Maybe to feel better, we need to plan less and see where it takes us. It’s not that we expect disappointment, but if we just become more flexible about our future, then maybe we can appreciate our present more. So the fact that his proposal to me was planned sans roses or candles on the floor did not matter. The fact that we had no one photographing our moment did not matter. The fact that we just woke up, without having showered, did not matter. All that mattered was that we were both in the same room and that we loved each other and know we will love each other forever.

Because another thing I’ve learned about being physically apart from my partner is that you have to appreciate the now. When it came to parting ways on our last day, it was hard. From the moment I landed in HCMC, I already started thinking on how I was able to say goodbye to him. We just had the most incredible trip and then it’ll all be stripped off like a bandaid when I wave at a general direction to where I last saw him standing, waiting for me, as I walk past the gates? It stung a little to see couples that were also just ending their trip, head on shoulder, waiting to board the plane. Finishing up a holiday is hard, but doing it alone is even harder. I wasn’t going to have my partner next to me on the plane, to cry, laugh, and reminisce about our trip. When we land back home, I wasn’t going to have him there to help with the post-holiday blues. 

In long distance relationships, you can never get over how difficult the ‘see-you-laters’ are. No amount of time is actually enough, especially 17 days in a country you both loved. As much as your other half might annoy you at times, you can’t take each other for granted. But sometimes you still do because it’s hard not to at times, and then you end up kicking yourself up about it. Truth is, any time we have is limited, but it is especially tricky to have efficient time management when the other half of your heart is 16,973 kms away from you.

I think both Axel and I found a deep appreciation for Vietnam and ASEAN as a whole after this trip. Just how close we were to other countries (my connecting flight from Singapore to HCMC was only an hour) felt nice. It’s different when you live in Sydney and the closest other country, apart from New Zealand, is Indonesia, my original home, and that is already a seven-hour flight. It was fun - and advantageous - to be mistaken as locals a lot of the time we were in Vietnam. It made us want to plan more holidays around the ASEAN region, where our racially ambiguous looks can help get us by even more. The more I think about it, the more I believe that maybe Asia is where I’d like to be. Maybe not now, but maybe once Axel and I have figured out more about what our life goals are, we will find ourselves exactly where we started out.

We learned a lot being in Vietnam for 17 days. I specifically learned a lot about their war-ridden history, and I have Axel to thank for that with his binging of the docuseries when we had downtime in our hotels. We learned how to navigate in a country that we couldn’t speak the language of. We were able to do it because we had each other (and Google Translate). We learned how to travel together and weren’t we so lucky that we had an engagement at the end instead of realising how we are terrible travel partners?

It’s no doubt that Vietnam will always have a special place in both our hearts. Apart from the trip itself, we agreed to become each other’s forever homes while we were there. You would think that we would quit long distance after we endured the hardest round, when in fact it’s safe to say that we will never do it again after experiencing our easiest round. Regardless of the circumstances, we will find a way not to be apart. 

It’s hard to imagine that I was dragging my small carry-on suitcase out of my Sydney apartment and catching the train to the airport, about to embark on a journey that I would have no idea that I would have. That at that moment, when I was on the train, that I would come back with memories of cycling on the peaceful streets along An Bang and Cua Dai beach. Maybe it was good that I didn’t have extremely high expectations of Vietnam (we planned, but we didn’t plan meticulously) and it turned out to be one of the greatest adventures ever with my best friend and partner for life. Even a week later, I was still dreaming about it, thinking about it. I couldn’t even stop watching videos about it, I don’t even want to watch anything else. Axel told me that if I keep telling our trip to others it will feel more real and that it wasn’t all just a dream. But what if I don’t want to? What if I want to keep the magic alive in my mind? Besides, they wouldn’t know how it really was… 

“You weren’t there, man!!”

[thedawningofthehour]

To me it's less about the indecency and more about "aren't you guys cold? New York isn't that warm? Why are you putting your bare feet on the sidewalks that is disgusting this is New York, holy fuck you're going to step on a needle or piece of glass and get an infection."

(I don't remember if this bothered me in other TMNT iterations, but it may be related to the nightmares I started having a few years ago of going to work or an interview or something equally important and realizing I didn't have shoes on)

Why would they not at least wear pants?! I get that their shells make shirts difficult, but they should be fine from the waist down. I think they do wear pants in the Bay movies, probably one of the only good points about those movies. It really feels like at some point Splinter just got tired of Raph ripping out of the shirt Splinter had fished out of the garbage for him last week and just went "okay we don't wear clothes in this house. We also don't wear shoes because I don't know how to teach you how to tie them with only three fingers."

#I think Raph could pull off skinny jeans but only because all jeans would be skinny on him#I like the idea that; if Raph had grown up with Draxy; he would have his own personal tailor

LMAO. Raph is probably wearing straight boi basketball shorts-they just look like he's wearing spanx because of his thigh game.

If Draxum had raised them they'd have both really nice clothes and absolute rags to wear while playing/training/helping Dad in the lab. He's practical and he's not going to put toddlers in formal clothes just so their brother can rip them when they start wrestling. Maybe he holds off on the really nice clothes until they're a bit older, because they just outgrow clothes so fast, but once they're old enough to behave for a few hours he has super high quality hand-tailored outfits made for them.

Raph's clothes all have to be tailored to fit him anyway. His wardrobe costs so much more than everyone else's combined. (my cousin was actually like this, she's literally built like a supermodel-very tall, extremely thin, super long legs. no existing pants size would fit her so every pair of jeans she owned had to be professionally tailored and cost my aunt and uncle well over a hundred dollars each) Oh, and Leo would probably insist on wearing absolute trash in place of the nice clothes Draxum picked out. Drax gives up arguing with him about it (when you're a parent of four teenagers you have to pick your battles) and just takes pictures so he has proof of his driplessness to embarrass him with in the future.

(If Big Mama raised them they would have nothing but stuffy formal clothes. Professionally tailored Halloween costumes and shit)

#Damn 2020 feels so close still even tho it was 4 years ago#Tho#It makes sense for the hostile alien takeover to happen in 2020#like at this point people were waiting for it

Dude. There was literally a point in 2020 where I was scrolling Tumblr and came across a post that implied we'd made contact with intelligent alien life. I literally went "yeah that checks" and kept scrolling. That wasn't interesting enough for me to stop scrolling and open a new tab to fact-check it. Not only did I legitimately believed that it might be real and this was how I'd found out about it, I was so tired I just could not sum up the energy to care. 2020 was just Like That.

If anyone's ever distressed over the current situation in doth just remember that in the canon storyline, they're getting invaded by aliens right about now.

[beauty-and-passion]

I think I perfectly know what you’re talking about, so let me tell you some trivia.

When someone acts very defensive about something, in Italy we say that they have “la coda di paglia” (which can be translated as “they have a straw tail”). This saying comes from an old tale of a fox, whose tail was cut off by a trap. The animal was so ashamed, that its friends decided to give it a straw tail, so beautiful that anyone could never have suspected it was fake.

But one day a rooster let this secret slip away and once the peasants knew about the straw tail of the fox, they lit fires near the chicken coops, so that the fox could no longer steal their chickens anymore: straw catches fire very easily and so the fox was forced to stay away.

From this story comes the expression “having a straw tail”, which means fearing any kind of criticism for a behavior they are well aware of. If you have a straw tail, if you have bad behavior or did something wrong, you know it. And so, you act defensive to hide it.

Thomas is doing exactly that. He’s getting very defensive over simple questions, he’s making childish excuses in a desperate attempt to show how good he is, but all he’s doing is showing us he knows he’s in the wrong.

So here are the tweets you (probably) wanted me to talk about and yes, I will talk about them both (special thanks to @transfemlogan​​ who posted them on Tumblr first).

Those are both very recent tweets, but let’s start with the first one dated October 2022:

Okay, let’s recap everything Thomas did wrong here.

1) That person was not pressuring nor threatening him. They asked a simple, genuine question and they did it very politely and very calmly. This wasn’t an angry fan. And yet, Thomas went in full passive-aggressive mode, as if that person was insulting him. This is the best example of what “having a straw tail” means.

2) “Keeping people posted” means giving real updates, not a vague “working on the script” written months ago. It means telling people how much has been written, if he’s close to the end or not, how long he thinks it will take to reach the end, what his plans are, even if he’s just working on the actual script or not because he’s doing other stuff. Those are updates.

3) “Updating to the extent that I feel comfortable doing” is just a more convoluted way to say “I do not have any real update, so I am giving you crumbs, because this is all I have”. But he’s hiding it behind the excuse of “I’m taking care of myself”, which could’ve worked years ago, but after three years it’s not so convincing anymore.

4)  Pressuring someone to deliver content is not healthy nor productive, but if someone is clearly doing nothing, some pressure makes the work done. As a writer, I learned long ago that, if I want things to get done, I have to do them. I won’t enjoy the whole process and there will be times I don’t really want to do it, but it’s the only way to do stuff. You can’t wait forever for the inspiration to come because, flash news, it won’t magically fall from the sky.

And sure, taking care of yourself is important too, but using your well being as an excuse to always postpone is just laziness.

5) Since Mr. Sanders is thirty-three years old and not five, I think he is old enough to accept someone asking him what is going on with the season finale and not overreact like he did. I could understand if he was a teen, but when you’re 33 you’re old enough to deal with something as simple as a question.

Oh and since I’m here talking about this post and since Mr. Sanders didn’t do it, I would like to formally apologize to the person who wrote that question. You did nothing wrong, dear. Your question was valid and polite and I am sure that another, more mature person would’ve given you the proper reply you deserved.

And if any of you is curious, would you like to know what the real answer to that question was? “The season finale is not here at all, because I am barely working on the script. And I am barely working on the script, because I don’t know how to handle it. And I don’t know how to handle it, because I am not a writer - but I want to write it anyway”. Here’s your answer, you’re welcome.

Believe me, I hope to be proven wrong, but this is what I got from Thomas’ over-the-top reaction. And if any of you think I am too hard on him, then sorry again, but it pisses me off to see a grown-ass man whining like a child because someone just asked him something he doesn’t want to talk about.

And here is the second tweet, dated December 2022:

Not only this is another textbook example of what “having a guilty conscience” means, but Mr. Sanders’ reply is - if possible - even more childish: I work very very hard! See how hard I work? I am right and you are wrong! And If you keep saying these bad things, I will tell mom.

In addition to that, he wasn’t even clever enough to turn the topic away from him. That person said that his supporters got nothing in turn and are more excited than him? He could’ve said that this was offensive towards his supporters, because if they are trusting him it’s not because he’s forcing them to do it, but because they like what he’s doing and want him to create these things he’s passionate about. But nope, he was too butthurt and he clearly knew that person was right, so he overreacted like a child.

This also proves that, sadly, he doesn’t believe his supporters are following him out of trust or because they like everything he’s doing. He’s probably very aware that the reason most people are following him is Sanders Sides - and that puts him in a difficult situation.

Why? Because he’s not able to handle the series. And he's aware of it: he knows he’s taking too long with the script, he knows there are no real updates, he knows he has nothing to give. And yet, this series is his main income: there are people, merch, contracts. He can’t just drop or cancel it.

And so he keeps everything as vague as possible. If everything is vague, people will still trust him, they will think he’s working on the series and patiently wait for the next episode.

This can work with kids. But when kids grow up or teens grow tired, they start to rightfully ask questions. And if you don’t have answers, you end up replying like this - thus involuntarily showing how aware you are of your situation.

And now, let’s take Sanders Sides out for a moment, because this isn’t about the series, but about him.

This behavior is very, very disrespectful. Adults should be an example for younger people, they should be someone the next generation will look at and take inspiration from, to grow into even better adults. We can’t pretend kids are better than us, if we are not the first to show them how to be better.

Thomas isn’t just an adult, but a public figure, so he’s not just an example for his friends or relatives: he’s an example for a lot of people. He should show them what a proper, mature, adult reply is. What he did instead was attacking with a lot of passive-aggressiveness an innocent fan who just asked a question and a more sarcastic one, who just poked him.

Do you know what he could’ve done instead? Not reply at all. Or just grow a pair and reply like an adult. He could’ve thanked the first fan and said that, unfortunately, there are no real updates on Sanders Sides for now, because he’s working on other stuff - and added that he hopes they will like this stuff too. While to the second person, he could’ve said that people are following him for more than just Sanders Sides and that he’s sorry that person thinks he did nothing, because he worked on different things. Was it so hard to do?

This is not a good way to handle criticism. And I hope he will grow up a little: all he did now was showing us how long his straw tail is and how easily it catches fire.

[sirjuggles]

Worm Reading - Part 1, Insinuation 2.6

So I've heard the series Worm thrown around peripherally over the years but I've never sat down and read it. Lately some folks I follow on Tumblr have been talking about it more, and I do love me a good web serial (shoutout to Astielle and Velveteen Vs. and, uh... Tales of MU but we don't talk about that). With that in mind, I figure I'll dive in and share my experience reading Worm for the first time.

Up front, what I know about Worm before beginning: I know it's yet another take on the reality of a world where some people have superhuman powers. I know the initial main character has bug powers. I'm pretty sure that somewhere along the way there's a massive spike in power level, where we go from dealing with street fights to dealing with civilization-level threats. I think there's some investigation of how people get powers, and experiments with trying to give people powers (that, inevitably for the genre, probably go awry). I also think there might be some shenanigans with the focus of the story, like a primary viewpoint character dies or becomes someone else? I'm hazy on that part.

With that in mind, I began reading this morning. I'm currently up to Insinuation 2.6. I will admit it's a little bit of a struggle to not skim over the school bullying portions. I know this is a story written twelve years ago by an amateur author, but the initial descriptions of all the pretty popular girl bullies and the focus on what they wear and what their hair looks like is definitely the weakest part. Not that this isn't sadly a legitimate depiction of how awful high school can be for many people, but at least for me it's the least interesting thing to read about.

So far it seems that Taylor hasn't really fully thought through how reality on the streets might differ from the Good Superhero VS. Evil Supervillain narrative put out by an organization with a name like THE PROTECTORATE. We've gotten some interesting glimpses into the street-level struggle between gangs led by powered individuals, I'm a little fascinated by this idea of non-powered mooks as basically gang members who rally around a powered leader. I'm gonna slide right over the characterization of the gang led by Lung and chalk that one up 2011 being a different time.

I am SO INTRUIGED by the Undersiders. Specifically it has been established that they have a somewhat diverse mix of powers and have been able to take on or shake off any attempts at suppression from officially authorized teams.

Hellhound: Seems to be general muscle for the team. We have yet to actually speak to her, but I kinda like her? Seems like she looked after herself while homeless for many years, and I can't really begrudge her for being standoffish or abrasive.

Grue: "Darkness Generation" is such a vague power, but I suspect it could be very handy in battlefield control and breaking contact after a fight, which makes their crew substantially more slippery. Deeper implications to how this could be weaponized?

Regent: Vague hero name doesn't seem to indicate any particular power, I'm curious what his deal is.

Tattletale: I'm sorry, I've only known this character for five minutes and I already LOVE her. Her power seems to be information-related, something like she knows the answer to any question asked? If her power is anything like what I think it is, she is CRAZY powerful and is absolutely being underestimated by the narrative at the moment. Can't wait to find out what her deal is.

Only other character we've met so far has been Armsmaster. He seems... fine. Generic corporate superhero. Nifty iconic weapon, not clear what actual powers he might have. He seems nice enough, I was a little surprised that he didn't put more pressure on Taylor to get registered and go legit in their initial interaction. I did feel a brief pang of "oh god I'm old" when the clearly Responsible Adult-coded character is estimated to be about my age or younger.

I'm curious to meet this elusive "Boss" the Undersiders have mentioned, that seems to be a critical part to this story that I suspect will be a central part of which way this story goes. Onward from here!

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

[wickedstitchingworkshop]

I'M GOING TO OVERKILL THIS REBLOG THREAD AHAHAHA

My newer music preferences started forming about 2-3 years ago when I finished 9th grade and was on my way to highschool. Probably the brightest memory I have from that time is how my 9th to 10th graduation went. I will not go into detail, I’ll just say that after that summer everything changed dramatically, and this track keeps memories of old times.

DaveerCode - Solid Fruit

It's crazy how underground dubstep composers are so fire and still stay unrecognized. It feels so oldschool but with a glimpse into the future. I love your music, David.

////////////////////////////////

Well I kinda messed up the chronological order of this thing but I think it's important to tell about something that means "older" for me than how old it actually is. I remember hanging in discord with my friend. And he was like, "hey tpaz is releazing a new album, wanna listen it together".

t+pazolite - Messed Up Gravity

Man, this is the first track in the album and it just blew me away. It's so impudent, impactful, fast, despiteous and mysterious, it picks you up like a gravity storm and drags into tho unknown till the end. Weirdly placed vocal samples, hard beats all around, and moments of respite where music changes its pace completely. Fantastic work.

////////////////////////////////

The story of discovering this song is pretty similar to the previous one. Camellia releazed UUFO and we both were hyped af about this. We were hanging on lifestream like if we were on a grand stage, on a public concert. It's an unforgetable experience.

かめりあ [Camellia] - 大地の閾を探して [Looking for Edge of Ground] feat. 初音ミク[Hatsune Miku]

Dreams, don't end, wishing with a hope - I will reach the end of an infinite road If this world is eternal, wait for me to come back - it might be tens of thousands of years now - I'll bring my memories back... ...and I believe someday, I will stand on the edge of ground

ha ha the irony that it's a bonus track in this album and it goes the last one (27th exactly). I was too exhausted to fully understand the mightness of this song, I really got it in like a few days. Still my favorite vocaloid song. And also a main theme for my OC which I'm drawing right now.

////////////////////////////////

Okay, enough, some chill for you now. Do you know what is electroswing? It's a crazy amalgamation of music that was popular in America in "Roaring 20s" and electric music. It's a VERY niche genre and it won my heart.

TAPE FIVE - The Magic Slapstick

Very chill, very nice, it makes you move and sing and that's everything it takes! Gotta hit you with the only thing I've got

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The last one - the weirdest one. I know this one for a long ago and i don't have much to tell about it

garlagan - There

It's just so weird, so catchy, so bright, three or four, I wanna tell you, but I can't There are nice vocals, great synth, three or four, keep on dancing yeah, there garlagan is a genious, they make tracks really seldom but it's always something new, something innovative, something completely different. It feels great to end this post with this song, it deserves is.

since very little people i'm friends with have an active tumblr account i will have to pass this challenge only to @hordraomin and maybe uhh @derfisch-draws since we are kinda familiar huh

when you get this ask you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then send this ask to 10 of ur favourite followers :)

oooh difficult to pick just 5 but I'll do my best

Act My Age - 1D

Big Difference - Nicki Minaj

DLIBYH - Louis Tomlinson

The Show - Niall Horan

Needy - Ariana Grande

OH THAT'S SO FEW HELPPPP AH IM SO SORRY ALL THE SONGS I DIDNT PICK

also im too lazy to actually send this soooo tagging them:

SORRY I ONLY HAD TO PICK 10 I LOVE ALL OF YALL SM!

@surrowndedbylights @niallermybabe @ravenclawdirectioner @mickeywheeler @skeelly @annamiasworld @heartstopperlarrie @tiredflowercrown @enchantedlandcoffee @a-portal-to-nowhere

[chloeillustrates16]

How Levin is Related To Garroth

So, I've been on Aphmau Tumblr for a while; I loved Aphmau growing up in the early days of Youtube and how she shaped me as a person. You may not have to like her or support her but there is no denying that she's shaped all of us as people. In any case, I want to talk about something that's been bugging me for YEARS. And that's the Levin-Garroth debate.

For people who weren't around when Aphmau was uploading MCD, you might not understand. So, disclaimer if you haven't watched the original MCD series because there will be spoilers.

I and maybe others have been confused on why exactly Levin looks so much like Garroth. And that's not only to the fandom, in the actual canon of the series, everyone brings up the fact that Garroth and Levin's similiarities are uncanny. Levin even says in the second episode of season 2, "Everyone here says I look like Garroth, heh...I just hope that they don't expect me to live up to his reputation..."

So, within the series canon, everyone thinks that Levin looks like Garroth. So, what does that mean? Well, in season 2 episode 100, after Aphmau finds out that she's actually Irene. She says this, "Bloodline? Wait, does that mean that Levin is my great-great-grandson?" Which Hyria says,

"No, Irene was once a human many centuries ago, she had family, and she did a great job keeping them around her. Irene never had any kids of her own, but she did want children."

Irene never had children, which means we can rule out the theory that Irene and Esmund ended up together. But that first part, Irene had a family, which means, she had siblings and a mother and father. So, what does that say? Well, if we can dissect Irene's family tree, then that means that we can figure out how Garroth and Levin are related.

Most of this is my own canon, I won't give any names to characters that haven't been introduced. Most of the information that I'm saying are inspired of Jess's personal life, which she does in her own stories.

Irene's mother -- Irene's father (We can say that they were magic welders since that's the only explanation for Irene's gift. And as we know within the series, if you prefect your magic enough you can slow your own aging I.E. Hyria and Lucinda).

Then there's her brother, which isn't canon but for sake of story, let's say Irene has a brother. He has to also be a magic welder, because his parents are both; so, let's say he married a woman and ends up having a daughter.

Irene's niece, she ends up marrying into the Ro 'Meaves', centuries before O'Kahsis is born. In which she has a son,

Irene's great-nephew, he ends up marrying a woman. Who gives birth to...you guessed it. Garte. Who marries Zannah.

Which explains why Hyria and Zannah are so close; if Irene was still around when Irene's niece was born then she was around when Garte was born. Since Hyria and Irene were so close, I'm sure that her family knew about Hyria; considering her family as well.

Making them close by the time that Garroth, Zane, and Vlad were born.

Of course, this is all a fan theory and speculating. The reason why I had it to where Irene had a brother is because in IRL Jess has a half-brother.

So, what about Levin exactly? Well, remembered how I said that Irene's brother was married and had Irene's great-nephew? Well, he also had a daughter. Who ended up have a son; guess who that son was? The old lord of Pheonix Drop.

Phoenixes are supposed to represent rebirth, magic, renewal, and safety. Well, what does Aphmau do the moment she steps into that world? She's rebirthed, as a new person with magic and an instinct to protect people.

On top of all of that, it's canon that Gate and the Old Lord are magic welders; how else would Gate know magic? It's because Garte was born with it and taught Zannah how to use it along with Zane and Garroth.

Then what about Garroth? Doesn't that mean he's technically related to Irene? Well, yes. I know that probably sounds gross because Aphmau is technically supposed to be Irene herself. However, that's not how that works; when someone is reincarnated, that doesn't mean they're related to them. So, we're in the clear without any incest. (Thank God).

So, does that mean that Garroth and Levin are distant cousins? Yes, it's the only reason to explain why the two look so alike. Genes also play a big part in it as well.

Let's say, Irene's brother has the same auburn brown that she does. Then that means, he'd have to marry someone that carries the blue eye trait. To counter act the brown, Irene's family needs to be carrying the blue-eyed trait.

Then, both siblings have to be able to have the carrying trail. And since Irene's brother had both had daughter and a son, the daughter would carry the blue-eyed trait. Since the son ends up having another son, who ends up marrying someone who has blue eyes or carries it. Which passes it onto Levin.

On top of that, we already know that Garte has blue eyes which carried to both Zane and Garroth.

I know this was a lot to unpack in a single post, but this is the only way to explain why the two looked so similar. And not choke it up to ship bait. Which was probably the intention in the beginning. However, I'm sure that if Jess got to finish MCD Rebirth she would end up explaining it.

[tinyravenfeathers]

Ceremony! By TinyRavenFeathers, your celebrant and ministeroni

Dearly beloved, who are all descended from pirates, we are gathered here today (while wearing colanders on our heads to prove our faith) to join chronicoverachiever and hug-them-trees in the semi-realistic and 45% holy bonds of matrimony under the auspices of Great Big Meatballs Itself, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, may Its Noodly Appendages never whither in vain.

Chronic and Hug, you have come here today of your own free will and, in the presence of your narwhals and space coconuts, have declared your love of Charlie Cox and commitment to this ongoing joke that is now, like, a month old.

As you know in the Pastafarian religion, there’s a beer volcano in heaven.  And you know who else likes a beer volcano?  Matt Murdock! You cannot tell me that Josie's beer wouldn't make an awesome Beer Volcano! And Matt Murdock, who is played by Charlie Cox and coincidentally, was the subject of a gif I added to a comment about keeping one’s temper that…and here’s where it gets weird!  caused these two awesome people to plan this trading of pasta-rings or at least of pixels, would definitely approve.  If that’s not pirate-y enough for you, chomp on this:  Beer Volcano Matt Murdock.  Bam.  You see what I’m cooking here?  It’s like the Flying Spaghetti Monster dripped marinara all over this!

And that’s what tumblr and Pastafarianism is all about!  It’s the pure serotonin that happens when mutuals get on the same wavelength and keep a bit going for about 100 posts. I don't know if it's actually been 100, I wasn't keeping track. Do you think I type like this all the time? No! No one else will read this, especially that dude from 20 years ago that I had a crush on who insinuated he'd like to read my fanfic and I really hope he doesn't, because it's a mess. There's no way it's going to make a good impression on him. Seriously, just an absolutely directionless three-legged dog of me trying to find myself as a writer. I'm just writing it to make myself happy.

It limps along but you know the thing about dogs? They never feel sorry for themselves. We see a three-legged dog and go 'awwww, poor puppy!' and the dog is like 'hey, I'm still moving and doing my thing, everything's copasetic!' And likewise, no one else has to read my stupid and ill-conceived double-derived drivel. It's mary-sue-esque, half-insert fluff and smut (and thanks for the encouragement in that area @jenksel ! You will be my downfall. Much love!) that probably tells people way too much about me and I'm constantly 20 minutes from nuking my entire online presence from orbit. Kill it with fire!

And hey, speaking of killing things with fire, I really do want to go to Burning Man, where apparently there's a metric ton of skinny people throwing an art show and being wacky in the desert. That's enough for anyone who's ever enjoyed a sammich to eventually have an existential crisis. They ought to fly the Samaritans out there just for moral support and occasional free rub-downs with SPF 80+. And now please notice that this nefarious plan will put elderly British people in the middle of the Nevada desert; if the juxtaposition of Burner culture and Colonizer culture is not comedic gold waiting to happen, I'll eat my stylish pirate hat. I'm hoping for Are You Being Served? but with sunburn.

Seriously though, deserts are dangerous on all levels for humans, which is why most of ancient humanity spent a ton of energy on leaving the freaking desert.

But one thing my extensive research about Burning Man has turned up: You are responsible for your well-being. Eat the strawberries if a tiger is coming for you, babes. Write the words, dance in the moonlight, drink the mead, crush on the person you might have had a chance with, or the ones that will never know your name. Take responsibility for your own happiness.  Whatever you decide to do, the Flying Spaghetti Monster hopes you will maximize your well-being and the well-being of all sentient beings, on this, your 45% of a special day and every day.

Thus, by the powers vested in me by the interwebs, webber-netters, Charlie Cox although he doesn’t know it, Matt Murdock who knows it even less,  AskANinja, and the Flying Spaghetti Monster Itself, I now pronounce you person and other person and maybe Charlie Cox even though he's already married and Catholic to boot, we won't hold that against him. You may now trade pasta-rings if you got them, pixels if you don’t. The shoes and Cadbury eggs are for everybody.

Rock on. R'Amen!

-----

@chronicoverachiever @hug-them-trees

I'm scheduling this for as early as possible on August 13th so it will appear first thing on your dash. Right now it's 11 PM on the 12th for me, so I'm going to bed!

Much love,

Tiny

[1kook]

card swiped (4)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” GENRE romance (romcom?), eventual smut, teensy angst WARNING mentions of a hand job, talk of virginity OTHER college crushes, volleyball player!jk, student council president!oc, idiots to lovers, besties to lovers, childhood friends au RATING m (18+) bc brief sex ment WC 1.6k

NOTES (!) sorry for taking so long to update </3 school be kicking my ass. anyway here they are! an idiot couple. lmk what u think!!

[ masterlist ] 

In the past, whenever something had bothered you, the first person you ran to was Jungkook. Low grades, fights with your parents, boy drama— as your best friend and number one confidant, Jungkook was always your first choice. He was always willing to lend you a shoulder to cry on, even if that meant staining his white t-shirts with streaks of your mascara. He was always ready to go beat up a mean boy who had hurt your feelings during lunch, even if he’d miss his favorite special. And he was always down for some good old fashion i hate my parents ranting, even if he adored your parents. He was a great listener, an even better best friend, and had rightfully won you over from a very young age. 

That being said, how were you supposed to talk to Jungkook about something that bothered you when that something was him? 

You could easily tell any of your numerous girl friends, those of which would probably understand your predicament better than Jungkook or any man ever could. But after years of vehemently denying any notion of a romantic relationship between the two of you, you get the feeling your call for help will be met with more unimpressed glares than actual assistance. Besides, as much as you bring up Jungkook, none of them really know Jungkook to truly offer you any worthwhile advice. 

Your next option: Kim Taehyung. Now, Kim Taehyung held a similar background as Jungkook (translation: he also went to the same high school as you). He knows both you and Jungkook—frankly, more than you’d like him to—so he would be able to dissect the issue easily and offer trustworthy advice. The problem with Kim Taehyung, however, is that aside from knowing you at your embarrassingly dorky teenage prime, he doesn’t know how to keep a secret. Anything he knows, Jungkook knows. So if you were to, hypothetically, ask Taehyung for advice on Jungkook, well. Chances are, you’d probably get a rather confused text from Jungkook two minutes later. 

Which leaves you with one option— Park Jimin. There’s a reason Park Jimin isn’t your first option, and that reason presents itself now as you glare at him from across the empty room. For as long as you’ve been in university, Jimin has always lingered around the student council meetings, giving everyone he sees the prettiest, meanest stink-eye. You suspect it’s because he waits around for Min Yoongi, your Vice President (which isn’t an issue; Jungkook also frequents student council meetings while waiting for you), and doesn’t really care for anyone else. Your problem with Jimin doesn’t lie there but rather with the fact he’s adamant on taking up space and not lending so much as a finger to help. 

Today he is sitting with his feet on the table, dirty volleyball bag tossed on the floor. He’s watched you for the last fifteen minutes wrestle with the broken copy machine and hasn’t said a word since. He pretends he doesn’t see you struggling, because if he does, he’d be obligated to help you. 

To summarize, Park Jimin may be the fastest libero your university’s volleyball team has seen in years, but he’s a good-for-nothing bum everywhere else. 

And despite all that, he’s your best choice. There’s no one quite as blunt and honest as Park Jimin. There’s no one in this world who truly doesn’t care enough about anyone’s problems to gossip about them as Park Jimin. You plop down beside him, rumpled papers in hand. Without warning, you jump straight into it. “Jungkook is going to take my virginity,” you announce, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. If any of your fellow student council members heard you, you’re certain you’d shrivel up and die. 

Jimin hums. “That’s nice.” His eyes don’t leave his phone, thumb hovering over his screen. It’s a testament to how much he truly does not care. His extended silence plants a seed of doubt in you— was this the right person to tell? you begin to worry. But after a beat, Jimin’s thumb taps against his screen and he says, “Jungkook is a virgin.” 

You clench your jaw. “I know.” 

The thing about Jimin is, with the right wording, you can get him interested in something. Not interested enough to genuinely care, but interested enough to at least listen and offer his own piece of straightforward advice. His thumb comes to a standstill over his phone, eyes momentarily going blank. It’s a minute gesture, one that’s taken you four years of paying attention to catch. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. “Really,” Jimin sighs, back to, you now realize, playing CandyCrush on his phone. “You’re gonna let a virgin take your virginity.”

Not a question, but you nod anyway. “Yup.” 

There’s sweat building on the back of your neck, nerves at an all time high, but you’re trying to play it off. Just a little bit more and you know you’ll have caught him. Beside you, Jimin’s jaw twitches. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of trying to act calm, Jimin clicks his phone off and turns to you. He’s as intimidating as ever, ash blonde hair pushed back today to reveal his forehead and dark eyes. “You’ve known Jungkook was a virgin this whole time?” he asks, has this calculating look in his eyes that makes you feel like you’re being questioned by an officer of the law and not the shortest person on the volleyball team. 

With a practiced air of nonchalance, you shrug. “I have,” you confess, and it’s the truth. 

While you may have been initially fooled that night two years ago, you weren’t that oblivious. Oh, you knew clear as day that Jeon Jungkook was still a virgin, just as well as you knew that he religiously washed his sheets every weekend or that he had a specific color coded system for his underwear drawer. Jungkook was a fool to try and lie to you, not only because you had found out, but because you had found out that very next morning. 

It had been subtle. The night at the party, you had watched on with a throbbing heartache as some pretty girl led Jungkook up a set of stairs, had barely fought off a wave of emotion when he returned twenty minutes later, his hair a rumpled mess. “Did you… ?” you had mumbled, pressed closely against him by the back door. Your eyes had been glassy, from your emotions and from the drunken stupor you had gotten yourself into while he was away, wondering what he was doing. A sense of jealousy you would never admit to had curled around your heart. His hand had landed on your hip then. He smelled like flowers and vanilla, a smell unlike his own. Your heart clenched, hand mindlessly reaching up to cup his jaw, so drunk and heartbroken, you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing your fingers along his pretty cheekbones. 

Jungkook had graced you with a simple nod, and then, “do you wanna leave now?” 

You’d left, stumbling down Greek road on your way back to his dorm. Jungkook had held your hand the whole way, tucked you into his twin bed, and then promptly knocked out on the floor between his and Taehyung’s beds. The latter was nowhere to be found, wouldn’t appear until the next morning when he’d accidentally step on Jungkook’s ankle and wake both of you up. 

Jungkook had yelped, and your eyes had fluttered open. You remember debating rolling over, checking on him like you wanted to, but Taehyung was already there doing just that. So you had laid still instead, listened as the two boys clattered around the room. They chatted mindlessly, about the party and tomorrow’s practice. Taehyung had been bragging about some girl he’d slept with last night. “What about you?” he had asked, and your breath caught in your throat. “Did you and…”—a pause, the distinct ruffle of fabric—“finally?” 

“What— no,” Jungkook had said, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge beside you.

Taehyung pushed on with a snort. “Well, did you get lucky at all?”

Jungkook groaned, placed one warm hand on your back soothingly. You tried your best to level out your breathing, relaxed your facial expression as you clung to the sound of his voice. “Just a handjob. Some girl I didn’t even know. Does that count?” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, felt it beneath your fingertips when you fisted the sheets. 

And that curt admission sat in the back of your mind everyday for two years. 

You turn to Jimin. “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

Jimin lets out a low whistle. “You’re smarter than I thought,” he grins, this conniving little smile that is a genuine cause for concern. “So you’re letting him think you don’t know?” You nod. Jimin’s smile grows. “My, my. If I had known you were this evil, maybe we would’ve hung out more.” 

You roll your eyes. “I’m not evil,” you insist, flicking him on the nose. Jimin huffs indignantly. “I think what he’s doing is sweet…” you confess, feel your entire body heat up as you recall that wide-eyed look Jungkook had given you just yesterday afternoon, your kiss print fresh on his cheek. “And, well,” you look down at your shoes. “I used to dream about him being my first.” 

Jimin groans. “You two make me sick.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.