#but still! I was worried it’d be like a multi day project

[tj-crochets]

The first doll dress for my 18” doll! It still needs snaps but I’m going to wait to sew them on until the doll arrives, so that I can tweak the fit a little if needed

#sewing #handmade #doll clothes #1840s doll dress #tj makes doll clothes #(that’s my new tag for all the 18 inch tall doll stuff) #(1/12 scale doll stuff remains in the hypothetical dollhouse tag) #the pattern says it’s 1840s I’m not saying that #I absolutely cheated and used minky to make it way easier to make #I did not expect it to work up so quickly? #I mean it’ll take a lot longer when I make another one out of woven fabric #with all the ironing and finishing off edges and sewing a lining #(all things I did not do for this one) #but still! I was worried it’d be like a multi day project #not an afternoon project #this one only took and hour and a half to sew. that’s not counting the time for cutting out the fabric or sewing in the snaps #so it’ll probably be closer to two or two and a half hours total #but still! pretty quick!

[solomonish]

longtime listener (solomon x reader)

“Hi, uh, I’m a longtime listener, first time caller. Is it just me, or are we two halves of the same soul?”

It felt like the late night talk show was made for you specifically….and you know what? Maybe it was.

ao3 link: here!

3 a.m. It was 3 a.m. in this nowhere town of yours, the summer crickets screaming loud enough to become a steady thrum in the back of your mind. This insomniac routine had gone on long enough that your bedroom light was not off. You had gone past the empty attempts at counting sheep, spent countless hours relaxing your muscles from head to toe, everything. The orange bottle of melatonin mocked you each time you opened your medicine cabinet, half-full of pills that didn’t do a damn thing for you. Now, surrounded entirely by trees and the sounds of nature keeping you company, you had taken to merely entertaining yourself in the hours of the night when you should be asleep.

If idle hands bored you in the daylight, it was even worse at night. The cover of darkness seemed to bring with it a blanket over your mind, insulating your thoughts with slowly creeping dread and loneliness the longer you allowed yourself to stew. Scattered across your house were projects in varying degrees of completion: a crochet granny square half-completed, a needle still stuck in a loop lying on the small table beside your couch. Sad as it is, it is still better off than the elephant who’s box was opened and instructions spread out, but too indecipherable to a novice like you. On your desk lay scattered coloring book pages and paint-by-numbers, even an adhesive jewel coloring activity that was far too expensive for the one page, delivered by a man who’s baseball hat brim never revealed his face. It was the first unfamiliar face you had seen in a while, even though you technically hadn’t seen it at all.

A small stack of books that you tried to read stared at you from your dresser, begging you to open them again as if the words wouldn’t blur together immediately. Beside them sat your radio, an old thing that you hadn’t touched in years before your sleepless nights came to plague you. Most of the time, static veiled the music that you expected to be playing, even though you could catch slivers of familiar lyrics between the fuzzy noises. The only station you could seem to get was a talk show.

Unlike other radio shows you had heard, this one was uninterrupted by music or, like the other stations, static. There were no guests either, as all you ever heard was one voice. It was a calm voice with a playful lilt, neither too deep nor too high. To you, it was the kind of voice that seemed to pull you in a trance, as if it knew exactly which senses to numb until you were pliable to the way the sound crashed into you. If you hadn’t been having these sleepless bouts, you could probably fall asleep to his voice.

The topic of the show was lost on you. Sometimes, if you listened real close, you could hear the man talk about old urban legends or strange, magical creatures. Other times, he was murmuring about spells and recommending potion recipes. More often than not, though, you spent your time in a stupor, not listening to the yarns he was spinning. Instead, it was as if his voice pulled your spirit out of your body and led you down a path of memories lost to time.

Such an idea seemed scary, but...it was comforting, honestly, and maybe the little bit of rest you needed to prevent your body from crashing throughout the day.

With the voice in the backdrop, you found yourself going on wild adventures you felt like you lived but could not actually remember. Sometimes, you found yourself on the edge of a rocky outcrop on the coast, stormy clouds above warning you to turn away from the ocean as the ebb of the tide beckoned you closer. You could feel the salt in the wind brushing against your mist-soaked cheeks, your hair limp and wet but still blowing wildly around you. Others, you could feel the thick moss sink under your weight as you traipsed through a nameless bog, searching for a vivid, unnaturally colored mushroom you knew you had seen before but could not name. You could even see, on occasion, a dark land lit by multi-colored lanterns, a decrepit manor filled with seven rambunctious figures you thought you remembered fondly.

Then, just before the sun started to peer above the horizon, you were brought back to your body and the voice signed off, almost affectionately. The room around you, bathed in the light purple of an early dawn, almost seemed to shimmer until the sun broke the spell.

It was baffling, but you couldn’t exactly share the experience with anyone without them thinking that you were crazy. Besides, it all seemed too intimate to share, and the selfish part of you thought it’d be best to keep these moments tucked away.

As you settled in the swivel chair with the radio static in the background, aimlessly fiddling with the threads on your old shirt, you began to feel nerves bundling in your stomach. Though you couldn’t quite explain why, it seemed as if something was about to change. You eyed the radio nervously, listening to the static that would soon give way to the voice.

After a few more nerve-wracking moments, the static subsided and the relaxing, smooth voice started to poke through. There was no introduction music and he was starting to come through mid-sentence, but you already leaned back, convinced that whatever he was saying was true. The two of you were on the same wavelength, after all.

He droned on for longer than you remembered him taking, and you remain - frustratingly enough - with your body and painfully aware of the world around you. You can actually hear what he’s talking about - something about coincidences, fate, reincarnation - the stuff of a pre-teen branching into philosophical thought. You can feel your interest waning, and you even debate turning the channel and slipping back into your old attempts at falling asleep when he says something of interest.

“...and if it’s alright with you, I’ll open the line for any callers. I’ll wait for you. Whenever you’re ready.”

You froze. What? That wasn’t how this type of show was supposed to go. You had never heard him even speak about anybody else specifically, let along open up his world to anybody who was listening. The thought scared you in a weird way, the kind of fear that you were sure should only be felt in prehistoric times, an almost primal fear of invasion.

Reaching beside you, you grabbed your phone and dialed. You didn’t remember him saying the number to call, but you already knew it. You must have, because before you know it, you’re bringing the phone up to your ear.

For just a moment, as the phone in your ear rings but nothing changes on the radio.Like a child whose schoolyard crush just rejected them, you feel like a fool - until you hear a click, and the voice that greets you matches the one you’ve been listening to for endless nights.

Your voice doesn’t come through on the radio, a fact that both relieves and confuses you. Faintly, you can tell that your heart rate has picked up and your breathing has gotten shallower. The nerves from a few minutes ago pick up again. Gracelessly, you manage to stammer out a nervous, “H-hi…” while your brain catches up with the rest of your body.

“Hello, MC,” he responds, his smooth voice erasing all the bumps in your own introduction. You wonder how he knows your name, but decide to focus on how nice it sounds on his tongue. “What is it that you wish to learn tonight?”

That you’re talking to me. Me, and only me, is what your brain wants to say. Istead, your eyes dart around the room for a less...needy response. “I, uh- gosh, this is embarrassing, but I don’t think I caught your name.”

He hummed. You couldn’t tell if you were hearing his voice over the radio or the phone, but you could only hear him once - the rest of the world had been turned down to silence. “Perhaps you haven’t, in this life.”

In this life. For a moment, you swore you could see a familiar smirk in the darkest corner of your mind, one slim finger pressed against sly lips in a gesture to keep your secrets to yourself. Your face felt warmer than it had ever been, but your chest felt hollow, like you were grasping vaguely for something just out of reach.

“I didn’t mean to forget, Solomon.” The name felt right leaving your mouth, and now that you had said it, you wanted to repeat it over and over. On the other end of the line, Solomon seemed as pleased as you did.

“As long as you remember now.”

Honestly, what were you to say to that? Simply talking, really talking to Solomon had your breath robbed from your lungs. If you looked down, you could see your hands shaking, and you worried your voice might start trembling if you spoke too soon. The longer you let the silence linger, the colder you felt inside, an empty chill filling the space where something you briefly realized was torn from you should be. Whatever it was, talking to Solomon thawed you out, and you feared hanging up on him now would freeze you solid.

So you swallowed thickly and hesitantly spoke. “Do you ever dream about the ocean, Solomon?” You just wanted to say his name again.

“Who says those are dreams? Maybe they’re memories.” And surely he was right, because there was no way a simple dream could leave such a potent taste of salt in your mouth.

The way he spoke to you felt so familiar, almost safe and welcoming. Even if your conversation was only just beginning, you had the distinct sensation that you were picking up where you left off with an old companion, falling into an easy rhythm you used to find solace in. At the same time, you couldn’t shake the fact that you knew nothing about Solomon, and that this phone call was telling you that tonight was his last broadcast.

“Do you have memories of the ocean?” Your voice was breathy, and you had to catch yourself just before reciting his name a third time. What was your fascination with it? Perhaps you were trying to call out to him, to keep his attention on you. Maybe you were hoping to summon him back to you. You supposed it didn’t matter in the end, anyway.

“Yes. Not all of them are fond, though. Some parts are.”

You could practically see the way his mouth turned down at the corners, a practiced display of displeasure. He always managed to express himself without giving away too much information - he was the type of person where you knew he was upset, but you could never begin to fathom why. That’s what everyone else thought, but you were the exception. You could watch his face fall and know what he was thinking. You would be the one to lift his spirits again, once upon a time. That, you remembered. Could you ever forget?

The silence that stretched between you didn’t feel like something that needed filled. It was a language all its own, a space where you could hear the other speak without anything being said. This, you realized, is what it felt like to be so perfectly in tune with someone, to understand them completely, better than you knew yourself.

But how could you know Solomon so intimately when this was your first time speaking to him?

No...no, it wasn’t. You’ve known Solomon for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Which memories are fond?”

He didn’t answer the question. He didn’t need to. He was thinking of you in lifetimes you just learned had already come to pass.

“Are you still on air?” You asked, your voice soft and uneven. As if awaiting horrible, surprising news, you brought your free hand to your mouth and bated your breath. The world around you had come to a standstill as you awaited his answer - even turning yourself mindlessly in your chair seemed wrong, but you couldn’t force yourself to reach out with your foot and stop.

The chuckle you received was rich, velvety, and it sounded much closer and clearer than a man talking to you through a phone. “Who’s to say I was ever on air to begin with?”

Your face warmed, and you gasped. Despite the ominous words, something in your chest told you that you could trust him, that this was meant to be. All at once, the sounds of the world came back to you. The crickets were chirping, the katydids screaming, frogs calling out to one another in their summer song. From a distance away, a sudden low rumble sounded as something made impact with the ground, sending a light shockwave that shook the old branches above you and sent exhilarating chills down your spine. A shocking cloud of purple light, glimmering like all the stars in the galaxy came down to visit you, caught your attention through your window. You should be scared. You really should be, but you weren’t. You felt like the late-night bus just arrived to take you home.

Once you were out of your trance, you brought the phone back to your ear. The line had been quiet since you started asking your questions, but you could tell Solomon was still there. You didn’t need to tell him that you were back - he already knew.

“Why…?” You had no idea what you were asking about, but you did so with a hint of anticipation in your voice. This was the moment you had been waiting for all your life, but you only just realized you’d been waiting. His answer made your heart flip the way it used to.

“I was merely looking for you, my love.”

#solomon x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me solomon #solomon #solomon fics #solomon fluff #mine

[cherryblossomtease]

So I took a little break from working on new stuff and finally got around to finishing something that has been bothering me for a while. I needed to go back and re-work the first half of my first Zemo multi-chapter fic and somehow I managed to find the time to get it done!

It’s not perfect but I’m so pleased to have gotten it much closer to the story I always imagined it could be. If you’re up for a romantic, smutty, sometimes violent, emotional Baron Zemo adventure with a kind hearted, foul mouthed female oc with big hair and good aim, well… here ya go!

Came For the Low - Chapter 2 excerpt

Warnings- explicit sexual content and violence 18+only Full archive warnings can be found through the link as well as authors notes.

Chapters- 28

Summary- Christine Vargas was one vial away from becoming a Flag Smasher until Baron Zemo crushed her chances, only to offer her the world instead...his world. True love comes at a dangerous price, but it's one she's willing to pay if it means another day with the Baron.

(This scene takes place at a club in Ibiza at night. Zemo has a reason for bringing her here that she is unaware of)

Keep looking, but I'm with him, she thought as she smiled down at a man who looked like he should be sitting at a CEO's desk and not in the middle of a gender fluid harem. The man winked at her and she laughed, quickly catching up with Zemo.

Their booth was too big for two people but wasn't that the point of being ostentatious.

A server was waiting and Christine waved hello as they approached, realizing she hadn't really stopped smiling since they got out of his car.

It was all so obnoxiously indulgent. Every inch of the place, of this entire island, felt so completely absurd. How do people live like this while others are dying and being displaced—tossed aside like trash?

No. No. She wouldn't think of that. Not now.

Tonight she would just submit to being spoiled and happy without so much as another thought for the pathetic state of the world. She deserved one damn night.

"Would you like a drink?" Zemo asked, but it took a moment for her to answer. He’d brushed her hair from her shoulders, gliding his fingertips down the center of her back until he pressed his hand to the place where her spine curved the deepest. His lips brushed her ear when he spoke.

All she could do was give a nod and shut her eyes as he kissed her temple before letting her go.

Zemo turned away and Christine watched him make the server laugh. The poor girl even blushed as he ordered. Fortunately she’d never been bothered by the curse of jealousy in fact she loved watching him charm other people. Maybe because it made her own feelings seem a little less foolish.

God— it’d only been a month.

She stepped back crossing her arms at the wrists, watching with a look of worry, not because the girl was now batting her lashes at him, but because in moments like this Christine could step outside of herself and see just how quickly her world with him seemed to move.

He’d been her enemy just a few weeks ago. She still knew what it felt like to point a gun at him and now she stood there trying not to look lovesick and give in to the little spasms of pleasure that flexed between her legs any time she thought back to just two nights ago. Their first time together— She could see him in the bath so vividly; the water on his skin, his wet hair nearly black and slicked back away from his face. She could feel his chest under her hands and how the muscle of his shoulders and arms moved as he did, how his hands felt on her hips, his fingers gripping too tight. She could still feel him so hard inside of her— Just the sound of his voice tossed her back into the moment, gripping her heart and her body.

Baron Fucking Zemo.

#baron zemo fanfiction #zemo fanfic #zemo #baron zemo #helmut Zemo #zemo smut #zemo romance #zemo adventure #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #zemo fatws #zemo x oc #original character #multichapter #just wait #they in to win it #fr fr tho #swoon

[spaceorphan18]

Author Spotlight: Kuhlaine Day 3

Author: @kuhlaine

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

It depends! My first draft is always just a rough 'get the words on the page' type of draft. If it's un-beta'd, I'll transfer the rough draft to a new document and do a fresh pass through the following day to fine tune, then work on formatting and do one last pass through for spelling errors after giving myself a break from looking at the material. If it's a beta'd project, I'll go through and start adding my comments/concerns and shoot them off to my beta. Once we've worked through all of theirs and my comments I do one last pass through for any last minute changes and I'm good to post! 

tldr: two and a half-ish drafts for un-beta'd works, closer to four drafts for beta'd projects!

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

I'd revise Cross the Line, which was the first fic I ever posted! I took a 9 month hiatus before posting the last chapter (which I'm so, SO sorry about, I promise I won't do it again), and I always worried that it felt like there was a distinct shift in the tone of the story once I posted that final chapter months later. I'd want to do a proper outline for that fic and draw out the last few chapters a little more. I had originally wanted things to go down slightly differently, but I felt like it was too late to scrap that draft when I was already months behind posting my latest chapter.

What do you look for in a beta?

I've been working with my beta, Adri, for my past two multi-chapter fics and my next WIP, and honestly I'd say I'd look for someone like her, as shameless as that is to say! She's amazing - none of my work would be what it is without her guidance and influence on the writing process.

Usually, my greatest concern with my work is that the logic is always sound. Sometimes things that make sense to me don't make sense to someone else - likewise, I created these characters, and I control their thoughts and actions. Sometimes I may know why they chose to act a certain way, but the reader might not - so having someone who's able to call things like that out, for clarity and context, is SUPER helpful! A great memory is also amazing because I have a bad habit of forgetting some of the more minute details in my fics (and also forgetting that Adam exists).

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Oh gosh, that's so tough... I feel like most of my favorite fics end in really wonderfully fitting ways. I think it'd be fun to take a crack at a Little Numbers sequel - the fic is absolutely astounding on its own, so this would just be a shameless chance to get to try out writing in that very unique format.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I definitely take liberties! I like to weave in nods to canon throughout my fics just for fun, and because they make for intriguing plots when put into a new setting/context, but I'm really not one for canon compliance - since I'm not a huge fan of some of the details in canon.

Talk about a review that made your day.

Lots of reviews make my day! I'm very easy to please, honestly. If you say you like it, it makes my heart swell. 

One review that particularly stuck with me was someone who said it had been years since they'd read a newer fic, and had taken a chance on one of my fics. When I first rejoined the fandom I was definitely hesitant to read newer works, and wanted to stick with the classic fics that I knew and loved at first - knowing that someone took a chance on me as an author who was very late, and very new, to the fandom really meant a lot to me!

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

Not really! This is a wonderfully supportive community and I've never gotten anything but kind and lovely comments.

I'd like to think that if I got a negative review I'd leave it be and forget about it - but realistically I'd probably obsess about it for a long time, forget about it for years, then it'll come back to me in the middle of the night years later.

As for critique/constructive feedback - I welcome it! My writing is critiqued/workshopped pretty much every day at work, so it's something I'm always very open and welcome to hearing!

What advice do you have for people just starting to write?

Don't be discouraged if the kudos/comments are slow to start! When I first started posting fic, it took me quite a bit to start getting kudos/comments, but I kept going because I had this thing I really wanted to write, and figured I might as well share it regardless of whether anyone was reading, because I knew I was going to write it either way. I posted (somewhat) consistently, and eventually readers started to come along! 

And write what YOU want to write! Don't write something that you're not passionate/excited about or that you feel like you /have/ to write, it'll just make the writing process unnecessarily difficult for you.

Which fic do you most like to discuss with other people? Why?

I'll talk about The Sidhe to anyone who will listen - it's one of my favorite fics of all time.

As for my own fic, I don't talk about many of them very often to others! I'm generally very vague when talking about my non-work-related writing to my friends. Though, I'm adapting Even Then, Especially Now into an original work, so that's the only project I've talked about a little more explicitly with them.

What's one aspect of writing fic that gets you really excited?

Creating worlds! I don't write fantasy or sci-fi, but I think you still do a great deal of world building with any story - you're creating characters and friend groups and social constructs and settings. I love those first few chapters when you're really setting the scene, introducing your cast of characters and what their world is like and how they operate. 

I also LOVE finally getting to the climatic point in a story and just writing my heart out! It's the moment I've been waiting for as a writer, and usually the moment the reader will have been waiting for, and it's so exciting to do all this building and just dive right in to this insane, emotional, rollercoaster of a moment.

***

Check out Kuhlaine’s Fics

The First of Many -  Kurt Hummel is overworked, exhausted, and desperately needs a drink. Or two. Blaine Anderson is underpaid, heartbroken, and dreading the thought of heading home for the holidays. When the two meet at neighboring bachelor/ette parties in Las Vegas, they wake up with more than just hangovers - a sky high room service bill, and a pair of wedding rings.

My Personal Hell -  Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson have never been able to get along, much less stand to be in the same room alone for more than 10 minutes. When their petty rivalry causes them to miss their bus back home to Lima after a glee club competition in Middle of Nowhere, Illinois, they'll have to do more than just spend 10 minutes alone together.

You've Got Kudos! -  In which Blaine gets tipsy and posts fanfiction about himself and Kurt on Archive of Our Own.

#author spotlight: kuhlaine

[mintchocolatechipnut]

kirishima's wedding

Note: This is for my sunshine boy, he deserves all the love in the world and what better way to show that through headcanons for his and his s/o’s wedding? I was inspired mainly by flash mobs and wedding dances, in particular this one, so here you go!

Tags: pure fluff, dancing, Kirishima is a sentimental man, I was projecting a little too much on this

Word count: 2.0k

To be honest, it isn’t that Kirishima isn’t interested in his own wedding

It’s more like he’s interested in marrying you

And at this point, when you’ve already given him the green light when you said yes to his proposal, he really couldn’t ask for more

So he’s actually pretty content with letting you pick out most things

His being one of the top 10 heroes (see: big bonuses) is just an added perk that he’s grateful for

You want that dress you saw in that top-grade wedding magazine? Sure. You want a multi-cuisine buffet for your reception? Go for it.

Boy’s honestly just really ecstatic that you’ve agreed to marry him

Though, if you did want input from him, just say the word and he’ll offer his ideas

He wants the best for you, but if you’re adamant on wanting this wedding to be a two-person thing, he has no qualms against that

However, it’s just that his schedule doesn’t really allow for all-day wedding planning—people still need saving, reports still need to be made, it ain’t the honeymoon yet, sweetheart!

But he’ll do his best to contribute in whatever ways he can, be it the direct planning or supporting you from the sidelines by attending wedding dress sessions with you, or checking out the venues you have in mind

Heck, he even makes sure you’re eating three full meals a day when you lose track of time planning

Meanwhile, people at work have been congratulating Kirishima for becoming an engaged man

And with so many warm-hearted regards, not just from his co-workers, but even his fans (Red Riot has the best fans ever), it’s hard not to stop him from looking forward to his own wedding even more

So from then on he finds little breaks in his routine so he can help you out

His favorite part about the entire process, though, was learning your first dance

You’d asked him if he was up for learning a fun little routine as your first dance during your wedding

Now Kirishima isn’t a great dancer by any means, but he is eager to please, so he said yes quite readily

Only when he saw the video did he blanch a little

He’d thought it’d be a sweet sensual waltz that wasn’t too hard to learn (based off what he heard from others), but you’d instead chosen a fast-paced, twisty sort of dance

What was it called again? Lindy hop? Swing? He’s not sure, but the song is catchy and cheesy enough for him to tap his foot to

But oh no. He can’t dance, he thinks. This is going to take a while

And it did. You enrolled the help of Mina, who graciously extended an offer to teach you an improvised routine for the likes of you and Kirishima despite her own busy schedule

Mina’s a strict teacher. Kirishima doesn’t know why he has never thought that before. Probably because he hadn’t danced under her tutelage during the cultural festival, but whatever

She pushes him to the limit, making sure he isn’t stiff with his movements, and to coordinate with you on timing and movements

The first class is a little of a disaster though. You end up stepping on each other’s toes a lot, and Kirishima feels unnatural and awkward as he dances

This wasn’t on his resume! He’s not cut out for this kind of agile, flexible movement. In fact, all he has to do sometimes during his hero work is stay in place as a shield. He doesn’t have it in him to twist and jive like you and Mina!

You can see that Kirishima is a little discouraged, and suggest a break

Kirishima’s quiet for those few minutes, staring down at his toes and flexing them, wondering if he can ever really do this right

It’s not like you don’t notice, but Mina is busy teaching you how to improve your own steps

When he sees you dance all on your own though, a surge of pride wells up in Kirishima because you’re doing your best even though this isn’t your territory

But you’d wanted to do it, and here you were putting your back into it

And—technically he wanted to do it too, right? Since he’d agreed.

Kirishima then realises that he hasn’t been giving this his all, considering he never thought it was in his nature, or part of his expertise, to do this

But there’s always a first time, right?

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a grinning Kirishima, holding two thumbs-up to say ‘Let’s go!’

After that practice goes a lot more smoothly, with Kirishima finally getting the rhythm in his veins and you two even having successfully danced through the first verse on just memory

When you get home, Kirishima’s so eager to get it right all over again that you have to tell him to tone it down because you yourself are aching all over from Mina’s spartan training

You begin having weekly sessions with Mina, always practicing in between when the both of you have the time, because it’s not like it’s the same when you practice on your own individually

And Kirishima realises he likes doing this with you, taking big new steps together out of your comfort zones, to do something different

Just like how you were soon to be taking a whole new big step into the future as husband and wife

And suddenly all these private dance sessions with you he brings a little closer to his heart

For one he’s never one to pass up the chance to practice with you, and what’s more, he thoroughly enjoys himself when he twirls you around the room and see the endless joy in your tired, satisfied smile at the end of it

Pretty soon he’s wanting to make sure that you put on the best performance for wedding day

He’s even resorted to bopping and doo-wopping in his office sometimes, even when Bakugou comes around for work things

In which he snorts and tells Kirishima he’s acting like a total idiot and should get off cloud 9 real quick, or else he’s gonna make him

But Kirishima really can’t bring himself to care, because he just knows that he’s going to make you proud on that day with his moves

When the day finally rolls around (or perhaps a few days earlier), Kirishima’s getting the wedding jitters

To which he copes with going out with his friends from high school, and to which Kaminari and Sero decide to hold a stag party for him

Just him and the boys, after so long

He has a great time of course, and forgets about his worries for a little while, but when he comes home and noticed you’ve gone to sleep without him, he’s brought back to thinking about the day you’ll finally sleep in the same bed as husband and wife

And there he goes again

It takes a good nag from Bakugou that ‘you don’t need to worry about a thing, Shitty Hair, or else she’ll be embarrassed for you’ for him to regain his spirits

It’s really not that he doesn’t want to marry you, but his insecurities, having just found an outlet in you, have resurfaced once more to plague him with the idea that he doesn’t deserve you

But maybe it’s precisely because he doesn’t deserve you that he’s got to do everything he can to make you happy, so you don’t regret this choice you made with him

Wedding day finally arrives, and Kirishima’s got the nerves again

But the good kind this time

You can have his hair done however you like, but I like to headcanon that he wears it down in its natural state, with half of it done up in a ponytail like how Aizawa occasionally wears it. It’s a tribute to how he’d shed his old self to be a new version of Crimson Riot, with the vibrant red hair, but also not forgetting his roots and origins

He waits nervously at the altar, where Bakugou crosses his arms impatiently to his side (because of course Bakugou is his best man)

He sees all the guests you’ve invited: pro heroes, mutual friends, your own colleagues, and of course, your families

Not to mention some of the press are lingering outside the venue in order to get some photos in for the news of Red Riot tying the knot

And he’s terrified and thrilled at the same time by the prospect that the two of you will be joining together as one in front of so many witnesses

When you finally walk toward him in a dress as radiant as your smile, Kirishima sheds a few tears

He definitely cries. He can’t help it! When you take his outstretched, trembling hand and stand next to him, you decide to tease him a little

You whisper, “What? Already can’t handle the prospect of marrying me? Are you going to break it off?”

“No!” His outburst is loud enough for the people in the front pews (namely your families) to hear, which startles you, but when you turn to face each other, both of your hands held in his, he leans forward and whispers, ‘No. I’m never going to let you go from now on.’

‘Come on Eiji, we haven’t even said the vows yet.’ But he can’t stop the tears, and it takes a few embarrassing yet endearing moments for you to calm him down and proceed with the ceremony

In the end, your first kiss as husband and wife at the altar is, as he tells the boys later, ‘indescribable’

There are just so many feelings running through him when he kisses you that he’s tempted to cry again

But the cheers all around you remind him this is a joyous occasion to be celebrated, and Mr and Mrs. Kirishima make a run down the aisle while petals are being thrown and congratulations echoing around them

It finally comes down to the first dance, and Kirishima’s got adrenaline pumping through his veins even before the music starts

He’d had a few glasses of champagne earlier to calm his nerves but the alcohol hasn’t been kicking in and it’s almost time—

He feels a hand clutch his and the moment he looks at you, all inhibitions fade

He’s ready to kill it on that dance floor with you

Needless to say, the dance goes superb and gets rave reviews from the guests, if the whoops and the whistles are anything to go by

By the end of it everyone is up and dancing and Kirishima just can’t keep the beaming smile off his face

The second time Kirishima cries is when he’s dancing with you to a ballad, as he holds you close to him, feeling every inch of your body against his and having your wonderful, beautiful self so close

You notice the silent tears dripping down his face and place a hand to his cheek, ‘What’s wrong, Ei?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. That’s just it. Everything’s so right in this moment that I feel I’ll never experience this ever again.’ And since he’s not so sober at the moment, he blurts out the whole of what he’s really thinking. ‘I just think about how I got here, with you, and I don’t know if I’ve unknowingly traded all my life’s happiness away for this one day.”

He waits for the usual pep talk you always give him when he tells you he doesn’t deserve you or any of this, or a ‘don’t be silly’ kind of logical dismissal he might expect from Bakugou, but you look him in the eye, and through his blurry vision your smile is still as bright as it was on the day you first met

‘Well, even if you’re forever sad from now on, I know I can only feel eternal happiness after this. So I’ll be nice and share some of that happiness with you, because we’re one now.’

This time the tears really come pouring lmao

Everyone mocks him for being such a crybaby afterwards but all Kirishima can think of is now that he’s given you his last name, he’s going to continue giving you all the happiness in the world

#bnha x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

[feathersandphantoms]

I started writing this before I’d seen that people were tagging Walter x Lance as Walance, but didn’t want to change my idea so I just went with it anyway. Also, I didn’t mean for this to be over 1.8k, woops. So most of it is under the cut.

Operation: Launch the Ship

Walter’s stomach grumbles hungrily as he approaches the break room. He’s thankful it is already noon, because he is super hungry after working all morning on his latest project. He’s about to walk into the break room, when he hears his name spoken from inside. It catches his attention and he stops walking, standing just outside the open doorway. He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but no one should be foolish enough to gossip in a shared office space if their conversation was not meant to be overheard. So, he listens in.

He can barely hear Eyes and Ears arguing over the whir of the microwave.

“It should be Walster! It makes more sense because Lance usually goes by Sterling.” Ears argues.

“But you can’t just combine first and last names! That’s like against the rules!” Eyes says defiantly.

“There are no rules!”

“Well, there should be! Then you’d see, it should be Wance. It concisely combines their two first names. It’s perfect.”

“That’s terrible! It sounds like a child talking. I say it should be Walster.”

“Come on, you know Wance is a better ship name. You’re just too stubborn to admit it!”

Walter cringes. Neither Walster or Wance are ideal. And, he realizes with a sigh, if they’re talking ship names for him and Lance, they’ve probably been gossiping about their relationship, too.

Walter and Lance have been dating for three months. While they haven’t kept it a secret, they have tried to keep their personal lives as separate from their work at the agency as possible. They’re professionals and don’t want their relationship to interfere with the important work they’ve been doing in their newly founded branch of the agency.

Walter waits for a break in Eyes and Ears’ conversation before wandering into the break room nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just overheard their heated discussion. He grabs his lunch bag from the fridge and decides it’d be better to eat at his desk, where he can wallow about the lamentable options available for his ship names in private.

After Walter rushes through his lunch, he tries to focus on his work to take his mind off the office gossip. He is currently developing a Version 2.0 of his multi-pen. His first multi-pen tool has been a hit with field agents, as it is so easy to hide the gadget in plain sight. The new model will come with advanced safety features and four new functions. It’s nearly finished, with just a few more adjustments needed to the Bubble Blaster setting before he sends it to the prototype lab for testing.

But even his excitement over the improved multi-pen isn’t enough of a distraction from the terrible ship names that Ears and Eyes had debated. By the end of the day, he feels a heavy grey cloud of disappointment hanging over him that even a dose of Kitty Glitter can’t cut through. Hoping that a low key night in with Lance will improve his mood, he rushes to pack his pens and notebooks into his bag before heading home.

Coming home does not improve his mood. He still is in a strop about the ship names as he empties the dishwasher and prepares dinner. He’s unusually quiet as they eat.

“Is everything alright, Walt?” Lance

“Yeah. Just some stuff at work bothering me.” Walter brushes off his concern. It’s just a silly nickname, why does he even care? Lance probably wouldn’t care.

“Alright. But, you know, I’m here if you want to talk. Or if you need me to blow someone up.” Walter flinches and Lance quickly tacks on, “With non-violent glitter bombs, of course.”

Luckily, Lance seems to drop the subject, turning the conversation to the flight training he did with Lovey and Marcy. Lance describes how Marcy ended up in the trash can while practicing a loop-di-loop maneuver and it has Walter in stitches, bad mood nearly forgotten.

After dinner, they settle in, such a quiet night together watching tv and talking about their days. He curls into Lance’s side, resting his head on Lance’s broad shoulder and is ready to forget about all the stresses from his workday. Until Lance finds a rerun of a Star Trek episode, which brings back all the same worries about the state of their ship name. As the episode plays on, his disdain for the proposed ship names his coworkers had created returns. He sighs deeply as Kirk and Spock interact. Spirk is a great ship name, short and catchy and not infantile. Not like Wance or Walster.

“Okay, what’s up.” Lance turns, jostling Walter from his position, forcing Walter to sit up and look at him.

“Nothing.” He deflects.

“Don’t “nothing” me. You’ve been weird since I got home. Did I do something?”

“No, of course not. You didn’t do anything. I just overheard something at the office. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine if it upsets you. Who do I need to fight?” He puffs his chest up protectively.

“No one, calm down.” Walter pats his chest, then smooths a crease in his shirt down as he adds, “It’s not even a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then you can tell me.” Lance pesters.

“It’s just that I overheard Eyes and Ears talking about our ship name. I don’t know why I’m upset. It’s so embarrassing.” Walter covers his face with his hands.

“Ship name? Are you building a ship in the lab?” Lance gets overly excited.

“No not a ship- ship. Like a relationship.”

Lance looks so confused, like he’d never heard that term before. “Oh, you’ve never heard of shipping!” Walter laughs at the realization. His boyfriend’s ineptitude for understanding pop culture is enough humor to raise his spirits a bit. Of all the things his smart, strong spy boyfriend can do, from catching the bad guy to turning into a literal bird, he’s still completely clueless when it comes to pop culture.

“Why are you laughing?” Lance pouts. He never likes to be the butt of jokes that he doesn’t understand.

Walter just laughs harder. It reminds him of the night he had to explain to Lance how memes worked. But eventually, he catches his breath and explains, “Shipping is when someone thinks two or more people should be in a relationship.”

Lance’s brows furrow. “We /are/ in a relationship.”

“Let me finish. A ship name is usually a combination of the people’s names, like a shorthand way to reference them. Like Star Trek,” Walter points at the television. “Lots of people think Spock and Kirk are in a relationship, so they call them Spirk.”

“Spirk,” Lance repeats skeptically.

“Yeah. So, like, I overheard Eyes and Ears arguing about it today and I realized that we don’t have a good ship name.”

Lance has a blank look on his face, like something isn’t quite making sense. Walter knew he wouldn’t understand why it upset Walter. “Never mind. I told you it was silly.”

“No, no. It’s not silly if it’s important to you. I’m just trying to figure it out. So, it’s like a code name?”

“Kinda?”

“Well, what’d they come up with? It can’t be that bad.”

“Walster and Wance.”

Lance grimaces. “Oh, those are bad.”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you just make up one that you like?” Lance asks.

“I can’t just make up our own ship name!” Walter throws up his hands in frustration. “There’s like rules against that! It’s a name bestowed upon the couple.”

“Oh.” Lance falls silent. The characters on the tv screen fill the silence between them. Walter doesn’t know what’s happening on screen and doesn’t even attempt to focus on the episode, mind still stuck on his own personal travesty. If only he could hint at it, or get someone else to use a better ship name.

That’s it! Walter sits upright, eyes widening as the perfect solution comes to mind. “We could do it!”

“Do what?” Lance asks.

“Create our own ship name.”

“But you just said you couldn’t.”

“But, what if they didn’t know we’d picked our own? We are spies, we should be able to infiltrate the gossip network at the office and implant a better ship name without anyone finding out.”

Lance is still skeptical, his eyebrows raising as he tries to catch up to Walter’s thoughts.

“Come on, it’s a win-win. We can pick a name we like, and no one will know it was you that did it.”

“Do you even have a name picked out?”

“Well, I was thinking Beckling. You know, like Beckett and Sterling. It’s short and catchy. And cute!”

Lance rolls his eyes subtly. He can’t say that he loves that choice, but he is endeared by his boyfriend’s enthusiasm. And though he may not understand ships, he can tell this nickname means something to Walter. After weighing a few pros and cons, he comes to a decision.

“I guess.” Lance reluctantly acquiesces.

“Alright!” Walter pumps his fist in the air excitedly. “Operation: Launch the Ship is on! But, we’ll have to work fast before one of those awful names sticks.”

Walter quickly withdraws a notebook and an ink multi-pen from his work bag, eager to plan a fun mini-mission with Lance. It’ll be sorta like when they first met, just the two of them working together. “Let’s begin!” He clicks on the purple ink button with gusto!

The purple button, however, does not activate his favorite purple ballpoint. Instead it launches a stream of bubbles from the tip of the multi-pen. Walter watches in horror as the activated Bubble Blaster quickly fills the living room with a sea of foam. He must have accidentally brought home the unfinished multi-pen 2.0 instead of his favorite multi-pen. Unfortunately, as he was still tinkering with the design, there was no way to shut off the Bubble Blaster until the multi-pen ran out of ammo.

Finally, the multi-pen finally fizzles out and the last sudsy drops spill out of the end. Walter’s cheeks flame red, embarrassed to have accidentally brought another of his unfinished inventions into Lance’s house. It’d been two weeks since the last incident, and Walter had promised to be more careful. He is afraid of how Lance will react to this latest mishap.

“Walter… are the bubbles part of the operation?” Lance asks, tone unreadable.

“No…” Walter turns back to Lance, hoping that he isn’t too angry. Instead of anger, he is surprised to find the most adoring look on Lance’s face. “But they could be, if I can fix the multi-pen 2.0 in time.”

“I hope so. I think the bubbles could come in handy.” Lance says. Then he leans in and wipes a bit of foam from Walter’s cheek with his thumb.

There’s never a dull moment with Beckling. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.

#spies in disguise #walance #beckling #walter x lance #walter beckett #lance sterling

[crackspines]

Not a Good Fit

Summary: A couple months after Bruce adopts Jason, the boy has his first class trip to Wayne Enterprises, the last place Jason wants to go. The new Robin is convinced that while Batman may need him, Bruce Wayne needs the embarrassment of a street-rat son like he needs a hole in the head. To Jason's horror, Bruce shows up for the tour.

Jason Todd, twelve-year-old street rat, robin, and Gotham Academy student, kicked at the ground with each step towards the sleek Charter Bus, scuffing the Wayne’s expensive shoes against uncracked cement. He knew he should probably be a little nicer to the shoes Alfred bought him; they probably cost more than rent at his old apartment. But he wasn’t feeling too charitable towards the shoes that didn’t feel like his or Alfred at the moment.

“Can’t I skip today?” Jason had asked this morning, a hint of whine entering his voice. “Just this once. I could help you with the roses.”

Jason didn’t give a shit about the roses. They were a snobby, rich person flower.

“The roses will still be here when you get back from your quality education, Master Jason,” the older man had said, shrewd eyes boring into the newest addition to the manor. “You wouldn’t want to miss your class school trip.”

Once on the lavish bus, Jason raced to the back where there was one single-seat instead of the duos throughout the rest of the vehicle. He sunk into the buttery leather, pulling a library book from his bag immediately. He didn’t want any of these rich brats to get the idea that he wanted to talk to him.

He shouldn’t have worried. Just like every day since he joined the school last month, the Gotham Academy kids were more interested in talking about him than talking to him. A couple of girls a couple rows ahead of him glanced his way and then turned back to each other in a fit of giggles. He felt like he should be charging admission to see the poor kid in captivity.

“Okay, class,” Mrs. Epstein said from the front of the bus over the chattering students. “We’ll be pulling up to the front of Wayne Enterprises in twenty minutes. I’ll need everyone to get off the bus quickly and line up in single file. Let’s not block traffic.”

Twenty minutes flew by, and Jason spent the entire time reading the same paragraph over and over again. By the time the bus stopped, he still didn’t know what sentences were trying to say.

As his classmates flowed off the bus, staring up at the sleek, sky-high expanse of WE, Jason’s heart-rate sped up. His palms were damp, and he rubbed them furiously against his ironed khaki pants.

This was ridiculous. He jumped off building routinely, tangled with the worst Gotham had to offer. A trip to WE with his class shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar.

Besides, the likelihood of running into Bruce was slim to none. His office wasn’t anywhere near Research & Development.

The WE tour guide didn’t give Bruce Wayne’s newest charity cases a second glance, and Jason wished he could say the same of his classmates. The deeper they got into the building, the more classmates he caught stealing glances at him, mouths turned up at the sides.

Digging his hands deeper into his pockets, Jason tried to appear very interested in the shoes he hated. Despite his training as Robin, he couldn’t manage to keep a slight flush out of his cheek, which just confirmed what all the kids were thinking: he didn’t belong here.

The class walked into the R&D lab, suitably impressed by the sprawling space and all the futuristic tech littering the room. The ceilings went up at least thirty feet, though Jason, still staring down, couldn’t appreciate that.

“Hello,” a terrifyingly familiar voice said. “You must be Mrs. Epstein.”

Jason stiffened so quickly, he felt a twinge in his ribs from where Killer Croc had thrown him against a brick wall last week. This wasn’t happening. He would’ve fought Alfred tooth and nail if he thought there was even the smallest chance Bruce would show up.

What the hell was he doing here?

Suddenly, staring at his shoes wasn’t just to avoid his classmates; it was survival. If he looked up, he’d have to see the expression on Bruce’s face, and he really couldn’t bear it.

There was a reason in the two months since Bruce had adopted him, he hadn’t taken Jason to WE or showed up at Gotham Academy. Batman might need a Robin with the Dick Wonder gone, but Bruce Wayne didn’t need some kid from Crime Alley bringing down stock values.

Dick fit in Bruce’s life; Jason didn’t fit anywhere anymore.

“--know you were going to make an appearance, Mr. Wayne,” Mrs. Epstein said, delighted.

Bruce, clad in a multi-thousand dollar suit, walked over to Jason’s side, ruffling his hair before throwing a large, comforting arm around the boy. Jason had to look up then, searching Bruce’s face while he answered the teacher.

“It’s been a busy couple of months, Karen,” Bruce said easily. “This is actually Jason’s first trip to WE. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He turned to look at Jason then, smiling broadly and not moving his arm, even under the scrutiny of Jason’s high-society classmates. As hard as Jason looked, pulling on all of his Robin training, he couldn’t find any embarrassment, anger, or regret in Bruce’s face.

“How about a VIP tour, kids?” Bruce asked, nodding over to one of WE’s new projects: stealth flying technology that would make everything else on the market obsolete.

The students, despite themselves, moved over to the futuristic drone with unconcealed interest. Bruce, however, brought their attention back to him with his next words.

“Jason knows just as much about this project as I do.” Turning to his newly adopted son, he said, “Why don’t you tell your classmates about what we’re working on here?”

Everyone’s attention turned to the boy, and a sweat broke out on the back of his neck. Unlike before, the gazes weren’t smug or malicious, though quite a few of them were shocked by this turn of events.

Taking a deep breath, Jason started to talk about stealth technology. He was a little awkward at first, halting and tripping over his words. But once he got into it, he realized Bruce was right. He did know a lot about this project and a few more at R&D.

He took his classmates around, introducing the ones he was familiar with. At the end of the tour, he finally looked up at Bruce, who hadn’t left his side the whole time. The older man was practically beaming, and he squeezed Jason’s shoulder. The move left the boy with a funny, warm sensation he couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt before.

After signing him out with Mrs. Epstein, Bruce turned to his son while the other kids piled on the bus. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up for your field trip.”

Jason scuffed his shoes lightly against the ground, the movement no longer angry and anxious. “It’s fine.”

“Why don’t we stop at that Chinese place you showed me on the way home?” Bruce said as they headed towards the parking complex. “It’s growing on me.”

“I can’t believe you’d never had it before,” the boy said. “Best in Gotham.”

“I guess it’s a good thing my kid is such a takeout connoisseur,” Bruce said with a laugh.

Jason had to smile at that, the warm feeling from earlier taking over his whole body.

And for the first time in what felt like years, Jason felt like maybe he could belong in Bruce’s life. Maybe it’d just take a little more time for the fit to feel right.

Like this? Read more of my stuff here.

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic writing #batman #robin #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #angst #batfam #fluff #batfam fanfiction

[rirururu]

I want to tackle a more serious multi-chapter TanZen / ZenTan fanfic some time soon. I miss being able to actually develop them through a continuum of events and tying all the plot points together at the end. It’s not that I’m out of steam but I think people are losing interest in this project too ((´д｀)) I might have to either cancel or put the prompt challenge on hold. Let's see what happens. What do you guys think?

Click here for ao3 version or go to “Keep Reading.”

It’s only been eight hours and fourty-nine minutes since Tanjirou Kamado and Zenitsu Agatsuma officially became a couple.

And Zenitsu is already sure that he can’t take much more of this.

Waking up with the chirping birds like he always did, Zenitsu crawled out of his futon in the direction away from his snoring boar friend and made to fold it against the wall. Noticing the spot on the other side of him empty, the only conclusion was that Tanjirou must’ve started his day even sooner.

Looking for his (boy)friend- oh my god, that’s what he was now, wasn’t it- Zenitsu padded out of the room with yawn. He found his target leaning over a bowl in intense concentration. The thrumming drums of nervousness radiated from him in waves. The only thing that snapped him out of it was the sound of the sliding door gently slamming shut.

The effect was immediate. Tanjirou turned, face brightening like the sun. A warm blush colours his tan cheeks pink. Nerves almost completely disappeared. “Zenitsu, g-good morning!”

The blond covered his eyes with a sleeve. His heart was already racing at the sight. “Ugh, too bright… You’re too bright at this time of day, Tanjirou!”

The sun breather only laughed. And for the life of him, Zenitsu couldn’t understand why he looked so delighted to get such a snippy response. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, not when the other suddenly stood up from his seat. Zenitsu didn’t have the mental power to react. Rounding towards him, Tanjirou wastes no time landing a kiss with the sound of spring on the blond’s cheek. “I made breakfast for you.”

Zenitsu flushes red. His skin buzzes like a bee covered in pollen where gentle lips touched. “Y-You…!” The lack of shame from the other seriously annoyed him! Zenitsu declares but he’s dragged to the table, swaying left and right as a decidedly warm happiness bursts near his chest. He may have giggled, swooned a bit and he’s sure if he were a painting, there’d be hearts emitting from his ears. But he doesn’t care.

Especially not when he finally sees what the fuss was about. Sitting innocently on top of the simple rice dish is an egg, sunny-side up and in the shape of a heart.

A heart…!

“Tanjirou, what’s going on?! My organs feel like they’re going to explode out of my mouth. Is this a disease? Is it fatal? Th-THAT’S IT! I’m dying! You’ve killed me…!”

“Don’t die, Zenitsu!” Despite the dire situation, Tanjirou is smiling. That bastard…! But ah, he can hear now that the ocean of nerves in his spine was subsiding as a calm peace replaced it. Maybe, perhaps, there was that very small chance that Tanjirou actually really cared what Zenitsu thought of his work?

The sentiment burns his eyes wet. He wheezes.

“IT’S TOO LATE.” Zenitsu clutches his stomach dramatically. “I thought I’d leave this world after having my brain giblets guzzled out and my limbs sliced to bits. I thought it’d be less depressing than this. BUT MY true end is THIS-! You’ve killed me with second-hand embarrassment, you fool!”

“That’s a weird way of saying love.”

“ARGH…!” Zenitsu covers his red face with his palms. It’s too much. Tanjirou was so impossible! His heartbeat runs a marathon in his ears, blood rushing, yet the kind sound of a flute and a crystal stream still embracing him is as clear as ever. Suddenly, he feels the light brush of fingers in his hair, and that stream reflects a rainbow.

Tanjirou hummed. His eyes never leave his boyfriend, taking in the tinge of teary golden orbs peeking from between shaking fingers. Yellow locks are still tussled wayward from sleep. It fluffs adorably between his own rough fingers. The cherry blossoms colouring his face contrast nicely, bringing out the image before him nearly as much as the scent of home. His mouth runs away from him, powered purely by his desire to have Zenitsu all to himself. “You’re so cute. I love you.”

Silence.

Finally realizing the weight of the statement, Tanjirou withdrew himself with a horrified squeak and red cheeks.

“Really? That’s what makes you realize how EMBARASSING you’re being?!” He whines. “TAN-JI-ROU…!”

That’s when Zenitsu officially decided that he couldn’t take anymore of this. Tanjirou was too much for him.

But maybe that was just fine.

(he loves him too)

-U-U-U-U-U-

It’s only been two weeks, five days, seventeen hours, and eleven minutes since Tanjirou Kamado and Zenitsu Agatsuma officially became a couple.

And Tanjirou is already sure that he can’t take much more of this.

He just returned to headquarters, haori tattered and blade vibrating with intense aftereffect. Some part of his brain still thinks he’s in battle. Bloodied, surrounded by the corpses of innocent children all under the age of twelve, his mission did not end well. No matter how long he works as a demon slayer, no matter what he sees, he can never stomach the sick feeling of being the only one to come out of it alive.

He was too late.

“Tanjirou.”

He stops merely two meters from the entrance. On the stone steps stood Zenitsu, out of breath as if he ran there at the sound of him. If the next sentence out of this beautiful person that Tanjirou loved so much was any indication, he had. “You’re sad.”

Tanjirou can tell immediately from the frustrated scent of the other that Zenitsu was likely reprimanding himself for the insensitive statement. Of course he’s sad, he imagined the blond internally screaming. He couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of despair in his being but if it was anything like the scent of rotting flesh and crushed dreams, Tanjirou knew he must’ve sounded bad.

So he tries to smile anyway to reassure. “Yeah. It’s okay though-”

“It’s not okay. Don’t say that.” Zenitsu frowns. He holds out a worried hand, the own bandage wrapped around his yellow head seeming like a paper cut in comparison to the wound in his boyfriend’s spirit. The other doesn’t hesitate to take it. It’s fascinating to Tanjirou just how affected Zenitsu was by the tone in his voice. “There’s no way you’re okay.”

Despite the context, Tanjirou finds himself blurting out. “What do I sound like?”

Zenitsu takes pause at this. Their fingers intertwined, the blond squeezes them with a wistful smile. “Like red poppies.”

“That’s-” Tanjirou gasps out. It’s such a strange phenomenon. It’s almost as if the admission itself was enough to break the dam. The anguished memories, that he tried so hard to shove down, return. “That’s beautiful, Zenitsu.”

“Oi, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Stop holding back. Cry, scream, whatever… it’s okay to be sad.”

“I can’t. I- I’m sorry.” Tanjirou didn’t know how. Ever since the first time it happened, ever since he first walked in to a house full of dead bodies, he’s found it so difficult to truly be angry or depressed about it. There was no time. He had to save Nezuko. He had to help all the suffering humans and demons. The world didn’t have time for Tanjirou to be sad.

“Hey,” Zenitsu snaps his fingers in front of him with his free hand. When hazy amber eyes follow the motion in surprise, he sighs. “Follow me.”

Tanjirou isn’t sure what to expect when he hears that. His wounds were already treated and healing. His sword wasn’t broken. His report was already sent ahead of time on the Kasuga crow. There wasn’t much else left to do but answer to any lingering questions from the higher-ups and maybe rest. About the last thing he could anticipate is Zenitsu ripping out a wooden instrument from beneath a cloth. Its head was long, its body delicate yet the blond held it with a confidence that Tanjirou knew he had when handling a blade.

It’s mesmerizing. Since when did Zenitsu know how to play an instrument? So when the boy motions him to sit on the grass, his own seat on the platform overlooking the garden occupied, Tanjirou obeys without protest. He waits, attention dispersed somewhere between how peaceful his boyfriend looked and the practiced gracefulness of pale fingers on the string.

Sure enough, the first note that rings almost has Tanjirou weeping.

It’s sad. It’s such a sad song. Children rapt with confusion over why their parents were unmoving, hands reaching out in silent plea for help before the life fades from lively eyes, the crushing sense of helplessness when he digs them out from beneath furniture. Rushing them into the outside, they’re gone before he even has a chance to lay them on the grass. The demon was dead but at what cost?

It was then that Tanjirou realized that Zenitsu succeeded. He was sad. The music guided him here and now it was hard to breathe. There was a crushing weight of something horribly foul on his heart. It was awful. Why did anyone want to stay like this all the time?

Before Tanjirou can bury himself in the utter gloom that the melody brought him, the tune lightens. It was quiet, chilling before, but now it strengthens in volume and nearly consumes the entire yard. The notes stumble in rhythm as if tripping but getting back up over and over. And maybe, just maybe, the pungent mass in his chest lessens.

When it’s over, Zenitsu finally opens his eyes. He looks down at Tanjirou but the other teen is frozen almost still. Amber eyes stared at him in awe. It was like Zenitsu held all the stars within his fingertips and Tanjirou just couldn’t help wanting more. He notices the blond flushing, not sure how to read his look. “Y-You asked me what you sounded like right now. That was it.”

“Can-” Zenitsu flinches when he hears just how choked Tanjirou’s voice sounds. “Can I have a hug?”

Even with all of the embarrassment in the world to stop him, Zenitsu wouldn’t deny him. Tanjirou knew that. The nod only confirms it. He’s on him in mere moments, practically pouncing on the yellow-clad body as he buried his face in the older boy’s shoulder. Then with all barriers down, Tanjirou cries.

The only thing that anchors him is the sweet scent of citrus and the hand holding his own.

That’s when Tanjirou officially decided that he couldn’t take anymore of this. Zenitsu was too much.

And he loves him so, so much for that.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #agatsuma zenitsu #kamado tanjirou #zentan #tanzen #otp prompts #don't make fun of me ;-; #and my obscure ships #my stuff #fanfic

[undercoverwizardninjaturtle]

BatDad and Turtle Sons One-Shot

Summary: A crossover au between Batman and TMNT to see what I think it’d be like if Batman was the Turtles Dad

Word Count: 4040

Pairing: None (unless you count Leo and angst)

Rating: T (for blood and mild mild violence)

Life is strange, but the path we choose is even stranger

 Leo clung his leg to his chest, hissing in pain. Managing to bounce around on one foot for a few moments before falling. He could feel the muscles in his leg spasming between his fingers as he cursed his own body.   He wa so wrapped up in cursing his body that he almost didn’t the arm that wrapped around his shoulder. “Breath Leo, you need to stretch your leg to prevent straining.”

 “I know Dad.” HE did as his father commanded, and though his breath came out shaky at first, the more he stretched out his leg the easier it became to breath. He gave a weak sigh, “Sorry father.” Before looking to the man holding him up. No one in their right mind would ever accuse ‘Bruce Wayne’ of stereotypical ‘dad bod’. For a man in his late forties he was still in excelled shape, and if it hadn’t been for the slight grey tinges in his hair no one would have thought he had changed at all.  Bruce moved around to get a better look at his leg, rolling up the pants leg of his sweatpants and looking over the muscles with a father’s eye, “You’ll be alright son, you should just rest for the rest of the night.’

 The blue masked turtle gave out a sigh that almost sounded like a death gasp, “But we barely got started.” Course, the sympathetic smile his father was giving him only added to his shame,

“Just for the night, Alfred can look at it and we’ll go from there.” Bruce moved under his arm, lifting him up. With his support Leo was able to balance on one foot and move out of the rumpus room.

 For the past ten years, the citizens of Gotham had been curious at the ongoings at Wayne Manor, mostly on why, no matter the time of day, was the Manor always lit up? But Most of the citizens, the one who didn’t think it was full of vampires, would shrug of their own curiosity and mutter ‘rich people’ and shuffle on their way

 And the very answer was the turtle being helped of the small rumpus room by his father. The seventeen year old Leo was the same height as his father but lacked the build Bruce Wayne had. But dressed in dark blue athleisure wear. Another spasm shot through his leg, despite himself and his already brewing shame he can’t stop himself from hissing. Praying it hadn’t been overheard by Bruce.

 But very few things passed his fathers notice. Even the slightest hitch of breath, Bruce immediately turned to him, looking around and taking one of the hallway chairs and puling it closer, “Sit.”

“Dad its=” but choked off as his leg spasmed again. Leo reluctantly sat back down as Bruce looked over his leg again, “Look its really fine- “

 “Leo, you once broke your foot and didn’t say a word for week about It. If this pain is enough to make you make a noise, then it’s no small thing.’” Bruce held Leos’ calf between his legs, kneading the muscles with his thumbs, “You wait here. I’m going to go get some ice and some pain killers and call Al.”

 “No, Dad it’s fine I- “he was cut off by a gentle hand rubbing his scalp for a moment before his father disappeared down the end of the hallway. Leaving Leo to sigh and lean back in his seat. He wasn’t embarrassed about his father’s protectiveness, but rather his own inability to cope with the pain.

 Well, now that the pressure was off his leg, he was bored.

  Atleast until a moment later when a loud crash filled the opposite end of the hallway his father had gone. Followed by a stream of shouting and cursing. Leo could only sigh and pinch his brow, “Oh no.”

Almost in unison the two voices suddenly yelped loudly before starting off again. Alfred turned the end of the hall, dragging along two of Leonardo’s brothers, the Chaotic Twins known as Michelangelo and Raphael. But they were only twins in the sense of age, since they hardly looked alike. Mikey was closer to his height then Raph’s, since Raph was the only brother who stood taller then their father. And other then their similar skin tones of dark green they even dressed differently. Since Mikey always liked to wear bright colors of varying fashions and Raph preferred dark red or black. But right now, they both were at the mercy of Allred, who had a tight grip on their masks and pulled upward so the knots that kept their masks on was pulling the fabric in a most uncomfortable manner,

 “He was the one who tried to- “

 “Lies and slander! Don’t’ listen to this poser Al- “

 “POSER!?” Raph yanked away at the death grip on his mask, “You’re the one who filled my shoes with, GOD what was that?!”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about! But if I DID I’d say it was a mixture of something I found in Dad’s closet, and a lot of Dicks old hair gel- ‘

 “Oh, you son of a-OW!”

 Alfred glared at the two turtles at his dwindling mercy, “That is enough out of both of you. If I hear one more word about ‘posers’ or ‘murdering’ eachothers or ‘memes-’

 Mikey looked up at Allred in confusion, ‘But I haven’t mentioned memes all day-OW!” ceased by another jerk on his mask

“Then you will both be sentenced to Laundry duty.” The two turtles immediately shut up. Even Raph looked a little worried for a moment. Alfred, finally noticing Leo was there, sighed, “Leonardo, my favorite turtle- ‘(ignoring Mikey shout in horror, ‘I thought I was your favorite!!!’”) “Please tell me you’ve seen your father? I feel compelled to inform him of his sons latest, ‘projects’”

 Leo couldn’t help but grin, truth be told Alfred HAD no favorite turtle. But at some moments Alfred would use his ‘favorite’ turtle tactic to get one of them to behave better, Atleast for a few minutes, “He’s getting some ice. I pulled my leg when we were practicing.”

 Alfred let out a long-suffering sigh that one might hear from a tired mother and not from a former British Secret Agent/Military Veteran, “Well that won’t do at all.” He gave a jerk on Raphael’s mask just as the red masked turtle tried to reach over and smack Mikey, “As soon as I’m done with these two, I will look at your leg- “

 “What did they do this time?”

 When his father had returned, Leo don’t know but he knew that he wouldn’t have jumped so hard if he had known it was his father taking his leg again, “Well Master Bruce, apparently there was a ruckus that involved defiling Master Raphael’s’ gym shoes and said Master swearing his revenge.”

 Bruce gave another sigh like Alfred’s, running his hand over this black hair, there were only a few dark grief streaks that undoubtedly came from, not dealing with a multi trillion-dollar company, but dealing with four teenage sons all day, “Raphael we’ve been over this, no killing your brother. Michelangelo stop tormenting your brother. If I catch either of you with a bruise or covered in chicken fat your both grounded

The moment Mikey was free he gave a loud yelp in joy, “Thanks Dad!!!!” before turning and charging for freedom. Free of the Mayhem Twins, Alfred knelt, “Let me handle this Master Bruce,” before pressing the icepack to Leo’s leg, Leo glanced to the one turtle who hadn’t run off in joy. That was the seething brother that, though younger then Leo, was taller than their father. “Why do you let him get away with everything?!” Raph demanded, “He torments me all freaking day and all he gets is a warning?!”

 “He’s not just getting a warning Raph, “if Bruce had mastered anything in the past thirteen years, it was patience, “I’m gong to talk to him later.” Raph scoffed angrily, storming a few feet away with his shell to them. Bruce stood up and walked over to him, taking him by the bicep and Turing him to look at him, “Why don’t you get some fresh air? Dick and Tim are back in town, I’m sure they’d like to take you on one of their patrols.”

 Leo could see the gears rolling in Raph’s mind. Struggling between staying and exacting his forbidden revenge on Mikey or being able to crush some one’s skull with his other brothers. Eventually he groaned, “Ok fine.”  Before turning and leaving

 “Don’t forget your coat Raph, “Bruce called, “If you stay until morning then call me. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  “I know I know Pop.” Raph waved without looking at him before leaving the need of the all. Leo had no doubt the news tomorrow would have several more segments of criminals begin beaten to a bloody pulp, “Are you sure that’s wise Master Bruce?” Alfred asked reflecting his own fears, but only hissed when Alfred shifted the icepack higher on his leg, “You know how bad his anger gets.”

 “He’s a good kid Alfred, I trust him. Sometimes he needs to let off steam. Dick and Tim will take good care of him.” Bruce stood by Leo’s chair just out of Leo’s peripherals but a gentle touch on his shoulder told him his father was still there, “How bad is it?’

 “He’s stressed several tendons in his leg, I recommend he rest it for Atleast three days.’

“Three days?!” Leo twisted to look up at Bruce, “Dad that’s not fair- “

 “If Alfred says to rest it then you rest it.”

 Three days though? As much as he wanted to argue, he didn’t want to disappoint his father. With a sigh, gesture his family shared, he leaned back in the seat with his father coaxing. Allowing Alfred to wrap up his calf. If he had to rest, he Atleast wasn’t going to be trapped, “Would it be alright if I used crutches Atleast?” he asked, “I don’t want to be stuck in one place, I promise not to move around too much.”

 Alfred gave Bruce a look before nodding, “So long as you keep your movements to a minimum, I will get you a walking cast “

 “Thank you,”

 “I was going to ask, “Leo was grateful to have his father’s attention on something else for a bit, “have you seen Donatello?”

 “Actually, I have. He was lingering around the kitchen again. NO doubted trying to sneak a cup of coffee.”

 Father sighed,’ Not again, I’ll deal with it. Will you get Leonardo somewhere comfortable and get him what he needs?” Without waiting or a answer, Bruce was already gone. No doubted off to fight the monster that was Donatello’s caffeine addiction.

 With a sigh Alfred looked back to Leo, “How many more years till I can retire?”

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

This wasn’t happening

The Chunin looked back down at his hands, the kunai he had been handed looked so big in the grip of a six-year-old, “You…you want me to what?” he asked the dark abyss

“They are not learning as quickly as you are.” The darkness exhumed cold, like the breath of the dead, “They are holding us back.”

“Th-they’re doing their best Master.” He begged, “Please, I’ll help them. I-I—” Chunin face exploded with pain as a staff backed across his face. If it hadn’t been the first time he experienced such pain, he might have been knocked over. But he instead squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head, ignoring the blood now running down his cheek. He felt a clawed hand grip his shoulder that seemed to suck all the happiness out of his body, “You are nothing but a weapon, Chunni, a tool. You have no will of your own except to cry out mine.” A claw as sharp as a knife touched underneath his chin, drawing his gaze up to a pair of pure white eyes with needlepoints for sprinkles. The white surface jagged with red lines, despite himself Leo could feel himself start to tremble. And the Master whispers to him

“Kill them.”

 The book and blanket that had been resting on his chest suddenly flew to the ground as Leo jolted awake with a gasp. His sudden movement irritated his wrapped leg and stole his breath. The turtle nearly doubling over as he held himself flighty, squeezing his burning eyes shut as he struggled to breath.

A dream

He tried to tell himself it was just a dream, a ghost of a memory but his shaking body refused to listen. Remembering the breathing techniques his father had taught him, he led himself through a short meditation, tell his body finally stopped trembling and his breathing beamed regular. When Leo lined back in his seat he glanced over at the large grandfather clock. His first irritation was that it had only been about half an hour since Alfred had dumped him in the library with a tray of snacks and books, the second behind this father had already been in to check on him, hens the blanket draped over him, and the third filled him with more sadness then anything

 And that was the slight angle to the clock itself. While that might have been a minute issue for certain people, for him it opened a can of worms.

 Leo stood from the couch, testing his walking cast before hobbling over. How someone had managed to get past him, even if he had been asleep, was enough to irritate him. But that irritation was drowned by his concerned brotherly nature. He took the Grandfather clock by the frame and pulled it away from the wall, letting it swing like a door.

The tunnel inside was as dark as ever, tinging with dust, but a faint light at the end of the steep staircase told him he was right. Someone was down there

 And he knew exactly how it was.

 It was strange to descend that staircase. The steps, like everything else, was covered in dust and cobwebs. With only faint darker steps marking anyone having been down there recently. Yet, when he reached the end, he still had to muffle a gasp.

 The Batcave, though still covered in dust and cobwebs, was just as impressive as it had been the first-time father had brought them home. It had scared his brothers so much that Mikey and Raph had refused to leave his side, and father had to carry Donnie in his arms. The T-rex alone was enough to give any six-year-old who lacked basic knowledge of anything, nightmares.

 Speaking of Donnie

 The giant behemoth that was the Bat monitor was the only thing in the room that had been recently cleaned off, all screens lit up with the same image of a dark tunnel. Leo sighed as he moved towards it and the chair facing it. he peered around the chair to see a familiar purple masked turtle sitting, his teal orbs fixated on the screen behind glasses, “Donnie” he sighed, shaking his brothers’ shoulder

 The youngest gave yelp jumping in his seat and immediately slashing his arms around as thigh he was in a kung Fu movie, his headphones sliding down from the sides of his head. After a few moments Donatello’s eyes looked back up to him, “Leo!” he fixed his headphones again, “Who-what are you doing down here? Dad told me you needed to rest.”

 “What are you doing down here, you know we’re not allowed in here.”

 “I-I” Donnie slapped at the console, turning off the monitors, “I wa seeing if Dad used to play solitaire down here.”

 If eto shared anything with his father, it was his intolerance of being lied to, “Fine, get grounded, see if I care.” Before taking a grip on his youngest brothers’ bicep and lifting him up to his feet, “We’re leaving, now.”

“No wait-I- “Donnie was able to pull his arm free, but also succeed in flailing back into his seat, “I-I.” he glanced back at the screen, “I-I lied. I’m sorry.”

 The anger Leo had felt ebbed from him, as much as he doesn’t want it to, “Then why are you down here again?”

 Again, teal eyes looked up at him, drawing in concern and worry that made Leo’s heart ache despite the stoic stance he was trying to pull off, “I was checking some of Dad’s old surveillance cameras to see if they were working.”

              “Why?”

 For a memo Leo was impressed his new ability to talk without being speaking Before realizing he had no such skill and his voice had no such ability to change at moments notice. The two turtles turned to the Batcave entrance to see the form of their father standing there, arms crossed with a less then impressed look in his eyes that promised repercussions.

 For a moment, he felt sorry for his youngest brother

 Then he remembered the time Donnie had turned his stereo into a robot, and quickly pushed his pity aside

 “B-Because I’ve seen the news Dad,” Don’ stuttering didn’t come from a fear of their father but rather a lifetime impediment, “Th-There have been a lot of disappearance in the sewers lately in Star City, Cyborg told me. And-and I wanted to see if the camera’s caught him, or anything.” Donnie looked back to Leo and then their father, “Its him, it has to be right?”

 The room fell silent, Bruce crossed the room and turned the large armchair in his direction before kneeling, “Donatello- “

 “It has to be him, what if he’s back Dad? What if he came back for Leo?  I Don’t want him to hurt my brothers=”

 “DON.” Their fathers tone wasn’t hard or bitter like the monsters in Leo’s nightmares, but one of a parent demanding their child’s attention, “Donnie, ‘he started again,” his hands coming up to rest on the youngest child’s shoulders, “Even if there was a chance he survived our fight in New York, there’s no way I’d let him anywhere near you or your brothers. That’s why I have those cameras in the cities surrounding ours, so I would know” Bruce’s hands came up to hold the sides of Don’s tear stained face, “You are my sons, and you will always be safe so long as I draw breath.”

 Donnie looked at the ground for a moment, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears before he gave each nod. Bruce drew him in to an embrace. Don’s smaller arms wrapping around his fathers’ neck as Bruce stroked the back of his head.

Leo looked away to spare his brothers’ pride, and to repent to his own harshness. Of course, Donnie wasn’t a bad kid, he was only a few years younger then himself, almost fourteen. He wasn’t’ like Mikey who always tried to cause mischief, or Raph whose anger sometimes overshadowed his overwhelming big heart.  It took him a moment to realize Donnie had finally broken his hug, wiping his eyes as Bruce stood up, turning to face Leo, “Go rest son, enjoy your night. Make sure you close the door behind you.” Before going back up the stairs. It took him a bit longer to realize Donni eyes staring at him, “What’s wrong?” he asked

 “Are you mad at me?”

 “No, I- “Leo paused, “No I was wrong, I was too harsh, I’m sorry.”

 Donnie nodded, his eyes glancing back to the blank computer screens, “he was really bad right? The Master? I mean, I don’t’ remember him, but I was walking by Raph’s’ room the other night and he…” he paused, being his lip, “Raph was crying. I even heard Mikey the other night screaming.”

 He remembered that, it was always this time of year that brought all those painful memories back. Leo had tried to reach them to provide some sort of comfort, but Dad had beaten him to them both times. “Yes, he was.” Was all he managed to say, but he took a breath, “But Splinter is gone, D, even if he wasn’t, there’s no way Dad or I would ever let him near you or our family.” He wasn’t sure if Donnie would believe him, mostly because he doesn’t believe himself, but his young trusting eyes turned to him again and nodded, “I believe you.”

 Those words could have broken him, how many times had he this same conversation with his father? Back when they were children and he still feared every shadow? How many times did he wake up crying in the middle o f the night only for the rather to appear a moment later, rubbing his shell and coaxing all the nightmares away? Despite himself, Leo gently cupped Donatello’s face with his palm, pressing their foreheads together for a moment before pulling away, “Come on little brother, why don’t’ we hang out in the library? That was Alfred doesn’t get a conniption from me standing on my leg

 Though light returns to his intelligent brothers’ eyes as he nods, there’s still a shadow of fear in his eyes. Leo follows his brother out of the Batcave, and as he closes the Grandfather clock behind them, he notices the tremble in his hands and immediately hides them from view.

He never thought he’d still fear monsters

 (#)(#)\/(#)(#)

“It’s him, isn’t’ it?”

 Bruce feels as though his lounge is sandpaper as he nodes, standing at the window. “I knew it was him when I saw the reports in New York, then in Philadelphia. For a ninja, he leaves an obvious trail.”

 “Then why let Raphael leave? Aren’t’ they al in danger?” despite the incident earlier, Bruce never doubted how much Alfred cared for his sons,

 “HE’s with Dick and Tim, and by my calculations, Splinter hasn’t’ reached Gotham yet. But I have no doubt that’s where he’s headed. “

 “DO you think he’s after Leonardo? That he sill wants his weapon? OR does he want revenge?”

 “If I know anything about him, he wants both. But he’ll get neither.” Bruce moved over to his large bed and sat down, his hands rubbing on his thigh,

 “IF I may,” nothing could ever stop Alfred from voicing his opinion, “You are not the man you were ten years ago. You may have taken his most valuable assets, but he took something from you as well.”

 Bruce nodded, rolling back the leg of his pants, revealing a pale leg that matched the rest of his body. But he twisted his thigh for a moment, and with a his the deceiving human leg separated from his body. WITH the top off the line robotics, this leg still lacked the natural hairline reflect the rest of his body had. And while that may not be a issue for a normal person, for him it made every fight a struggle between life and death,” when I first fell into those sewers, I didn’t know what awaited me Alfred, I expected monsters but instead I found a turtle in form of a child, a child more scared then any child should ever feel, flinching at every shadow, and I wondered what could eve remake someone that young so scared of the dark….” he looked back down the remains of his leg, the horrendous scaring that marked where eat had been removed from the rest of his body, “But all those years being Batman didn’t prepare me for that kind of monster.”

 “You should send the boys away, they can stay with Mr. Kent.”

 “They wouldn’t’ leave and you know it.” Bruce put his leg back in place, the hissing markings where the leg was realigning with the already stationed apparatus. HE stood again< “IF I have to, I will return to the darkness. I will do what ever it takes to protect them.” Before his mind wondered back to the Cave he had just caught is sons in, the tall glass displays still covered in dust, marking a life he had far left behind.

He would do whatever it took to keep them safe

#tmnt #batman #teenage mutant ninja turtles #batman v teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfiction #crossover #au #batdad #turtlesons #tmnt fanfiction

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I want to make a big post in regards to the survey I put out yesterday and talk about the future of this blog, as well as talk about [with you], my other writings and future posts. 

This post is massive, but I want to be thorough about everything I put in the survey and the responses it got. 

Before I start, I just want to say another thank you to everyone who has been supportive of me and this blog, and to everyone who took the time to take the survey and leave me feedback. 

Except for the 3 people [which I’m not even convinced is 3 separate people tbh] who answered NO on every single question and the proceeded to write paragraphs about how my blog and writings are awful. I’m convinced this is the anon[s] who has actively sent me hate for the past few months based on the style the paragraphs were written. I know it’s you, hate anon[s], and your answers and votes have been completely scrapped. 

Anyway, with that out of the way, I do want to add that the survey will be up for the rest of the week in case anyone still wants to take it. I’ll check it every night and close it after this Sunday.  

Let’s get into this. 

I want to start by prefacing that I understand this is MY blog and I can post whatever I want. 

If I wanted to do character nights every night of the week or spend an entire day posting the same picture of Omar with stew on his face with the caption “Omar’s daily skincare routine”, then I could. 

I won’t, but I could. 

That being said, while there are things that I want to do or have thought about doing, I don’t want to do them if no one wants it. It would be a waste of time to do it anyway and then have no one read or appreciate it. That’s a big reason for this- to get a feel for what I want to do but also know what you want to see. 

This was the first thing I wanted to confirm everyone was on board with. I LOVE doing these character and ship nights and I want to keep doing them every weekend! I get so many great responses [hell, most nights I get more responses than I can answer in a single night!] and have a blast talking about them! 

So, you can imagine how happy I was to see that 92% of the answers were YES. The 8% who said NO included the 3 hate responses, but also 2 random NO’s that I was curious about. When I made the survey, I thought about adding a WHY after every question but didn’t because I wanted it to be quick. 

We’ll continue to do character nights every Saturday and ship nights every Sunday. 

We’ve only got three more Ericson kids to do for the character nights, and then we’ll spread out and do some characters from the other seasons. One thing that popped up frequently in the final response at the end of the survey was more attention to the other seasons, which is exciting! S4 may be my favorite season of the series, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the other seasons and it’s characters. 

I mean, c’mon, it’d be a SIN to not have a Lee night, right? 

We still have plenty of ships to get through for s4, but when we eventually get through all of those, I’ll draw in other ships from the other games. 

This one is important to me. 

As far as my list of projects and future posts go, this one is the oldest. I’ve collected one-shots and multi-chapter fics and put them on my TBR list since ep2 was released. 

Initially, I thought I was going to read all of them, then make a master list of my favorites with little mini-reviews. And then my list grew past 40 fics. Every time I would look at it, I’d say, “That’s a lot, I do it later lol.” 

And then I got fed up and said, “Y’know what? Why am I making this harder for myself? Just take it 3-5 fics at a time and give them the focus and appreciation they deserve!”

So I did. 

And if felt good to finally do it. 

If any of you out there within this community haven’t ever written fanfiction, maybe you don’t like to and you’d rather just read it or you don’t have any ideas or whatever the reason may be, then you might not know [or fully understand] this: 

Writing is hard. 

It’s fun and worth it, but it is so damn hard. 

And writer’s need to be appreciated for all the hard work and time they put into these stories.

This isn’t me calling out people for reading and not reviewing. Everyone has their reason for not reviewing a fic: They didn’t like it, they don’t know what to say, they loved it but can’t express how much they love it, they don’t think about it, they left kudos or likes and that’s enough- whatever! It’s all valid. 

You as the reader don’t have to review things.

I’m just saying that reviews, when given by those who are comfortable doing so, are appreciated, are a great way to boost a writer’s confidence in their work, and let the writer know that they’re creating something good. 

As a writer myself, reviews are something I cherish. I don’t care if it’s a review that says “Love it!” or “Can’t wait for more!” or if it’s a long paragraph. ALL of it is important to me. Every kudos or like is important to me. 

As a writer, I know that one review can make or break your spirit for writing. 

I am more than comfortable leaving long reviews, both on the story itself and on these posts I’ve started creating. I want these writers to know that they are so damn talented and we appreciate them and their work.

The mindset I go into when reading and reviewing these stories is “As a writer, what’s a review that I could only ever DREAM of receiving? What’s a review that would make me want to keep writing and better myself?” 

Then I do my best to give them that review that they deserve. 

Because you never know. What if this review inspires one of these writers and then they write the most beautiful story this fandom’s ever seen? 

What if this writer was having a shitty day, or week, or month, and this review made them feel better?

What if this writer felt they weren’t good enough and was on the edge of never writing another story despite their talent and this review made them rethink that decision? 

And if I have a chance at giving them that review? I’m going to take it. 

It’s worth it. 

THIS is the kind of positivity I want to share on this blog. 

Even if I have to do it 3 stories at a time, I will continue to make these appreciation posts, and based on the 92% of YES’s on the survey, you guys want more of them which I’m grateful. 

Much like the fanfic appreciation posts, this one has been on my mind for a long time. 

Like most of you, I’ve spent years plaything these games and watching Clementine grow. Seeing her story come to its conclusion [after the very real possibility that it wouldn’t] was emotional on every level, and it continues to be emotional every time I replay the series.

If there’s one thing that I LOVE to discuss and read about, it’s how different everyone’s Clementine is. 

None of them are the same. Sure, there are things about her that we can’t change [her race and sexuality] but as far as parts of her personality, how she interacts with others, who she falls in love with, and how she raises AJ is in our hands and how we want to shape her. 

Even when we’re not playing as her our choices affect her character. 

I’ve wanted to sit down and replay the entire series all over again, focus on Clementine, take even more notes, and then write a post of how MY Clementine grew throughout the series. 

Like I said, ALL of our Clementine’s are different. I want to make this post and then see how different YOUR Clementine is compared to mine. 

I want you to read the post and say “Wait, what? That’s not what my Clementine felt or did, she [blank]” because think of the possibilities for discussion that would open up? 

Honestly, I could spend hours talking about Clementine and the effects my choices had on her. 

So, yes, this is one that I will be doing. It won’t be done right away since I’m waiting for the Definitive series to release so that I can play that version. Not only that, but it’s not like I can beat the whole thing in a couple hours. This post will take weeks to prepare and I truly can’t wait. 

I’m super excited about this one! And based on the 95% of people who said YES, y’all are excited, too! 

This one was the most, um.... “controversial”?

That might be the right word, haha. That makes it sound TOO serious. 

I actually added a [+other characters] to this question because I was trying to get across that I wanted to do character studies in general with Louis as an example, whether it be an analysis post OR a character study one-shot, like what I did with Mitch and [gross feelings]. 

However, I’m dumb and was in a hurry, so I slapped down Louis’ name and that point was COMPLETELY lost when I posted this question and that’s 100% my fault. 

I should’ve worded it: Would you be interested in character STORIES/STUDIES of Louis AND the other Ericson kids?

I guess I could go on there NOW and fix is but................ would it matter? 

I got a few comments about this one, each with the same worry about it. I won’t directly mention it here, but I want you to know that I’ve read through them carefully and I completely understand where you’re coming from. 

What I can share is basically summed up in this one sentence [which I hope this person doesn’t mind me using]:  “I think your ship posts and fanfics are better for the blog because Character studies I feel like crosses over into some other blogs and it might ruin what they have going for them since you kind of do everything?”

Fair enough. 

However, I still want to do them, just... a little differently. 

The more and more I thought about it, I think it might be fun to do more stories like [gross feelings] where it’s character-centric, told from only their POV, and delves into their feelings towards a certain topic. 

[gross feelings]: Mitch-centric, focuses on his views of romance, how conflicted he is upon realizing he has feelings for James, and how Clementine and Louis’ relationship impacted his views. 

It’s not a character study in the sense that I’m sitting down and writing down every single thing I know about him with my observations and theories about his character. It’s a story that dives into his mind.

For Louis, what if I wrote a fic based in the week after Marlon’s death and they’re preparing for the delta? Completely his POV and focuses on his conflicting feelings on Marlon, AJ, and Clementine? It’d still be a character study but within an actual story. 

Or after Clementine comes back on the brink of death and missing a leg?

Or, hell, if I want to make myself sad, I could do one based on when he loses his tongue. 

That’s more along the lines I was thinking and just worded it badly in the question I put out. In my head, it made sense so I get where those comments were coming from. Y’all are gonna have to give me feedback on if you think that’s a better direction because I think it is. 

This one I thought could be fun.

In case you don’t know, another thing that I love to discuss is changes I [and everyone else] would make to certain seasons to improve the overall story. 

For example, I don’t like the Stranger in s1 and think Jolene should’ve been the one to kidnap Clementine. 

That’s a huge change to the story and opens up a shit ton of possibilities.

This is something that I think could be an entertaining thing to write and read and discuss. Again, this won’t be done for a very long time, since I’ll have to wait until the Definitive series releases and then do the posts between each season as I finish them, which will take a while. 

Also!

One comment that was left was “What if we have season nights?” like we so with characters and ships. I think that is a wonderful idea! Not only would we be able to talk about the things we love, but we’d also get to share our different ideas for what could’ve improved the season! 

Hell, maybe we could have a season WEEKEND. Since there’s a lot to talk about with each season, a night might not be enough. Maybe instead of doing a character/ship that weekend, we dedicate both days to Season 1/2/3/4?

It could be fun!

I’m still iffy on this one, but I was surprised to see such a high amount of people answer YES. 

I’ve always thought about live streaming the final season, but I still don’t have a full grasp of how Mixer works [I play on xbox so I have to stream that way and Mixer is their way of doing it, I guess] nor do I own a headset or microphone to talk to you guys through. I could always do a silent stream, but really, where’s the fun in that??

Then again, do y’all really want to hear my cringy voice...? haha

It’s something that I want to do, though. 

I even went into the gaming section at Walmart yesterday to look at their headsets and just “.......What does any of this mean??” 

Sometimes I feel like an old lady who can’t quite grasp technology. 

Then again, I had a lot on my mind yesterday and that might’ve distracted me. Needless to say, I did not buy a headset. 

I want to do it, but I’m iffy still. That sums it up. 

I was nervous about asking this one. 

And I almost cried when I saw 95% of people said YES. 

Most of the negative thoughts that I’ve had lately are related to my writing. Like I mentioned above, writing is hard. I love it so much but holy shit, sometimes it fucks me up. 

I’ve gotten pretty good at sitting myself down, forcing all the negativity out of my mind, and just writing. I’ve done a lot of other things to help with writing and most of them have worked. It’s just been these past few weeks that I’ve relapsed into that negativity and self-doubt. 

I guess I just needed to know that this is something that you guys still wanted, and now I know. 

Now, I promised at the beginning of this that I would talk about [with you].

It’s been a long time since it’s been updated. I promised the final chapter a while ago and then I dealt with personal issues that prevented me from doing so. Then, when I went to finish it, I did. 

And it was shit. 

It was rushed and not everything I wanted it to be. I was writing it just to get it done, and that’s not what I’m about. I want to write something because I love it, not because I feel obligated to. 

I want to finish [with you], but I want to finish it the right way and it took me a long time to come to this conclusion. 

Here’s the part where I let you in on a secret: 

I haven’t just been rewriting Chapter 6. 

I’ve been rewriting the whole thing. 

Chapters 1-3 have been revised with extra scenes, better grammar, and better flow into each other. Chapter’s 4-5 are currently being reworked, and Chapter 6 is being written. 

Not only that, but I’ve split up these long-ass chapters so that they’re easier and less overwhelming to read through. 

I can already hear it: “CJ?? Post chapter 6 first??? then go back a revise?? it’s been six months??? why do you hate us??????????” 

Going back and “fixing” Chapters 1-5 have done nothing but improve Chapter 6 and the overall story. I’m sorry that it’s been so long that a lot have given up on it, but if I’m going to finish this, I’m going to finish it so that I’m proud of it. 

When the final chapter is finished, I’ll be “re-posting” the entire story on AO3, FF.net, Wattpad, and here. And what I mean by that is I’ll go in, edit the chapters and replace them with the new ones, as well as split them into their proper parts, and release the ending. I won’t take down or delete the stories because I want to keep the reviews they currently have. 

I’m just telling you this because right now, you’ll see this: 

Chapters: 5/6

And when it’s finished, you’ll see something like this:

Chapters: 10/10 [or something, I don’t know the exact number yet]

That’s where [with you] stands. 

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and this story. I hope you love it when it’s finished. 

I added this in as an opportunity to tell me what you wanted to see from me or suggest prompts for future stories. 

I’ve looked over all of them and tucked them away in my prompt folder. 

I added this as a “final thoughts” section where you could suggest other things or say something that’s on your mind. 

Again, I’ve looked over all of these several times and took them into consideration.

I also want to express a huge thank you for the amount of support I received while reading through them. 

I hate to get mushy-gushy here at the end of this long post [and kudos to you if you actually made it this far holy shit], but I love you all. 

Except you, hate anon[s]. Still iffy on you. 

Seriously, you guys make running this blog, writing fics, and replaying these games worth it. I can’t express how much y’all have helped me and I’m happy to still be here. Yeah, Clementine’s story is over but that doesn’t mean I’m over it and I’m happy to have so many people here who I can talk about this with. 

Thank you. ❤️

#asks #twdg fanfic appreciation #[with you] #[with you] update #twdg #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg mitch #twdg omar #twdg aj #twdg lee #this is long #but important #thank you

[artificialqueens]

The Language of Flowers 5.5 (Multi) - Albatross

AN: Dear god it’s finally done after like 4 months! Hope you all enjoy it!

To the anon asking about whether or not there’ll be a chapter about the Shinkx date; the answer is ‘Yes, but…’

Yes, I do have a tentative plan to post mini chapters for both dates but…I’m probably not going to work on it right away. Almost definitely not actually. As much as I loved writing this story, I need a break from it for a little while.

As for other plans; Rajadore is almost certainly the next piece I’ll be working with probably Rajila following that. Phianca will be done at some point but I’m having issues with the plot atm so that’s on the back burner. And…I’m about 95% sure I’m revisiting Rajalaskam again. Still in the planning stages but I think I have an idea for a new, final final chapter for their series so keep an eye out for that.

When Jinkx explained their spontaneously decided plan, Courtney was a bit hesitant. Organizing a class to make the same kind of bouquets that got them into this mess and inviting Trixie and Katya to attend at the same time? It seemed rather like a bad idea but deep down Courtney secretly loved the romanticism of the proposal. She kept her concerns to herself and offered Jinkx and Ivy help in any way that she could think of. Still she couldn’t help but feel that it was incredibly unlikely for this plan to actually work. It was quite cliche but maybe with just a pinch of luck they could pull this off anyhow.

Since Jinkx and Ivy were busy constructing the lesson plan and tracking down all of the supplies needed for the class, Courtney took to advertising it. Of course her first thought was to spread the word around Katya’s campus. That seemed to be the mostly likely place to find interested participants. A small part of her toyed with the idea of handing out fliers, perhaps even near the library but she wasn’t ready to see Trixie yet. She knew if she saw her before Saturday she’d end up making things worse by trying to talk to her…and of course she might catch onto the plan if she knew one of Katya’s friends works at the shop.

Instead Courtney reached out to the campus Facebook page and received permission to make a quick post inviting students to attend the fast-approaching course. If nothing else, it would make it seem more legitimate to Trixie and surely at least a few people would decide to attend from that post alone. Courtney also spread news of the class by word of mouth and received a few promises from some of her own friends that they would either stop by or encourage others to do so. Hopefully, there’ll be enough people to make this look like less like a spur of the moment decision and Trixie won’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

With the advertising taken care of, now came the difficult part; ensuring Katya would be attending as well. Though Courtney made herself sound confident when she told Jinkx she could get the younger blonde to the shop without an issue; it turned out to be much easier said than done.

Ever since the scene at the library, Katya had been pretty down on herself. She was hardly leaving the apartment aside from classes or a show and she had stopped frequenting at the library entirely. Though she hadn’t mentioned it, Courtney suspected she was actively avoiding anywhere she might see Trixie and even for their shared classes, it’d be a short guess to say she was probably sitting well on the opposite side of the room from the young woman.

As for her studying, if you can call staring blankly at a page for ten minutes at time 'studying’, Katya just didn’t seem as enthusiastic about it as she had been before. Literature had always been her passion and even studying from textbooks was still fascinating to her yet now it seemed all of that previous spark had disappeared. She was listless and far from her normal energetic self, clearly still thinking about Trixie and not her projects. It hurt to see someone previously so happy and optimistic as broken as this. Even a slight hint of anything related to Trixie caused her eyes to cloud with longing and regret. Silently, Courtney made a wish almost every night that on Saturday everything would be fixed.

On the day of the class, Courtney had been assigned to work the opening shift as this would give her time to head back to her apartment to pick up Katya and make sure she found her way to the shop. At first everything seemed fine; the store was busy so there was hardly time to think about anything other than the customers and fulfilling the day’s orders. That all changed once Jinkx had arrived to start her own shift. They were only together for about an hour due to the sheer number of customers in the shop that she, Ivy and Violet couldn’t handle alone, but just seeing the redhead, never mind not even discussing the class that night, caused Courtney’s stomach to drop and a heavy worry rested on her shoulders even after she was finally able to leave following her shift.

Up until that day, Courtney had been careful not to mention any of the plan to Katya. It was unlikely that she would agree if she knew about it beforehand and would probably arrange to be elsewhere for the duration of the class. At least the one thing Courtney could rely on was that Katya would be at the apartment when she arrived. Her classes were already finished for the day and Courtney doubted she’d want to be anywhere else right now.

The moment Courtney walked into the apartment she heard soft music seeping through Katya’s closed door. Unsurprisingly it was yet another sad song about heartbreak that she loved to torture herself to as of late. Very gently, Courtney knocked on the door and waited until she received a word of acknowledgment before entering. Like she had so many other days this week, Courtney immediately made her way to Katya’s bed and pulled the dejected young woman into her arms. As part of their new routine, Katya rested her head in the crook of Courtney’s neck and let out a sad little sigh.

Running her hand up and down Katya’s back, Courtney asked how her day had gone and made their typical small talk until Katya finally ran out of things to say. Even though there was still a few hours before the class would be starting, Courtney knew she’d have to begin introducing the idea of going out tonight as soon as possible. With enough pleading and puppy eyes, Courtney felt mostly assured of herself to be able to get Katya to agree to go to the shop with her. Under normal circumstances, it’d probably take only a few minutes before the blonde would give in but Courtney had a feeling that right now, she’d probably need every hour she has at her disposal.

“Katy…” she drew out with a slight whine in her tone, “I was thinking we should go out tonight, have a little fun, you know?”

Buried her face into Courtney’s neck, she tightened her grip around the older blonde’s waist and replied, “I wanna just stay here and mope.”

“Come on,” Courtney insisted, “We need to get you out of this head-space-”

“-I like this head-space!” Katya interrupted.

“It’s not healthy though,” the older blonde argued. “We don’t have to do anything big…could go to a movie, eat dinner…Jinkx has her first arrangement course tonight.”

Katya gave a muffled groan of acknowledgment but no other noise indicating that she’d agree to go. Knowing it’d probably be most effective to try and guilt the younger woman into attending, Courtney mentioned, “I’m sure it’d mean a lot if we both were there; she worked so hard on it.”

But Katya would not budge on the issue. For the next hour and a half, Courtney continued to make comments specifically designed to play at the blonde’s heartstrings. A few of her favorites included variations of “We don’t even know how many people are going to show up…”, “I hope there’s at least a few who attend”, and of course; “It’d be a shame for everything to go to waste.”

Slowly progress was being being made; Katya couldn’t stand to look at her or the soft, pleading eyes Courtney threw her way every five minutes. Still though, she had yet to yield to Courtney’s request. If only Courtney had a little more time she was sure she could break Katya’s resistance…But the class started in an hour! Was all this effort really going to be for nothing?

A knock was heard on the apartment door and though Courtney was tempted to ignore it in favor of continuing to persuade Katya, proper etiquette compelled her to see who it was and what they needed. It was quite a surprise to find Willam on the other side looking just a tad amused with a lazy smirk on her face. Feeling herself flush a little bit, Courtney let out a surprised gasp and said, “Oh! What are you doing here?”

“Hey, princess,” Willam called out to Courtney’s annoyance. Once she earned an eye roll from the older woman, she stated, “Vi mentioned you might have some trouble trying to get Katya out of the apartment.”

“And she sent you to help?” Courtney asked doubtfully.

With a secretive and far from reassuring smile, Willam declared, “I volunteered.”

“Uh-huh…should I ask why?” the blonde said with a heavy layer of suspicion in her voice.

Patting the shorter woman’s head, Willam invited herself into the apartment and rebuffed her friend, “Don’t worry your pretty little head with the details.”

As Willam made her way to Katya’s bedroom, Courtney couldn’t help but feel a heavy dose of apprehension as to what Willam’s intentions were. Although if it gets Katya to the shop, how much should she really complain? It was getting down to the wire after all.

Perhaps too closely, Courtney followed behind the dirty blonde as she entered Katya’s room without even an attempt to announce her presence beforehand. The look on Katya’s face was truly a study and a little yelp could be heard right before she pulled the sheets up over her wide eyes. Curling into a tight ball, the blonde huddled beneath the covers as Willam marched right up to the side of the bed with a disturbingly devilish grin on her face.

“Uh-uh,” she taunted as she pulled away the covers with little effort. “None of that.”

“Willam-” Courtney worriedly began to interject until the dirty blonde shot her a quick look.

“Outside,” she commanded in a no-nonsense tone. “I’m gonna have a little chat with her for a minute.”

Immediately Courtney found herself obeying and was sprinting past the door as she pointedly ignored Katya’s call of 'Traitor!’ on the way out.

Reluctantly closing the door, Courtney all but pressed her ear to the faux wood in an attempt to hear what Willam was saying to her roommate. It was a short guess to imagine that she was probably scolding the young blonde for her pitiful behavior and demanding for her to get her act together. There were a few muffled sounds from Katya as though she were trying to defend herself but Willam refused to listen to any such excuses. In what seemed to be no time at all, the pair were exiting Katya’s room with Willam ushering the very harassed looking young woman towards the bathroom with a change of clothes in hand.

“Okay, okay,” the blonde insisted as she entered the communal washroom, “I can do this part myself!”

“And if you don’t come out looking half-decent, I’m fixing it for you!” Willam threatened as the door closed in front of her. Courtney had little doubt that she meant it. More than once Willam had forcefully fixed her own makeup before entering a club so that Courtney 'wouldn’t embarrass her with more lipstick on her teeth than her face.’

There was very little chit-chat as the pair waited for Katya to reemerge from the bathroom. Courtney had taken to nervously braiding her hair to keep from constantly checking the time on her phone. More than once Willam had pounded on the door and shouted a few encouraging phrases to the young woman including 'Hurry the fuck up!’ and 'We haven’t got all night!’ and a rather harsh, 'It’s Spackle on sandpaper; it doesn’t have to be perfect!’

To her credit Katya was finished in just over 20 minutes. Her makeup had been touched up greatly and her hair looked less like a tangled mess of flyaways and curls. Even the outfit Willam had undoubtedly selected for her looked much better than what Katya was likely going to wear. Somehow the dirty blonde managed to find the least gaudy clothes that Katya had owned and created a cute, casual little outfit that she could both show off and work in. Sadly, Courtney got very little chance to compliment her roommate before Willam was rushing them all out the door in order to make it to the shop on time.

As Courtney pulled Katya from the car, she made a quick note that Willam was actually putting money into the meter again. She flashed a quick smile to the dirty blonde as they made their way to the shop front. Understandably they had been the last people to arrive. If you had asked Courtney how many people she would have expected to show up, she probably would have said perhaps 15 or so at the most…that guesstimate was nowhere close to the actual number!

Ivy and Jinkx had somehow managed to fit and divide up 15 tables into three rows on the shop’s floor and provide chairs for all of the attendees. Most of the tables had between three and four people sitting or standing nearby and needless to say; the building was utterly packed. Luckily there still seemed to be a few empty spaces towards the back but aside from that it was safe to say the class was pretty much at full capacity. Courtney was starting to push Katya towards the open chairs but a sudden resistance caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Katya had stood frozen just a few steps past the door and an immensely unhappy groan passed through her lips. Without even having to ask, Courtney could guess that Katya had spotted Trixie at the other end of the room. Her hair was a bit hard to miss after all…

It was no surprise that Katya had almost immediately turned around to leave but a quick glare from Willam sent her meekly shuffling towards the empty table near the back of the first aisle. As they sat down, Courtney ran her hand over Katya’s arm and muttered a few comforting words to console the younger woman who was less than subtly stealing a glance Trixie’s way. She was looking so utterly miserable that they both were here at the same time and undoubtedly was regretting having shown up at all. While Willam hopped on the table behind them and typed away on her touch screen, Courtney snuck a quick look of her own over towards Trixie. She seemed to feel as out of place and unhappy as Katya yet unlike everyone else; she had no one with her to make sure she stayed for the duration of the class. She was clutching at her knee as though she were debating getting up and leaving but to Courtney’s relief Sharon emerged from the break room and her mere presence caused the mindless chatter to lighten significantly.

“About time she showed up,” Willam grumbled as she put away her phone.

Vaguely Courtney thought the two might have been in communication with each other but she didn’t have the attention span to question it. She was too focused on keeping Katya calm until Jinkx could move forward with their plan. To any of the other attendees who didn’t know her, it would have looked like Jinkx was the picture of poise and relaxation but Courtney wasn’t fooled. She knew Jinkx was a nervous wreck on the inside but Sharon’s little nod of encouragement as she began her opening speech seemed to calm some of that inner turmoil.

While Jinkx ran through her lecture, beginning with vague introductions to floriography then onto more specific examples, Courtney couldn’t help but to inwardly cringe at how overt she was being…at least towards the two people this really mattered for. She never would have had the courage that Jinkx had to actually look Trixie and Katya dead in the eye as she all but told them exactly what had gone wrong with the bouquet. She used examples directly taken from that fated arrangement for the class but at least it served its purpose.

As Jinkx’s sight traveled elsewhere, Courtney saw a look of realization that passed over Trixie’s face as she finally got the message. Her cheeks flushed with guilt and embarrassment as she slunk into her seat. As for Katya, she sat in a meditative state for quite some time. Courtney had yet to fully explain the details of what was incorrect with the bouquet but it seemed Katya was well on her way to figuring it out anyhow. While Jinkx was finishing her speech, Katya turned to Courtney for confirmation as she asked softly, “It was because I asked Ivy to use yellow and white flowers, wasn’t it?”

Nodding her head, Courtney replied defensively, “She was following a cheat sheet…some of the meanings on the insert weren’t listed there and-”

“Like what yellow roses can mean?” Katya interrupted with an unusually pensive tone.

“Yeah…”

With that Katya fell back into a state of deep thought, letting her line of sight drift back to Trixie. The younger woman seemed to sense that she was being watched and shifted her head to find an apologetic Katya staring at her. To Courtney’s relief, Trixie appearing to be feeling quite a heavy dose of guilt for automatically assuming the worst with the bouquet Katya had given her. Jinkx’s less than subtle lecture had definitely struck a chord with her. Though Courtney would have loved to see them talking it out then and there, each tore away their gaze and focused their attention on the sheets of paper sitting on each of the tables.

Jinkx had taken the liberty of producing and distributing a more in-depth cheat sheet of various flowers and their meanings, including the negative connotations this time. It was in Courtney’s nature to want to offer Katya help with her bouquet but after the last time she forced her assistance…well, it landed them here. Instead she asked quietly, “What are you going to do?”

Very determined, Katya looked up from the paper and replied, “I’m gonna remake that bouquet…the last one I gave her…I’m gonna do it right this time.”

Smiling brightly, Courtney encouraged her, “I think that’s a very good plan.”

*******

Katya had studied the cheat sheet far longer than Courtney had expected her to, undoubtedly trying to make sure that this one would truly explain how she felt. When she finally felt ready to select her flowers, Willam joined her in the walk to the alcove. Courtney had taken this opportunity to study Trixie just a little bit further. She had already made her trip to pick up the flowers and was now staring intensely at the pile in front of her. Of course the first flowers that caught her eye were the vibrant and plentiful chrysanthemums. They certainly would take up a lot of the attention but aside from them there was a healthy amount of a smaller yellow flower; rue as Courtney soon identified. If nothing else, at least Trixie seemed to be truly apologetic about how she had reacted to the last bouquet.

What gave Courtney the most hope that this would in fact turn out for the best was a bundle of white flowers tucked away with the sparse amount of filler plants Trixie had picked up; rain lilies. Courtney didn’t need to look at the paper to recall what those had symbolized. Her only prayer was that Trixie meant it in the same romantic way that Katya feels, not as a purely friendship based sentiment.

About this time, the other girls had returned from the front of the shop with their own handfuls of flowers. Surprisingly though it wasn’t all for Katya to use. Willam had kept a small amount for herself as she hopped right back up on the near empty table behind Courtney.

Once everyone was in their seats once more, Willam excluded, Jinkx restarted her lecture on the basics of building a bouquet. She stressed that there was no wrong way essentially with how each person went about it; what she was teaching was only some of the techniques she had used frequently in the shop. She advised that it be decided first which of the flowers would be used as the focal point of the arrangement and flesh out the design from there. The main flowers should stand at the forefront and be the first thing the receiver’s eye is drawn to. Other flowers used should compliment that decision, be it with their colors, their shape or their height difference. Everything should come together as a cohesive piece of art, something that will tell the receiver a message even if the flowers selected won’t do that. It should show that time and effort went into the making of the bouquet and that the choice to give this as a gift wasn’t made lightly.

Again Courtney was amazed at how natural Jinkx sounded as she offered little tips and hints to her students. It almost seemed as though her nerves had disappeared by the time she excused everyone to their work. She made it a point to walk around and offer one-on-one assistance with those who needed it but she was very careful to avoid the areas near Trixie and Katya as much as she able to. Both of them were working in earnest anyway and didn’t seem to notice.

Another pair that was being surprisingly diligent in their work was Sharon and Violet. Courtney hadn’t expected them to participate as well yet they appeared to be taking Jinkx’s lesson to heart. Unfortunately, Sharon seemed to be getting frustrated with her bouquet and after disassembling it for the fourth time, she finally gave up to join Jinkx at the top of the alcove. Violet on the other hand was making a rather stunning bouquet focusing heavily on purple, white, and blue flowers. She threw in a touch of yellow among the filler flowers but it was clear she didn’t intend for the bouquet to serve any purpose other than looking good. Ivy hung by her side chatting with her and offering little pieces of encouragement whenever a flower would fall or a stem would break from exceedingly rough handling.

As for Katya, she was very much focused on her own bouquet trying get everything to lay in the vase just right. Every so often Courtney would provide a bit of advice like placing a sturdier flower beneath a smaller one to help hold it up higher but for the most part she was content to just watch. Gradually she was slipping off into her own head-space until the brush of something against her neck jolted her back to reality.

An embarrassingly loud startled noise escaped her, thinking at first that it had been a bug crawling on her until she heard the soft 'Whoops’ that slipped out from the woman behind her. Turning around in her seat, she found Willam looking far too innocent to be sincere. Her eyes raked up and down the young woman’s body as Willam practically dared her to try accusing her of something. It almost worked until Courtney’s eye caught sight of the flower still in Willam’s possession.

At once her own hand flew to the back of her head and to her irritation it almost immediately made contact with something that ought not to be there. Rolling her eyes, she clutched at the flower that had been stuck in her braid and yanked it out for confirmation. Glaring at Willam, she huffed out far louder than she meant to, “Willam! Are you kidding me? Have you seriously been sticking flowers in my hair this whole time?”

Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, Willam partially bit back a smirk as she argued, “What? I didn’t have a vase.”

Narrowing her eyes at the pathetic excuse, Courtney shot back, “There’s one right next to you!”

Dragging her braid over her shoulder to begin removing all of the plant life, she muttered in annoyance, “Honestly, I can’t believe you sometimes-”

“Hey, Court,” Katya interrupted as she placed her hand over Courtney’s to stop the disassembly, “Hold on for a minute…”

Running her eyes down the length of hair, Katya stated, “It doesn’t look that bad really…It’s actually kind of cute…”

Feeling her cheeks flush ever so slightly, Courtney asked timidly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Katya confirmed as she pulled Courtney’s hand away. Picking up the blonde’s phone, she opened the camera app and murmured, “Here, hold on…”

Snapping a quick picture of Willam’s work, she extended the phone back to Courtney with an ardent, “See?”

Carefully studying the image, Courtney had to agree that the arrangement, what she hadn’t disturbed of it at least, did in fact look good. However, that wasn’t the only detail that caught her attention. Her face began to burn as she mumbled, “Oh…um, thanks, Bill…”

She could hardly bring herself to make eye contact with Willam who thankfully seemed almost as embarrassed as she was. The dirty blonde’s cheeks had also become tinted with a light pink as she shrugged her shoulders again and turned her attention to her own phone. Glancing down at the partially crushed bit of toadflax in her hand, Courtney felt her heart practically skipping beats as it hammered away in her chest. Forcing herself to fight against her nerves, she drew her line of sight up towards the dirty blonde and asked softly, “Bill…Would you mind finishing it?”

Willam’s eyes darted back to her in shock but almost immediately she gave a silent nod of her head. Swiftly turning around to allow Willam to continue her work, Courtney’s gaze drifted back to the image on her screen. She bit her lip as she carefully identified each of the flowers Willam had snuck into her braid without her noticing…there was toadflax of course, heliotrope, honeysuckle, and a few violets…All of them had similar meanings, surely that couldn’t be a coincidence, right?

Is this what Sharon meant about the signs?

Courtney found she didn’t have the courage to ask that question just yet, at least not out loud.

For the remainder of the class, she and Willam stayed largely silent towards each other. The most Courtney had said to her following the outburst was another quick 'Thanks’ after she had completely finished her design. As soon as it was done, Willam took a picture of her own and sent it to Courtney for review. She swiftly turned herself away from the blonde as soon as she had received the image and refused to look at her directly for very long.

Around the same time Willam had finished, Katya had also wrapped up her own work. The bouquet looked quite good for her first attempt, perhaps a little lopsided or uneven in certain areas but still an excellent effort for someone with no experience. Once there wasn’t anything further that could be added, Katya’s hands found their way to the leftover stems and leaves and soon began picking them apart.

Courtney recognized the behavior immediately and returned to gently praising the younger woman for a job well done. Almost all of the other attendees had stopped working by this time as well so it was hardly out of place to hear Jinkx calling out, “It looks like pretty much everyone has finished their bouquets so let’s call it a night…Please feel free to take your arrangements home with you…you can keep them for yourselves, give them to someone else-”

Something Sharon had muttered while Jinkx was speaking earned her a quick elbow in the ribs but as soon as Courtney stood up to help clean off the table, a slender hand wrapped around hers and began leading her to the door.

“Bill!” she called out in indignation as she tried to dig in her heels, “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking my bouquet home with me,” she replied back firmly.

At once Courtney felt her cheeks growing hot again, particularly as she saw the determination and nervousness in Willam’s eyes. She was being dead serious in her statement but still she left an opening for Courtney to decline. For a brief moment it felt like the world had stopped as Courtney gazed into her eyes and saw both the hope and fear lurking behind her hard exterior. She hardly recognized the meek, 'Okay’ that had fallen past her lips until Willam was once again guiding her out of the shop. She called out a quick 'Good luck’ to Katya and followed Willam back to her car.

There was little doubt Katya would inform of her of what would happen with Trixie so for now she allowed herself to push that thought out of her mind. As the pair drove through the city, Courtney took notice of the way Willam’s hands were shaking as she gripped the steering wheel. It was all very reminiscent of that night Courtney had caught her in the midst of a make-out session with a woman for the first time.

The blonde absently chewed on the interior of her lip as she tried not to over-analyze the situation just yet. Just because Willam had used certain flowers over others in her hair doesn’t mean that attracted to Courtney…Why would she be? They were polar opposites in most respects. They bickered like crazy at times and even fought worse than a number of couples she knew. Sure, they might kiss each other at night before they go to sleep and again when they wake up and maybe they’ve spent more nights than not wrapped up in each others arms…And just maybe Willam as of late has rebuked any form of sexual contact with other people but that didn’t mean that she was actually attracted to Courtney…right?

By the time they pulled up to Willam’s building complex, Courtney’s head felt close to exploding as she ran through all of the scenarios for how this night could end. She had hardly realized the car had stopped until she heard Willam’s quiet voice, “Court…I-”

Daring to take a chance, she mustered up her courage and interrupted in a hurried tone, “Can we go inside?”

“Um, sure,” the stunned dirty blonde replied as she turned off the car.

The walk was silent but each could hear their heartbeat echoing in their ears as they slowly made their way into Willam’s apartment. Courtney prayed that she wasn’t reading the situation wrong as she followed Willam past the door frame. Almost as soon as the door was shut, Willam began again with an unusual hesitance, “Listen, Court…”

“The flowers,” Courtney asked softly, barely able to look at her friend even as she stood only a foot in front of her, “You chose them for a reason…didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Willam replied vaguely as her fingers trembled by her side.

“Just maybe?” Courtney challenged as she forced herself to look Willam in the eye and wrap her hands around one of Willam’s.

The dirty blonde’s gaze flickered down to the clinging grip then back up to meet Courtney’s inquiring expression. Very slowly, she found herself leaning in leaving more than enough opportunity for the blonde to pull away or reject her. Stopping within an inch of their lips touching, she gave a hesitant admittance of, “Maybe more than maybe.”

“Yeah?” Courtney asked hopefully as a smile grew across her face.

Returning the smile for a single second, Willam closed the gap with an almost feather-light brush of her lips against Courtney’s. She held herself there for a moment debating if she should press her luck further until Courtney made the decision for her. Their lips danced together in a way that was so practiced yet still so unique from any other kiss they had shared. It was as though every concealed emotion had bubbled to the surface and forced itself to be played out as they worked their mouths in synchrony. Willam’s free hand wound itself in what it could of Courtney’s hair, unwilling to let her draw back until there wasn’t a single bit of air left between them.

Once they were forced to break apart, Willam finally confirmed in a breathy voice, “Definitely more than maybe.”

It wasn’t the most eloquent declaration of attraction but god, it’ll work for now.

Courtney could hardly contain the joyful smile that stretched across her face. Almost at once she reconnected their lips and let every ounce of passion she felt be poured into the new kiss. Willam was stunned by the sudden forwardness but quickly gave Courtney the access she was so desperately seeking. For a few moments they stayed in that spot, simply just letting everything be expressed by that one action, but soon enough Courtney decided that she wanted show Willam so much more tonight.

Carefully taking a step back, Courtney pulled Willam along in the direction of the bedroom until the dirty blonde finally understood what she was implying. The kiss was broken only for a moment to catch their breath then like magnets they were drawn back into each other’s hold. Willam took the lead in navigating their way to her bedroom, doing her best to avoid any miscellaneous furniture or dirty laundry left lying about.

Before they even made it to the edge of the mattress, most of their own clothing joined the various piles on the floor until very little fabric remained to separate their bare skin from one another. While Courtney scooted her way onto the bed, Willam hovered closely over top of her to reaffirm through their broken kisses, “Are we really doing this?”

“Yes,” Courtney asserted. “As long as you want to, too.”

There wasn’t even a pause before Willam’s hurried response came back, “Fuck yeah…”

With that understanding, Courtney allowed Willam to crowd her down to the mattress as light fingers dragged themselves across her skin. Willam’s mouth soon left hers to travel up and down the side of her neck, never settling in one place for too long before continuing further down her chest. Upon meeting the cherry blossom pink bra Courtney still had on, a small noise of annoyance fell from Willam’s lips. She toyed with one of the straps for just a moment before setting her hands to work at removing the offending article.

Once it was gone, Willam’s mouth quickly returned to leaving a dusting of kisses down Courtney’s chest. She felt her head falling back as Willam swirled her tongue around one of her nipples, sucking gently before lapping at the growing bud. The dirty blonde’s hand found its way to Courtney’s other breast, massaging it expertly as she continued to work her mouth until Courtney was squirming in place. Before long she had switched sides and left Courtney all but whimpering for more contact.

Reluctantly, Willam forced herself to resume her journey down Courtney’s stomach but it was at this point the Aussie decided she had enough. With little warning, she flipped them over so that Willam was the one beneath her and Courtney could take back some of the control for herself. A smirk made its way to Willam’s face as she easily pushed herself into a seated position and pulled Courtney firmly into her lap. Almost at once Willam’s arms were wrapped around the older woman’s waist as Courtney’s own rested loosely across Willam’s shoulders in order tug gently at the dirty blonde hair as needed. They shared a brief kiss but after a few seconds Courtney broke the contact in order to leave her own trail of kisses across Willam’s skin. Setting herself on the pulse point, Courtney marked Willam just enough for her to find what she hoped would be a decent sized love bite tomorrow. It would be highly visible the following day; just dark enough that she would need make up to cover it if she chose to do so but Courtney loved the fact that she was finally able to claim Willam as her own after waiting for so long.

Satisfied with her work, Courtney resumed tracing her lips across the overheated skin. She was grinding herself into Willam’s lap hoping the dirty blonde would take the hint and give her what she needed. A hand left her waist to graze deceivingly soft fingertips across her inner thigh but they always stopped short of the one place she wanted to feel them. The most Willam would give her was a light brush against the hem of her panties but even then she would draw back after only a second.

The blonde let out a noise of impatience as she nipped Willam’s neck just enough to make her jump. Undeterred, Willam made no further action and Courtney was left to rut her hips again, silently begging Willam for more. Even before Courtney had pulled away to look, she could hear the smirk in Willam’s voice as she feigned innocence in asking, “What?”

A lone finger was finally running along the thin fabric of her panties but it was nowhere near enough pressure for Courtney. Trying her best not to sound like a desperate and needy mess, Courtney urged her on with an demanding, “More.”

To her exasperation only one more digit was added but still Willam made no motion to remove the remaining underwear. She seemed content just to taunt Courtney through the fabric as she slowly came apart in her lap. Glaring at the dirty blonde, Courtney whined, “That’s not what I meant.”

Unashamedly smug, Willam captured her lips again, flicking her tongue across the seam as she pulled away to order in a hushed tone, “Then tell me what you want me to do…Come on, princess. Use your words like a good girl.”

Despite every effort not to react, Courtney found her breath hitching at the phrasing and she stopped all movement as a light flush rose to her cheeks. The response didn’t go unnoticed by Willam, not in the least. Skimming her lips across Courtney’s collarbone, she teased, “Oh? You like it when I call you that now, huh?”

The blonde was shaking just slightly in her hold as she admitted softly, “Yes…”

She expected Willam to reply back with some sort of taunting remark but to her surprise all she received was a simple, “Good.”

Almost at once her panties were pushed off to the side just enough to allow Willam’s fingers to run along her inner folds. It was still a far cry what she really needed but at this point any change was welcomed from before. She could already feel the heat beginning to pool in her core as she ground down against the two digits. Willam allowed this only for a few minute or two as she laid claim to Courtney’s lips once more. Small noises of restlessness escaped from the blonde’s mouth to Willam’s but she still seemed perfectly fine with just teasing her partner.

Every now and then Courtney felt a soft circling against her clit causing a small jolt to resonate through her body but all too quickly it would be gone and she’d be left to whine at the loss. By the time the pair tore their lips from one another, Courtney was left breathless and embarrassingly wet from what very little Willam had done to her. She could feel herself coming undone while Willam stayed perfect put together and in control of everything that was happening.

Giving in to the ache for more, Courtney tugged just slightly at Willam’s hair and pleaded, “More…please, Bill.”

She could see Willam dying to comply to the request but to her annoyance, the younger woman restrained herself from providing anything right away. Instead she just breathed out, “Tell me, princess…Tell me what you want me to do.”

Her lips were so close to Courtney’s again, she could practically feel them as they ghosted against hers with each passing word. Willam’s free hand traveled up her back until it made contact with the loose and probably very messy braid. Willam deftly pulled the tie out and tossed it aside it order to run her fingers through Courtney’s hair. Flowers fell onto the bed behind her but she hardly had the capacity to care about that. Her focus was on Willam’s nonchalant statement of, “I can wait all night if I have to, angel.”

The newest nickname finally broke what remained of Courtney’s silence. Resting her forehead to Willam’s, she pressed their lips together for one sweet moment before swallowing what was left of her nerves in order to beg, “Please, I want you inside me…I want it so bad. I-”

Here Willam cut her off with another kiss as her fingers withdrew from between Courtney’s legs. She groaned at the loss until Willam silenced her objection with a commanding, “Take these off. Now.”

Courtney wasted little time in complying, hardly leaving Willam’s lap for more than a few seconds to shimmy out of her last piece of clothing before swiftly settling herself back into place. She felt so small and submissive as Willam still remained somewhat dressed but the appearance of two fingers in front of her lips soon changed that. Holding onto Willam’s wrist, she drew the fingers into her mouth and began to give them a thorough coating with her tongue. She hardly felt like she needed it at this point but the way Willam watched with hazy eyes as she worked more than made up for the further delay.

By the end she might have made the display a little more obscene than she ought to as she sucked on the digits and dragged her tongue anywhere it could reach but Willam certainly wasn’t complaining. She let the show go on much longer than necessary before drawing her fingers back from one heat to another.

As the first digit slipped inside, Courtney let out a sigh of much needed relief. It was finally happening and the anticipation and previous denial only made the moment so much sweeter for her. Already this situation was turning into everything she had wanted it to be.

A second finger was soon added and both crooked inside her as they avoided that one particular spot for now. Willam busied herself with placing fresh kisses across Courtney’s shoulders, chest, and neck as the digits dragged their way in and out at a slow and steady pace. Courtney was pushing her hips insistently against Willam’s hand as her panting began to pick up. A light sheen was breaking out across her forehead as little mewls clawed their way from her throat to Willam’s awaiting ears.

Just as Courtney had opened her mouth to lick at her overly dry lips, she felt the first brush against her g-spot and a small whimper filled the room. She found herself begging for Willam to repeat that motion and to her relief the compliance was almost immediate. As Courtney’s moans starting to pick up, so did Willam’s fingers. It was like a nonverbal reward system; the louder Courtney became, the more insistent the pressure and speed of Willam’s digits became.

Every now and then Courtney found Willam whispering a few words of encouragement in the few seconds she was able to pull her mouth away from Courtney’s skin.

“You sound so beautiful, angel.”

“Let the neighbors hear you, let them know who’s making you scream.”

“Tell me anything you want, princess.”

Each call of either 'princess’ or 'angel’ produced a new wave of whimpering from Courtney. She could feel the pleasure building up until her hands were gripping onto Willam’s shoulders so tightly her knuckles had begun to turn white. Her nails were digging into the dirty blonde’s skin but she didn’t seem to care about anything other than Courtney’s pleas for more.

At her request a third finger was added to the slick heat. With another, a hand was pulling on her hair just so as her neck arched back. Then finally Willam’s mouth was working against hers until she barely able to breath between everything that was happening to her.

It was the casual, almost careless circling of Willam’s thumb against her clit that drove home the fact that Courtney wouldn’t last much longer. Her ruts against Willam’s fingers were no longer in sync and soon she felt the pressure in her core reaching its capacity. She gave Willam a quick warning before burying herself into the crook of her neck and closing her eyes as the sensation washed over her. It was so overpowering that Courtney couldn’t stop herself from shaking as her senses became so overwhelmed and a voice she hardly recognized as her own was calling Willam’s name. It took even longer still to realize the dirty blonde was once again praising how pretty she looked as she came and of course peppering in a nickname or two as a shiver passed through the blonde.

The moment she was able to organize her thoughts Courtney crashed her lips back to Willam’s. The dirty blonde was eagerly responding, barely even noticing Courtney’s frantic hands working on removing her bra until it was all but hanging from a single strap. The second it was gone, Courtney lips were replacing it. If anything she was more erratic than Willam had been as her lips traced across every inch of exposed skin she could find. She wanted to touch and taste Willam, to repay her for everything she had just experienced and of course, to finally indulge in those secret fantasies that lurked in the back of her mind during those nights they had spent together.

Her hands were massaging and kneading Willam’s breasts, hardly able to decide where she wanted to be before her mouth was switching from side to another with little to no warning. Willam’s eyes had gone hooded as Courtney covered her skin so thoroughly with her lips it felt like no part of her had been left untouched.

Moving from Willam’s lap, Courtney repositioned herself as best she could on the bed to continue her path down to Willam’s lean and toned stomach. The position was slightly awkward for the time being, at least until Courtney convinced her scoot closer to the edge.

Immediately Willam realized what Courtney was intending to do as she slid to the floor and reaffirmed that she was alright with going this far. Her mind was flashing back to Courtney’s previous admittance of not having done very much with women before and the absolute last thing she wanted to do, especially right now, was have Courtney feel like this was something she had to reciprocate with.

But Courtney was determined either way. It might not be her area of expertise but she wanted to do this. She wanted to repay Willam and she wanted to gain that experience. After all Willam had done for her, the very least she wished for was for Willam to feel just as good.

“It’s not going to be mind-blowing,” she warned, “but I’ll give it my best shot.”

All Willam could do was nod weakly as Courtney guided her hand to her hair and spread Willam’s legs apart. It was here that Courtney finally slowed down and began to take her time with the dirty blonde. Not to tease her, just to explore her body as she became familiar with this new adventure.

She pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs and across the sensitive skin of her hips. Willam was struggling not twitch or otherwise alarm Courtney with any sudden movements. Stroking the wavy blonde hair, occasionally pulling out the flowers as she found them, helped to keep herself in check. The wide eyes staring up at her sent a bubbling warmth to her stomach that left her feeling both anxious yet still craving for more.

Courtney’s fingers hooked around her panties and with a little maneuvering she was able to slid them off and onto the floor. There was a tense pause as Courtney’s eyes flickered up to meet Willam’s and she slowly began leaning in. Willam’s breath caught in her throat as she felt those delicate hands running against her thighs and spreading her just a little bit wider. All at once it was like a sudden wave came crashing down on her as a tentative lick ran against her slit.

She bit her lip to force back any noise that might try to escape but nothing could be done to stop the rising blood to her cheeks. Her fingers twitched in Courtney’s hair as another more confident swipe of the blonde’s tongue passed along her folds. Their eyes remained connected as Courtney slowly grew more deliberate in her actions, trying new techniques to see what kind of reaction they would evoke from Willam. It was far from experienced but damn if the enthusiasm didn’t make up for it.

With her mind beginning to cloud, Willam wasn’t sure if her voice was actually wavering or not as she murmured, “Good girl…Just like that.”

Courtney hummed something in response and the resulting vibrations had Willam biting her lip once more. If she were standing, her legs would have been shaking at the sight alone of Courtney in front of her doing this.

“K-Keep going, princess, you’re doing so good,” she cooed encouragingly.

Though there was no verbal response, Willam could tell from the crinkling around Courtney’s eyes that praise was really working on her. All of her energy was focused on eating Willam out like it was her job and clearly she was taking pleasure in reducing the dirty blonde to as much of a hot mess as she had been just minutes before.

Willam was being drawn closer and closer to edge yet it still remained just far enough out of her reach that it was starting to become frustrating. She wanted her release more than anything and was desperately chasing it anyway she could manage as she continued to whisper sweet compliments to Courtney.

“Use your thumb,” she suggested softly as she teetered just on the brink of completely losing it.

The words were barely past her lips before she felt the circular rubbing against her clit. She had been so close before that moment that it only took a few complete cycles before she was coming apart under Courtney’s touch. As the climax racked through her body, Courtney kept at her pace until she felt the hand in her hair carefully pushing her away. Taking the hint she withdrew from between Willam’s legs and crawled back onto the bed beside her. She was just getting settled amongst the sheets when she felt Willam pulling her close and crashing their lips back to another.

While Willam took charge once again, making sure to lick her way thoroughly into Courtney’s mouth, she had to admit that still being able to taste herself on Courtney’s tongue was more of a turn on than she thought was fair. One of the Aussie’s hands found its way to her cheek, cradling her gently as though she were the most fragile object in the world. It just felt so right to have Courtney’s body melded into hers, she almost never wanted to leave the bed again in favor of making this moment last forever. But eventually the desire for cleanliness won out and the pair made their into the bathroom to share a quick shower. Admittedly there had been more stolen kisses than actual washing but neither had a negative word to say regarding that.

Following their bare minimum cleaning, the pair changed into some of Willam’s clothes and slipped back into bed with their phones in hand. Seems that while they were busy, most of the other girls had been as well.

Courtney found her inbox blown up with messages from both Katya, Violet, and surprisingly Sharon as well. It was almost expected that Katya felt the need to inform Courtney of everything that had happened after she left the shop. The sheer amount of texts was almost daunting until Courtney realized the majority were very simple phrases, including but not limited to; 'Oh my god!’

'We’re actually talking! Like normal people!’

'I think this counts as a date.’

'This is definitely a date!’

'OMG, what do I do?’

'Fuck! Why did I say that?’

'She’s laughing!’

'Damn she has an awful laugh….I love it.’

'She invited me back to her place!’

'I’m going to be late coming home.’

And then finally the last text had come through not even a full eight minutes prior; 'I’m not coming home tonight.’

Courtney couldn’t help but to chuckle as she read through the messages and probably very accurately pictured all the expressions Katya must have worn as she typed out each quick update. With some of the more colorfully phrased texts, Courtney read them aloud as Willam scrolled through her own inbox. Though she didn’t say anything, Courtney noticed a small relieved smile on Willam’s face as Courtney summarized how Katya’s date seemed to have gone.

Coming upon the end of her own inbox review, Willam asked, “Did you see Violet’s picture?”

Courtney shook her head stating she hasn’t made it that far through her messages yet but would look for it next. Unable to wait for Courtney to find it on her own, Willam extended her phone out to the blonde. The picture had already been blown up to cover the screen and immediately Courtney recognized the interior of the shop.

Taken from only a few feet away, it seems Violet saw an opportunity to sneak a picture of Sharon and Jinkx and had not let the moment go to waste. Sharon was working on her bouquet as Jinkx hung close by on the opposite side of the table. They must have been talking because both were gazing at each other with nothing but pure affection on their faces; the kind you never really notice yourself until someone points it out. Both of them just looked so focused on one another that they were oblivious to everything else around them, particularly Ivy who appearing to be in the midst of dropping some broken stems in the background behind them.

Courtney felt a joyful grin stretching across her lips as she returned to her own phone in order to take a look at the messages from the blonde in question.

“Do you think anything’ll actually happen with them?” Willam asked as she continued to smile warmly at the image on the screen.

Courtney thought to herself for a moment as she opened an attachment in Sharon’s most recent message and found her answer already supplied for her. The grin she wore was alarmingly bright as she all but pushed her phone into Willam’s hand and replied, “Yeah, I think so.”

The dirty blonde’s gaze dropped to the new image and immediately a matching smile appeared on her face. Though the picture was very simple, it gave both of the women hope that everything had in fact worked out for their friends. At the very foreground of the image were two To-Go cups of coffee and scribbled on the sides were Jinkx and Sharon’s names. That alone would not have raised any eyebrows but what caught Courtney and Willam’s attention lurked just at the border of the image; half cut off by the angle of the camera, the two could just make out a pair of hands locked together with intertwining fingers. It was a small guess as to who they belonged to and what that gesture was implying.

“Can’t wait to see what Sharon’ll have to say about that tomorrow,” Willam mentioned in amusement.

Placing her phone off on the nightstand, Courtney nestled into Willam’s side and admitted, “I’m just glad one of them finally made a move…It was getting frustrating just watching them dance around each other like that.”

“Yeah,” Willam agreed absently as she drifted off into her own thoughts. She stayed disturbingly silent for a full minute as Courtney traced mindless patterns over her outer thigh. Deciding she ought to do the right thing, Willam spoke up hesitantly, “Hey, um…I need to tell you something before we…go any further with this.”

Turning her head up to look Willam in the eye, Courtney did her best to hide a growing sense of concern as she replied mildly, “Okay…”

Swallowing heavily, Willam began again with nerves tinging her voice, “When…back when we had our…fight…I kind of…”

“Yeah?” Courtney asked as her brows began to bunch up in worry.

“I did something that I think…I think you should know about,” Willam admitted tensely.

Trying her best to remain calm and not jump to any conclusion, Courtney inquired, “What is it?”

“I…I was pissed at you and I tried to-I kissed Sharon! And if she hadn’t said 'no’, I would have gone much further than that. I’m sorry!” Willam confessed in sudden outburst of emotion. “I’m really sorry for what I said that day and for kissing her and trying to get back at you and-”

“Willam,” Courtney interrupted as she placed a hand over Willam’s forearm in order draw her attention back from her own shame. “It’s okay.”

Willam seem unconvinced, chewing her lip as she continued to stare guiltily down at Courtney. Vaguely the blonde wondered just how much this had been eating away at her but that question wasn’t the one she needed answered. Pressing a quick kiss to Willam’s cheek for reassurance, she asked seriously, “Can you forgive me for sleeping with Katya?”

Immediately the dirty blonde was nodding her head as her fingers toyed with a damp curl hanging across her shoulder. Pulling that same hand into hers, Courtney informed her quite sincerely, “Then of course I can forgive you for kissing Sharon…”

A relieved smile broke out across Willam’s face and though there still seemed to be some disbelief that Courtney was okay with everything she had been told, Willam let the subject drop. They pulled each other in for a final heartfelt kiss as fatigue began to catch up with them. Pulling away, Willam stated quietly, “We were both so stupid.”

“We were…” Courtney agreed with a smile. “But I’m still glad this-that we happened.”

Returning the smile, Willam placed a soft kiss to the corner of Courtney mouth and murmured, “Yeah, me too.”

#rpdr fanfiction #albatross #the language of flowers #shillam #shinkx #witney #trixya #one sided jivy #vatya #courtney x katya #courtney act #jinkx monsoon #willam belli #sharon needles #ivy winters #katya zamolodchikova #violet chachki #smut #lesbian au #fluff #flowershop au

[jackkel-dragon]

I was curious about: First, which is your less preffered character of the original 5 from the pc 98 corpse party and why?. Secondly, ( if you don't want to answer it , i understand it) which are your preferred pairings in corpse party?. Thirdly: any idea if you will continue CP D2 Dragon mask?

I’m not sure I can single out a specific least favorite character from the original group… They all feel fairly well developed considering the relative complexity of the game. The best I can think of is that I wouldn’t want to be in a group with the Mochida siblings if I were in that situation. Yuka’s spoiled upbringing means she’d be the hardest to get along with in a survival scenario, and the game heavily implies that Satoshi might have anger problems (with two chances to get locked into the C route, where he gets angry to the point of nearly killing his friends).

It’s been a while since I really thought of pairings/shipping for Corpse Party, so I don’t know if I have any “preferred” pairings. If anything, I tend to end up thinking of crack pairings. Like the times I wrote multi-chapter stories about Yoshiki/Naho and Seiko/Sakutaro, and some subtle crack ship teasing in the CPD2 games. One of the few serious ones I remember is Emi/Tohko, since I wrote a number of scrapped stories about that pairing.

As for the Dragon Mask… that’s a bit of a can of worms. The short answer is “I’m not sure if I’ll get back to it.” I have the whole story outlined, but I hesitate to put the effort in to actually write the script. And unless an artist volunteers, it’ll remain a glorified text adventure with music. I’m a bit afraid to go into details about why I’m not sure I’ll continue, but since someone asked, maybe I should at least give some of the reasons. I just worry about how my reasoning looks to others…

At any rate, details under a read more cut. It might get long.

The longer answer to whether I’ll finish the Dragon Mask partially involves how well the CPD2 games have done overall. And the numbers (based on download counts per day since a game’s release)… aren’t great for the Dragon Mask. Here’s a simple rundown of the download popularity percentages, using Depths of Despair as the baseline (100%):

Depths of Despair: 100%Fatal Operation: 64%Zero Hope: 15%The Dragon Mask: 8%Depths of Despair -Nightmare Edition-: 19%

To be fair, there are a number of factors here:- Depths of Despair is a complete game, the others are demos.- Zero Hope focuses on minor characters and original characters.- The Dragon Mask is not story-complete.- The Depths of Despair remake has none of its final art and is less known than the original.

Even so, there’s was a MASSIVE drop-off of interest in the CPD2 games as the series went on. Whenever I see people talk about the games at all these days, it’s about Depths of Despair and maybe Fatal Operation. The other three pretty much don’t exist. (For reference, the first two games got VNDB and TVTropes pages without any input from me, and they each have multiple Let’s Play series on YouTube. I had to make Zero Hope’s page on TVTropes with a friend.)

The obvious counterargument here is that I should finish the game for myself and the people who are interested in the game. I hadn’t planned on Depths of Despair getting as big as it did, after all. However, it’s become difficult to get motivated to write without an audience, especially after my original ebooks flopped. At this point, I’ve pretty much “put all my eggs in one basket” hoping that Eldritch Academy will do well. So a lot of my focus is on trying to get that finished and plan out my future projects, which makes working on a fan project feel awkward.

I won’t say that I will never finish the Dragon Mask… but I can’t really make any promises about it either. It’d be easier to convince myself to finish it if I felt like it would have an audience beyond a dozen or so people, but I’ve seen enough bad creators beg for views/comments/etc. that I’m afraid to ask for more than I already get. I’m also still trying to get my original stories off the ground, so I doubt I’d do much more for CPD2 until at least Eldritch Academy is done.

Anyway, I hope that helps to answer the question. I can’t help but feel I rambled a bit, but hopefully it was informative.

#ask #corpse party #cpd2

[ennergetics]

FILLED REQUEST: the manual, a young love! park jihoon au

(image credit)

pairing: park jihoon x reader genre: fluff, angst wordcount: 2779 summary: Park Jihoon has always done things by the book. When your life intertwines with his, he finds himself wishing there were a manual for love. warnings: none (as per the request, this is vaguely inspired by eddy kim’s the manual! cross-posted on ao3.) 

The first time Park Jihoon really notices you is when you leave a note in his locker, asking to see him in your classroom after class hours. You’re both freshmen at Seoul’s premium performing arts high school, and barely two months of the school year have passed. Jihoon already dreads the awkward confrontation, but is too polite—and too unwilling to make enemies—to turn you down.

“Park Jihoon,” you say, your ears blazing red, “I like you.”

He asked around about you before coming here, finding the typical background: kid from the provinces, looking for a company to enter as a trainee, multi-talented. Unlike most of the others, however, you take your studies seriously, and naturally attract the other academically inclined students in your class. Bossy, blunt, and forward—not really words to describe an idol personality.

“Um,” he says, trying to find the words to say. You’re watching him with a calculating look on your face, and he swears you can see right through the bullshit consoling words he’s about to spout. Instead, he says, “I think we’d be great friends.”

And you shrug, closing your eyes before smiling at him. “It was worth a shot. You mean it?” Jihoon is surprised to find he does, that in a school full of fake smiles and soulless civility, your honesty is refreshing. When he nods, you come closer and shake his hand to seal the deal.

It’s awkward at first, especially when you join Jihoon at the lunch table where he normally eats alone. “Why’d you confess to me when we’ve barely said two words to each other?” Jihoon says, tact thrown to the wind. You don’t seem to mind, shrugging as if you hadn’t been a blushing mess the day before.

“You’re driven, charming, and cute,” you say. “What’s not to like?”

“And this isn’t weird for you?” he says carefully, poking at his food. While he's well-liked, he doesn't really have anyone whom he can trust. 

You laugh, reaching out to pat his hand. “It’d be a loss to me if we weren’t friends just because of a little crush. You’re sweet, Jihoonie. Don’t worry; I’m over it.”

As the year goes on, you end up partnering together for most of your projects, since both of you are taking the same major. By far, the two of you are the most competent at your majors in your year—Jihoon helps you with your acting classes, and you’re a stricter vocal coach than the one the school provides.

It’s easy for the two of you to slip into a routine, your training calendars syncing complementarily. It helps that you’re still in the audition process at a lot of different companies, so you can pick up his slack as a trainee. With a joint set of online notes, keeping up with different class material is simple, and any time you spend preparing for practical tests are moments for you to tutor him in math or for him to explain chemical reactions to you.

Both of you live at the school’s dorms, your roommates out often to do promotions. Jihoon’s room becomes your favourite study place, particularly because it’s big enough for you to practice dance routines. By your second term, you’ve practically moved in, the late nights cramming for yet another project ending with you asleep in his absent roommate’s bed.

Jihoon slips in and out of classes more often, the company he’s with telling him he’s likely to debut with a new group. You’re constantly texting him encouragement, taking pictures of the whiteboard in classes and the black bean noodles you’ll both eat as soon as he’s back from training. He finds himself missing you, though he never says so. Jihoon’s never been good at finding the right words to say, not the type to express emotions unless it’s necessary.

One day, he enters his room with a grim expression on his face. Immediately, you ask what’s wrong, and he hands you an envelope with x-rays of his knee.

“I can’t debut,” he says, his fists clenched tightly at his side. Without a word, you hug him, and for the first time since his short stint as an actor, Jihoon lets someone else see him cry, ugly sobs wracking his body as he pulls you close. The smell of your cucumber melon shampoo is comforting, and later, when he calms down, you hold his face in your hands.

“Not yet, you hear? ‘Can’t debut’ yet,” you say fiercely, looking into his eyes.

After that, something changes between you two, a subtle shift he can’t really identify. Your friendship becomes more tactile, you leaning on him whenever you’re on his bed watching choreography videos on your laptop, him resting his chin on your shoulder when you’re catching him up on what he’s missed.

It’s after a good day for both of you—he’s just signed with Maroo Entertainment, and you’ve gotten shortlisted as a trainee at two companies—that you decide to go out. You’re both done with your homework for the next day, and the guards are fond of you and unlikely to rat you out. You leave during study period right after lunch, and both of you rent out bikes for the afternoon, a welcome break from the tedium of school and work life.

You’re at a field near the school, the sun about to set, when you look over at him with a grin. “I’m grateful for the excellent chicken at lunch, the scenery we just saw, the companies who might be willing to accept my talents, and you,” you say, stretching your hands in the air. “What are you thankful for, Jihoonie?”

He considers for a moment before responding. “For Maroo and the chicken, yeah.” You push him playfully. “And you, I guess,” he says, smirking. As you bike back to school, Jihoon feels like he could fly.

It becomes a ritual for the two of you, and you end every night with a short list of what you’re grateful for. Not every day is as pleasant—both companies ultimately reject you, and you grow frustrated at having to start the search all over again. Jihoon’s fate is still in limbo at Maroo, as they’re unable to find a group that fits him. Somehow, though, saying thank you for something every day keeps him positive. Jihoon tells himself you’re only marginally to do with it, but he can’t help how much space you’ve carved for yourself in his heart.

Soon it’s your second year, and Jihoon begins to have a reputation at school, rejecting confessions left and right with a polite smile. With you, he expresses his frustration that they all see him as this perfect prince. You shrug, saying, “You’re building that image and it comes with it, Jihoonie. Only I know how much of a bastard you really are.”

You laugh and he groans, but he feels pleasantly warm. Jihoon takes comfort in that, that there’s someone who remembers he’s still a teenager, someone who’ll let him be awkward, who’ll critique him when he’s trying to come up with a memorable concept for himself and laugh in his face when he says something cringe-worthy. He almost dreads the day you’ll have less time for him, selfishly wanting to keep you to himself.

Jihoon thinks he’s jinxed it because soon you’re coming to him with a bright grin on your face, talking a mile a minute about how you’ve been signed at a hip-hop company like you’ve dreamed. They’ve made you sign a non-disclosure agreement about the details, but he can tell it’s a company that’ll take care of you. You’re out more often, and Jihoon sees you less and less because you’re always at trainings.

You come back with stories about the other trainees. “They’re really so amazing,” you say breathlessly, “like I’ve never seen so much talent condensed in so little space.” There’s a light in your eyes as you describe a particular one. “He was really shy at first, but he’s hilarious and so, so talented, especially when he dances!”

And Jihoon knows that look; it’s the same one you’d shot at him right before you confessed to him, hopeful and sweet. He can’t help but feel jealous, and it’s ridiculous because you’re much better friends now. He’s deeply involved in your life, as you are in his, and he knows he’s your best friend, the one who rejected your feelings at the beginning of it all.

But over the year he’s known you, Jihoon’s grown attached to the sound of your voice, to the warmth of your embrace, to the casual finger hearts you send his way when you feel him looking at you. You’re dear to him, he knows, and he might even like you that way. The problem, he knows, is that he’s not like you—he’s not a risk-taker. The thought of what might happen to your friendship if he says anything to change the balance you have now, the thought of not seeing you in his room at the end of every grueling day: these thoughts scare him.

You’re at your typical Saturday night haunt, a small coffeeshop that’s often empty besides the two of you, when Jihoon tells you the news that he’s been struggling to keep a secret from you. “There’s this show that I’ll be joining,” he says, his voice muffled by the mask he’s wearing. “It’s a popularity competition that’ll form a group of eleven at the end.”

“Is this Produce101?” you say quietly, looking at him. When he nods, your face breaks into a smile, and you reach out to take his hand. “That’s an amazing opportunity, Jihoon! I’ll be voting for you every day! When does it start?”

He fiddles with your fingers, his face apologetic. “Filming starts tomorrow. That’s why I really wanted to meet you today. Are you mad?”

“A little bit,” you say with a frown. “Now I can’t send you off with a cake or anything. Have you packed? We’re going to my house and I’m making you a care package with the snacks you’ve filled my fridge with!”

You spend the rest of the night in your room, talking about everything and nothing. Jihoon feels the ball of nerves in his stomach loosen a little in your presence, and he can’t help but stay out a little later than he’d promised the agency. Too soon, he asks for permission to leave, and you walk with him to your main door.

“Jihoon,” you say, pulling him close. In the dim light of your hallway, he can barely make out your features, but he looks anyway, trying to memorize the face he won’t be seeing for months. “You’ll kill it, okay? I have absolute faith in you.” You kiss him lightly on the cheek. “A good luck charm from the wicked witch of the School of Performing Arts,” you murmur, and Jihoon is glad that you can’t see him blush.

The next few weeks go by like a blur. Jihoon dives into it whole-heartedly, trying not to check his phone except in the shower, where there are no cameras. He knows exactly what the stakes are, what kind of image he needs to protect. Still, your silly texts and encouraging words are like quick moments that let him be himself.

[7:42 am] wow my best friend is a visual I CALLED IT FIRST

[9:05 pm] jihoonie let the kkukkukkakka die wat were u thinkin

[4:32 pm] VOTING FOR U!!!!!! u were the best in ur team obvs

Distance from you is more difficult than he thought it would be. You’ve wormed your way into his life deeper than he expected, and he misses the way you roll your eyes whenever someone says something awful, the random cute post-its you’d leave on his bed when you wouldn’t be at your shared room. 

You’re in the crowd somewhere during finale night, a presence to comfort Jihoon even as he feels disappointed that he’s second place. He never lets it show on his face, and he wonders if you’ll know. When the cameras are off, he calls you first.

“Hey,” you say, “you’ve made it, winkboy! I’m so proud!” Jihoon says nothing, smiling at the sound of the voice he hadn’t heard in so long.

“Are you bitter you’re not first?” you say shrewdly. Jihoon makes a non-committal noise, hating and loving how easily you read his mind. “You’ve done a great job, Jihoon.” Your tone is soft, a comforting hug through the phone line, and it soothes some of the frustration in his heart. “What’s important is what follows, yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he says, the first thing he’s muttered since you picked up the line. “They’re giving me the weekend off.”

“Sunday,” you say, “I have stuff to take care of tomorrow.” There’s a guardedness to your tone that makes Jihoon nervous. “I love you, Jihoonie! See you!” His heart skips a beat at your words, and the reality of everything comes crashing down on him. The call ends before he can respond, and all the better.

Park Jihoon plans the Sunday meticulously. Maybe everything didn’t go as planned at Produce101, but your date with him will be perfect. It’ll lead up to his confession, with Jihoon finally admitting to the feelings he’s kept at bay forever.

You spend the first hour at the café, him sitting on the couch beside you as he whispers the things that weren’t caught on camera. You’re more radiant than he remembered, and each smile and laugh you send his way feeds the flame.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” you say, uncharacteristically shy. Warning bells go off in Jihoon’s head, and he’s glad for the mask because it means you can’t see him frown. “Someone from my company asked me out.”

He looks down for a minute, at a loss for words with you for the first time since you’d confessed, all those months ago.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, reading his confusion as anger. Jihoon can tell you’re really nervous about telling him this because normally you can tell exactly what he’s feeling. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, with a calmness he doesn’t really feel. “When do I get to meet this guy?”

You’re still not looking at him. Jihoon realizes with a start that it’s because you’re feeling guilty. “You know him already,” you say softly.

Jihoon connects the dots—hip-hop company, dancer—and figures it out right before you say it.

“I’m sorry I asked Woojinie to keep it from you!” you say, looking at him with your brows furrowed, biting at your lower lip. “I didn’t want to distract you while you were there.”

“Hey,” Jihoon says, “it’s okay. It’s okay. Let me walk you home?”

You’re both quiet as you walk the familiar path. He takes your hand to reassure you that he’s not mad at you, and soon he sees you relax in the corner of his eye. In no time, you’re at your front door, hidden from the world’s prying eyes by your gate.

Jihoon pulls off the mask and smiles at you. “What are you thankful for today?” he says lightly, reminding you of the game you used to play.

“I’m thankful I got to see you today,” you say, listing things out on your fingers, “thankful I got to catch up with you, and thankful you won.” You pause for a bit before saying, “What about you?”

“I’m thankful for you,” Jihoon says simply. You pull him close, and Jihoon closes his eyes, overwhelmed by emotions he can’t describe. He wants to laugh—he never expected you to matter this much to him. The two of you have terrible timing; you were too early, and now he’s too late. He wishes there were some kind of manual, that there were a clean-cut guide on how to fall in love. Instead, there was you, your quips and grins and this warm embrace, invading the carefully protected nooks of his heart.

Still, he knows he wants you in his life, in whatever capacity. Surrounded by your clean scent, Jihoon gathers up the courage to tell you how he feels, whispering into your hair, unsure whether you hear him.

You pull back too soon. “I love you too,” you say, your eyes bright. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah,” he says, and you kiss his cheek before closing the door with a smile. Jihoon keeps his grin on until you’ve closed the door, and only then does he start to think about what he’s lost.

#park jihoon #park jihoon imagines #park jihoon scenarios #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #[tbh i speed wrote this wtf ] #[ so many feels in one sitting ] #w1 #jihoon #jihoon fic #para fic #mywriting #mine

[fyloona]

(INTERVIEW) The all-girl K-pop group with a unique coming together story

LOOΠΔ are a girl group who are ambitiously announcing their 12 members over a string of solo singles – we speak to the members of subunit ODD EYE CIRCLE

A little over a year ago, something big was quietly manifesting on the edges of South Korean pop music with the reveal of HeeJin, a then-15-year-old who was the first person to be announced for a new, 12-member girl group called LOOΠΔ. The process of introducing LOOΠΔ to the world ranks as one of the more ambitious projects undertaken by a single entertainment agency (in this case, Blockberry Creative), with each of the group’s members unveiled not over a matter of weeks but over 18 months. Each girl has a symbolic colour and animal, and each releases a solo pre-debut single and video, interspersed with music by subunits formed of the already-revealed members.

While LOOΠΔ’s multi-pronged announcement strategy might seem hard to wrap your head round, large scale concepts and storylines for girl groups aren’t an anomaly in K-Pop. One only need look back upon T-ara’s 15-minute film around “Cry Cry” and videos like “Lovey Dovey” for precedents, or to newer groups like the J-rock-centric Dreamcatcher and GFriend’s ‘school trilogy’ of music videos. But LOOΠΔ stand apart amongst girl groups and even in the wider K-Pop world for the sheer ambition of their world-building, with each music video knotting another thread into an increasingly complex web of theories and imagery. Only EXO have in recent memory so carefully created a far-reaching origin story.

LOOΠΔ are yet to make their official debut. Right now there are still four members who’ve yet to be revealed – currently HeeJin, HyunJin, HaSeul, ViVi and YeoJin make up the subunit LOOΠΔ ⅓, while Kim Lip, JinSoul and Choerry combine for LOOΠΔ/ODD EYE CIRCLE. For now it’s the latter who have become key purveyors of what’s known as the ‘LOOΠΔVERSE’.  The trio’s solos (Kim Lip’s “Eclipse”, JinSoul’s “Singing in the Rain”, Choerry’s “Love Cherry Motion”) are sleek, compelling cuts of electronic pop, stylistically linked via their MVs (music videos) and tinged with 90s R&B, future bass and Katy Perry-esque vibes respectively. As LOOΠΔ/ODD EYE CIRCLE, they’ve also solidified themselves as one of 2017’s brightest groups, with both their EP Mix & Match (which climbed to #10 on Billboard’s World Chart) and its just-released repackage Max & Match pulling together the boldest elements of their individual songs.

“Chaotic”, “Uncover” and “Starlight” are drenched in unpredictable percussion and spacey synths against the girls’ feathery yet firm vocals, while on “LOONATIC”, they skip beyond familiar turf and channel Grimes’s dream pop. Two singles – the upbeat and assured “Girl Front” and “Sweet Crazy Love” – pile on new and existing visual clues (circular mirrors, maps, their ‘odd’ eyes) and recreate shots from the group’s previous videos.

As they discuss the struggles of debuting and breaking the mold, Choerry (at 16 the youngest of the three) calls their overarching concept “a first”. “It’s new, intriguing, and we’re proud,” she says. “It’s like being in a fairytale.” Open and assiduous for this, their first ever international interview, Kim Lip, JinSoul and Choerry are also feisty, confident and endearingly prone to dissing each other like siblings. Say hello to your new favourite girl group.

You each have a colour and an animal... did you get to choose either?

Kim Lip: The company chose each animal based on each member’s character. When I heard I would be an owl, for a moment I was like, ‘Huh?’, because everyone would want something pretty, like the deer for ViVi or a cat for HyunJin. But I like my symbol animal now. I think it goes well with my solo track.

JinSoul: When we first heard Choerry would be the fruit bat, everyone was surprised because it’s not very girl group-like. But given that Choerry will be going back and forth between both LOOΠΔ ⅓ and the new one coming later, I believe it fits the theory very well.

*full interview under the cut

Theories already abound about multiple dimensions in the LOOΠΔVERSE – one for each sub-unit, including those yet-to-debut – and everyone needs to find each other to debut a whole. Can you give us any hint to the full story?

Kim Lip: There are several theories, but we want to show the process of putting puzzles together through our videos and music. I’ll give you one hint – we’re wearing a band on our wrists based on each of our colours and that band is twisted. People might not have noticed, but ‘Möbius’ is an important hint for LOOΠΔ moving forward.

JinSoul: LOOΠΔ is 12 solos, three units, then the complete group, but I can tell you that this is not the end, rather just a beginning. There could be a new unit with different combinations, for example, HyunJin and I could be a new unit.

It’s unheard of for girl groups to develop narratives that are as complicated and prolonged as yours. What did you think about LOOΠΔ not only having a story but their own world?

Kim Lip: When we first heard about – like, how it would be actualised – we were quite surprised, because normally girl groups would just perform good songs with nice clothes. But as the theory unfolds, even we’ve gotten more curious and we’re finding it enjoyable!

If I said LOOΠΔ has the potential to change the creative landscape for K-Pop girl groups, how would you feel about that?

Kim Lip: It’s definitely a goal we’d like to achieve. Each solo has its own power, and each unit has an independent power rather be a typical unit, then all together we become LOOΠΔ. We want to be like Marvel’s Avengers.

How did each of you join LOOΠΔ? What did your friends and family say when you told them you were to be in an idol group?

Kim Lip: I tried out in so many auditions to find the right agency. I was pretty exhausted. But then my company contacted me through Instagram. I auditioned, made it, and became a trainee. It was challenging to adjust, realising ‘This is what a trainee’s life is like,’ and I spent time worrying about if I’d be able to become a member. But I practiced hard and finally became part of LOOΠΔ. All my family and friends celebrated with me. They were as happy as I was.

JinSoul: I auditioned a lot. I had good opportunities through street casting but didn’t make it through. But, like Lip, our company contacted me through Instagram. My family is very proud, and my friends have been supporting me a lot even before my debut.

Choerry: I participated in a vocal contest and got casted for an audition and became a trainee. My parents didn’t like the idea of me becoming a singer at the beginning, but they support me a lot now and give me the strength to go on.

LOOΠΔ/ODD EYE CIRCLE is said to have ‘strange and mysterious charms’. What’s your strange charm that only your family or friends understand fully?

Choerry: Kim Lip may pretend to be inattentive or indifferent, but actually she always keeps her eyes on others and takes care of them. She has that cold-but-warm charm.

Kim Lip: JinSoul may look cold and have a strong personality but, in fact, she has sloppy charms (makes cute mistakes).

Kim Lip: Choerry has a bright energy and charm to think always positively, even in bad situations.

Your EP has several tracks that really stand out for their ethereal synth pop. Which track seemed most interesting to you at first?

JinSoul: I have affection for all the tracks, but I liked ‘LOONATIC’ especially because it’s a type of genre only we can do in K-Pop.

Choerry: Also, ‘Chaotic’ is a bit masculine, but we’re proud to express it with our voices.

LOOΠΔ/ODD EYE CIRCLE is based around the ‘girl crush’ attitude – what does that mean to you personally?

Kim Lip: Girl crush for me is a complete turning point from (the ‘pure’ image of) LOOΠΔ ⅓.

Choerry: I think it’s a girl who has a strong gaze and who is cool, a girl who approaches proactively and confidently. Girl crush might be difficult to pull off, but I think we’re good at creating a strong appearance, so it fits us. Haha!

Lip, you have a natural authority about you on and off stage. Have you always been this type of confident person?

Kim Lip: When I was little, I was so shy that I couldn’t even get food on my plate at a buffet. When I thought ‘I want to be a singer’ and went to audition, I thought I should become more confident. I tried hard to change my personality so I could become the Kim Lip of now.

What did you emotionally experience while waiting to debut? What was your biggest fear and biggest hope?

JinSoul: Would I really make it to debut? I did my best in everything with many thoughts. In the beginning, I was shy and had low self-esteem, so I was worried if it’d be okay to debut with this talent and visual (appearance). But I was also so excited for my song coming out!

Choerry, you’re still at school... what does the average day look like for you? How do you juggle schoolwork, rehearsing and performing?

Choerry: Normally I wake up at 6am and go to school. When I have a schedule, I attend only morning classes or take a day off, so it’s sad that I don’t have much opportunity to meet with friends.

Now you’re promoting as a trio and spending a lot of time together, what’s something new you’ve discovered about each other?

Kim Lip: I didn’t know when JinSoul was a trainee but, as we’ve lived together, I’ve noticed her sleeping with her eyes open. I thought it was only in the car because it’s quite uncomfortable, but she always sleeps with her eyes open.

JinSoul: Choerry tends to be bloated well in the morning, so when she wakes up, her double eyelid is gone. So in the morning it’s quite different version of Choerry.

Choerry: Lip is very easy-going, that was quite unexpected. But she is surprisingly cleaner than I expected.

source: DAZED

#loona #odd eye circle #jinsoul #kim lip #choerry #t:interview #t:info

[shenanigumi]

F and I for the ask game!

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. Oh dear. I can tell you right now that this isn’t going to be Hakuōki-related, since I haven’t been writing much for it lately, so I’ll come back to this and throw it under a cut. As for the other one—

Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)? Smut, as long as it’s tastefully done. I’m typically more willing to read relatively explicit things than write them myself, though it’s an acquired taste and I have to be in the exact right frame of mind before I read about any anatomical parts or euphemisms.

Now, circling back to the first question…

I’ve been tinkering with a Final Fantasy XV multi-chapter AU lately. The full story won’t see the light of day until at least next year, but here’s an exclusive—and rather long—Sneak Peek. (I’d explain the plot, but it’d take some doing, and the basic premise is revealed in this scene anyway. Suffice it to say it takes place at Luna’s wedding… and that her wedding is not to Noct.)

Lunafreya: Noctis. What are you doing here?Noctis: You invited me. Did you forget?Lunafreya: I invited you only because I thought the Empire would stay its hand and spare Insomnia, and you would attend as an ally in good faith. But you know full well that the treaty failed, and Lucis has fallen. You’ll be in danger for as long as you stay here!Noctis: I’m in danger no matter where I go, thanks to Tenebrae. And besides, I could never miss your wedding. Now, where’s the lucky groom?Lunafreya:  I—I don’t know. You shouldn’t be here, Noctis—!Noctis: But I am. So you might as well dance with me.Lunafreya: You never liked dancing.Noctis: And you never liked the Niffs, but here we are.

[Waltz begins.]

Noctis: How does it feel, marrying a murderer?Lunafreya: Please, Noctis. Blame me if you must, but know that I grieve for Lucis. You must believe—Noctis: What do you know about grief? The Empire killed my father and destroyed my home, and where were you? Trying on your wedding dress? Practicing your vows? Tenebrae betrayed us, and you know it.Lunafreya: Think what you will of me, but the people of Tenebrae are innocent. I ensured that none of them will be asked to lift a finger against Lucis for as long as our treaty remains unbroken. You have my word.Noctis: Yeah, well, you know what the Empire thinks of treaties. Face it, Luna. We’re enemies now.Lunafreya: That cannot be so. As the Oracle, my calling is to ensure the success of the Chosen King. And… if I might ask a single favor, I beg of you to remember that I will do so not only in accordance with my duty, but in accordance with my own wishes.

[Waltz ends. Enter Ardyn, slow clapping it out.]

Ardyn: Marvelously danced despite your clumsy lead, my dear. This must be your former fiancé.Lunafreya: Y-yes.Ardyn: Allow me to introduce myself. Ardyn Izunia, at your service. A pleasure.Noctis: Noctis Lucis Caelum. Pleasure’s all yours.Ardyn: I do hope you didn’t come all this way just to harass my wife over her choice of husband, Highness. Risking life and limb just to give her a piece of your mind? And slipping away from your friends to do it, too. Tsk, tsk.Noctis: You’ve seen them?Ardyn: It seems they’ve been looking for you. They’re worried sick that you might get yourself into trouble. Which you seem to have your heart set on, from the looks of things. Now, be a good boy and run along, won’t you? For their sakes, if not yours.

I cut out all the narrative in between the dialogue, so this is an incomplete picture, but I’m proud of that scene because the tension is through the roof. I mean, Luna’s ex-fiancé turns up at her wedding and dances with her while unfairly calling her out à la Pride and Prejudice (1995 miniseries)? Fucking power move. Anyway, that scene was a lot of fun to write—technically, it’s not even done yet—and I’m actually really excited for this project, even if it’s still just in the beginning stages.

I do have a Final Fantasy sideblog now (@crystalline-lifestream​), so on the off chance that any of you happen to want to know more about my latest bullshit, that’d be the place to ask about it instead of here.

#asked #answered #not hakuōki #thanks so much for asking!! #this post reminded me to edit that scene heh

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Our Room For Real Simple’s Idea House

Earlier this month we took the whole family (dog included!) up to Brooklyn for a few days to put together the space we’ve be designing for this year’s Real Simple Idea House over the past five or so months.

I realize there’s a lot to unpack in that sentence (especially if you missed our podcast episode or Instagram stories about it) so we’ll catch you up right here and show you the *almost* finished space. And explain what’s still left to be done before their big photoshoot for the magazine and tell you about how some last-minute curveballs actually made the room better. And tell you what they do with everything in the house once the idea home is all said & done. That’s a lot of ands, so buckle up because we have a lot to tell ya.

side table | daybed | wallpaper | art | lamp | pillows | quilt | rug | octopus

This is the second year that Real Simple magazine has taken over a home in Brooklyn, assigned each room to a different “designer” (there’s typically a mix of certified interior designers & bloggers & design TV personalities, etc) and then they photograph the finished spaces for their magazine (this one will featured be in their October issue). Here’s last year’s house which we loved following along (especially since our friends Jenny Komenda & Sabrina Soto each got a room in that house.

We were completely surprised & extremely thrilled when they asked us if we wanted to do a room this year – and they assigned us the “guest room/playroom” – which felt just perfect for us (we love multi-function rooms, especially when it involves balancing the needs of both grown-ups and kids… even if the family is imaginary in this case).

light | chairs | table | beanbag | pouf | dresser | shelves | rug | wallpaper

So since March we’ve worked remotely with the Real Simple team to make this room happen. They sent us pictures (like the one below) and measurements and floor plans, we sent back design plans and a mood board and a floor plan and links to each product selection. Everything had to be approved by their editors (they didn’t want a certain space to feel wildly incongruous with any of the other rooms and they also didn’t want duplicate or too-similar items or ideas from space to space) so it was a fascinating puzzle to put together from afar.

Once everything that we ordered had arrived in the room, we spent one marathon day putting things in place and navigating some 11th hour challenges that are inevitable in these types of projects. We didn’t get EVERYTHING completed (most notably our long white curtains were back-ordered so they’ll go up later – which will completely soften that industrial back wall so it looks a lot more like the rest of the room) but it’s around 95% done in these pictures, and the Real Simple crew will get it to full 100% before their photographer comes in.

And yes, those are our son’s feet poking out in the picture above and our daughter is laying on the bed under a blanket. We decided to make this a big family trip – mostly because we wanted to see relatives and friends in the NYC/NJ area while we were up there, but also because we thought it’d be fun for our kids to see us tackle this firsthand. It was basically one big “take your kids to work” adventure, and they both got into it and started suggesting what they’d like (our daughter even sketched out some ideas on her little magnetic drawing tablet), and they both served as “quality control” to make sure the beanbag was comfy and the rug was soft enough to roll on. In short: it was a ton of fun to have them there.

In any of these combo rooms, there can definitely be a range of percentages when it comes to the balance. For example, sometimes people have a playroom with a futon in it and it’s 95% playroom, and 5% guest room (that futon is literally the only guest room-ish thing about it, and it’s used very rarely).

mirror | side table | daybed | wallpaper | art | lamp | poufs | quilt | rug | octopus

In this case, the brief from Real Simple was to make it look mostly like a guest room, so any grown up would walk in and love it and want to sleep there, but to also work in some kids stuff – both hidden (in storage bins, baskets, behind closed drawers, etc) and on display (on open shelves, in lidless baskets, etc). So I’d call this room’s particular percentage 75% guest room & 25% playroom. When you’re tackling a multi-use space like this, do whatever percentage actually works functionally and feels right for your home (remember, this is an imaginary family).

As for pulling this room’s design together, I’ve been obsessed with this daybed for years, so it was the launch point for the whole room as soon as Real Simple said that a single bed was their preference for the space. Picture me punching the air and screaming “I GET TO USE MY DREAM DAYBED!!!!”

light | baskets | daybed | wallpaper | art | poufs | pillows | quilt | rug | chair | table

Daybeds are also great because they can function as both a bed (when it’s in guest room mode) and a couch (when it’s in playroom mode). We also balanced some other needs for both functions with some other furniture choices. A nice big side table with books & mags for a guest along with a reading lamp checks the guest room box, while some large lidded storage baskets on the other side of the bed checked the playroom box (see photo above).

The wallpaper was also sort of a happy accident too. The original wallpaper we had suggested was also very tone-on-tone and I had picked it because I LOVED how playful the pattern was (look how cute!). Since it was still an extremely neutral color palette, but the pattern was fun for kids, I thought it would be perfect for this dual space, but the editors worried it might skew too playroom so we selected this more affordable palm one instead. We love how the room turned out, but I still love the original wallpaper pick too – so if you’re creating a playroom or a kids room, I think it would be so much fun (heck, as a grown woman I’d like it in my space too).

mirror | daybed | wallpaper | art | lamp | pillows | quilt | octopus

I am just in love with that octopus, as were the kids. What is it about a big stuffed animal with a slightly dopey expression that steals your heart? Also, some of our pillow fills hadn’t arrived yet so that droopy bolster pillow below is stuffed with spare bath towels. THE MAGIC OF PHOTO STYLING, EVERYBODY! Also this large print from Juniper Print Shop was such a perfect solution (all the right colors, looked great with the wallpaper, and feels like a kid would love staring at it just as much as a grown up – in fact our kids asked us whose house it was – ha!).

daybed | wallpaper | art | pillows | quilt

Another playroom “must” for us is a table or desk that can serve as a craft/art/game space. This room had very little wall space (aside from the bed wall, it was pretty much all windows, closets, and doors) so we knew a floating desk or table was our best bet. A round table is always great in these scenarios and we knew our drop-leaf table would earn bonus points because the leaves can be folded down to make it more compact if needed. Plus there’s room for two blue-gray chairs that can be moved to any of the four sides of the table. Flexible furniture is always a win.

So we just hoped when we showed up that we could make it work, and we love how it looks by the windows. Imagine coloring or doing a puzzle there while looking outside on a gorgeous sunny day. Please also imagine my double wide white flowy curtains because all of that industrial black frame that you see below will be muuuuuch softer once they’re hung. I can’t wait to see the photos from the magazine because it’s going to be yet another demonstration about how curtains completely change a room. Stay tuned…

wallpaper | rug | chairs | table | beanbag

This room is also great because it had two matching closets along the wall to the right of the window above. Why is that great? Well, it was a no-brainer to make one useful for guests (their clothes, a suitcase, etc) and use the other one for kids storage (games, books, art supplies, etc). The guest closet is being outfitted by professional organizers (they’re doing pretty much every other closet in the house too, as well as the pantry) so our task was to tackle the kids closet, which we wanted to make open and accessible – and cute enough to be in plain view 24/7… so our first step was to remove the sliding doors.

I realize that “doors off” approach could sound counterintuitive since the fastest way to clean up for guests is to just throw stuff behind closed doors, but we’ve found that can also breed Monica closets (especially when toys are involved). Plus this is an idea house… how fun would this room be if we just had kids stuff hiding behind a closed door? So instead, we got to create this little nook full of functional storage that looks good too (the stenciled dresser is such a great piece that’s easy on the eyes yet super smart for storing things out of sight).

chairs | table | beanbag | dresser | shelves | wallpaper

So at least consider creating some storage like this in your home, which can fend off the urge to shove everything into a closet, and instead create a manageable and simple system for things (both concealed and out in the open) so that you love looking at it. When everything has a legit spot to go back to after it’s done being played with, it really isn’t very hard to maintain (and even kids can clean up on autopilot).

Another example of this concept is the back wall of our bonus room in our house, where we have concealed cabinets for storing games and art supplies and puzzles and even bonus guest blankets and pillows for when people sleep in there, but also has fun open shelving so you walk in and see some playful and very functional items right out in the open.

But back to the idea room. These shelves were actually our biggest hiccup in the plan, and they’re what ended up taking up the biggest chunk of time during our install day. Our original shelves were backordered, but we didn’t find that out with enough time to order new ones.

Originally we were going to do colorful shelves full of books & toys, but physically being in the room that day made it clear that this wall needed some wood tones to balance out the daybed and the other lovely wood tones on the other side of the space.

HOORAY FOR THE COLORFUL SHELF DELAY! It truly was the best hiccup we could have asked for, because these wood shelves made the room turn out so much better than it would have if those hadn’t been backordered. After we arrived, we immediately began hunting for options that were in stock and available that day, and landed on these LISABO shelves from Ikea. And there was an Ikea like 15 minutes from the house in Brooklyn so we were able to have them in hand by lunchtime!

We filmed a whole segment with Real Simple about hanging the shelves (who knows if we were coherent enough for them to use it but we’ll share it if/when it comes out), and you can see that the more neutral shelves still ended up looking colorful and fun, thanks to the addition of some toys and books and blocks.

And I know the idea of color-coding your shelves can be eye-roll inducing, but it ended up being great for this tiny space. I wasn’t super Type-A about it. I just quickly tossed things together mostly by color… but there’s yellow & pink in that top right corner and orange & hot pink in the top left, so it’s not anything that took too long or was overwrought.

In fact it took us about 1.5 hours to hang these shelves (two words: cinderblock walls) but it took me like 9 minutes to style them. Not kidding. And the cool thing is that as people use items and kids grow and change, shelves evolve too. Open shelves aren’t a museum. Nobody has to painstakingly put things back the same way each time. It’s actually fun to try different groupings, and this rainbow-ish approach made our eyes happy, but the shelves in our bonus room have changed so much over the years. It’s all gonna be ok. Don’t stress. Just put things you like to look at on open shelves and hide stuff you don’t wanna see in concealed cabinets or drawers or baskets or bins. Truly, it’s a simple system that you can actually can keep up with.

A note on the shelves themselves, because they exceeded our expectations by like a million. I had never personally heard of or seen these shelves before (they said “new” on the Ikea site when John dug them up on his phone in that panicked we-have-to-find-something-today search) but I’m SUPER impressed by them. They’re very solid, relatively easy to hang (would’ve taken about 10 mins per shelf if we didn’t have cinderblock walls which required a masonry bit), and the wood tone is perfect. Blonde and casual. Smooth & expensive looking. But not.

And since we know keeping picture-perfect shelves isn’t realistic for all of your toys, we always like to incorporate some closed toy storage too – like the chest of drawers underneath the shelves and those large floor baskets across the room that we mentioned earlier.

Oh, I also think we need to buy a beanbag now. Our kids were obsessed with this one. Like the chairs were chumps. They both wanted to be ON THE BEANBAG AT ALL TIMES.

light | chairs | table | beanbag | pouf | dresser | shelves | rug | wallpaper

I’m so excited to see the finished pictures of this space in Real Simple’s October issue. Plus there are so many other amazing spaces that we already got to see in various states of near-completion, like Mandi’s master bedroom and Shavonda & Carmeon’s office. Speaking of which, we overlapped Shavonda and Carmeon‘s visit and it was SO. MUCH. FUN. to finally meet them both in person. We’ve been IG buddies for ages (you might remember that Shavonda talked to us about downsizing on our podcast last year) so hanging with them was the perfect end to an extremely fun day.

Plus Shavonda got this sweet picture of me and John where we look like we’re wearing one large black t-shirt with three arm-holes. If that ain’t marriage, I don’t know what is.

Oh, and as for what happens to all of this stuff and this house when the photos are taken for Real Simple’s October issue… well, the house gets sold and the furniture gets auctioned off for a good cause! I love that nothing goes to waste, and in creating such a fun space, everything ends up benefiting people who need a helping hand. They haven’t picked this year’s charity yet, but when they do I’ll let you know.

So thanks, Real Simple! It was Real Fun ;) #MomJokes4Days

P.S. If you’d like to see other rooms we’ve designed for a good cause, we loved doing this very special room makeover for a local family, this teacher’s lounge for a local school, and these three bedroom makeovers for three amazing kids.

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