#I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS
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MICKEYYYYY i saw ur wips and ran here as fast as i could !!!!!! ik we have already Talked abt vamp!geto x journalist!gojo x vamp!reader bUT im still begging for any crumbs or snippets u have they r my reason for being … same w knight!reader x prince!gojo i would love to know more abt the next part!! AND AND AND NEIGHBOR!MAKI??? I AM LOOKING
ARI ARI ARI ARI ARI ARI IT'S SOOOO GOOD TO SEE U HERE<333
welcome back to my brainrot!!! the vamps - i'm pretty sure (very fucking sure) that i'm just gonna have to write multiple parts for that au!!!! not really part 1 and part 2 but just snippets from their life i think. ofc the first meeting between gojo and geto and reader but then i really wanna write about shoko and reader too, like how'd they meet etc. i can see like a rainy day with a shivering shoko heading to her favourite bar after a long work day. it's a pretty unpopular place; she has her own little spot in the window booth and the bartender already knows what she orders. a neon light hangs from above the bar but otherwise it's just some random low lamps that barely light up the place - it's perfect like that. the music isn't too loud either, it's mainly 80's music and stuff alike that. shoko thought it a bit lame at first but now, it's one of the reasons she keeps coming back. it's a perfect escape from the life she leads. on that rainy night, though.... the door swings open and a hooded figure struts to the bar, barely catching shoko's attention. she's busy watching the raindrops bash against the window, the cig slowly burning between her fingertips. the quiet clearing of a throat does pull her out of it - it's you. dark eyes and an even darker small smile, pointing to the seat opposite of her. "may i?" it's so sultry, catching shoko a bit off-guard. normally, she wouldn't let a stranger sit with her. why would she? but you? you're different. something about you is already making her hook onto you. digging around in your little bag, you pull out a cig of your own. but no lighter. you lean your elbows onto the table and toward the woman before you. "do you mind?" she knows what you mean; she's already clutching the tiny fire machine in her jacket pocket. the cig hangs from your mouth, a confident smirk pulling on the corners of your dark lips. her hand raises to it, she flicks the ligher and watches your lips fully curve around the thing. it takes light, the tip turns a bright orange for a second before dimming down; you inhale. deep. shoko's hand remains in its spot. and exhale. she gulps.
and reader and sugu, how their relationship began and overall how their life together is (talking about this with momo and i haven't stopped thinking about sugu owning a museum and all that). OKAY AS I WAS TYPING THIS U REBLOGGED IT so i know u've seen that too but yk i wanna elaborate on that more bc i loved that idea and since i'm talking about it already HE DOES PAINT. 1000000% THERE'S A MASSIVEEE MASSIVE ROOM FOR JUST HIM AND HIS ART. in the mansion and in the museum. the room has big windows and he looooves to paint just when the moon lights up the room.... it's perfect for painting u.
aaaaaand i mean geto and gojo duo is something that needs a deep fucking study too................. like ur slowdancing idea????? it lives in my head. i don't think it'll ever leave if i'm being honest. anyway i think gojo is almost as infatuated with geto as he is with u. c'mon???? he's fucking ethereal how could he not be??? i think he follows geto around at the house a lot. he wants to know what he does at all times, just wants to know more about him (he wants to hold his hand)(he wants to play with his hair). geto definitely finds it annoying at first i think i already said that but yeah. but fret not he does come off it after a while. what if gojo asks him to teach him how to paint????? so he watches gojo do it, but when he needs help he steps right behind him, chest touching gojo's back, hand grasping over his, guiding along the canvas. do u think gojo is paying any fucking attention at this point?????????? fuck no i'm sorry but that man is popping a boner. anyway. gojo accidentally teaches him some dirty jokes - geto swears he doesn't even listen to him but the stupid one-liners just keep coming out of his mouth (a sign that he's spending a lot of time with his little bf)(he's trying to ignore that fact).
as for our little prince and our little knight - the next part is imminent i promise!! i know i said that last weekend too but it's definitely dropping this weekend lmao. we learn a bit about shoko's (and the knight's) childhood and finally our favourite duo gets to bond over some childish laughter. but only just for a moment though....
ANYWAY neighbor!maki is very much inspired by a scene from the movie bound (1996). maki and the reader have seen each other a few times in the hallway of their apartment complex but they haven't spoken - until the reader goes to ask her for help. and then they both understand how attracted they are to each other. no smut not even suggestive they're just kind of flirting it's cute. i literally have so little of it but i still love the idea so muchhhh i need to finish it maki deserves it i love her
prince!gojo (autumn)
he has also learned that shoko had a friend, who was ready to do anything for her and for others for that's sake. with a deep sigh, she confessed that she regretted not taking in the other kid. shoko was more quiet, more well-behaved in a sense but the other kid - they kept getting into fights with the knights of the castle. "i kept scolding them over it. but no, they just kept going. later i learned that all of those beatings and slashings were for other kids." her head hanged low as she spoke. "they kept taking the blame for the younger kids, so that they wouldn't get hurt. stole food, so that they wouldn't starve. i didn't know."
the prince nodded along, surprised to hear about this noble kid. "where are they now?" he asked in a whisper, a little scared to hear the answer.
"they left. around the time they were twelve, i think. shoko was miserable. brought me and her flowers and bread; the most polite troubled kid i ever saw." she sighed."i was stupid."
neighbor!maki
"hi!
"hi." your neighbor takes a second to look at you.
"s-sorry, i don't mean to impose but could i ask for your help?"
"with what?" she asks with a raised brow.
"um, my sink fucking broke. a-and i saw you with a toolbox the other day and i t-thought maybe you could help me? if not, that's totally fine."
+
"do i make you nervous, maki?"
"no."
she goes to grab the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing over yours.
"thirsty, maybe?"
"curious, maybe."
#WHEWWWWWWWWWWWW THIS GOT LONG SO RANDOMLY#damn i really can't stop can i smhhhhh#THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT THESE ARI!!!#ALWAYS SO GOOD TO DISCUSS THEM WITH YOU#I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS#OKAY WAIT I'M SORRY IF UR NOT A SMOKER THOUGH#it's the role okay vampires smoke shoko smokes sugu smokes it looks hot#sue me#i also noticed that i keep switching between “the reader” and “you” idk if that's annoying or not u let me know#ari <3#friends!!#wip game#mickey can't stop thinking
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Laces for a Lady - 18th century, poly, shifters x human romance - Chapter Seven (sfw)
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
Contents: some passing comments comparing two different female body types in a negative way, and some measurement taking and a dress fitting that leaves Nel a little breathless. Who knew Mr. Nancarrow had it in him to be so smooth. Mr. Darcy hand-flex fans, be warned...
Wordcount: 3931
Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw)
Edmund flushed at Nel’s boldly obvious compliment, but was saved any further embarrassment by Mr. Fordyce announcing that it was Nel’s turn, and that he would have to take Nel’s measurements since he didn’t have them in his records as he did Winnie’s.
This time it was Nel whose face turned hot, but she met Edmund’s gaze again as he stepped forwards, rested his cane against the nearby table gently enough not to cause the arrangement of dried flowers in the centre even to quiver, and then he carefully passed the ribbon of paper around her waist. He kept his eyes down, but his long, delicate fingers moved with nimble grace as he held the paper and snipped the tailor’s marks in it which would correspond to the various locations of the measurements.
“And now inhale,” he murmured, and she obliged, letting her ribs inflate naturally. She could feel his knuckles pressing ever so slightly against her body through the fabric of the thinner, less structured dress she’d chosen for that day, and she tried not to shiver.
They had begun at her waist, but a moment later she found herself scowling at Mr. Fordyce when he made Edmund kneel down on the hard wooden floorboards to measure the length of her leg.
Edmund got down alright, if stiffly, but he gasped and sucked in a sharp breath as he pushed himself upright with his cane, and he went rigid with another sudden inhale, eyes screwed shut and head bowed forwards as he breathed through a stab of pain. For a lurching moment when he raised his head again she thought he was going to pass out as all the colour drained from his face.
Clearly mortified, he looked like he was going to struggle through it despite the fact that he seemed to have been robbed of his faculties for a moment, but Nel abruptly turned to Mr. Fordyce and made a calculated assumption about the egotistical, self-important little man. "It must be such work for you to keep up with constantly changing fashions when you’re so far from Town here in Polgarrack," Nel said, and Mr. Fordyce immediately puffed up like a show pigeon under scrutiny, and graced her with a condescending smile.
"Oh, indeed, Miss Bywater, it is certainly not without its challenges. But!” he went on, brandishing his forefinger in the air as if lecturing a small and rather resentful child, “A successful tailor must be a true artist, and he must find something new and extraordinary at every turn for his patrons. So, I do make frequent journeys to Town to make my observations. That way, you see, the nobility situated further from Town are still provided with the very latest in taste and elegance without the inconvenience of a journey so long and arduous."
He pursed his wet lips and then went on while Edmund's face was a blank, porcelain mask of pain beside her, his shoulders turned slightly to hide his face from Mr. Fordyce who was currently standing perched on a small footstool near the window for a vantage point to ‘better view the proportions of the lady for whom he would have to work a miracle’. Or so he claimed. Nel just thought he felt short and didn't like pontificating at someone who was taller than him, even if only by an inch or two.
She tried not to let her face show her distaste at the master tailor’s outrageously overblown opinion of himself, but in this case, it was buying Edmund time to recover. “What a sacrifice you make for your art,” she said flatly, and he missed the sarcasm entirely.
"Indeed. A tailor ought to have a quick eye; to steal the very cut of a sleeve in passing at the merest of glances, Miss Bywater,” he intoned in an almost sing-song voice, conspiratorially leaning a little closer from his little footstool. She hoped he toppled off it. “Any common bungler may cut out a shape when he has the pattern on the table before him, but a good workman will take it by his eye in the merest passing of a carriage…" He flourished his hand as if he’d magicked something spectacular into existence at that very moment. All she saw was spittle and hot air.
"Extraordinary indeed," she said blandly, studiously keeping her eyes off Mr. Nancarrow while trying to gauge whether it was necessary to indulge Mr. Fordyce's nauseating pomposity any further. He still looked like he might appreciate a few minutes more, so she pulled out a rather higher card from her metaphorical hand. "You must truly be a master of your craft then, Mr. Fordyce, if the rose-petal gown you made for Lady Penrose's birthday in August is anything to judge. Truly, I had never seen its like before, not even when I attended the Russells’ Christmas Ball with Lord and Lady Mercer and their son last year in London." She wondered if she’d taken her flattery a step too far with that last, but he drank it up like sweet summer wine.
His watery eyes lit up at the mention of Lord and Lady Russell’s exclusive gathering, and, as she had suspected, Nel rose just a fraction in his estimation by mentioning such connections. Not that she gave a single one of Old Flint’s trumpeting farts what this man thought of her and her station in Society, but it was buying Edmund time, and he seemed to be breathing a little easier now.
"Oh," Fordyce said in a different voice, simpering just a little. “The… The Russells’ Christmas Ball? And… Lord and Lady Mercer you say?” His eyes practically glinted. “Their young son is a most eligible bachelor, I believe,” he said, apparently unaware of the impudence of such a comment. “And you were with them in Town?”
She nodded. “They’re close family friends.” Never mind that said eligible bachelor had spent the majority of that particular night scandalously secreted away in an upstairs bedroom with an Admiral’s nephew when he’d promised to dance with Nel instead. The cad, she thought with a fond and barely-disguised smile. She knew William would get a good laugh out of hearing all about the ridiculous Mr. Fordyce, and she made a note to herself to include an account of this exchange in the letter she’d intended to pen to him that afternoon.
"Yes, well, the gown I made for Lady Penrose’s birthday is one of my finer pieces, I’ll admit,” Mr. Fordyce blustered, returning to her original compliment. “Perhaps a little too fine for someone of your particular… stature," he added with a vague gesture at her figure, and she bit back a sudden, wild urge to laugh indecorously. "The young Lady Penrose does have such exceptionally delicate wrists, after all," he said, and consulted his notes rather ostentatiously and unnecessarily in order to add, "And such a minuscule waist. Still, a tailor such as I must be able to cut out not only for the handsome and well shaped, but to bestow a good shape where nature has not designed it quite so to suit the fashions of the day."
If Nel hadn't been keeping half an eye on Edmund, who now looked far more horrified by his master's words than by his own physical discomfort, she might have taken offence, but what a conceited little man like Fordyce thought of the proportions of her waist was of relatively little importance to her in the grander scheme of things. If Will had been in the room, she’d have met his eye and the two would have dissolved into uncontrollable hysterics.
All that mattered now though was that her plan to distract the master tailor for a time had worked. Stoking the already puffed-up man’s ego had kept him occupied long enough that whatever pain had been exacerbated by being forced to bend Edmund’s bad knee to the hard floorboards had dissipated back to something more manageable, and a minute later, he very lightly touched Nel at her elbow as he moved around her on the pretence of taking another measurement.
‘Thank you’, he mouthed, blinking rapidly and barely meeting her gaze. He was still the colour of fresh parchment, but he was no longer clenching his teeth like he thought he might be sick. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him by acting so presumptuously.
“Forgive me, Mr. Fordyce,” she smiled sweetly to the older man. “I do believe I interrupted the proceedings with my questions.”
“Oh, yes,” the man chirped, blinking like an owl surprised by the arrival of daylight. He’d clearly not noticed at all. “Yes. Well, if you could hold out your arms while Mr. Nancarrow passes the tape around your chest.”
Her heart skipped a beat at that, and while Edmund was methodical and nothing but proper, he did let his dark eyes flick briefly to her face as he closed the tape snugly around her breasts. Her breath caught. Beneath the fabric of her dress, she felt her nipples tighten and she licked her lower lip just a little, sinking her teeth in before resuming a perfectly blank expression. Never in her life had she been touched like that by a man. Her previous mantua maker in Sussex had been a woman after all, as would have been the case here, had Winnie’s not recently relocated.
If Edmund’s gaze had dropped to her mouth for the briefest of moments, she pretended not to have noticed, nor to wonder what it might mean, if anything.
“Inhale again,” Edmund said in a low, sweet voice, his eyes flicking fleetingly back up to her eyes.
Slowly, she obliged and felt the paper tape stretch taut against her bodice as her breasts lifted with her breath. She felt the tension go out of the line as he let the paper slide between his fingertips to measure the slack. All the while, his hands remained steady as a surgeon’s, and she tried not to stare at the elegance of his long fingers where they held the paper securely against her chest in order to snip more little cuts in the paper to mark the dimensions.
“Exhale,” he whispered, and she did, shakily. “Thank you, Miss Bywater.”
“Nel,” she whispered back, but he only inclined his head in a way that said he could, regrettably, never call her something so familiar in such a charged setting. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or frustrated, and found herself oscillating between the two.
Then the moment ended and she almost swayed.
Edmund stepped back, dropped his eyes, and crossed the room to hand Mr. Fordyce the tape. Its coded marks at various lengths indicated that the full set of measurements had been taken, and that the appointment was drawing to a close.
Mr. Fordyce let his eyes flick along the length of it — no doubt noting all the places where her circumference was less elegant than Winnie’s — and folded it carefully up into an envelope. “My thanks, Miss Bywater. I think we can make something with that. Come, Mr. Nancarrow. We must leave these elegant ladies in peace to begin our work.”
Winnie, who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room the whole time and pretending to work on her embroidery, rose gracefully and thanked Mr. Fordyce with just a little hint of frost in her usually sweet tone, and said that she looked forward to seeing their creations soon.
“I shall work on your dress personally,” Mr. Fordyce said as he bowed over Winnie’s hand. Nel thought that, given half the chance, he might just slobber all over it for the honour of sampling her ‘delicate wrists’ again, and shuddered. Winnie withdrew her hand almost immediately.
The way he had worded his comment though made Nel wonder if that meant that Edmund was going to make her dress, and her eyes darted questioningly to him.
He was watching her, and one corner of his lips lifted.
That was all, but in that moment, she knew it would be the case. His hands would have touched every inch of the dress she would wear to the ball in Plymouth, and her heart skipped and soared as if she would feel the ghost of his touch when she wore the dress itself. In a way, he would be closer to her that night than any man would even if she danced with them, because the fabric would rest against her very skin. Well, against her chemise and stays, but still, it was closer than any other man would get. Her core heated at the thought and she hoped her face didn’t betray her as the gentlemen bowed and left.
In the silence of their departure, Winnie arched an eyebrow at Nel. “Well, that was an interesting morning,” she said.
“Indeed,” Nel replied carefully.
“Since the ball is only a couple of months away, you must learn to dance properly,” Winnie added as she crossed to the window and watched their small carriage draw away from the front of the house. The shapes were made a dark blur by the rain. “I’ll teach you myself.”
“And what if I have no intention of dancing?”
Her chest still felt tight and her lungs seemed full of sea foam after Edmund had touched her, and imagined she could feel the warmth of his hands lingering through the fabric of her dress. It was most distracting.
“And I do know how to dance,” she added petulantly as she flopped into the other chair by the fire and picked up her own embroidery hoop, scowling at the wonky patterns on it. Had that been a strawberry or a carrot she’d been working on? “It was the local dances at the harvest celebrations that left me stumped. I can dance a passable minuet or quadrille as well as the next country gentleman’s daughter. I just choose not to.”
“You cannot sit the whole ball out and refuse to dance,” Winnie groaned, turning back to face her. “You’ll draw attention to yourself.” And, by extension, she might embarrass the Lady Winnifred Penrose.
“I’ll draw more attention to myself by dancing,” Nel said with a sullen expression as she began to pick rather savagely at her lumpy embroidery with a tiny pair of scissors. Lord, what if Edmund had happened to see it? He’d have thought it was the work of a small child with a knitting needle and ball of garden twine. “It’ll be like watching a bear in a skirt,” she muttered glumly.
Winnie snorted an extremely undignified laugh into her hand, and the two women promptly dissolved into giggles. “I’ll remind you of that when we’re at the ball,” Winnie snickered.
“Oh you’d better not,” Nel groaned. “If I get the giggles in public, it’s uncontrollable, and it’s even worse when it’s a formal setting.”
“You managed fairly well at the Lammas Dance when Old Flint did his best to reduce everyone to hysterics.”
That just brought back memories of meeting Edmund’s dark eyes again, and the feel of Locryn’s huge, rough palms against hers, and clamping around her waist, lifting her high and laughing in his rich, gruff bass as he turned her, and then of her crushing idiocy in almost letting herself kiss the man in public and in front of his lover. No matter that Edmund had said all was forgiven and forgotten; she would never erase that night from her mind.
When the gowns had been made, Mr. Fordyce returned with Edmund for a final fitting in late November, and Nel tried to ignore the odd fluttering in her stomach at the thought of Mr. Nancarrow seeing her in something that was not only a lot finer than her usual redingote dresses, but in something which he himself had made to fit her body.
As Winnie’s maid helped her into it upstairs, while Winnie was downstairs having any final alterations noted, Nel silently scolded herself. ‘Edmund Nancarrow is not going to look at you with even the faintest whiff of interest beyond that of a professional tailor doing his job. Mr. Nancarrow, like Will, is only interested in men’. The memory of the heat in his eyes made her assertions fracture and crumble like fragile cliffs into the insistent sea below. Mr. Nancarrow was probably not only interested in men, but she could tell herself that for the time being all the same.
With her expression set in a rather sour grimace, she thanked Liddy and walked towards the staircase which would lead her down to the drawing room.
The dress was really lovely, and although it wasn’t nearly as complicated and showy as Winnifred's, it had its own elegance and richness that Nel loved more than Winnie’s. The fabric was a warm, green silk damask that shone in the light like a cut and polished emerald, with peonies and curled leaves and fruits shimmering subtly like frost on a windowpane. The sleeves ended just below her elbow in a soft spray of intricate white lace, and there was a small trim of lace around the low, square neckline that was so delicate and fine, it reminded her of the patterns of sparkling sea foam on the sand. The bodice snugged in around the waist, and fastened almost invisibly up the front in a series of minuscule, gold hooks and eyes, while the skirts fell away in a fountain of heavy, forest green fabric to the floor. It would be finished with a delicate, muslin scarf around her shoulders, secured with a silk peony. There were even matching shoes, which were surprisingly easy on the feet, even if the heel was a little higher than those she was used to.
Nel actually felt comfortable in herself as she moved about in it, which she rarely did when dressing up for dances, and she tried to draw on that confidence as she descended the stairs carefully, one hand on the bannister in case she stumbled.
She met Winnie just coming out from her fitting, wearing her own, cream and peach confection which she somehow managed to make look spectacular. Nel was sure that she would have looked like an upturned peach cobbler if she’d put that on.
Her friend paused in the doorway when she saw her and gasped. “Nel!” she cried out. “Oh you look beautiful. The fit is perfect! And that colour! Why, I declare that the all gentry of Wessex will be prostrating themselves at your feet!”
Nel shook her head with a little blush, a dark curl escaping from the tight arrangement pinned at the back of her head above the collar and out of the way of the tailors’ fingers, and she continued down the stairs.
“Lady Winnifred,” came Mr. Nancarrow’s warm tenor from the other side of the doorway into the drawing room. “Forgive me, but you dropped —”
He stepped across the threshold and into sight, holding a muslin kerchief between the slender fingers of his right hand, but he looked over to his left and caught sight of Nel on the staircase.
The kerchief fluttered forgotten to the floorboards.
His lips parted and she watched him inhale slowly.
No, Mr. Nancarrow was most definitely not only interested in men.
There was no way Nel could still try to believe it after seeing that expression on his face, and she tried to hide a smile.
Winnie turned to glance at him and artfully hid her own little smile before dropping easily to retrieve the abandoned kerchief. She rose and leaned fleetingly in to whisper something in Mr. Nancarrow’s ear before flitting back towards the foot of the stairs just as Nel reached the last step.
Edmund immediately turned red from his collar to his ears, and swallowed visibly. He shot Nel one last glance and ducked back into the drawing room without a word.
Nel raised an eyebrow. “What did you say to him?”
Winnie just squeezed her shoulder. “Prostrating,” she whispered with feeling, and flitted away upstairs like one of the Fair Folk.
When Nel entered the drawing room, Edmund was standing beside Mr. Fordyce with his eyes on the floor and a lingering warmth to his face, but as she crossed to them and Mr. Fordyce declared that the creation was truly a triumph, Mr. Nancarrow raised his dark eyes at last and offered her a very small smile and a single, slow nod.
That one, gentle expression from him was more affirmation than any amount of twittering drivel from Mr. Fordyce as he paced around her and appraised her like an expensive piece of Wedgewood pottery on a plinth.
She watched Edmund take a step away from Mr. Fordyce as the man trotted around behind her and then went back towards the window to leave Edmund to make any adjustments, since he had been the one to make the dress and not Fordyce himself.
Edmund’s dark cane made a now-familiar clunk on the floorboards, and it sounded unusually loud to her while all the other sounds in the room seemed to fade.
“If I may?” he said to her in a soft undertone while the master tailor paced about near the window, utterly absorbed in the sound of his own voice. Nel had no idea what he was saying or if it was even addressed to her.
Edmund’s dark gaze had snagged momentarily at a piece of lace trim around the neck of her gown and he gestured towards it.
She glanced down and saw the problem, and then nodded.
“Of course,” she whispered, tilting her head a little in the opposite direction. It exposed her throat and collarbones, and gave him all the access he would need to free the lace from where it was folded over on itself. Her heart was beating like a trapped bird in her throat and she was sure that Edmund would see it thudding frantically against her skin.
And while Fordyce blathered on to his own reflection in the window about the fact that the cut of the dress and the padding were more important than the underlying body, and how his assistant had clearly understood this when making the patterns for the dress from Nel’s measurements, Edmund slid his fingertips carefully against the exposed skin of her chest.
Goosebumps prickled to life in their trailing wake.
Her breath hitched and she tried not to gasp.
Gently, he withdrew the tiny fold of lace that had been tucked under between the neckline of her bodice and her skin, and smoothed it flat again with his fingertips.
Nel exhaled shakily, angled a little away from him. If she’d had to look at him in that moment, she wasn’t sure she could have weathered the heat in his dark brown eyes. Her whole body thrummed like the rigging of a ship in a gale, and if he kept it up much longer, she would founder on the shore.
Wearing the dress he had made — had touched in every stitch and hem and seam — Nel did feel as though his hands were on her already, around her waist, on her hips, her shoulders, the small of her spine. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t prickling.
His knuckles brushed her collarbones as he withdrew his touch. Nel ached all over for him to linger, but he didn’t, and when he was done, he took half a step back and smiled.
“Perfect,” he breathed, meeting her gaze directly.
___
Nel's dress, for those interested. It's a little early for the period, but shhh. It's gorgeous.
:3
I hope you’re still enjoying it, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.
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#laces for a lady#i'm flyign out the door as i post this and i'm so late but HERE IT IS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT THANK YOU FOR YOUR ENTHUSIASM SO FAR#I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS CHAPTER#lemme know about mistakes and i'll fix them when i get back later
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if you are a person who rambles in the tags of posts you reblog
Thank you very much *・ﾟ✧
#yes i DO want to hear your thoughts#yes i DO want to hear that long story about your aunt's dog that's only tangentially related to the post you're reblogging#yes i DO want you to talk to me directly in the tags#if you address me by name in the tags of a post you reblog from me I gain 10 hp instantly#if you don't always have the spoons to type a lot of tags that's okay#we all gotta scroll and reblog mindlessly sometimes I get it#but if you ever start to type tags and then think 'aw they don't care about that' and delete? know that I CARE I WANT TO READ THOSE TAGS#ok to reblog but please don't be a jerk to non-taggers#I love you guys who don't write tags too <3#I just want tag writers to know they are appreciated and to let shy tag writers know that I can't wait to read their future tags
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Omg so excited for the next chap of DRU, can we get a countdown Mera??
omg omg yes!!! >:D countdown time!!!!!
In just one day, everyone will be reunited with the murder eel after the unintentional months-long hiatus. ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊˚
#twisted chit chat#death row undertow#thank you for your excitement!!!!! i can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts once the chapter is posted hehehe
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i finally finished bg3
and it only took me [looks at steam]
SIX HUNDRED HOURS
#merlin.txt#w/ the new computer the rest of act 3 went by super quickly#honestly i dont think my computer and my sanity would have survived all those cutscenes#ANYWAYS initial thoughts:#cried like a baby. ending credits songs really really good. i can't WAIT to start a new playthru. HOWEVER:#oh my god the ending felt so fucking rushed. i was expecting like a typical rpg ending slideshow at LEAST but nothing???#like you only get One cutscene with your romanced partner (a short one too) but i don't get to see what everyone else is doing??? hello??#gale is literally like 'lets celebrate' and we don't get to see the celebration??? or at the very least a chance to talk to everyone again#like in act 1 and 2????#imo i think the most satisfying one was lae'zels. god i love her#also act 3 is hella buggy especially towards the end. a lot of broken dialogue. but ah well#OK NOW SPOILER THOUGHTS SAMMIE DONT LOOK:#the game Really wants you to turn illithid but i ended up just letting karlach do it ... i felt bad .. but like#i found the arc of my tav like. getting So close to going full power hungry and martyr and hero only to finally be humbled like -#'you dont have to always play hero' was really interesting. like doing that and then hearing the post credits 'the power' song. gshldgksmal#guy who is soo miserable abt the fact that all their cool illithid powers are now gone. has to go back to being normal#ALSO. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THE ENDING AST SCENE. HELLO?#HIM RUNNING AWAY FROM THE SUN. IT BEING COMPLETELY PLAYED FOR LAUGHS. SO MEAN#any other time i may have laughed but the fact that you dont really get epilogues made that Really sting.#THE FACT THAT THE COMPANIONS ARE NOT EVEN NICE ABOUT IT??????
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I’m afraid I need to suck him silly
#Kyle Rayner#mutual: oh I can't wait for you to get into this character and hear your thoughts and analyzations on him#mm. its mostly gonna be this
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Chapter Eight is currently 90% finished, and currently at a little over 5100 words.
Mayhaps a New Years Eve treat?
Tomorrow?
#i can't wait for y'all to read it#and hear your thoughts#or screams#both are good#i see hell in your eyes#josh kiszka#josh kiszka x reader
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I love how you claimed no love au was “finished” but you keep writing more for it. you’re such a liar. this is not a complaint. can’t wait to read the update <3
shhhhhh idk what you're talking about I've never written no love in my life
#ask#ember#PLEASE read the new installment i can't wait to hear your thoughts 👀👀#gatesofember#no love au
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Ship Happens
Guys we know the wait is hard but @ishipthis and I are getting close to a chapter 3 drop and I think you're going to like it 🥰
Let us know, Do you have a favorite part so far? We have ours.....
#creddie#icarly#fanfic#archive of our own#shiphappens#i have the greatest writing partner#Can't wait to hear all your thoughts
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temeraire hold is here 🎉🎉
TEMERAIRE HOLD IS HEREEEEE 🎉🎉🎉🎉
#asks#morethanfantasy#i hope you are enjoying it IMMENSELY#can't wait to see how you find it!!!!!!#i'm not on tumblr much these days but!!!! cannot wait to hear your thoughts omg <3#temeraire is so skrunkly in his majesty's dragon. laurence is so good
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"The Hawke"
Season 1 Episode 6: “The Hawke”
“The team must help capture a cop and his former mentor from the academy after he becomes a fugitive following an assault; Officer Tim Bradford needs Officer Lucy Chen to learn to predict the moves of criminals in order to capture them”.
Original Air Date: November 27th, 2018
Written By: Frederick Kotto
Directed By: Timothy Busfield
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If you are reading this, that means for some reason, you are sticking around with me and all of my happy thoughts and I cannot thank you all enough!
Happy Sunday and Happy Fathers Day to those who celebrate!!
Onto the next one shall we…
We have a new cold open, it is short and sweet with our favorite Rookie and T.O duo…Chen and Bradford! I think this is the shortest]cold open we’ve seen so far, and I think the first one between Tim and Lucy as well!
We are introduced to a random, yet important for this episode, character, The Hawke, who trained John Nolan as a recruit! Hawke is a police officer as well, as his current position is a trainer in the police academy; He seems to be jealous of John, or at least of Johns position, which is one of a soon to be patrol officer. Mayne Hawke is done with the academy life and is envious of what John has.
Can you say fishy, which is the vibes I am getting from “The Hawke”.. what type of person he is, or even yet, what type of cop is he?
After a morning roll call room, Tim and Lucy get the leftover jobs that were incomplete from night shift and have been sequestered to serving and completing a search warrant. They head over to the apartment complex and Tim immediately starts giving Lucy lessons in how to properly serve a search warrant and succeed at one as well. This is definitely not the first one Tim has done and it won’t be the last either, but with that being said, Tim is doubting Lucy’s skills, which is understandable as he has never seen her properly serve a warrant and search a house. This deadbeat of a guy hits on Lucy as she is searching his apartment, Tim does what any respectable guy would do and puts this kid in his place and comes to Lucy’s defense because she’s oblivious to it as she is in the zone.
We are introduced by Tim to the D.E.A.R method: Deception, Elusive, Access and Repulsive. Lucy is trying to take down everything Tim is telling her as she pulls out her pad and pen to jot everything down until she basically gets told she has to continue her search in the repulsive category "You might want to glove up” he tells her as she storms off into the bathroom (Best belie we will circle back around to that later”.
A pissed off Lucy comes out of the bathroom to see Tim at the table with the stash of the stolen objects that he sent Lucy to go find, anger arises even more for Lucy yet a bit of gloating surfaces for Tim. He knew what he was doing the entire time, and where the stash was hidden but he couldn’t let Lucy off the hook that easily. Tim’s “Tim Tests” are becoming a normal occurrence for Lucy, what else can Tim throw at Lucy?!
Jackson and Angela respond to 9-1-1 call of a woman who called the police the previous night. She called because of her unruly, drunk, soon to be ex-husband who was at the brink of assaulting her, and she reveals that said soon to be ex-husband is the character we were introduced to earlier in the episode, Jeremy Hawke. Things seem to be getting a little dicey for this guy, how do they proceed with going about arresting a fellow police officer?
Jackson and Angela’s side storyline seems insignificant this episode compared to what everyone else is dealing with. What we have seen so far in the past 6 episodes, there is always more than 1 storyline, conflict in every episode of The Rookie, so even thought Hawke is the main arc of this episode, there has to be a secondary storyline, which is for Angela and Jackson. They end up dealing with what they think is a drive-by shooting at first, then a suicide call, but Jackson figures out it was a shooting out of anger: an angry so over his dad not accepting him as gay and allowing him to be with his boyfriend. “Look, we can’t choose our fathers but we can choose how we let them shape us”. The quotes that this show gives us have been some top tier stuff, let me tell ya!
Grey calls into John and Talia, to speak to John to see if he can figure out how to proceed with dealing with Hawke. We are reminded by the John from the very first episode and how he reacts to situations like the one he is currently in. He is quick to think on his feet and he knows how to relate to others, and especially those of his age as well. The Hawke situation escalates quickly for everyone and it becomes one of questioning. How do they go about proceeding with him when he is a police officer.
It is obvious he’s friends, or at least acquaintances, with some of the other officers at Mid-Wilshire. So not only do they have to figure out a way to go about arresting another officer, but now a friend as well. I don’t think the decision is that hard because we find out that he is quickly turning into a criminal “Anything you can do, I can do better” comes to mind; how do you outsmart a cop, or a quick approaching crooked cop at that as well?
I think that we have seen Captain Anderson in this episode the most. We still don’t know very much about her at all, but her time will be coming, I am sure of it!
I like watching Jackson and Angela work together, you can already tell the type of relationship and friendship that is going to form between the two of them. John and Talia are a steak difference from everyone else and it has been an odd number of weeks/months into their training days, but I still don’t find them meshing well together, there is something missing in that professional relationship.
Chen and Bradford find Hawke’s truck sans a Hawke. Tim confirmed my suspicions, Hawke is quickly becoming a criminal cop and is now going to do anything to avoid an arrest which includes outrunning everyone looking for him by any means necessary. John saw all the signs wrong with Hawke when he met him out the previous night, but did nothing about them. He just chalked it up to Hawke having a “bad night” whereas I think that if he had a bit more training, he would have acted on his instincts and at least maybe reported Hawke to someone higher up, things could have turned out a little bit differently. Talia knows that Hawke is trying to outsmart everyone just like Tim knew as well. Hawke is taking no chances in getting caught. It’s a no holds bar in getting Hawke and arresting him, everyone is on his tail and John and Talia announce that he has kidnapped his son and has put him at risk, which just made this situation that much more dire.
Tim devises a plan to get Hawke to fall right into their trap. Lucy thinks it won’t work but Tim knows it will because he thinks that he is going to outsmart Hawke but yet again Hawke has the upper hand because he still has his police radio on him, much to everyones frustration. They all realize that Hawke is going to one of the most public places he could go to: the mall. We are always reminded that John is to be the big hero of these episodes as he starts to confront Hawke in the mall. Hawke lays it all out for John; he is angry, desperate, and humiliated. He thought he had no other choice but to act the way he did. He has nowhere else to go and he is at a loss but that still doesn’t stop him from continuing to run but this time he leaves his son. He doesn’t need to be brought down with him.
The gang put their heads together to figure out just what Hawke is going to do next. What is his next move, his next target? Is he really going to be able to outsmart this group of cops? Turns out everyone knew exactly what he was going to do next, which is stay exactly where he is at the mall, even though he hopes that they vacate and search for him elsewhere. Its a bit of a renaissance that John and Tim are the ones to corner Hawke as he was the one who trained both of them: “one in the field and one in the classroom” but Hawke is not going down without a fight and as punches are thrown, and mainly at Tim and John, it is Talia with a little help from Lucy that gets the job done and finally arrest Hawke.
We end the episode on the highest note, a very memorable #Chenford scene..
The episode ends with Tim hanging out in a bar, answering a phone call. It is Lucy on the other end of the call, and I think that this is the first time that we hear Tim call her by her first name and not, “boot” or “Chen”. This is also one of the first times that we see them interacting outside of work. It’s a small moment, but it is one none the less; it’s a scene that solidifies that maybe there is a friendship forming between Lucy and Tim, albeit a very very small one, practically noting, but baby steps. Lucy reveals to Tim that she swiped his money clip from him when he was “getting his ass beat”- but hey he wanted her to act and think like a criminal so…
Before Tim hangs up, Lucy ever so reminds him that he might want to "glove up" before he finds a way to pay for his tab, most likely by washing dishes. I love this for Lucy, not only is she giving Tim payback for how he treated her earlier in the search, but she is also showing and telling Tim that she is not standing/backing down to him. She can handle anything he throws at her, any "Tim Test" he decides to put her through and I love that for her. I already see an improvement from Episode 1 Lucy to Episode 6 Lucy, in demeanor, confidence and on patrol. Tim smirks as he hangs up the phone is nothing short of amazement and bewilderment. He is impressed to his core that Lucy swiped his money, and his little smirk proved it. It’s a moment where we see another crack in Tim’s hard exterior and it’s because of Lucy. I think it is safe to assume that as much as Tim should be mad at Lucy for swiping his “wallet”, he really can’t be. She just did exactly what he told her to do, and even better than he could’ve imagined. He is training her a little too well!
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Honorable Mention: The Cold Open; a classic.
Episode Peak: Captain Anderson, we are getting to see a bit more of her each episode!
Episode Pit: Jeremy Hawke
Quote of the Episode: “I think you were raised to analyze bad guys not be one and to be a great cop you’ve got to have a little outlaw in you” ~ Tim Bradford
Episode Rating: 6/10. Personally, this episode was just okay. It kind of felt like a filler episode, with really not much going on really in any storyline for any character. There was really no advancement in the storytelling for anybody this episode. One of the only positives that this episode gave us in one of out beloved and classic #Chenford scenes, but besides that, really just an okay episode. I mean they all can’t be a 10/10 and that’s okay!
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Another episode for the books! Can't wait to hear everyones thought and opinions on this one. Like I just said, I personally didnt think that was a WOW episode, much much more of a filler one, but to each their own! I want to thank you all again for coming along for the ride!
Until next time in, "Get in the Shop"...
#The Rookie#Lucy Chen#Tim Bradford#Tim x Lucy#Lucy x Tim#1x06#The Hawke#Chenford#Angela Lopez#Jackson West#John Nolan#get in the shop: the rookie re-cap blog#Melissa O'Neil#Eric Winter#I love doing this so much#I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this episode#thank you for continuing to stick around#The Rookie 1x06
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Just some tiny snippets since I've been neglecting y'all lately ♥︎
#The kid doesnt really sound like one but I'm working on it#disclaimer: belva is the title that humans will mostly use to refer to u. but u will be able to choose ur name dw#and i think the most interesting thing will be seeing your Belvas' different thoughts on their title. Some will 100% love it and be proud#some will be reminded of their past actions every time they hear it#some will be like “belva is something that I no longer am and no longer relate to”#some will be straight up embarrassed by hearing it; like a teen who grew out of their awkward phase#etc . So I can't wait for the demo to come out and to hear how everybody's MC is#interactive fiction#the weight of yesterday#if wip
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if i started talking about this au that i have in the back of my mind would you guys still tolerate me
#i know i have like a lot of different au#the fantasy au. the royal au. the modern au. the demon narancia one and that masquerade one too#the clowns don't count because i just think they would dress up like that for funnises#image your getting hunted by a bunch of people from the mafia and you start hearing squeaking and jingle bells (this is just risotto acckk)#oh wait i just remembered that one idol au/designs i made back in may for eid#AAAAAAAAAAAHHH i swear i don't mean to make this much#i love putting these characters in situations but also this is kinda just an excuse for me to think about new designs for them#and i would think about a lot of other aus and just decide to ignore it but i can't with this one bro#i have been thinking about for a year now bro#i put so much thought and effort into but also not#some aspects yes some aspects not#and i mean ofc ofc the designs are finished ofc but i still need to think about colors for it#but not in a 'bug' way ya know ahaha....you know ?#.......man i don't know#mine
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wheeeeere did this idea that slurping is a way to show that you enjoy the food come from... especially in the context of japan? what
#like i just can't imagine it. if you're in a fancy ass restaurant then you're probably sitting in your seat and the chefs are in the kitchen#you're gonna slurp into a megaphone to let them Hear Your Appreciation?#if you're in ichiran then the only time the staff interacts with you is when they serve you your food or take your order slip.#and if you're eating in a ramen shop during lunchtime then you slurp because this shit is HOT and air helps cool the noodles down#and you have to hurry up because there's a bunch of people outside waiting for your seat.#it's polite to slurp in japan! it's polite to burp in china!#well when i was a kid i watched an american movie where a family farted a lot and everyone laughed so i guess it's an american custom#to fart at the table to show that you feel comfortable with people surrounding you and that you consider them important to you!#christ alive.#shrimp thoughts
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I want to... talk about Brewster and his entire thing-
Like he’s a scumbag and there’s no denying it, but also has valid reason to stay away from the Shadow Decree like??? It’s the very source of his trauma and I’m glad Sieg understands that, but also calls him out for leaving his friend Lu Yi as if he wasn’t his only friend. Lu Yi went all the way to contact Esper Union of all things just to help Brewster, and Sieg just wanted to make it clear that he’s there to help him.
And to note, Brewster’s alcoholism is also his coping mechanism, and this is how he tries to forget stuff. While he’s a very bad drunk, he also doesn’t want to cause harm fr. His bad temper also doesn’t help him and that his appearance is making things more difficult for other people to trust him. He didn’t ask to be an esper, but here he is, living the life of a bounty hunter seeking fun to bury his worries deep within.
I’m really starting to like him not because he’s the goodest boy, but because I can see his struggles and his flaws, but tries to make up for his mistakes to save Lu Yi, the only guy “dumb” enough to lend a hand to this wreck.
#jee rambles#dislyte#brewster dislyte#lu yi dislyte#sieg dislyte#this story is like#one of the good ones in my book#it may not be everyone's fave story but damn I like it#can't wait to see the rest#also please @ the people interested in the story please talk to me I wanna hear your thoughts-
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HUGE fucking nona the ninth spoilers. dont read if u havent finished it yet heart emoji
i have been thinking a lot about gideon in nona the ninth and her total heel turn. gideon is my Favorite Favorite Favorite character in the locked tomb by a mile, i love her so much, so when she appeared and was basically a different person? that shit caught me off guard. i still adore her tho.
unfortunately gideon, or kiriona, got kinda glossed over in nona the ninth, which sucks, because she played a super important role (speaking of, nona is the first book in the series so far i have real, not-nitpicky criticisms of. i really enjoyed it, but it was not as good as gideon the ninth, and Definitely not as good as harrow the ninth). that, and i find her offscreen character arc to be insanely interesting. she's suddenly very much not the gideon we know and love, and obviously something's up. so what happened to her?
at first i wondered if she was an impostor, but only a chapter or so after her reappearance, i was convinced this wasn't the case. there were two reasons i initially expected gideon was actually a fake: the first was that her eye color was wrong. gold? shouldn't she have harrow's eyes? those are a smoky black, right? harrow has gideon's eyes, after all. the second that gideon was, as she herself described, "mega dead" -- and the fact that her body functions like a walking corpse is proof of that. however, this runs counterpoint to the mechanics of the universe of tlt that were not only officially established in but heavily featured in nona the ninth. if gideon's soul was placed in gideon's body, by god no less, shouldn't she be very alive? both of these, however, are explicitly explained very simply: gideon is not in her own body. she is in a super-strong vessel created by god slash john slash dear old dad. a perfect recreation. this is very, very strange. i thought that the houses had gideon's body? why would she not be allowed to return to it? remember this.
three extremely important motifs present in gideons arc are those of freedom, idealism, and belonging/acceptance, and all of these suggest what may have happened to gideon in her absence -- or rather, her time with john and the cohort. we see from the moment she is teased that since meeting john she has been elevated to extremely high status, both as crown prince of john's empire and within the cohort. to the gideon nav of the first book, this would've seemed like a fairy tale. rejected, ostracized, and permanently indebted to the ninth house since infancy, there is nothing more that gideon wanted than to be a cohort hotshot. the beginning of gideon the ninth is her attempting an escape: she'd been imprisoned on that horrifying little planet her whole life, wants nothing more to escape, but her attempts are foiled and the whole book throws her longing for freedom in her face. she finds herself connecting with the harrow she terrorized and was terrorized by her entire childhood, pledges herself to her, falls in love with her, and ultimately dies for her. harrow is the one she finds herself belonging to, and she decides that is worth more to her than any freedom she could obtain.
then gideon learns who she is. harrow is gone, but suddenly there is a reason for gideon to be loved and accepted -- not just by harrow but by everyone, and it's more likely than not that she grasped it like a lifeline. she is not some nobody orphan slave to a cult, she is a crown prince, a half-deity, an icon of the future to the houses. she suddenly likely finds herself facing more power and adoration she ever could've imagined. so what happens to her when she realizes it's a gilded cage?
gideon is not allowed to go and do as she pleases; there is no freedom. she acts as a figurehead and never gets to be the respected lady-killer soldier she dreamed of; her idealized view of the cohort and her potential role in it is squashed. but she belongs, right?
when gideon kills crux, she tells him of her status. that he was always wrong to be so cruel to her. that she is more worthy of a place in the house than he ever was. and he simply does not care. he spits and her face and tells her flat out that none of it matters. to him, all she did was make harrowhark's life worse, ultimately fail her, and in his eyes, she is the greatest disappointment she could've been. gideon explodes upon killing him. it didn't feel good, she says. why didn't it feel good?
in the end, gideon's titles, her sacrifice, the months she spent playing dress-up in some sick facsimile of her face, they do not matter. it's quite like trying to reach out to your shitty parents and being rejected anyways. you say their opinion doesn't matter to you, but it does, doesn't it?
gideon has been living a twisted perversion of her childhood dreams, and realizing they weren't what they were cut out to be. she is ultimately a pawn in a larger game and she seems to be unwilling to accept this, but she knows it. she can't even have her own body back.
why wouldn't that change her? nona sees that she is deeply, unmistakably sad. it is not hard to understand why.
#sorry this is not coherent or good lolxd im just having a lot of thoughts about the cool butch lesbian with the funny sunglasses.#i missed her. i can't wait to see her again#and i will be sad when she goes for good#anyways if you read this meandering little essay (if you can even call it that) i hope you enjoyed and would like to hear your thoughts :]#tlt#gideon nav#nona the ninth
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