#never mind if it would have meant anything remotely similar

[radiant-reid]

A blurb on spencer with the audio thats like “I always thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” and it’s to reader? :))

love this !! and i don't care if it's such a cliche image, I'm not going to stop

Spencer jumps when you slide the balcony door open. Even with the serial killer caught, you're all still on edge, chilly in the Alaskan spring.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind me interrupting." You step forward and close the door to stop any heat from the fire escaping inside.

"Not at all," Spencer assures you, smiling softly to encourage you forward.

You stand next to him, looking out over at the hill and evergreen trees, everything with a fresh dumping of snow on it. The sun's just setting even though it's not too far into the afternoon, the sky beginning to turn soft pink and orange.

"Things were getting a bit tense inside." You laugh at the very recent memory of some passionate arguing.

"Prentiss and Morgan?" Spencer guesses. You confirm with a nod. "Hotch should add Uno to the list of banned games."

You laugh at the rare joke from him. "We're not going to have anything left now that Monopoly, Clue, and all card games are banned."

"We'll have to all play chess." He decides, matching his enthusiasm with a grin.

"Then you'll have to sit out so it's fair." You remind him with a smirk.

He pouts at that, not the answer he was after. A comfortable silence falls between you as you watch the sky changing colors. It's really like nothing you've seen before, and it's a nice reminder that there's still beauty in the world.

"It's just wow." You say softly, in awe.

"The stars will be out soon," Spencer notes. "They should be incredible. It's meant to be clear and there's no light pollution here like there is in DC."

"You looked it up?" You wonder. It's sweet, really, and his interest seems to go beyond adding to his vast general knowledge.

He turns to you to nod. "I'm going to come out after dinner to watch them. I've never seen anything like this in the cities I've lived in, and we don't get many cases in such beautiful, remote places."

You hum with your own nod. "You're right. Or..." Your curiosity doesn't allow you to resist the opportunity to segue the conversation. "Many beautiful people, like the deputy that's into you."

You're trying to disguise it as teasing him, at least then you can play it off as being teammates and friends, and you're desperately hoping he doesn't notice that you're tense about his answer.

His nose scrunches slightly. Maybe disgust, maybe excitement. "I wasn't looking."

"Not your type?" You ask, slightly alarmed again. You do share some similar traits with her, so if she's not his type, your chances are slimmer.

"I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen." He says sincerely, knocking the wind out of your chest. "So, no, Y/n, I'm not looking at anyone."

You take longer than you should to get over your shock. "You're serious?"

"Sorry, sorry." He quickly apologizes as his cheeks heat up more than can be accounted for by the cold weather. "That was weird. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No." You rest your hand over his, hoping to calm his spiraling worry. "You didn't... just thank you. That's... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"It's true." He reiterates.

Your smile deepens. "Can I come stargazing with you?" You ask. "I promise I won't distract you."

"Looking like that? Impossible." He jokes, flirtier than you imagine. It's like your reciprocation spurs him on. "But I'd love company... your company, specifically. Inviting someone else would be weird."

You chuckle. "Just me and you."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb

[wing-ed-thing]

Smoker Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns

𓆃 For how tight-laced and no nonsense he can be, Smoker isn't a terrible partner in the slightest. While he brings some of his stern nature into a relationship, you'll find that he's extremely loyal and surprisingly soft and attentive.

𓆃 Putting it plainly, when it comes to relationships, Smoker has been there and done that. He knows the role he's meant to play in your chosen dynamic. And that being said, he knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waste any time playing games.

𓆃 While early inklings of catching feelings might throw him off a bit (especially if you've been close friends or colleagues), there's little else that keeps him from being direct and politely asking you out forthright.

𓆃 Smoker is rather untraditionally orthodox in the sense that he prefers the traditional song and dance of taking you to dinner, but bringing flowers didn't even cross his mind. He'll hold the door, but couldn't give a damn about which side of the road you walk on. And if you ask if he intends to split your bill he'll look at you like you're crazy.

𓆃 And there's almost no way to predict Smoker's picking and choosing in terms of his relationship expectations, which mostly comes from him thinking things and then not telling you because he thought them so you must automatically know.

𓆃 You'll find that you often have to roll with random things popping up in your mutual schedule at the last minute because how could Smoker not tell you he's been dispatched for the next two weeks?

𓆃 And his reaction is always the same. He'll crinkle his forehead and squint his eyes while the words "I thought I told you 'bout that" pass around his cigar.

𓆃 Smoker often sails for a period of time and then comes back home to where he's stationed. You can almost always count of this revolving schedule, although if yours is remotely similar, it's rare that your schedules line up.

𓆃 Whenever he travels, Smoker always brings back a little gift from whatever island he's just been to, and you've even found that you can request just about whatever your heart desires and Smoker will find a way to get it.

𓆃 Although, he doesn't understand a thing about trends, so requesting a popular item will be met with a grumpy, begrudging attitude.

𓆃 "Why do you want a stupid little trinket? You're not gonna ask for, ah, I dunno jewelry or somethin'?" "I'm not buyin' you a Soul King vinyl. You know that guy's a wanted criminal right?"

𓆃 For all his complaining, Smoker will come home with a necklace and the vinyl (he sent one of his men to buy one incognito).

𓆃 And he complains a lot and you'll find that he can have quite the attitude. After the third time you've mentioned how much you want take-away Smoker is going to put his jacket on and get it, but he's going to be mumbling and grumbling the whole time.

𓆃 That goes for just about anything you want on a whim. Whether you want something sweet in the middle of the night or you walked past something really nice at the market and now you're lamenting over whether you should have bought it.

𓆃 And every time Smoker is getting out of bed to get you ice cream or turning you both around so you— or more likely he— can buy you that item you were so infatuated with.

𓆃 But for every ounce of attitude he gives, it's within reason and expectation that you give it right back to him. Smoker will never say he likes when you're a bit sassy, but he's very clearly amused by banter.

𓆃 Landing a clever clap-back on him simply makes him smile. The smile is usually accompanied by an eyeroll and the shake of his head, but you can tell he loves when you get a little feisty.

𓆃 In the same vein, Smoker easily gets suckered by a bit of pouting here and there because for being rigid and grumpy, he would do anything short of breaking the law for you.

𓆃 If you're someone looking for something serious and long-term, look no further because Smoker is on board with settling down. Once you're in a relationship, there's very little that would keep him from being anything but dedicated to you.

𓆃 Oh, except piracy.

𓆃 Yeah, piracy would likely get in the way of that.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#smoker x reader #one piece x reader #smoker #one piece smoker #vice admiral smoker x reader #captain smoker x reader #x reader #reader insert #smoker headcanons #smoker headcanon #one piece reader insert #x you #white chase smoker x reader #white chase smoker #op x reader #op headcanons #op headcanon #op smoker

[ronancexists]

Chaggie/Starmoth Week of Firsts

These will also be posted on my AO3 account which is the same as my Tumblr username, ronancexists :) Day 2: First Date

It had been a rough couple of months since Charlie had first found Vaggie. The poor woman was not only severely injured at the time, but she was also new to Hell. Like, brand new. And that meant she knew absolutely nothing about how anything worked down here.

Luckily for Charlie, Vaggie seemed to adapt to her new life in Hell rather quickly. She absorbed all the information Charlie relayed to her about Hell like a sponge does water, and was overly protective of Charlie whenever they ventured out together.

Not that Charlie particularly minded. In fact, she found it rather sweet that Vaggie was so adamant about keeping her safe. Even though she and Vaggie both knew nobody down here would hurt her unless they wanted to incur her father’s wrath, Vaggie insisted, stating she didn’t want them to forget that little detail.

Charlie wasn’t sure if Vaggie was acting this way because she’d been the one who nursed Vaggie back to health when she was teetering on the brink of death, or if it was because Vaggie might be harboring some deeper feelings for Charlie.

At least, that’s what Charlie was hoping was the case.

She’s been aware of her own feelings towards Vaggie for what's felt like forever now. After all, she did totally like, find her completely attractive when she’d first stumbled upon Vaggie and blushed when Vaggie smiled at her and did her little hair tuck behind her ear thing. And when Vaggie started hanging out with her and smiling at her and comforting her and helping her and supporting her dreams and believing in her, well, it’s no wonder Charlie became so smitten so quickly.

The trouble was, Charlie had no clue if Vaggie felt the same. Vaggie didn’t outwardly express her emotions as much as Charlie did, at least, not the ones that would make her vulnerable, and—in her words, not Charlie’s, never Charlie’s—make her appear weak to others.

However, she was very good at expressing her annoyance and anger and the even concern when she felt Charlie was working herself too hard or when Charlie was on the verge of a breakdown from stress and frustration.

But anything other than that, Vaggie’s lips were sealed.

Charlie had no clue how Vaggie felt about her, but she wished and hoped more than anything that Vaggie felt even remotely similar to Charlie.

~~~

Vaggie had developed feelings for Charlie. Not friend feelings, but I-want-to-hold-your-hand-and-kiss-you-whenever-I-want-and-call-you-my-partner feelings.

She groaned aloud to herself, her arms crossed over her stomach, pacing back and forth in front of the bed of the guest bedroom that had become her room, anxiously gnawing on her bottom lip, one of her hands occasionally leaving her stomach to tug at her hair.

Vaggie’s been feeling like this around Charlie for a while now.

Whenever Charlie looked at her, she blushed. Whenever Charlie touched her, whether it was linking their hands together or giving her a hug, it sent warmth and sparks shooting through her body. Whenever Charlie was sad, she wanted nothing more than to hold the blonde in her arms and shower her with affirmations, while simultaneously thinking of ways to tear apart the hijo de puta that had caused Charlie to feel sad in the first place. Whenever Charlie sang, it filled Vaggie with a feeling of happiness and peace. Whenever Charlie started talking, she found herself thinking of how soft Charlie’s lips would feel against her own and if her kisses would be as sweet as her.

She groaned again, now raking both hands through her hair and clutching at large chunks intermittently. “Fuuuuuuck, fuck fuck fuck,” Vaggie said, sighing as she fell back against her bed with a ‘thump’, feet dangling and kicking in the air before hitting the side of mattress, repeating the motions mindlessly as her thoughts continued to stray to Charlie.

Charlie must have been pretty oblivious to not have noticed even one of the longing stares Vaggie directed her way. But if Charlie wasn’t looking for Vaggie to look at her that way, then it’d make sense that she hadn’t noticed.

That was another thing. Vaggie had been studying Charlie for a while now, and not once had she caught the Princess looking at Vaggie the way she looked at Charlie. Usually, Charlie was an open book to Vaggie, but if Vaggie didn’t see it, it more than likely meant Charlie didn’t like Vaggie in that way.

With a sigh, Vaggie adjusted so she was curled up on her side, arms curled around herself as if trying to protect her from the inevitable truth.

Charlie didn’t like her, not in the way Vaggie wanted her to.

And she never would.

~~~

Charlie couldn’t believe she had just done that. One moment, she was seated at the dinner table, aimlessly chatting with Vaggie, and the next, she was covering her mouth in shock, eyes wide in horror as Vaggie merely stared at her. “Ohhhh my gosh, I’m so so so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that! No, wait, I meant to say it! I just, I had this whole thing planned out. I was gonna get flowers and make a cake and put up a banner and everything! It was going to have glitter and—”

As Charlie continued to ramble, Vaggie continued to stare at her, a blank expression on her face, processing what Charlie had said.

They’d sat down to eat, Charlie instantly diving into conversation about the newest updates to her Happy Hotel project. Vaggie was watching her with a fond smile, her singular eye shining with adoration as Charlie frantically waved her hands about to emphasize her point.

When Charlie finally met Vaggie’s gaze, she tucked her hair behind her ear, something Vaggie knew she only did when she was flustered. Vaggie couldn’t bring herself to look away from Charlie, even as her own cheeks began to heat the longer her eye remained locked with both of Charlie’s.

Charlie broke the tension by blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Would you want to go on a date with me?”

And that’s how they got to this moment, with Charlie now on the verge of tears as Vaggie still hadn’t responded to anything Charlie had said, including her admittance of her feelings towards the other woman.

“I-If you don-don’t feel the same, I understand. I just hope we can s-stay friends,” Charlie sniffled, wiping the wetness staining her cheeks with the arm of her suit jacket. “I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.”

Vaggie finally managed to snap out her trance as Charlie stood up from her seat, the chair screeching against the floor at the force that Charlie pushed it back with. She stood up as well and quickly walked over to Charlie’s side of the table, stopping Charlie’s retreat when her fingers wrapped around Charlie’s slender wrist. “Wait,” she pleaded.

Charlie stopped in her tracks, taking in a deep breath before hesitantly looking over at Vaggie.

“Charlie, I—” Vaggie started, exhaling slowly as if that would get rid of the jitters that had taken over. “I like you. As more than a friend. And I’d love to go on a date with you, if you still want that.”

Charlie’s expression morphed comically from sadness and fear and hesitation to disbelief to sheer, unadulterated joy, all within seconds. She squealed, wrapping her arms around Vaggie’s waist and picking her up, spinning them around in circles as she giggled excitedly.

Vaggie wrapped her arms around Charlie’s shoulders instinctively, her panicked yelp quickly giving way to laughter.

“Really?! You mean it?! You want to go on a date with me?!” Charlie asked once she had set Vaggie down, only slightly breathless, hands still resting on either side of Vaggie’s waist, beaming down at Vaggie as if she held the key to happiness in her hands.

“I mean it,” Vaggie confirmed, smiling brightly as Charlie dove forward for a hug, one she eagerly reciprocated. She buried her face in Charlie’s shoulder, inhaling deeply, that familiar, wonderful apple scent making her feel a litany of feelings all at once.

Both of them were overly relieved that the other felt the same, and they couldn’t wait for their first date to commence.

~~~

“Are you sure I look ok?” A frazzled Charlie asked a very exasperated Razzle and Dazzle, who had laid down on her bed after Charlie had reached outfit number six.

“Baa,” they responded in unison, Razzle closing his eyes and resting his head on his crossed hooves while Dazzle stared at her, unimpressed.

“You’re right. It’s Vaggie, she’s not going to care about what I’m wearing,” she said in an attempt to reassure herself as she fussed with the cuffs on her jacket, looking herself over in the mirror for the umpteenth time, quadruple-checking that her mascara hadn’t smeared.

Charlie was wearing a black multi-layer ruffled skirt that fell to her upper thighs, a black shirt that was tucked neatly into her skirt with a white collar, a white tie with black stripes, and a black suit jacket that had padded shoulders. It also sported gold-colored buttons and a white trim along the hem, all the way around from the lapels to the angular-shaped bottom. She’d redone her black nail polish, and ultimately decided to leave her hair in its normal braid, choosing to go with a pair of small, strappy black heels.

Straightening up her tie, Charlie couldn’t contain the excitement that was bubbling up, nor the accompanying ear-to-ear smile. “I still can’t believe she said yes! It’s a dream come true! I’m the luckiest girl in the world!”

Razzle and Dazzle shared bemused glances as Charlie began twirling around the room, humming to herself in delight as she swiped her wallet off the nightstand, tucking it into her inner coat pocket.

“I bet Vaggie’s going to look amazing! Not to say that she doesn’t always look amazing, because she does! But seeing her all dressed up is going to be a whole ‘nother level of amazing!”

“Baa!” Dazzle bleated, Razzle pointing to the clock.

“Oh, shoot! You’re right! I gotta go get Vaggie! You boys got the limo?! Vaggie deserves the absolute best for our date!”

“Baa! Baa!” Razzle responded, flying up from the bed and nudging Charlie towards the door while his brother grabbed the bouquet of roses Charlie had bought for Vaggie and handed them off to her.

“Right, I’ve got it! Thanks boys, I’ll see you in a bit!” Charlie hollered, practically skipping down the hall, the bouquet clutched tightly in her hands.

She skidded to a halt when she reached Vaggie’s bedroom door, and once she had gathered up enough courage, she knocked.

“I’ll be out in a couple of seconds!”

Charlie didn’t have to wait for even a second. The door swung open, revealing Vaggie, and Charlie’s mouth went dry, eyes becoming as big as saucers. “Vaggie—I—umm—you look—wow—I—you’re—you’re stunning,” Charlie stuttered as she held out the flowers to Vaggie. “I brought these, for you, but now I don’t even know why I bothered because they don’t even begin to compare to you.”

Vaggie blushed, taking the roses from Charlie while shuffling nervously from foot to foot at Charlie’s sweet compliment and her earnest gaze. “Let me just put these down, and then we can go.”

Charlie nodded, watching Vaggie walk away, mind reeling from how a woman as beautifully breathtaking as Vaggie wanted to go out with her. Not because she was Charlotte, the Princess of Hell and heir to the throne, but Charlie, the goofy blonde filled to the brim with enthusiasm and dreams that others were determined to crush under the heels of their boots.

“Ready?” Vaggie asked.

“I am,” Charlie said, holding her arm out for Vaggie to take, heart flipping and flopping in her chest as Vaggie daintily looped her arm through Charlie’s, smiling bashfully at her. “I meant what I said, you know. You look absolutely amazing.”

Vaggie’s hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, her bangs covering the eyepatch with the red X Charlie had painstakingly made for her. On her neck sat a small, diamond necklace that resembled a choker in Charlie’s eyes. She had picked out a dark red, sparkling pantsuit for the evening, the spaghetti straps resting on her shoulders a lighter shade of red. The top half dipped down just low enough to tease, but not overwhelmingly so. There was a cutout in the middle, connected to the bottom half of her suit by light red straps, exposing Vaggie’s skin all around. Most of Vaggie’s upper back was exposed as well due to the way the top half of the suit tapered off as it reached Vaggie’s back. She, like Charlie, was wearing a small pair of heels, only hers were white instead of black.

It was a lot more skin than Charlie was used to seeing exposed on Vaggie, and it was honestly making her dizzy with how breathless she was becoming and how much she wanted to run her hands over it all. She was also filled with pride at Vaggie, for being comfortable enough with Charlie to have the scars on her back out in the open.

“Thank you, Charlie. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Charlie acted offended at the barb, and Vaggie’s resulting giggle only made her that much more beautiful in Charlie’s eyes.

“So, are you ready to tell me where we’re headed?” Vaggie asked conversationally as they reached the limo, thanking Charlie for holding the door open, rolling her eye fondly as Charlie bowed at the gratitude.

Since Charlie had grown up in Hell and Vaggie had only arrived a couple of months ago, she’d allowed Charlie the liberty of planning out their evening. The only information Charlie had given her was to dress as though she were heading to a black-tie event.

“Not yet. Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Charlie replied as she clambered into the limo, shutting the door behind her and signaling to the boys that they could begin driving. She settled back in her seat, adjusting herself so she was facing Vaggie, reaching over to link their hands together, humming to herself as she traded from staring out the window for some time to staring at Vaggie for some (a much longer) time.

Charlie’s touch sent a tingling sensation shooting through her, quickly followed by warmth, which Charlie seemed to simply radiate.

While Charlie was occupied with the window, Vaggie took the chance to admire Charlie’s outfit, seeing as she hadn’t been able to earlier, and how the fuck Charlie managed to pull of a suit with a ruffled skirt was beyond her. Though she didn’t mind the skirt, not at all. The way the garment fell as Charlie sat down made it ride up even higher than it had before, exposing even more of Charlie’s thighs, not to mention the way the suit emphasized each one of Charlie’s curves and highlighted the angles of her body. The sight made Vaggie’s breath hitch in her throat, and it took her a while to gain any semblance of control over her thoughts.

A smirk overcame her face as an idea flashed in her mind. She tugged on Charlie’s hand, causing the Princess to look over at her in confusion. Vaggie tugged on her hand again, and once Charlie moved, scooting close enough to Vaggie that their thighs were touching, Vaggie leaned against Charlie’s side, throwing one of Charlie’s arms around her shoulders while her own wrapped around Charlie’s waist. With a content sigh, Vaggie allowed her head to fall against Charlie’s shoulder, looking up at Charlie and batting her eye innocently even as she fought against her smirk, which wanted to make itself known once more. “Is this ok?” Vaggie asked, intentionally fanning her breath against Charlie’s neck and watching as goosebumps instantly appeared.

“Yeah! Yes, yeah, this is ok! This is great!”

Vaggie allowed her eye to flutter shut, snuggling deeper into Charlie’s side while being wary of smearing her mascara.

Charlie gulped as her hand hesitantly rested on Vaggie’s shoulder, stroking the skin there softly, heart pounding rapidly against her sternum as her thoughts ran rampant. Oh my gosh I can’t believe this is happening! Her skin is so much smoother and so much softer than I imagined and she looks so breathtaking and she fits so well against me! How am I going to survive dinner if I can barely even stand the ride there?! Please please please let us arrive soon so I’m not tempted to do something I’ll sorely regret and something that will definitely ensure Vaggie won’t want to go out with me ever again. Gosh she’s so beautiful I can’t get over how well the color red suits her and her eye is so pretty and she looks so good with her hair tied back. Not that she doesn’t look good with her hair down! Because she does! She looks good with both! Oh geez I’m rambling inside of my mind, how do I always manage to do this to myself?!

“Charlie?”

“Hmm?” Charlie responded mindlessly, too busy scolding herself internally for going off on a tangent.

“Can’t you at least give me a hint as to where we’re going? Please?”

Charlie bit her lip, eyes falling down to Vaggie’s lips as she pouted playfully. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yes, thank you!” Vaggie exclaimed, reaching up to press a light, fleeting kiss to Charlie’s cheek, pulling away as she looked at the woman eagerly, who appeared to be frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. “Charlie, hun, are you ok?”

If it was even possible, Charlie stilled even more. It took Vaggie a moment to realize, and when she did, a blush instantly sprouted to her cheeks.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It sort of just slipped out. This is only our first date and it’s a bit much to be calling you by any nicknames or anything. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’d never want to do that to you. It won’t happen again, I promise. Gah, I’m such an idiot!”

“Don’t say that!”

Vaggie looked at Charlie in surprise, her blush deepening as Charlie lifted their intertwined hands to her mouth and kissed the back of Vaggie’s.

“Don’t you ever call yourself an idiot again, ok? You’re the opposite of an idiot. You’re a genius. You’re smart. Intelligent. Sharp. Brilliant. Clev—”

“Ok!” Vaggie interrupted, placing a hand over Charlie’s mouth through her giggles. “I understand. I promise.”

“Good, and don’t apologize for the nicknames either. I think they’re cute, especially when they’re coming from you.”

Warmth blossomed in Vaggie’s chest, spreading throughout her entire body. “So you think I’m cute, huh?”

Charlie’s hair tuck was all the answer Vaggie needed.

“I think you’re cute too, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

Charlie beamed down at Vaggie, and without thinking, she pressed a kiss to Vaggie’s forehead.

Vaggie’s heart pounded even fiercer at the feel of Charlie’s lips on her skin. She squeezed Charlie’s hand in reassurance before she could freak out too much about the action. “Now, would you care to give me that clue you promised me?”

“Alright, hold on! Ummmm, let’s see,” Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes narrowing as if searching through her mind for the perfect clue. “Hmm, ok. Yup, I’ve got it! It’s to die for!”

Vaggie studied Charlie curiously, her proud smile and sparkling eyes and those adorable red circles on her cheeks. “Charlie.”

“Yes?”

“Are you seriously telling me you got us a reservation at ZoZo’s Palace?!”

Charlie deflated like a balloon, a pout settling on her lips. “Aww man, I didn’t think you were gonna guess it!”

Vaggie snorted. “Charlie, they’ve got advertisements 24/7 about how the food there is ‘to die for’. I may not pay much attention to the TV, but I’ve heard it enough times to recognize it. How did you even get reservations? From what I’ve heard, that place is booked months in advance.”

Charlie scratched the back of her neck, smiling at Vaggie sheepishly. “Well, I sort of am the Princess of Hell. I don’t use the title a lot, but I really wanted to do this for you. I wanted to make tonight special.”

“Charlie,” Vaggie said softly, adoration sweeping across her face as she cupped Charlie’s face in her hand, forcing Charlie to look at her. “You didn’t need to go through all of that trouble for me. Tonight was going to be special no matter what, because I’m with you. That means more to me than anything, even a fancy restaurant.”

Charlie nuzzled into Vaggie’s hand, eyes brimming with happy tears as she stared at Vaggie in awe. “You mean that?”

“I do.”

A smirk formed on Charlie’s face. “So, should I cancel our table?”

“Umm, fuck no.”

“But I thought being with me was more special than anything?”

“It is, but you can’t tell a girl you got her a table at ZoZo’s and not expect her to want to go.”

They looked at one another seriously. It only lasted for a few seconds before they burst into a fit of giggles, the limo rolling to a stop shortly after.

“Baa!” Razzle said, pointing out the window.

“Looks like we’re here,” Charlie said, opening the car door and stepping out before turning around, offering her hand for Vaggie to take.

Vaggie did, allowing Charlie to assist her, and once she was out, she interlocked her fingers with Charlie, squeezing Charlie’s hand in excitement as she stared at the restaurant before them in complete and utter wonder. “Charlie,” she breathed out, and the smile she shot Charlie was so brilliant Charlie felt her knees go weak.

“Come on,” Charlie said, reluctantly removing her hand from Vaggie’s so she could wrap her arm around the backs of her shoulders, hand resting on the bare skin of her upper arm.

Vaggie slung her arm across Charlie’s waist in return, fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down Charlie’s side as they walked, a tingling sensation shooting through Charlie each time.

They chatted aimlessly as they waited in line, and once they reached the front, Charlie spoke up. “Reservation for two under Morningstar.”

The host’s eyes widened in recognition, but otherwise kept his cool. “Of course, Miss Morningstar. Right this way.”

Charlie watched Vaggie as she looked around at everything in awe, smile widening everytime Vaggie gasped softly if something took her aback. Her cheeks were hurting by the time they got to their table, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“You got us a private dining room?”

“I know you still tend to get anxious around large groups of people, so I thought this would make you more comfortable.”

Vaggie was overwhelmed by Charlie’s consideration for her and her feelings. Unable to find the words to express her gratitude, she leaned up and kissed Charlie’s cheek like she had in the limo. Charlie’s giddy smile at her actions only served to make Vaggie smile like an idiot in return.

“Ladies first,” Charlie said, reaching for the chair and pulling it out, gesturing for Vaggie to sit.

“My my my, what a gentleman,” Vaggie teased as Charlie pushed her chair back in before Vaggie had fully sat down.

Charlie smoothed out the bottom of her skirt before she sat down, pulling her chair in so she could be as close to the table (and Vaggie) as possible.

“Charlie, this is incredible. I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”

“It wasn’t that much trouble, really. But even if it had been, it would’ve been well worth it if it meant I got to see you smile the way you are right now.”

“A gentleman and a charmer, who would’ve thought?” Vaggie asked despite the color that was painting her cheeks at Charlie’s words.

“Hey, there’s a lot you still don’t know about me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re an open book, Charlie.”

“That’s simply not true.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really!”

“Do tell. What do I not know about Miss Charlie Morningstar, the ever so darling Princess of Hell?”

That’s how they spent most of their evening, discussing the things they knew about one another and learning about the things they didn’t know. They only stopped when they’d ordered their drinks and food, diving right back into their conversation as soon as they’d finished placing their orders.

“I can see why people say this place is to die for,” Vaggie said after they’d both finished off their plates, using her napkin to wipe up any excess food that may have been lingering on her face, Charlie doing the same across the table.

“Me too. I’ve been here a couple of times with my parents when I was younger, but I never really liked the food much at the time.”

“Oh? Was little Princess Charlie too much of a snob to even eat at a place as fancy as this?”

Charlie shook her head through her giggles. “No! It was nothing like that!”

Vaggie laughed as well, tilting her head when she noticed Charlie had some sauce smeared on the corner of her mouth. “Char, hun, you’ve still got a little something,” she said, pointing to her own face to indicate where it was on Charlie’s.

“Did I get it?”

“No, hold on, lemme just,” Vaggie said as she reached out, wiping the sauce off with her own napkin, freezing as she realized just how close her face was to Charlie’s. Close enough that she could feel Charlie’s breath fanning across her face, close enough that if she leaned forward just a bit she could narrow the distance between them, see how those black lips felt against her own, if they were as soft as Vaggie imagined, if they would taste like apples, if—

Vaggie cleared her throat, averting her eye from Charlie’s as she hastily sat back in her seat, blushing heavily.

Charlie had never been so tempted to screw proper date etiquette than at that moment. Vaggie had been so close, and her lips had looked so inviting, so plump, so kissable, so delectable. She had been in the midst of wondering how Vaggie would react to Charlie biting down on her lip, if she’d sigh or let out a moan or whimper in pleasure, when Vaggie had abruptly pulled away. “All gone?” she asked, a bit breathless.

Vaggie nodded. “Yup! All gone. You’re all good now.”

“I guess you can’t take me anywhere, huh?”

Vaggie smirked at that. “I guess not.”

She asked Charlie about how the Hotel was coming along, her chin resting in her hand as she admired the woman in front of her. How passionate she was, how determined she was, how enigmatic she was, how beautiful she looked in the candlelight. Vaggie had never felt more smitten with Charlie than right now.

Here she was, all dolled up, sat in the most upscale restaurant in Hell, with none other than the Princess herself.

Not that Vaggie liked Charlie because she was the Princess. She could care less about that. She was with Charlie because she liked hearing her sing whatever tune came to mind, she liked the way Charlie would become all flustered when she complimented her, she liked seeing Charlie bounce up and down in her seat whenever they were watching something together, unable to sit still even in the calmest of moments. She liked how caring Charlie was, how she was willing to do anything and everything for those she held near and dear, how her nose would crinkle when she’d get overly excited, how she was always so optimistic despite being in Hell, how touchy-feely she was with Vaggie.

Vaggie could go on and on about everything she liked about Charlie, but that would take up the rest of eternity. She had it bad for the other woman, and while that scared her, it also thrilled her.

Because Charlie, the literal Angel of Hell, felt the same way about Vaggie as Vaggie felt about her.

“Vaggie?”

Vaggie snapped her attention back to Charlie, who looked uncharacteristically nervous, twisting her skirt in one of her hands as she fidgeted in her seat while the other was tapping on the table. “Yeah, hun? Is everything ok?”

“I was just—well I was wondering—I know this is a big thing—and I—ughhh ok—umm—I dunno—I was thinking—”

Vaggie smiled softly, reaching over and placing her hand atop Charlie’s. “Breathe, Charlie. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. There isn’t anything you can say to me that will make me want to leave you.”

Charlie nodded jerkily, inhaling and exhaling as she gathered her thoughts. “I know this is a big ask, and there is no pressure on you to say yes! I was just, ever since I met you, you’ve stood by me like nobody else. You’ve supported me through everything, and you believe in me. You believe in my Happy Hotel, and you believe in my idea that sinners can be redeemed. So, if it’s not asking too much, I was kinda, sorta, mayyyybe hoping you’d want to be my partner in running the Hotel, like maybe you could be the manager or something. I haven’t figured all of the logistics out yet. But you totally don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to! Or even answer right now! I can definitely wait, I don’t want to make you feel like you owe it to me to say yes or force you into it if you don’t—”

“Charlie,” Vaggie interrupted, squeezing the other woman’s hand as Charlie blinked at her. “I’d be honored.”

“Wait, really?! You want to?! You want to run the hotel with me?!”

Vaggie nodded, returning Charlie’s ear-to-ear-grin. “Really. I care for you, Charlie, and I care about your dream. I want to do whatever I can to help.”

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” Charlie gushed, bringing Vaggie’s hand up to her mouth and pressing a flurry of kisses to the back of it in her excitement.

Vaggie’s cheeks heated up from the attention, but she made no move to stop Charlie. After all, she adored her and her antics. “There’s no need to thank me, mi querida.”

Charlie tilted her head at Vaggie. “What does that mean?”

“What, mi querida?”

She nodded.

“Oh, it’s Spanish for ‘my dear’,” Vaggie explained as her blush deepened.

“Could you speak it to me more? It makes me feel, I dunno, special.”

Vaggie smiled. “Lo que quieras, princesa. Pero siempre serás especial para mí, no importa qué.” [Whatever you want, princess. But you will always be special to me, no matter what]

“That’s—umm—I—wow.”

Vaggie laughed at the fact that she had managed to render Charlie speechless, a feat she was sure was not easily accomplished.

Charlie smiled softly, admiring the woman sitting in front of her. “How did I get so lucky?”

Vaggie turned her head away bashfully, though Charlie could still see her mouth turning up in a pleased smile.

Charlie’s own smile brightened as Vaggie’s thumb began tracing random patterns across the back of her hand, sparks skittering up her arm and warming her heart. She nodded to their waiter, thanking him for his service as she paid for their meal.

“Of course, Miss Morningstar. We hope you and your date had a splendid evening. Thank you for dining at ZoZo’s Palace.”

“All set?” Charlie asked once he’d left, to which Vaggie nodded.

As soon as they were side by side, they both reached for the other’s hand, matching grins adorning their faces as their fingers interlaced with one another.

Charlie held the restaurant door open for Vaggie, blushing as Vaggie’s body brushed up against her own as she exited. She quickly joined back up with Vaggie, lightly swinging their hands between them as they walked.

“I’m not ready to head back yet,” Vaggie admitted, looking up at Charlie with a hesitant smile. “Do you think we could go for a walk?”

“Of course! I know just the place,” Charlie replied, relieved to find out Vaggie didn’t want the night to end any more than she did.

As they strolled along the street, Vaggie couldn’t help but notice how much more orderly and peaceful this part of the city was. She supposed that was because this area housed more upscale and upper class citizens. It made sense considering ZoZo’s was located in this area.

That’s not to say there wasn’t still fighting and blood and debauchery and fire, but there wasn’t as much as Vaggie had grown accustomed to seeing, and it made the atmosphere surprisingly peaceful. It also made it cooler than normal, which given that this was Hell, was very much not the norm. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that spread through when a breeze came their way, and Charlie noticed.

“Are you cold?”

“A bit,” Vaggie said, and before she knew it, Charlie had taken her suit jacket off and was handing it to her.

She quietly thanked Charlie as she slipped it on, Charlie’s apple scent so prominent and rich it made her dizzy with warmth and comfort. It was very loose on her and so comically large it reached her thighs, and yet, she had never felt safer.

“It’s so big on you,” Charlie giggled.

“It’s not my fault you’re so tall!” Vaggie argued.

“I’m not that tall, you’re just short.”

“Hey!”

“What? You can’t seriously be telling me I’m wrong about this.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly average height. You’re the one that’s built like a giant.”

“I—wha—that’s not true!”

“Oh, but it is. Look at the people around us, then go ahead and tell me I’m short.”

“...You’re lucky I like you.”

Vaggie looked over at Charlie, tone switching from teasing to something more serious. “Yeah, I really am.”

A comfortable silence lapsed between the two of them, and Vaggie took the opportunity to nestle closer to Charlie. The blonde slung an arm around Vaggie’s shoulders, tucking Vaggie closer into her side, and Vaggie reached up to intertwine her hand with Charlie’s while her other hand settled across Charlie’s waist, fingers resting on the little divot of her hip.

“Here we are,” Charlie said as she pushed open a gate and led the two of them through, the gate clanging shut behind them as Charlie let go of it once they were inside.

“What is this place?” Vaggie asked, looking around the dimly lit, unoccupied park.

“It’s one of my dad’s establishments. He owns a couple of businesses, one of the more commonly known ones is LuLu World. He had this specific park built for my mom, so they could reminisce about their time in Eden. We used to come here as a family a lot when I was a kid. It’s one of my favorite places to visit in all of Hell,” Charlie explained wistfully.

“It’s beautiful,” Vaggie said as she looked around, multiple different colors and types of flora—flowers, trees, plants, etc.—sprouting everywhere and going as far back as the eyes could see. “Thank you for bringing me here. I know it can’t have been easy.”

Charlie shrugged, tipping her head until it was resting against Vaggie’s, a happy sigh escaping as she did so. “Everything seems to be easier when I’m with you.”

They took multiple laps around the well-worn, slightly overgrown path, Charlie pointing out all the plants she could remember, Vaggie listening to her with an adoring smile and a softness in her eye that was reserved for Charlie and Charlie only.

Vaggie didn’t know how long they’d been there, but when she saw Charlie try to stifle a yawn for the third time in a row, she took pity. “As much as I hate to put an end to this, my feet are really starting to kill me.”

“Alright, let’s get you home,” Charlie answered without any hesitation, steering them back towards the gate they had entered the park through.

It was a short walk back to the restaurant, where Razzle and Dazzle had been waiting in the limo. Charlie allowed Vaggie to slip in ahead of her, instructing the boys to take them home when the door closed behind her.

Vaggie immediately melted into Charlie’s side, eye fluttering shut as she rested her head against Charlie’s shoulders, their intertwined hands resting on Vaggie’s lap. “I’ve had an amazing time tonight, Charlie.”

“So have I,” Charlie agreed, resting her own head against Vaggie’s while her eyes shut in content. “Thank you for coming out with me. I’d love to do it again sometime. Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’d love nothing more.”

Vaggie’s answer cut Charlie off before she could begin to ramble, something she suspected Vaggie knew based on how quickly she’d answered her question. “Me too.”

The two of them remained side-by-side for the entirety of the ride, and it took everything in Vaggie’s power to stay awake. But she was just so comfortable, and Charlie was so cozy, and she was surrounded by Charlie’s warmth, and her apple scent that Vaggie adored, and the last thing she recalled as she laid there was how tonight was the best night she’d ever had.

Charlie looked down in surprise when she felt Vaggie’s grip on her hand go lax, biting her lip to contain her squeal at the adorableness when she realized the cause was that Vaggie had fallen asleep. She did her best to remain completely still so she didn’t disturb her sleeping beauty, quietly telling Razzle and Dazzle to be as careful as possible so they didn't startle Vaggie awake with driving over any of the usual clutter that littered the streets.

She moved her hand up to gently brush some loose strands of Vaggie’s bangs back into place, leaning down to press a light, lingering kiss to the top of Vaggie’s head afterwards, her own eyes drifting shut as she thought about just how perfect tonight had been, though not to the point where she fell asleep as well.

The limo rolled to a stop in front of the house, Razzle getting out of the vehicle so he could open the door for Charlie and Vaggie while Dazzle stayed situated behind the wheel, ready to properly park the car after dropping the women off.

“Thanks for all your help tonight, guys,” Charlie said as she gathered Vaggie in her arms, stepping out of the vehicle once she had a secure grip on her.

Charlie followed Razzle into the house, thanking him as he held open the door for her. She started the walk to Vaggie’s room, being sure to keep her footsteps as light as possible so the echoing clacks of her heels wouldn’t cause Vaggie to stir. When she reached the door to Vaggie’s bedroom, Razzle opened the door and got to work undoing the painstakingly made bed, nodding at Charlie once he was done and making a beeline for the door, wanting to give Charlie and Vaggie some privacy.

Sensing she wouldn’t be able to get Vaggie into something more comfortable without awakening her, Charlie laid her date down on the bed and, with a reluctant sigh, started stroking Vaggie’s cheek until the woman started to rouse.

“Mmm, Charlie? Wha’s happenin’?”

She chuckled at Vaggie’s half-asleep, raspy tone. “You fell asleep on the ride home. You’re in bed now.”

Vaggie snuggled deeper into Charlie’s jacket, burying her face in her pillow as her eye shut sleepily. “Don’t wanna move. ‘m comfy,” she slurred out.

“You aren’t going to be comfortable sleeping in your clothes. I can help you change into some pajamas so you can get out of this.”

Vaggie whined, shaking her head. “‘m comfy,” she repeated.

Charlie’s grin was nothing but fond as she tugged Vaggie into a sitting position, giggling as Vaggie merely slumped into her side and fell asleep almost instantly. “Come on, it won’t take long. I promise.”

Vaggie, half-asleep, reluctantly allowed a now fiercely blushing Charlie to remove her clothes, leaving her in her undergarments.

Charlie quickly grabbed the baggy t-shirt sitting on the edge of Vaggie’s bed and slipped it over the woman, unclipping Vaggie’s bra and tossing it to the floor once the shirt had completely covered her chest. She then helped Vaggie slip her arms into the sleeves, urging her to lay down so she could pull the covers over Vaggie, lips quirked up in amusement as Vaggie grabbed Charlie’s jacket from where it was strewn across the pillows and tucked it close to her chest, nose pressed so deeply into the fabric Charlie would’ve been worried about her suffocating if her breathing hadn’t remained the same.

“Goodnight, Vaggie. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Charlie whispered, leaning down to kiss Vaggie’s forehead, hand cupping Vaggie’s cheek as she did so.

“‘night hun,” Vaggie murmured, smiling sleepily up at Charlie through a half-lidded gaze.

Charlie’s heart seized in her chest at the sight, and it took everything in her not to just clamber into bed with Vaggie and fall asleep with the woman wrapped up in her arms. “Sweet dreams,” she settled on saying to a now fully asleep Vaggie, switching off the lights.

Only when the door shut behind her did Charlie allow her emotions to bubble up. She danced and twirled down the hall to her own room, squealing in happiness when she entered.

Razzle and Dazzle looked at one another bemusedly as Charlie babbled to them about her evening while she got herself ready for bed, talking so much about Vaggie that they were learning more about what Charlie thought about her than about their actual outing together, which they took as a sign that the date had gone extremely well. They couldn’t contain their bleats of excitement when Charlie revealed that Vaggie had agreed to be her partner for the hotel.

“I’m just, I’m so happy I feel like I could pop!” Charlie exclaimed as she fell back onto her bed, her smile having been plastered on her face from the second she left Vaggie’s room. It only widened when Razzle and Dazzle flew over to lay down on either side of her, heads resting on her stomach as they looked at her happily. “I can’t believe she said yes to another date! With me!”

“Baa! Baa!” said Razzle.

“Baa!” Dazzle added in agreement with his brother.

“I can’t wait,” Charlie sighed.

That’s how she fell asleep; bracketed by her two most trusted companions in the world, a smile on her face, with sweet dreams of Vaggie, her best friend and hopefully future girlfriend.

Thank you for reading! P.S.— Their date outfits were inspired by an amazing artist here on Tumblr. I highly encourage you all to check it out if you haven't! Also the AO3 link is here as well!

#chaggiefirsts #starmothfirsts #chaggie #vaggie x charlie #charlie x vaggie #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #charlie hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie

[a-little-unsteddie]

hello, hello, are you lonely?

WARNING: this is gonna hurt. like, a fuck ton. like i cried a lot while writing it.

loosely based off of the song ‘Mr. Forgettable’ by David Kushner. if you want a hint before reading, listen to that song.

(also tagged: Major Character Death)

—

As all things in old age are, it was slow at first.

Steve would forget where he placed his keys the day before, or he would forget where he put the remote, or something similar. Things that on their own, didn’t really mean anything but a busy, distracted mind. That coupled with forgetting conversations that happened earlier in the day and forgetting important dates that he never would have normally forced the rest of the party to accept that Steve was declining mentally with his age.

At first, it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. Steve, outside of those moments of confusion, was still himself. He would play with the grandkids, he would cook, bake, do all of the things he loved doing.

Then, Steve started to forget people. Places. Time.

Eddie and Robin did their best to take care of him, make sure he was comfortable, but it was clear to everyone that Steve was declining. In the end, they had to admit him to the hospital, knowing that neither Eddie nor Robin were getting any younger. The rest of the party had argued, saying that one of them should take care of Steve, but Eddie and Robin knew they had their own lives—and when Steve was lucid, he agreed that he should be in the hospital.

That was three months ago now.

Since then, there had been plenty of rough patches. Days where Eddie and Robin would go in, and Steve would only recognize Robin, or the other way around. Days where Steve would ask for his mother, even though he had been cut off in his early twenties, and had been dead for a decade at least.

They (Eddie, really) had figured out that music helped Steve remember, but there were days where not even Eddie playing guitar would bring any recognition across his face.

It was like any other day, both Robin and Eddie were visiting, the kids—albeit, the kids had their own kids by this point, as mentioned—took turns visiting, and today Dustin was meant to be visiting later. It was an off day, meaning Steve barely recognized Eddie, let alone Robin. Eddie brought his guitar, as he did everyday. He had yet to get it out, testing the waters to see how Steve was doing.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie said, sitting next to him. The television in the room was playing softly in the background, some movie Eddie vaguely recognized. Steve’s gaze flickered to him, recognition flashing for a moment before he smiled warmly at Eddie.

“Hey, Ed,” Steve responded, smiling vacantly as he turned his gaze to Robin. “Who ya got with ya?” He asked, which caused the pit in Eddie’s stomach to sink deeper. Robin felt sick to her stomach at the thought of Steve not remembering her, but she knew he had no control over what was forgotten. She knew he was grasping at sand, holding tightly onto what he did have even as more slipped away.

“Hey, dingus,” she whispered, trying not to cry. It never got easier to be around Steve like this, but she would never abandon him to go through this alone. She knew his greatest fear was dying alone, forgotten in a hospital room, left to rot. She would die before she let that fear come true.

“This is Robin, you know her,” Eddie reminded gently, watching Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he tried to place a face to the name, but came up blank.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said to her, feeling it was important to let her know he was. He knew she was important, as he felt happy upon seeing her, but beyond that, there was nothing. He reached out to both of them, wanting to hold their hands. Eddie choked back a cry, putting his hand into Steve’s, who instantly laced their fingers together. Robin gripped Steve’s other hand tightly, smiling even as tears fell down her face. Steve smiled and went back to watching whatever was on the television, rubbing his thumb along their hands.

Robin looked at Eddie, “Where’s Dustin?” She asked softly, not to disturb Steve. The others had managed to visit in the last week or so, but Dustin was finally just able to get a flight in that day, so he would be the last one in this batch of visitors.

Eddie looked away from Steve’s face to look at Robin. “His flight was delayed, he should be arriving around 5.” Robin looked at the time, 2:12. She nodded, settling into the hospital chair next to Steve’s bed, content to watch whatever movie Steve was. Her eyes widened. It was Back to the Future. Her face crumpled, but she quickly schooled her expression into something less devastated. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“This is a good movie,” she said to Steve, who nodded.

“Me and my best friend were really high when I watched it the first time,” Steve said, which was just another stab in Robin’s heart. That was her that Steve was talking about. She let out an unsteady breath, closing her eyes tightly. “It’s still my favorite.”

“It’s my favorite, too,” Robin said in return, smiling softly at her best friend. Steve looked at her and grinned before turning his attention back to the TV.

An hour or so later, Eddie brought out his guitar. Steve lit up at the sight of the acoustic guitar, smiling excitedly.

“I love when you play, Eds,” Steve said excitedly, to which Eddie grinned.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said, playing a few chords. As he played, Steve seemed to become more aware. After a few minutes of playing, Steve looked around with a frown.

“Where are the gremlins?” He asked, looking around the hospital room.

Eddie and Robin paused what they were doing to look at Steve in surprise. It had been several weeks since he asked after the kids using that term. It was something that he had lost early on in his decline. Eddie and Robin looked at each other apprehensively, eyes wide.

“Oh—Dustin, he’s flying, so he’ll be in soon. Lucas is visiting family up state, Max and El are with him. Mike and Will are looking at houses this week,” Eddie informed him, smiling warmly as his husband seemed to come to life.

“Good! I miss them,” Steve said, smiling. “It’ll be nice to have everyone around again. It’s been too long.” He said, leaning back against the bed.

Eddie and Robin made eye contact, smiling grimly at each other. They would take what they could get from Steve, but they knew this moment of clarity would soon pass. They had long since stopped hoping he would retain the clarity, having those hopes squashed early on in the process. The doctors had informed them that as he worsened, these moments of clarity would become less and less, and then would get one big moment of clarity before passing. Every time that Steve would remember, Eddie and Robin held their breath.

“Eds, can you play our song?” He asked, looking at his husband with such fondness, and who was Eddie to deny his husband anything?

“Of course, Stevie,” he said, beginning to strum the correct chords to the song. Steve hummed with it, looking at Robin.

“This was the song we danced at during our wedding,” he said, sighing deeply. “The best damn day of my life,” he said softly, smiling at Eddie.

Eddie smiled softly in return, “Best day of my life, too, baby,” he agreed with a nod. Steve laughed brightly, motioning Eddie over, who went closer easily. Steve pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss, causing Robin to pretend to gag even as joy filled her entire being. Moments like these it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong, that Steve wasn’t sitting on his deathbed, waiting for the inevitable. Like they weren’t waiting for the inevitable.

“Oh, hush, Robbie,” Steve scoffed, which only caused Robin to laugh at him. Steve settled back against the bed, content to listen to the music that Eddie was playing. Robin felt like she was flying, though she knew this clarity wouldn’t last, she would savor it as long as it lasted.

The following hour was filled with Steve, Robin and Eddie talking and laughing about shared memories, reliving their youth through their memories. It was so rare that Eddie was able to see his husband—not literally, he saw him every day, he more meant that he so rarely saw the husband he married, so often he was lost in the fog inside his mind. Eddie was thankful for every moment they shared, knowing they were going to come to an end eventually.

Steve seemed to get more tired, settling down for a nap as Eddie played. He was still holding Robin’s hand and his other hand resting on Eddie’s knee, which was the only part of him he could reach without distracting Eddie’s playing.

“Hey Eds?” He asked, fluttering his eyes open. Eddie hummed, looking at Steve fondly. “Could you play our song again?” He asked, voice weak and quiet. Eddie’s guts twisted, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line as he started strumming the familiar chords.

“Yeah, Stevie. Always for you.” He said softly, trying to control his breathing as he played.

“Mm,” Steve hummed in return, his eyelids fluttering shut. “Love you, Eddie dear,” he breathed, before stilling.

“Love you, too, Stevie darling.”

—

disclaimer: probably unrealistic alzheimers/dementia, sorry! i based some of it off of my grandpa, but he didnt have those, he had a different thing due to agent orange in the war?? i can’t remember—parkinsons?? maybe? either way, so loosely based off of that and what i read about alzheimers/dementia.

#i warned y’all #this one is SAD sad #in case it wasnt clear: dustin doesn’t to say goodbye to steve because he’s flying in #and his flight was delayed #whereas everyone else is insinuated to have visited recently #(ignoring the older party members bc i forgot to write them in so shh) #sorry not really #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #st #steve harrington x eddie munson #hurt/no comfort #major character death #insinuated death #steve dies #steve harrington death #dementia/alzheimers #dementia #alzheimers #probably not really accurate though

[bloggingboutburgers]

What are some LDR green flags and some LDR red flags? (bonus points if there's some ace specific ones)

Sorry I took forever to answer that one TwT

I mostly saw a lot of green flags in my own LDR, so it was hard to find red flags at all hehe TwT So I had to talk it over with my partner to get their side too...

In terms of green flags, like I said, I've experienced a lot, but I would say a surefire one is vibing for the same activities to do (either remotely or during the times you can meet in person), and of course, it might sound silly, but just the sheer realization that meeting in person doesn't feel weird, that it just feels either as good or even better than speaking remotely. It speaks volumes. (Ace-wise, personally, I would say few things can beat the feeling of being with that person physically, maybe cuddling and whatnot, and being like "...Ah, wow, I feel really safe with them." It's an ugly reality of at least my own ace experience but I have basic fears of being even the slightest form of physically intimate with most people for a long while; I used not to but then I realized that some people will want that to lead to more, and while that's never put me in danger, it definitely was a cold shower to remember. So... Yeah. Feeling safe is wow.)

Some points that my partner and I would advise to be mindful of, so it doesn't turn into a red flag, would be the following:

Be transparent of when the other person is available/up to talk/etc, and be transparent if YOU're not available or not feeling it today, otherwise it can lead to worries.

Don’t cut the line of communication in the event of an argument. It can be tempting, using a remote speaking service, to just hang up if things escalate, but it won't solve anything. Taking a break is fine, but it's important to basically take the argument to a calmer conclusion, and work out dynamics to calm things down and feel better, not let resentment or stress simmer on forever.

On a similar line, don't bottle up if you feel bad. If the person can't see you, or at least not as often, it might be harder for them to pick up on signals of you don't being as well, so it's important to mention if needed.

Getting your parents and friends to respect your relationship and the time you devote to it. Now that one was tough for my partner and I because we weren't out to our families for quite a while, to preserve ourselves, but that also meant basically that, externally speaking, our families just saw us as texting someone a lot or videochatting a lot, which the less open-minded people will associate with not having a life. It's important to advocate that it's important, even to yourself, if nobody else will do it. And that's definitely a tricky one that you might need to fight for.

Overall basically always communicate and have a genuine want to work on things. LDRs are work, but they're definitely worth it if they make you happy.

#THAT'S VERY LONG BUT I HOPE THAT HELPED #long distance relationship #ldr struggles #ldr community #anon

[stiffyck]

"Scar-" Grian started, hand outstretched towards the trembling man in front of him. "I need you to listen-"

"NO!" Scar retorted. "You need to listen, for once in your fucking life just SHUT UP and let me speak!"

Scar was panting at this point, and appeared to be steeling himself for an argument. Grian, however, just drew back his hand with a heartbroken expression on his face.

"'All alliances from last season are null and void.'" Scar quoted, his smile turning into a vindictive sneer. "'Oh, come with me Mumbo, it'll be so much more fun.' 'You'll be fine, you have Joel.' You couldn't have made it more obvious you didn't want me around if you'd tried."

Grian opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Scar gave a manic laugh, tears threatening to spill over in his eyes.

"You know, me and Cleo are similar in many ways." Scar began, staring daggers into his- friend? Did Grian deserve that title now?-'s face. "Both pretty good in pvp. Both have pasts we'd rather not discuss. Both of us would do anything for those we care about." The elf took a step closer. "And neither of us take kindly to being betrayed."

Grian gulped, but Scar was still not done with his rant.

"We have different ways of dealing with that betrayal, though, don't we Grian? Surely you saw Cleo hunting BigB down until she was able to take his final life. Surely you must've noticed the suspicious lack of Scars hunting you?"

"Scar, that was all in a different server!" Grian pleaded.

"Oh, I know." Scar said. He started laughing again. At first, it seemed like a laugh of intense anger, but to those who knew him well- as Grian did- it was obviously meant to cover up extreme heartbreak. "All relationships ended, huh? Just tell me the truth. I know you hate me, you don't have to keep hiding it." His voice lowered. "It's okay, really Grian. I would hate me too. I just wish you'd say it and stop dancing around something anybody can see."

"Wha- Scar I don't hate you! I never did, how could I possibly hate you? If you'd just let me explain-" He was cut off by a harsh bark of a laugh from Scar. The man grinned, but there was no joy in his eyes.

"It's my legs that don't work, not my brain, Grian." Scar turned around, and started to move away. "I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot."

Do I have any clue what this was? No. It obviously takes place post-ll, but I was mainly just writing words as they come to mind. I can see quite a few plot hole and things I'd normally fix, but I honestly can't be bothered today. Here's an example of a not even remotely proofread first draft of mine guys! Hopefully I at least managed to capture some of what my goal was, because I know that if I go back and fix it I'll end up spending 20 minutes trying to fix this and I don't have the time to do that. Feel free to critique it, god knows the perfectionistic editor in me is desperately trying to.

ANXJFKDNSBA WAAAAA OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDDD

THIS IS SOOOO GOOD I LOVE THIS

#stiff talk #asks #gtws #grian #gtws angst #desert duo #angst

[perilus]

Hey Tina, hope you're doing well :)

I don't usually do this, but I thought I'd ask for your opinion given the fact that we're of similar age and you seem really smart :)

So I'm turning 23 in 2 weeks and I feel.. stuck

I feel like I can't separate myself from my family (who aren't very supportive haha) and subsequently, I feel an intense need to leave and be independent. But I can't grow in the things that I love because I feel like a song as I don't do what they want me to do, then I'm not entitled to the things I want to do. Besides that, I suffer from anxiety and depression, and I just can't bring myself to develop in any way.

I feel like I'm stuck in my own little dream world that I created, and the biggest problem is that you don't want to leave. I wonder if you have ever been in a similar situation or if you just have any advice

Thank you either way (even if you don't have time to answer ♡ I know it's kind of a heavy question)

Lots of love♡ stay safe :)

Hey :)

I’m not usually this vulnerable/open about my personal life online either, but:

Funny enough, (hardly funny at all actually), I am in the exact situation as you are 😭. My family is not supportive of my growth at all. They don’t know much about my dreams, and what they do know, they use against me. They reduce my interests in things like literature and music to signs of immaturity and lack of real discipline. What my family wants is obedience. They care about me as a daughter, but do not care about me as a person. At all. I cannot be my full self around them. I cannot share my dreams with them. I have learned to avoid sharing myself with them, to keep them from gaining more ammunition to use on me when they want to belittle me, call me unrealistic and incapable, punish me for being some way that disagrees with them, etc. They definitely do not know about my blogs/vlogs, haha. I feel like I’m more myself here than in everyday life.

I feel stuck too. All I can do is develop my mind in my free time through literature and media I find online, at night when I’m finally alone and no one expects anything from me. I suppose if I had any advice it would be to stay curious, keep learning, and keep discovering the things you like and want.

It’s hard. You love them, you want them to love you, you’ve done so much for their approval but they’re never really satisfied, you’ve never done enough, maybe you have a sibling who is half as disciplined as you are yet is effortlessly favored whereas you are not, despite having put in twice as much effort for that approval they so effortlessly receive 🙄😔. They might have more freedom than you do, because maybe you were born as a gender you cannot control, and despite how smart you might be, you cannot control that they will only ever see you as a woman, who should perform the “female” duties of the house, stay at home, work remotely, whereas your sibling is conveniently male, granting him freedom that you can’t have, because he does not have the responsibilities that were forced on you. By “you” I meant me. Yet, I don’t want to sever myself from my family, they are all I have. Ugh. Anyway, I have to help take care of my family because they’re the only people I have, but it inhibits me from growing. It’s such a confusing place to be in. And depressing and unfair and it makes me feel so so alone. I know I said in a previous Q&A that you should leave the people who don’t appreciate you at your most authentic, but in the case of family, it’s a bit different. It’s complicated.

I really wish I was in a position to give advice on this. I need it too.

But, I hope a window opens up for you soon; some opportunity to help you out of where you are in life, if that’s what you dream about. If that opportunity takes a while, I hope things aren’t too hard on you in the meantime. I see you, you’re not alone.

Much love,

Tina

#tina e answers

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

There was nothing remotely Arctic Monkeyesque on Walls though unless you count Louis' Yorkshire accent which was similar to Alex's on the initial records. The greatest being inspired by Oasis oh is it because it sounds like something you would listen to if wanted to get pumped for a football match, you know football - oasis?

Its like you got the cliff notes for a book review from somewhere and muddled the whole thing up when trying to reword it.

Also, Copy's studio version is not even released what is she talking about it being a "hit" in terms of commercial success?

Even if we ignore the rest of her review which was basically I wanted to go to a Harry show but ended up on a Louis show because I am not successful enough to write a Harry puff piece, her review was I don't really know much about music and concerts to be able critique anything based on what I was hearing and seeing so I am going to rely on what I have heard about Louis' music from other sources.

Here’s that review, and a translation:

Seven years since One Direction split, only one ex-member can still claim superstar status. Yet it wasn’t Harry Styles who fans camped out for overnight in sub-zero temperatures this week. It was Louis Tomlinson, until recently the least successful of the former famous five.

“I really wish I was reviewing a Harry Styles concert, but I’m neither qualified nor connected enough. Fucking hate Louis.”

Slow to settle on a solo sound, the Yorkshire-born 30-year-old aped his idols Oasis and Arctic Monkeys on his widely derided debut album Walls in 2020. He did much the same on last month’s follow-up, Faith in the Future, yet something had changed. That one went to No 1.

“I’m pretty sure I would hate Walls, though I’ve never heard it. Never heard Faith In The Future either, but every northern band wants to be Oasis, that’s what my dad says. Never heard Oasis either.”

Live, Tomlinson could still be finding his feet. His Walls world tour was cancelled due to Covid and even this show arrived a month late after the singer broke his arm. Initially, he did little other than hang Liam Gallagher-like on the mike stand, a slight figure in what could have passed for workout gear, and sprinkle swear words among his basic banter.

“God, I wish he broke his other arm. Why isn’t he wearing pink bellbottom pants? Heteronormative little bastard. Fucking this fucking that. Fuck you.”

His almost exclusively female fans, on the other hand, were up for a party and perhaps the loudest singalongs Shepherds Bush has heard all year. The surprise was how strong the songs sounded.

“I hate that his songs were good.”

Backed by a five-piece rock band, Tomlinson more than held his own despite his not notably distinctive vocals. His opener The Greatest was clearly indebted to Oasis, but its bolshiness and catchy chorus meant it didn’t matter. Even the poppier Kill My Mind had swagger, while Written All Over Your Face had a sleazy funk undercurrent that brought to mind Black Grape.

“Louis is such a basic white man. He’s like any other basic white man, except damn, this song is dirty and catchy? Even though I know Harry is supposed to be dirtier and sexier because… duh, orgies. Nudes. Titties. Why are my feet dancing?”

By mid-show Tomlinson had taken to prowling the stage, handing huge chunks of songs over to chanting fans and, occasionally, looking as if he might crowd surf. He didn’t, but the more confident he grew, the more electric the atmosphere.

“He can’t sing. He can’t sing. If I repeat this fifty times, I know it’ll be true. I don’t care that I’m getting a little heated, it’s not because of Louis because he can’t sing and he’s not sexy. I know this. I know this!”

Copy of a Copy of a Copy, officially an unreleased song, was a rocky monster that could give Tomlinson his first solo hit single. Walls, performed as an acoustic ditty, was greeted like Wonderwall. The only One Direction song on the set list, Night Changes, sounded tame by comparison.

“Ugh he sounds better than 1D. Fuck.”

Tomlinson may lack the inventiveness and sex appeal of Styles, but for simple singalongs, he’s now 1D’s go-to guy.

“I feel bad that I had a good time. The world feels wrong. Wanna go home and read my Y/N Harry fics.”

[nettleshuttle]

it never ceases to amaze me how quattro and shark’s relationship (“relationship”) is developed in the canon. the whole backstory dropped during WDC preliminaries/WDC itself arcs was pretty nice and reasonable, taking into account tron’s masterminding etc, but then the series just… did a summersault, landing in their tag and another one that got us to their Barian war duel. and if the nonsense didn’t show that much in the former (disclaimer: i still think it did), it just went wild around the latter.

first of all: gay. really, the whole concept of quattro/nasch duel and some of the lines delivered in the meantime are just immaculate. or rather — would be, if it tied up to anything previously said on their relation. that gets us to the “second of all” part: dude says it after setting shark up to get him disqualified from a tournament and nearly killing his beloved sister, with almost nothing happening between that and their current situation. and there’s a lot of similar declarations, like “even if you say that the bond of friendship between us is dead…” going on — what bond of friendship exactly?? cause i certainly didn’t catch you having one.

there may be something about the fact that to shark quattro’s suicidal sacrifice was shocking actually because they never had much of a relationship — if such a self-centered guy, who spent a lot of time hating shark and has little personal interest in rescuing him, decides to do something like this, well, this means shit’s serious. nonetheless, quattro still has a lot of audacity to say this stuff. besides, i assume he’s honest about the whole endeavor (after all, he leaves his brothers knowing they’ll most probably get killed by the Barians to do so) and that devotion appears to be taken out of nowhere. it would make remote sense as a guilt-motivated will to make up for all the times he tried to ruin shark’s life (and succeeded, mostly), but it really doesn’t come off as such and taking into account quattro’s personality, i don’t feel like that’s a drive he’d have.

or the way they call themselves each other’s number one fan?? this starts right on their first meeting after quattro drew shark into WDC and i get that it was probably meant to sound ironic and/or revengeful….. but it doesn’t. shark’s obviously ridiculing quattro’s stage persona and regarding quattro, i guess he was just parroting shark’s line to ridicule him in turn, though the later admiration may actually be genuine. they carry on doing it in their tag, where i assume it has a more friendly undertone, but i just can’t describe it otherwise than as very gay and very random throughout the whole of zexal.

on a more positive note: i see how they can bond over being older brothers that try to keep their families together and look after their siblings (each in his own way — let’s say quattro’s trying). that should make them more able and more inclined to understand each other’s actions (not in terms of justification or forgiveness, mind you). quattro refers to it directly (or almost directly) in their tag, making the idea more than just a speculation, though it still doesn’t nearly account for the change in their respective attitudes over the series.

it used to really annoy me, the way their dynamic (which has huge conceptual potential) takes such sudden, immense turns, rendering the whole relationship surreal and strongly unrealistic, but i don’t think i even care anymore to be honest. does it make sense? definitely damn no. do i still dig the ship? absolutely. i’m just taking note of how the creators could have easily made it even better, without all the rush and confusion (well, doing things, especially redemption arcs, in a needlessly sped-up manner is a general yugioh flaw).

#yugioh #zexal #zexal spoilers #ygozexal #quattro #shark kastle #ryouga kamishiro #disqualifyshipping #random complaining

[mariacallous]

LIMA, Peru—When Dina Boluarte was abruptly sworn in on Dec. 7, 2022, the fact that she was the first female president in Peru’s 201-year history was widely noted, yet barely explored by Peruvian media. Journalists had other things on their minds: Boluarte’s inauguration took place just hours after her predecessor Pedro Castillo was impeached for attempting to dissolve Congress and rule by decree, bringing down the curtain on a 17-month administration that had tipped the Andean republic into unremitting political instability and chaos.

Boluarte’s professional credentials as a lawyer felt like a qualitative leap forward for the presidency—regardless of the fact that she, like her predecessor, had never held public office before becoming vice president for the self-declared Marxist-Leninist Free Peru party in the June 2021 elections.

The youngest of 14 children from a working-class family in the remote Andean market town of Chalhuanca, nearly 10,000 feet above sea level, Boluarte said in her maiden presidential speech that her priority would be to fight for “the nobodies, the excluded, the others, to have the opportunity and access that has historically been denied to them.”

“More than a politician, I am a Peruvian citizen and mother who fully understands the high responsibility that history has put on my shoulders,” she declared. “Responding to that high responsibility is [a show of] my respect for the millions of Peruvian mothers who day after day provide sustenance for their families.”

Now, three months since Boluarte’s swearing in, her presidency has descended into a dark mess of severe human rights violations, its legitimacy decimated by allegations of principle-free political opportunism, brutal authoritarianism, and racism. It looks increasingly inevitable that Peru’s first ever female president will face a similar fate to Castillo, the country’s first ever campesino president (in Peru, the term means someone of indigenous ancestry who works the land), with a post-presidency dogged by legal problems and a potentially lengthy jail sentence.

At the time of writing, 48 Peruvians had been killed by security forces, some while protesting violently; some while demonstrating peacefully; and some who were just bystanders, including a medical intern treating an injured protester. Another dozen people died after protestors’ road blockades prevented them from receiving emergency medical treatment, and one police officer was found dead in a burnt-out patrol car.

In a searing report released in February, Amnesty International warned that Boluarte had presided over an out-of-control police and armed forces that, motivated by “systemic racism ingrained in Peruvian society,” had repeatedly violated international human rights standards by using “lethal ammunition to control demonstrations.” Many Peruvians view Boluarte as having blood on her hands. Three-quarters want her to resign.

“We are not celebrating her presidency,” Indigenous feminist activist Tarcila Rivera Zea said. “For us, it has meant pain and sadness, with so many deaths. More than anything else, it is a feeling of frustration and disappointment.

Boluarte, 60, who is bilingual in Spanish and the indigenous Quechua language, started her presidency relatively well. Indeed, in her inaugural address, she distanced herself from Castillo, referencing her “revulsion” at his flagrant alleged graft and condemning his “attempted coup.” Having been expelled from the Free Peru party nearly a year earlier after openly disagreeing with the party’s more extreme politics—and after managing to stay clear of her predecessor’s endless corruption scandals—she had some credibility in the matter.

But her legacy, to the extent she has one, will remain inseparable from that of her predecessor. This is not only a matter of the authoritarian excesses of her leadership over security forces, but also her emphasis on social conservatism, which has been one of the few areas of common ground between Free Peru’s presidential administrations and the hard-right congressional majority. Free Peru’s campaign manifesto has even been accused of advocating “machismo Leninism” for accusing the state of “subcontracting” its obligation to provide for the children of separated parents to absent fathers by requiring them to pay child support.

“It’s also a lesson learned,” Rivera Zea added. “What her presidency shows is that it is not enough to be a woman or speak Quechua if you don’t have that sensibility or identification with the historically excluded. She could have been a president who showed strength, wisdom, justice, and respect for human rights. Instead, she has aligned herself with the worst in Peruvian politics.”

Far from being carried on the back of a feminist wave, Boluarte’s rise to power came at a particularly challenging time for gender rights in Peru, even as some other Latin American nations have been relaxing restrictions on abortion and increasingly tackling gender violence. Peru was already one of the most socially conservative societies in Latin America, with what are thought to be some of the highest rates of sexual violence in the region, and where abortion is only allowed in cases where the mother’s health is at risk.

It is unclear whether Boluarte has ever identified with the feminist movement, although she has shown an appreciation of gender issues. “[Boluarte’s] not a feminist in the sense of a feminist activist,” Alexandra Ames, a political scientist at Lima’s University of the Pacific, said. “But she’s definitely a woman who feels that she has got ahead by working hard, harder than men would normally have to, and seems to have that awareness.”

While she was vice president, Boluarte also served as minister for development and social inclusion, a role that would normally have a strong gender component. During that time, gender rights came under a sustained assault from lawmakers, one that might have been met with effective resistance from a different executive.

Members of Congress sought to further restrict already highly limited abortion rights with a blanket ban, and change the name of the Ministry of Women to the Ministry for the Family—a switch that in Peru’s machista society could have potentially life-and-death policy consequences for, for example, women facing abusive partners.

But the most damaging counter reform has been a new law allowing parents to block classes with a gender focus—or, as Peruvian conservatives call it, gender ideology.

First introduced to the national curriculum in 2004, gender focus concepts, which include sex education, were aimed at raising awareness among boys and girls of the harms caused by Peru’s patriarchal culture—everything from wage disparities to femicide. Conservatives, often fundamentalist evangelical Christians, caricature gender focus as “cultural Marxism” that encourages premature sexual activity and pressures children into homosexuality and transgenderism.

“Getting rid of gender focus will do enormous damage,” warned Gloria Montenegro, former minister of women. “You’re getting rid of sex education, of a girl’s right to understand herself, to make informed choices, or have good self-esteem. What is so lamentable is that in Peru, we already have so many cases of physical and sexual abuse, of women being raped, often in their own homes, and this is going to make all of that worse.”

Throughout the debate over the curriculum, Boluarte was notable for her silence. She did, at different points during her work as a minister, show protocolary support for gendered development policies, including to empower indigenous women. But she failed to provide any substantive leadership, much less confront the attack on gender focus.

Boluarte did restore gender parity in her government after Castillo’s notorious cabinet appointments, which were not just overwhelmingly male but frequently involved ministers with a track record of misogynistic statements and even domestic abuse—including, briefly, one prime minister.

Ironically, however, that parity was just a return to the status quo ante in a country which, despite its entrenched patriarchy, had previously had some half dozen female prime ministers. Indeed, at one point, just before Castillo’s surprise election victory, almost all the major roles of state barring the presidency had been occupied by women, including the prime minister, foreign minister, defense minister, speaker of Congress, chief prosecutor, head of the judiciary, and chair of the constitutional court.

Boluarte’s term is scheduled to end in 2026, although the deadly repression of anti-government protests means she faces huge and potentially irresistible pressure to resign. Either way, her story as Peru’s first female president seems unlikely to end happily.

Montenegro said Boluarte’s mistake was not realizing she didn’t need to cross the political aisle to build a base of power. “She abandoned the Free Peru program, which, as a party of the left, had a strong social agenda, especially for rural Peru,” she said. “She’s an Andean woman; she should have understood. Where’s the political skill, the ability to broker political compromise and then sell that to the population?”

Protesters are now demanding a constituent assembly to draft a new constitution capable of addressing stark economic injustices. However, a new constitution could also entrench gender inequality. Although there have been no polls on the issue of gender rights in a new constitution, surveys show that most voters want a conservative Magna Carta when it comes to social issues, including prohibiting same-sex marriage and reinstating both compulsory military service and the death penalty.

As for Boluarte personally, the moment she loses her presidential immunity she faces criminal exposure as a head of government who presided over heavily armed police and soldiers gunning down anti-government protesters.

“She’s going to have very serious problems with the justice system,” Montenegro said. “She doesn’t seem to understand that there is no statute of limitations for human rights violations.”

[nobodysdaydreams]

❓ any WIP snippet you want! 😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

Not going to overload things at this point!! (But, mayhaps later...)

I hope you are having a good day <3

I am! Always nice to hear from you Sophie. I hope you enjoy these!

❓Any snippet I want? Very well. Here's a little teaser I like to call: "Giving the people what they want".

Curtain arrived at his office and pulled himself together just in time to be joined by his lunch guest.

“Where do you want her sir?” asked one of the greys, shoving Miss. Perumal forward.

“Oh, there’s no need for such roughness Cynthia, though I appreciate the precautions,” answered Curtain. “Please, undo those handcuffs. Miss. Perumal, it is so lovely to meet you, please allow me to apologize for all this chaos. May I call you Dipika?”

“No, you may not,” answered Miss. Perumal, sizing up her opponent.

More organized than Mr. Benedict, meticulous to a fault it would seem, in fact their styles seemed almost like night and day, likely a source of conflict between them in their youth.

Dipika glanced around the room and notice that Curtain's office had a dining table set for two with a freshly prepared meal waiting.

Curtain noticed her staring at the table behind him.

“Ah, very perceptive,” he noted. “Yes, I was hoping to get to know you better, explain things over a nice lunch. After your journey you must be famished, and I’d hate to be an inhospitable host.”

Explaining things over a meal. It was the same offer Mr. Benedict and his friends had given her when she met them in the woods.

“I don’t suppose I have a choice, do I?” Dipika asked.

😍I might have already posted about this, but I loved writing these SOS lines, so I'm posting it again. I think it's pretty self-explanatory, I love character parallels!

Constance silently took the remote and turned off the television, still staring at the screen so that Curtain’s face was replaced with her own when the screen went black.

“I remind you of him,” she said finally, after a moment’s pause. “Don’t I?”

“Who?” asked Nicholas.

“Nathaniel,” she replied.

Nicholas didn’t respond, stunned by the shock of hearing his brother’s name come out of someone’s mouth other than his own.

“That was his name,” said Constance, “wasn’t it? Before he called himself Curtain.”

“Well…um, yes,” Nicholas admitted, “but how did-”

“You called me that. Just now,” Constance explained, “when you were talking to me about chess.”

“Oh,” said Nicholas slowly, as he realized the gravity of his mistake.

“Well,” he continued awkwardly, taking a seat next to his roommate. “I… I didn’t realize that, and I’m deeply sorry about that Constance. I never meant to imply any kind of similarity, it’s just that…in many ways you children remind me of the way that he used to be. Kate at times can be just as independent and headstrong as he was, and Reynie and Sticky, each in their own ways, often remind me of my brother and of myself at that age. I believe my brother thought so as well, and the boys and I have had some discussions about that-”

“But it’s different with me,” Constance interrupted, “isn’t it?”

Nicholas looked back at his roommate’s knowing stare and wasn’t sure what to say.

Truthfully, it was different. Constance sometimes acted so similar to the way his brother had, almost identically in fact, but Nicholas had never thought that was a bad thing. If anything, she reminded Nicholas of who his brother really was, the sort of person he could become again. He hadn’t meant it to imply that Constance was in danger of becoming like Curtain, in fact the very idea sounded so absurd the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.  

“Perhaps,” Nicholas admitted, “but only in the best of ways Constance. You remind me of the good person my brother once was-”

“He’s not a good person!” Constance objected, “That’s why no one wanted to adopt him. That’s why he started the Emergency. That’s why he goes on television and spreads lies about us.”

“My brother,” Nicholas replied hesitantly, beginning to feel overwhelmed, “has been through a lot-”

“You still blame yourself,” Constance noted, “It isn’t your fault he’s so awful. He made his own choices.”

Nicholas sighed and hung his head, unsure of how to continue.

The two sat in silence for a minute before Constance spoke again.

“Is that why you wanted to adopt me?”

Nicholas looked up at her.

“As a way to make up for leaving him? Or because you wish you could go back and change what happened?”

Nicholas wasn’t sure how to answer that question. A large part of him said no, that he loved Constance, and would always love her as his daughter, even if she never thought of him as her family, simply because she, all by herself, was so wonderful. And she deserved to feel loved, and safe, and special.

But there was a smaller, more sinister voice inside of Nicholas that smirked at the thought.

“Please,” it said, “as if this isn’t just another pathetic attempt to make up for your guilt. Even the girl can see right through it. And you call her wonderful, as if you actually cared about her, when you know that if she was in Nathaniel's place all those years ago, you would have left her too.”

Nicholas wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to argue with the voice, to say that that wasn’t true, or that it was a hypothetical scenario they would never have the answer to that didn’t matter anyway, but… he just couldn’t. After all, he had left his own brother. Who’s to say he wouldn’t disappoint this child too? Maybe he really was that horrible.

Thanks for the ask; I hope you're having a lovely evening!

#tmbs #the mysterious benedict society #mysterious benedict society #mbs disney #tmbs disney #ledroptha curtain #nathaniel benedict #ld curtain #dipika perumal #miss perumal #mbs fanfic #tmbs fanfic #sos #mbs sos #tmbs sos #Bods Answers

[ohdontbothernone]

the problem with my writing phases is that they tend to end abruptly, without any respect for the state of my WIPs.

of course, it’s old news that my drive is a graveyard of half-finished texts - but this time I like some of the recent texts enough to feel sad about it.

since I have no mental capacity to finalize them and post them on Ao3 as complete works at the moment, I’ll try to occasionally post snippets here in hopes for some motivation.

so, here is a first one.

#1. Kallus, OC (Alliance Intelligence Officer), gen.

WIP: Our Kind of Traitor, gen, 22k words, 70% complete.

Kallus is debriefed by Alliance Intelligence upon arriving to Yavin, and opts to do the personal assessment part under the truth serum.

Content warnings: POV of a drugged person, discussion of suicidal themes.

***

It’s all the obvious questions, except he never expected to be answering them. He didn’t bother coming up with an escape plan, only with a remote kill switch for datapads and access cylinders.

Kallus says as much. Devaronian notes it down with a barely noticeable frown.

“What is your opinion on extractions of compromised deep-cover agents?” she asks.

“You need to measure the risk for the extraction team against the risk of critical leak from the agent in case of their capture,” he answers automatically, because it's the absolute basics, and he’s not gone far enough to forget something this simple.

She watches him. Her horn spots are glistening under the lights that feel too bright for his liking, but all skirtopanol-based serums raise sensitivity to pretty much everything. It’s not a side effect, it’s meant to be used - but somehow Kallus isn’t even tied to his chair right now.

“It’s not an opinion, is it?”

Seriously?

“You can’t be driven by the opinion when you decide something like this.”

She notes something down again. Her chair is exactly the same as his, and Kallus thinks she looks unforgivably comfortable: his own back is burning from contact with angular slats. He stifles the urge to move again, because he knows the sensation will only get worse if he does.

“Did you expect to be extracted?”

Absolutely fucking not, and he wanted to kill Bridger with his bare hands when he showed up to try. It was a mess and a half, and by the next morning he was sure he had only about a week left - which was, in retrospect, too optimistic. That one, he doesn’t want to say, but he says it anyway. This serum is a good quality one: he isn’t giddy enough to muddle devaronian’s results by delirium, but he can’t hold anything in, either.

“Yet you didn’t use your own contingency.”

Thrawn ripped it out, because he knew all ISB field agents had a suicide pill. Kallus can still feel the phantom soreness in his jaw and the way blood flooded his mouth; Thrawn was very annoyed about the blood, because some specks ended up on his sleeves. He knows he’s about to say it, so he makes an effort to replace the answer with something equally truthful.

“Rifle pack was empty. Wanted to discharge the air from the escape pod, or something similar, but blacked out before I could,” he shrugs. He wants to apologize for it, because it was a stupid mistake, and if the Empire picked him up alive, they could have found something of use in his head, however little.

He does. It’s not like he can do anything else.

Devaronian stares. In the back of his mind, the training holo on facial expressions is about to mumble something about near-Humans, but he makes it shut up. It’s way easier to consider her face blank.

“Are you ashamed of your survival?”

He knows character evaluations are always humiliating, but can they skip this part? He says that, because he has no filter whatsoever right now.

She leans in a little.

“Are you distressed by the idea of walking this base freely, since that would lead to meetings with members of the Rebellion who were harmed by some event that can be directly associated with the Empire?”

Of course he is, but that’s a given. Most imperial defectors have similar motivations and exactly the same problems. If you spoke to one, you spoke to them all. She should know it herself. It’s not a polite answer, and he realizes it a second after it slips out, but apparently he is very giddy by now. This serum must have a short half-life.

“And when you spoke to one, what did they say?”

Kallus spoke to several, and three of them were strapped to the interrogation table during the conversation. Fourth one was Swain, but she didn’t fully recognize what she was doing at the time, and why. Fifth one was Wren, and it was just a short message. It was two hours after his enforced bacta tank dip, one hour into full consciousness, and he was still offended about not being strapped to his bed: he was brought to a large base, after all, and the door locks were primitive. Syndulla decided to bring a whole delegation into the medbay at that very moment, so everyone was there to witness his dismay. Zeb said Ezra usually complained like that about stormtroopers who keep putting him into standard cuffs, even as they were blatantly loose on his wrists until last year, and oh, they’re on Mandalore, but Sabine even sent a note.

Wren wrote -

His throat is dry by now, but the serum is definitely starting to wear off - otherwise he wouldn’t notice. Or be able to withhold this string of thought from spilling.

Kallus picks his second one instead, since he was the most eloquent.

“He said it was about atonement.”

Devaronian still stares.

“For most, the atonement process is not a pleasant experience. You already seem to know it. Do you feel capable of continuing it under duress of personal presence here?”

He shrugs again, because they have his unredacted personnel file - Kallus gave it to Fulcrum the first and only time he met her. He was expected to perform under duress for most of his life, since ISB has tolerance for failure about as low as Darth Vader’s. He lets himself say this one.

Because that’s what Wren told him to do, and right now, he’ll take any advice he can get.

Devaronian lets the silence hang for a moment, before leaning back tiredly.

“Then it’s probably good, Alexsandr,” she says absentmindedly, looking over her sparce notes, “that we have a lot of stressful work, and not nearly enough hands.”

#star wars #fanfic wip #agent kallus #alexsandr kallus #WIP: our kind of traitor #rebel alliance #star wars rebels

[trainerseyes]

Nobody asked for my worst RP experience but I used to be a lot more wary of powerful OCs back in the day because I had bad experiences with people making them so damn powerful that if anything even remotely bad happened to them, the entire universe would collapse.

Mind you, this also meant these OCs would never face consequences for their wrongdoings, due to the universe's stability relying on their wellbeing.

Nowadays I'm more open-minded about these things, because admittedly some canon characters have similar problems, but damn does it get annoying when someone's muse is allowed to be as shitty as they want.

#ooc

[sabo-has-my-heart]

for 'first snow of the season' 'dont leave again' could i request one of the alternate endings you mentioned having for it? very curious! it's one of my favorites of yours that ended up becoming series.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, polyamory

Word Count: 1090

Congratulations, you get not one, but two of the alternate endings! The angst ending and the ‘both Ace and Sabo love her’ ending. Enjoy. They both take place about halfway through Don’t Leave Again, as will be clear in each of the endings.

Sprinting through the airport, the two boys reached your gate, eyes panicked as they noticed a lack of people, looking towards the large windows, they noticed your plane backing away, Ace already trembling. Sabo ran up to the man at the gate desk while Ace fell to the ground, defeated. The blond tried to demand that they stop the plane, that it was important. Fumbling with his phone, walking away from the attendant and calling the airport to report a bomb. If there was a threat of a bomb or a terrorist attack, the plane would have to stay grounded. Everyone aboard the plane would have to be removed and they could still reach you. His voice trembled as he tried to relay the message through his tears, the panic finally taking full hold as it had Ace. The entire airport was soon abuzz with news of a threat aboard one of the planes, the blond smiling as they grounded every flight. 

Staring at the gray stretch of freeway before you, you wiped the last of your tears away. You’d decided to leave when the soonest estimate for your flight was at least 2 hours. It would take longer than that to reach the next nearest airport, but you couldn’t stay in that city, it hurt too much. So you’d rented a car and were driving away. But with each mile, the pain seemed… less, or maybe you were just numb to it now. It had hurt to lie to Ace like that, but after what had happened back then, you couldn’t just let him back into your life like that. It had been a stupid idea, personally opening the branch in your hometown, hell the entire idea of coming out here had been stupid. What did you expect? To just be able to avoid them for an entire month? To not break down when you knew it still hurt? Never again, you’d never make that mistake again, the town could burn for all you cared, you’d never come back. Your mother, your sister, no, they weren’t family, Koala and her mother could rot, you hoped they’d rot, that their lives would be filled with pain and misery. In the back of your mind, you knew it was wrong to wish that upon them, but you weren’t in a good mental state right now. 

You weren’t on the plane, everyone aboard the flight had been accounted for, hell, they’d asked about you, shown your picture, the other passengers said that you’d left, where to, they could only guess, but it meant that they’d lost. They didn’t know where you were going, where you were, or what you were planning. Everything suddenly felt so empty with both boys, hollow and broken, as broken as your heart had been since the day Ace told you he wanted to date your sister. There was nothing they could do, even if Sabo took the job, there was no way you’d let him contact you so soon, you’d ignore his calls just like you had last time because it reminded you too much of everything that had happened. Worse yet, there was no telling if they’d ever get anything even remotely similar to another chance. This had been their chance and they’d failed. Fuck, even if you did decide to see Sabo again, and there was no telling if or when that would happen, he’d still be too broken to do or say anything. They’d lost, they were done, and they were broken.

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

Staring at the two young men in front of you, you weren’t sure what to say. You’d lied to Ace earlier, told him you hated him, yet here he was once more, begging on his knees. At the same time, Sabo was confessing a long time love for you, each holding one of your hands as the brothers put on the biggest show for not just your gate, but for the entire terminal to see. 

“W-wouldn’t that just be rich.” you half laughed, half sobbed, fresh tears starting to run down your cheeks, confusing the boys, “Compared to my sister all my life, told that I’ll never be as good as her, that I’m not as smart or as pretty. Yet here I am, a successful business woman of a large company with two amazing people begging for my heart. Wouldn’t it be rich to see my mother’s face? To see the wonderchild brought so low. Stuck as some lackey in another loser company, dumped by her boyfriend and going nowhere while her little sister, the same little sister that everyone said was worthless, has everything her sister could ever desire. No, not just everything she could desire, more than she desires. Not just a great position in a good company, the CEO of a great company, not just a wonderful boyfriend willing to do anything for her, but two.” the brothers glanced at each other before looking back at you.

“Then… you’ll stay?” Sabo asked, knowing that Ace wouldn’t be able to find the words, let alone manage to say them.

“Yeah, yeah I will, for now at least. I… maybe,” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself a little, “maybe you could recommend a good restaurant? Somewhere we could get a bunch of food, my treat?” you asked, watching the twin smiles that spread across their faces, Ace suddenly on his feet, pulling you close, face buried in the crook of your neck. 

“We know a lot of places, we’ll take you to all of them if you want, we’ll pay if you’d like, anything, anything for you.” Ace mumbled into your neck as you stroked the back of his hair.

“I said my treat, so it’ll be my treat.” you whispered comfortingly, smiling over at Sabo who still held your hand. The blond placed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, knowing how important this was for his brother. It was important for you too, but his brother had been so despondent that he needed to hold you. 

Sitting on the couch, both boys cuddled with you, Ace’s head on your lap and Sabo’s arm around your waist. It still amused you to no end that you were the CEO of a big company, had two amazing men, and a nice house, all things that your wonderchild sister didn’t have. You’d won, you’d outdone her, and you’d rubbed it in their faces. Was it spiteful, mean, and low? Maybe, but damn it felt good.

#one piece #one piece ace #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace #ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one piece sabo #sabo the revolutionary #sabo the revolutionary x reader #chief of staff sabo x reader #chief of staff sabo #sabo x reader #fluff #angst #polyamory

[tache-noire]

might as well make a post about my OCs

the basic idea is that each one is sort of a mix of a few different horror movies, and focuses on a horror trope I like. I originally came up with these guys with the idea that I would just.... magically be able to make a game even though I can’t draw worth shit.

The Slasher: Terrence Walker

Inspirations: Halloween, Friday The 13th, My Bloody Valentine, anything with a big guy in a mask with a weapon stalking a bunch of people.

Appearance: HEFTY McLARGEHUGE. Tall, beefy, nasty drowned-corpse skin, no hair. Has a metal mask locked on his head that can’t be removed. Wears a khakhi prison jumpsuit and shackles. (the dick on this man is insane)

Bio: Imprisoned for a series of murders and subjected to an experimental form of psychological punishment at a remote penitentiary in which all inmates and staff must wear masks unless they’re in private. No mirrors in the facility. The complete lack of all human contact is supposed to inspire true penitence and reform even the most hardened criminals, but it simply gave Terrence and extreme aversion to human faces. Eventually the facility was shut down for ethics violations and all inmates were to be transferred to other prisons. Terrence managed to break free from his restraints and overpower the driver of the transport van, but ended up swerving off down an embankment and into a lake. His body was never found...

Other: His signature weapon is a 20 pound sledgehammer :^) he’s fond of bludgeoning and facial mutilation. You can get him to fuck you if you want but keep in mind he is a rotting corpse.

The Off-Grid Cannibal: Jacob Potter

Inspirations: Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Deliverance, We Are What We Are, honestly take your pick of cannibal/backwoods psycho movies except for Silence Of The Lambs

Appearance: Thick and stocky, very weathered and scarred skin. Dirty blonde hair and beard, both long and rather unkempt. Heterochromia-- one eye is green, the other is blue. Wears very rugged, practical clothes-- but they’re clearly old and worn, and not always the right size.

Bio: Unknown past. He’s not keen to talk about it. He doesn’t like people. Lives alone in a cabin in the woods, entirely off the grid and without modern comforts or technology. Hunts, traps, fishes, and forages. Humans are just another prey animal-- albeit a rare treat that he doesn’t allow himself to pursue too often. The circumstances and timing have to be just right. He has a preference for people roughly his own size and with some survival skills.

Other: IN MY DEFENSE OF THIS CHARACTER, I CAME UP WITH HIM LONG BEFORE TPOF WAS A THING. I may end up reworking him at some point because he's a little too similar to Mason.

The Creep: James Carson

Inspirations: yandere animes lol

Appearance: Pale, greasy, malnourished little rat man. Stringy brown hair, shockingly bright blue eyes, short, chewed-up fingernails. Bad hygiene. Smells bad. Lives in hoodies and sweatpants.

Bio: Believes WAY too much in dream symbolism. Completely delusional. He saw you once and then had a dream that you were married and had a whole life together, and now he believes you are his soulmate and that you MUST have had the same prophetic dream, because you’re CONNECTED. You are NOT the first person this has happened with, but he believes that you’re the same person reincarnated over and over. Someday, he’s sure you’ll remember that you’re meant to be together.

Other: I love him a lot, i love pathetic men so much

The Master: Simon Boucher

Inspirations: Hostel, The Silence Of The Lambs, the “dollmaker” deep web urban legend

Appearance: Very conventionally attractive. Black hair, olive skin, rich brown eyes. He’s fit but not overly muscular, but he’s stronger than he looks. Very well-dressed in expensive clothes.

Bio: He presents himself as a sugar daddy. He calls it “Pretty Woman Syndrome,” like the movie. Likes to go to shitty clubs, find someone who catches his eye, and then convince them to go out for a date with him to someplace MUCH fancier. He’s got a natural magnetism that makes it hard to say no. But they’ll wake up in chains, in an unfamiliar room, and from there the nightmare has only begun. He’s a trainer and seller of very high-quality human pets and toys for wealthy individuals all over the world. Whether you become a pet or a toy is up to how obedient you are or how well you can be broken. If you’re too strong-willed, you will lose everything. Arms. Legs. Sight. Hearing. Voice. Teeth. Only the absolutely necessary parts will remain. It’s in your best interest to behave, or escape.

Other: Pets are worth much more than toys, so he will give you every chance to be good for him before he gives up and modifies you. If he REALLY likes you, you may become one of his own personal pets :)

The Pure Sadist: Gabriel Mason

Inspirations: Hellraiser, Smoothie from Happy!, Martyrs

Appearance: Like a cherub. Very soft features. Round face, sun-kissed skin, curly golden-blonde hair, cheek dimples, the works. The only thing wrong with him is his eyes. Pitch black irises, and he’s never really looking AT you, but THROUGH you. Wears glasses, typically dresses in slacks and sweatervests.

Bio: Despite his somewhat unnerving eyes, he’s very pleasant. Polite, kind, soft-spoken. Likes to read-- mostly horror. No real rhyme or reason to how he picks his victims. Nothing matters but their ability to bleed and feel pain. He has an elaborately locked and hidden bunker in a remote location. Every tool he could possibly need at his fingertips, a supply of interesting drugs and chemicals, water and non-perishable food. Everything is sterile and spotless. He will keep you alive as long as your body holds up, and do everything in his power to prolong your life. Your pain and suffering is his greatest pleasure, but he will continue even after your mind breaks and you stop responding. From then on, it’s more of a hobby, just testing the limits of physical endurance until the damage is too great to recover from and you die.

Other: He has no genitals. He removed them himself-- he didn’t need or want them.

#OC stuff #murder OCs #Terrence Walker #Jacob Potter #James Carson #Simon Boucher #Gabriel Mason #LONG POST

[niamhsperformancelab]

Week 8~ Nature and Performance Lab

I didn't make any progress on the soundtrack as intended over the weekend. On the Monday, I spent the day making up for lost time. At this point, I was getting bored of the soundtrack as I aimed to have it 10 minutes long (approximately 2 minutes per scene) and was mainly manipulating samples instead of creating a soundtrack of just musical instruments which is what I am more familiar with. I have never made a soundtrack let alone a full song (using a midi keyboard as well) so I was really pushing myself out of my comfort zone. Since I was working on this remotely as it was easiest to do in a quiet environment where there were no interruptions, it meant the collaborative aspect to this section of the project was removed. Ultimately this was down to not having the time to get constant feedback/ make many alterations to what I was making, it just had to be done in time. I feel as though my group were understanding of this and trusted me to do a good job of this part of our performance. I was also using the storyboard I had made during the first two weeks of this semester as a constant reference to make sure what I was creating related to what was happening within the performance and to make sure it linked back up with all of the other story boards.

(Tuesday)

We were very aware that our Nature Lab outcome was being neglected at this point in time so we decided to use this week to complete as much of it as possible. Upon inspection, the wire we had asked Hemza to buy from hobby craft was on the thinner side and would need reinforcement in order for it to withstand having things attached to it. Our solution to this was twisting each pice of wire around itself to make it double the thickness. Some longer pieces we repeated this process to make them even more sturdy and to make the intended form more secure. It needed this structure as the tubing and the leaves would be attached to the wire frame base. Once we me and Zoe had twisted enough separate pieces of wire, we combined them to make one whole structure:

After dividing the leaves equally, attempting to give a similar amount of blank ones, ones with roots, ones with bark and ones with mushrooms to everyone, I began to fill my own in. While the others selected watercolours as their medium, I opted for pro markers as their leaves started to buckle under the water content of the paper. We chose not to use acrylic paint, oil paint, or anything similar as we were aware that once these had dried, the water would not be able to penetrate the paper in the way that we needed it to. While using pro markers meant I was slightly more limited on my colour choices in comparison to the others, I was still able to use the colour palettes made by Liz on each leaf.

After lunch me and Zoe had our meeting with the head of school. This meeting had been on my mind all throughout grad+ week and while I was nervous about it, I was keen to find a solution to the issues we were having. I felt as though while I could have made more of an effort to repair things with Amie after the meeting, I didn't have the energy to do so and my priority was to make sure everything was completed in time for our hand in. I also like to think that I am a nice person, capable of separating friendships and work so that if we were to work with each other in the future there would be no issues on my end. This whole situation has reminded me of how well I can carry myself. Being polite, articulate, knowing what is appropriate and raising valid concerns to my peers as well as higher authorities.

(friday)

We had group tutorials with Lara and Sarah which was a good way of listing out everything that needed doing in order to be ready for our hand in next Friday. Sarah went through the items she could share with us from her own project meaning we wouldn't have to buy new resources and could recycle her scraps. We also had another discussion of how to get the water throughout the piece which we narrowed down to either buying an Arduino motor pump or buying an IV bag of sorts. Sarah also gave us suggestions for different connectors that would allow us to divert streams of water through the tubes.

As I could paint my leaves at home, I wanted to focus on things I didn't have access to, such as the coding for the Nanopixels. Sarah set me up with the laptopand showed me how to use the libraries and presets/example codes for the lights. These gave me insight into what was possible. My aim was to have the colours blue, green and purple, maybe even red, on a twinkling effect to mimic how when light hits a starling, those first three colours reflect. To begin with I tried getting the blue, purple and green to fade smoothly into one another. This was because at the start, there would be a break in the code causing the lights to switch harshly or briefly turn off. What I found most difficult about this section of code was understanding the whole "i" variable and how the line of code would effect the way the colours fade. I feel as though my knowledge of maths definitely helped me come to terms with the phrases and by the end I understood what each term meant. I stayed at the school of Art until 8:30pm that night as I wanted to have some success from the day of coding. Here are the results: