#and at some point i was just like. i dont know if these shows are actually that good guys. i think youjust like shows for little boys

[smithrpbog]

Vito: "Uhh... Please?:

Iris: she sighs "...Its everyone. Kids, I don't belong in this family. I'm just a griffin. And despite being told I'm no different, the actions show otherwise. Fiona, even you have to hold back when you hug me cause as a half dragon, you can still crush me. Vito, you can take hit after hit and still go. Where my body is as touch as butter" she looks at her leg when she says that part. "Even now. Everyone doesnt even want to say your father's name cause they think I can't take it. They even refer to him as, he who shall not be named, like this is Harry potter... Every day I'm reminded I'm just some weak griffin playing pretend with dragons" she looks at a book. "I dont even like books. That's something your grandfather pushed on me and I obeyed. At first cause I didn't want him to whip me. Then it was just for his approval. At this point I don't even know who I am anymore. I'm just a doll, waiting for other people to tell me what my purpose is"

[rafayelridesfisheatsfish]

A very far fetched headcanon/AU of mine is Xavier and Sylus are siblings and not just because they have the same hair color. Here's why.

Contains: Tyrannicide sylus with a soft spot for his little brother🤷‍♀️ spoilers of Xavier's and Sylus myth, long awaited revelry and Sylus anecdote

I've always felt like Sylus' standard myth was lacking, I mean, the other LI'S myth consists of a magical feel with a tragic but beautiful ending while Sylus' myth was...boxing? Aren't myths supposed to be special? Pretty sure boxing is just a normal daily occurrence for Sylus so I made my own myth for him. One that overlaps with Xavier's standard myth but takes place after his dragon myth.

In this AU Sylus is Xavier's older brother thus making him a Royal Prince, also the eldest making him first in line to the throne. This is a half baked au so for some reason, Sylus doesn't remember his dragon past life yet. Now Sylus, just like Xavier never wanted to to bear the weight of the crown, where they differ is how they rebel against their family.

Sylus upon finding out about the royal families secrets (feeding humans to the planet) ran away and turned to a life of crime becoming a space pirate leaving Xavier to bear the weight of the crown alone. This is where Sylus starts his space pirate journey where he pillages planets, specifically going after other Royals (his anecdote) and takes back what they've stolen from other planets to give back. He saves his parents for last, he wants them to live in fear of him, of what they know is bound to happen to them, he wants them to look around to their other Royal equals and see them fall with the knowledge that they'll succumb to the same fate or so he says to himself, really it's because he wants his beloved little brother to live normally (well as normal as he can when he's a prince) to live in peace even for just a little bit because he knows his beloved little brother is innocent and is being kept in the dark just like he was, he plans to spare him.

Finally, when he's rid the galaxy of Royals and burned their castles, It was time to go after his own royal blood. But the one that sits on the throne was not his parents, it was mc. At this point, he still hasn't remembered their past life. Mc recognises him as the eldest prince and asks him why he's returned, Sylus still confused that his family is nowhere to be found asks about them, with notably much more care when asking about his brother. He learns of Xavier's journey through space and time with the back trackers and all of a sudden, his bloodlust for his parents disappeared. "worried" would be an understatement to what Sylus is feeling for his brother, he's been all through space, he knows how dangerous it is out there and so he follows him.

The N109 Zone meets it's true ruler with Sylus' arrival but Sylus hardly cares about any of that, he's focused on looking for his little brother but Xavier is elusive, changing identities every now and then and easily slipping through operations with the help of Jeremiah. It's only when this foolish girl with an aether core sells her soul to him that he finally finds his brother through her connections, so he entertains her, he shows up, prevents her from getting shot and attempts to resonates with her. When their energies synced together and resonated even for just a moment, he remembered his past life and his beloved sorceress.

Authors note: Bye this sucks and is so half assed, there's so many missing details I just CANT articulate rn so I'll maybe probably edit this when I'm not burnt out. I just really needed to get this out or my brain would've rotted with it💀🙏 YALL I'M SCARED THIS IS MY FIRST TIME POSTING MY WRITING FOR THIS FANDOM DONT JUMP ME PLEASE💔💔🙏🙏🙏 THIS IS UNEDITED💀

[p5-apotelesma]

anyone else kind of put off by how they write makoto scaring her friends? idk maybe its just me

like, okay, in tactica especially there are multiple "comedic bits" where they mention how strong makoto is and that she does martial arts. like, they're praising and admiring her skill, or just commenting on it in general. but at one point someone (morgana, i think. and later futaba) specifically say she is "scary" and "terrifying" and it shows them being scared of her. when she reacts to most of their comments like this:

and you know how theres that bit where joker can imagine what it would be like to marry a phantom thief of their choosing? and the makoto in his head gets angry at him for a conclusion she jumped to about joker having someone else? and when joker comes out of the daydream he backs away from makoto and she says he looks pale.

theres a lot of these bits in tactica, but strikers and even the base game isnt saved from this altogether. theres that god damn 'peeping at girls in the hot spring trope' that comes up in every modern mainline persona game. its meant to be funny? apparently? but after the 5th time we see it we're not like. haha dumb teen boys get beat up by angry teen girl over a misunderstanding. we're like. oh. this again.

(i feel like this same 'girl beats up dumb boy' trope spawns from the same place the 'girls beat up ryuji after he almost dies for them' scene comes from. and maybe thats part of why it makes me do the frowny emote.)

ANYWAY

p5r dodged the obligatory hot spring scene, but Strikers did it instead. and makoto beats up the guys even though it was a honest fuck up and they tell the girls they weren't peeping and we the audience know they weren't but makoto beats them up anyways?? and exclaims "fist of justice!!!" ("HAHA MAKOTO SCARY LOL" ???????)

meanwhile she gets annoyed in any other instance when her friends try and reference her fists of justice?? (ryuji tells toshiro to watch what he says if he doesnt want to get pummeled, when he tried to compare makotos punching power to fist of the north star and she gets pissed) sigh. what is this writing. why would she having issue with it? this is a girl who gets so excited watching Yakuza movies that she sits on the edge of her seat with her fists clenched. shes started reading action manga more and actually enjoys it.

even if makoto wants to come off as being serious and put together, and even if she naturally is (moreso than her other friends) she is not immune to the sillies of teenagerhood. she would compare herself to it gladly and wouldnt hit or scold her friends if they did either. because its fuckin awesome. because shes awesome.

like. i'm not the biggest fan of makoto. she's got the lowest blorbo status in my brain out of the whole squad but i don't hate her. there is a good character there, its just. the writers. make. decisions.

makoto spent so long being alone and feeling isolated and like. she says during her confidant that a lot of people just thought she was some kind of cold. robot. so i certainly don't think she would want her friends to think she was in any way unapproachable. or unable to handle the bits.

and i dont think she would want her bit to be 'lol violence funny' (at the very least not to this extent.) i don't think she would want to give her friends any reason to think that she would hurt them. making a "strong woman" character does not mean this character. has to crack her knuckles at her friends and imply shes going to hit them if they say something a little too silly. and play it off as a bit??

like. idk. maybe im thinking about this too much or not explaining this with the right words. but its just one of the many things about the writing choices that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. to me this is completely different from them making her serious about studying and having her get on her friends asses if they dont do well. and her friends not wanting to get a makoto lecture. like oh we better study because if we fail we'll have to face Militant Academic Makoto Niijima because she will organize a tutoring/study session like it's the fuckin navy.

when ann and ryuji first say 'oh man shes scary i dont want to get on her bad side' right after makotos awakening, makoto seems more embarrassed than anything else. and i feel like this is. more true to her character. she lets her anger out in the metaverse and she can do amazing things with it as her drive but shes embarrassed about expressing it. but she comes to embrace this about herself. that shes powerful. and shes proud of it. but that doesnt meant she leans into being someone her friends think is. genuinely scary.

makoto is a terrifying fighter and brilliant tactician in the metaverse but in real life she is not all serious business! she is capable of fun!! makoto is a nice girl!! makoto is a girl who had to grow up too fast and mask her way into the good graces of the adults in her life! so she's awkward around kids her age!! and in situations that arent serious business (that she cant script as well) she isnt always sure how to best interact with her peers! but shes growing! shes going out of her way to experience new things! she wants to better embrace her anger because it means freedom for her!! after a childhood full of holding her tongue!! but she doesnt have a temper that makes her friends the victim of her misplaced aggression! and shes not a buzzkill!

[antisocialsharky]

Hello! I have a question, so I have an OC that has ASPD and I feel like I'm struggling to show the symptoms of it in my writings for them, I don't want to make their whole personality their discord but I also kinda want to show that something isn't completely alright with them, is there any subtle ways of writing/showing ASPD? I'm really sorry if this question is confusing!

Hi ^^ That'll highly depend on your individual character and the type of ASPD symptom combination you're trying to portray, as well as the individuals personal stance towards their symptoms, their therapy progress and what type of society you're writing the character into! So these suggestions might not fit/you may need to adjust them regarding those points:

• having unconventional ways of showing love/appreciation/affection => imagine character A. struggling with something and character B. comes along, plops a cat in their lap, says "found that around the corner, now smile", cus B. knows that A. likes cats and that that may comfort them, so they grab a random cat to cheer them up, or yk stuff like that? just something that would make other characters around them go "wtf?" but that is at its core still motivated by wanting the other person to feel better and just not knowing how to do it in conventional ways

• a sort of possessive aggressive attitude that may have to be reigned in by the partner/friends/parents/etc. at times => imagine character A. talks about having been accidentally pushed by another shopper and character B. just aggressively mumbles threats immediately, or character A. wants to go out with friends and character B. asks if they need a bodyguard to bash the touchy douchebags into the wall. and character A. going "hey reign in the violence please, this situation doesn't require that" or sum? if you get the vibe? sort of in the way that shows that character B's first instinct is to react aggressively and that they don't know in which situation its appropiate, but A. casually reminds them of it

• casually throwing in an absence of prosocial reactions => mentioning them not seeming very moved by a catastrophe, remarking how their emotions dont seem to go very deep, touching on a lack of social skills, showing that their relationships dont seem to be too emotionally involved, etc. but just...casually? like "...everyone was crying, lying in each others arms, as the TV showed the bomb detonate and the rubble crumble down, burying bodies beneath it. it took a while for everyone to calm down, A. was wiping the tears of their cheeks, C. had their head buried in B's arms, who had been as unbothered as usual trough the whole thing and soon went to make tea for everyone, as D. declared they needed some distraction" => including B. in the group dynamic but still making sure to hint that they don't care about the event itself. you can alter how obvious you wanna make it and whether you'd like to leave room for doubt...like as to whether they just seem unbothered or actually are, whether they make insensitive comments or not, etc.

• showing impulsivity/irresponsibility as a sort of playful/funny thing to the group => "A. asked: 'where the fuck is this duck coming from', as they watched C. sitting on a blanket under a tree, with a duck nibbling away on some crumbs next to them. 'I dont know, I think B. stole it from the pond or something? He keeps dragging in new animals, can't keep himself from picking them up', C. answered, grinning at their friend. 'well at least hes no longer going after peoples pets...', D giggled as they plopped down next to C. 'remember how furious old Mrs. Maddison was when B. knicked her cat for a few hours to see how many mice it would chase before it got tired? that cat refused to move a single inch afterwards', the three broke out in laughter at the memory" => bit less subtle, but you know just casually remarking on how the ASPD character stole something, or is gonna be like "chill I'll give it back in a bit...probably", or is absolutely oblivious that they did something mean/against the law, because their friends think its funny? casually remarking on them not going to work, not turning in assignments a la " 'are they coming into work today?' 'its B. so of course not' " etc.

• showing the lack of remorse as an accepted not uncommon response while highlighting the way they go around it => " C. smiled at the roses in the glass vase on the table, carefully touching them with their fingers. 'Did B. apologize for what they did', A. asked, sitting down opposite of their friend. 'B. doesn't do apologies, but I woke up to these roses, so we're good', C. smiled, 'Its not like they'd feel sorry anyway, as long as they try to make me feel better I don't have a reason to complain', they added with a shrug" => depends on the dynamic and what type of apologies parties require ofc, but showing the alternative way of cheering the other up and showing that B. recognized its needed? casually throwing in that they wouldnt feel sorry anyway, but C. is satisfied with it and thats all that matters? that sorta stuff

• hinting at a bad family history that explains a behavior they show => " A. put an arm around C. and shook her head: 'I cant believe B. would just leave you here after a literal argument, what an ass, did not one teach him how to treat a partner?' C. put her arm around A.'s waist and laughed bitterly: 'Who should have? That absent father of his or his mother who'd just slap him for every mistake. No, its no wonder B. ran at the first opportunity. He'll be back, he always is' " => not too on the nose in regards to ASPD specifically, but giving background info that hints at trauma and having problems because of it.

And yeah...you basically do that with every symptom you wanna show. Making a condition less obvious and less central is usually done by giving the character people that are used to it and make it seem normal, by putting them in a society where those behaviors are less judged, or by showing some progress of working around it while still highlighting that it causes issues! Hope that helps, tho feel free to DM me if you need any advice for specific situations ^^

[velvetvexations]

i havent seen this directly but a friend of mine showed me someone on this site claiming that t4t being transfem exclusive is "oral history well known to transfems" which is like. ok there are several issues with this lmfao like.

""oral history""?? transsexuality isn't the same as like, ethnicity. we dont HAVE secret hidden "oral history" that is being systemically quashed by the Evil Tee Em Ees, that's just such a stupid thing to say, such a transparent lie, it's frankly FUNNY. the phrase isnt even that old, it's only as old as craigslist itself is.

and if it was, so fucking what? transfemininity isnt so sacred that transmascs must be barred from EVERY ASPECT of our community's language. that's fucked up lmfao. i know trfs (and adjacent) dont give 2 fucks abt transmascs and their claims to our shared community but like jesus christ. be normal.

and finally like. is this "oral history" people like You lying abt it? bc thats what it looks like. it looks like this person got caught in the lies and misinfo they were spreading and scrambled to come up with something that defended their bullshit while simultaneously being impossible to prove.

the fact of the matter is t4t was never exclusive to any of us. whats most likely is it came into use naturally and spontaneously based on the lingo used on craigslists hookup pages, which are themselves just shorthand for longer phrases like "man seeking other man for hookup". like this is obvious.

the point of course is to ostracize and isolate transmascs from a community that belongs to them. it's bizaare that some people are actually falling for this bullshit. makes me sooo mad.

'oral history well known to transfems' is so fucking hilarious lmao what the fuck how are people this fucking stupid

[tateszn]

camera

a/n: thanks for almost 40 followers <3!! lowk becoming a superman-centered blog. i thought this was cute. out of the box premise? perchance? clark says serving lawwl. 643 words.

all of my fics are black!reader

you splurged and brought a brand new camera! it was one that you’d been eyeing and doing research on for a while. you bought it because you felt that you deserved it, but did you really need a reason? you also went ahead and bought a few sd cards. you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop recording everything for a while.

ever since you purchased it, it was a hassle to get you get you to put it down (as expected). you were constantly filming everything, in awe of your new gadget. you’d film everything you found interesting, whether in public or around the house. 

“look at my wonderful boyfriend, guys,” you point the camera to clark, “he’s chopping up fruit for the both of us. what a gentleman, mr and mrs kent tought you right.” 

“guys? who are you showing this to?” 

“hmmmm.. i don’t know.” you mumble while slowly zooming the lens at his smiling face. the small screen is soon filled with his face. 

“should i show what i’m cutting up?” clark is starting to understand why you recording everything is so enjoyable. he knows that the both of you being two peas in a pod makes you happy. he’s loving the fact that he has the ability to put a smile on your face.

“ouuu yes please!” 

“okay ‘guys’ we have apples, strawberries, dragonfruit, and a small watermelon.” he flashes the camera a smile and a small thumbs up. you smile behind the camera. 

“i’ll leave you alone, i’m going to show them my music.” ‘them’, really being no one. maybe some people someday, but for now, this was your own little video diary. 

when you’re out and about, you make sure to have your camera in your purse, just incase you see something cool. (obviously!) clark sometimes reminds you to bring it. partly because he knows you'll be dissapointed if you forget it, and partly because he also likes to record silly little videos with you while you’re both out.

“clark, record me so i can show them what i’m wearing, please.” he’s absolutely more than happy to oblige. you hand him the camera with a smile.

“how do i start it?” he asks with a confused tone. he’s staring at trillions of buttons, he couldn’t even begin to tell you which one does what.

“press the red button on the top.” you giggle. 

“okay, got it,” clark’s face lights up at his success, “look at my girl. ‘serving’ as she would say.” he narrates as he’s recording.

“boy, what do you know about that.” you laugh as you turn around to show the complete ensemble. you walk up to clark once you feel like the camera has had enough of you.

“alright! your turn.” you take the camera from him. clark stands in front of the camera awkwardly but charmingly simultaneously. 

“oh yeah, look at how handsome my man is, yall.” clark laughs and walks up to you to press a kiss to your forehead. he loves your compliments, but he’d be lying if he said they didn’t always get a little flustered. 

while you’re walking on the street, clark would randomly point at things and tell you to record it. 

“look! record me petting this cat!” he says, and of course you do it. you crouch down close to clark, and carefully capture the sight. the cat’s purrs are starting to be the only thing filling your ears after a while, the both of you immensely focused for some reason. the feline soon gets curious of the device in front of her. she begins to shove her face into the camera and sniff the lens.

“seems like she loves the camera, too.”

your storage is filled with videos of you and clark. you dont mind it at all, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

thank you @anitalenia for the divider!

[bulbabutt]

this is soooo my niche but i go crazy every time i see anyone try and seriously criticize the romances in 12 without ever mentioning the agency of the female characters as the core problem.

because that IS the problem with every single relationship in the show.

like you can make all the points about poor writing you want, keep bringing up that karai and leo are related, talk about donnie not taking a hint, that mikey's affections arent even returned etc etc, but if you ignore that the main issue with every single relationship is the misogyny of the writers you're not even saying anything!

the women's feelings dont matter in any romance INCLUDING raph and mona lisa's, because every part of their romance revolves around mona choosing raph over herself and her people.

every one of these romances wouldnt be as poorly written if the women involved were being treated as whole people and not just accessories to their male love interests.

it doesnt matter to the show if karai is related to leo by blood or not, cuz the show never bothers to ask HER how SHE feels about that OR how she feels about leo! it doesnt matter if renet likes or doesnt like mikey cuz the writers only throw her in to that so mikey has someone (esp since he's crushing on karais gf before this). and it SUPER doesnt matter if april ever liked donnie back cuz despite it being the inciting incident of the show they neeeeeever let you know what she actually thinks about donnie! because they DONT care!

literally that is why the only healthy relationship we see grow over the show is bebop and rocksteady AND IM NOT KIDDING! ITS A JOKE BUT ITS NOT BECAUSE BOTH OF THOSE MALE CHARACTERS WE UNDERSTAND THE DESIRES OF MORE THAN ANY WOMAN IN THE SHOW!!!

like its so funny cuz people use it as proof of like "oh you shouldnt do turtle romance" and its like THATS NOT EVEN THE PROBLEM! THE PROBLEM IS THEY NEED TO WRITE THE FEMALE CHARACTERS WITH SOME LIKE.... IDK. DESIRES OF THEIR OWN?!?!?!? SOME AGENCY???

sorry. just you know.... if you DONT bring up the misogyny as the core issue youre not actually talking about the real problem. you havent analyzed anything.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

They arent marrige chopsticks

Like no hate to zhongchi and tartali shippers or the ship itself

But the chipsticks thing is horribly misinterpreted based on lack of research and cultural understanding.

Dragons phoenix pairing has two meanings

Auspisiousness and harmony

And

Joyful celebration and harmonious union.

They are gifted to newly weds because of these symbolisms but giving someone dragon Phoenix chopsticks does NOT inherently mean marriage. Its just a common thing to give.

Not only that but dragon phoenix things are also given between business partners for the same reasons. If you want to have a long lasting and harmonious business relationship with someone or continue to have one, then you can give them many things, but dragon phoenix gifts are just as common.

Why specifically chopsticks? Because it ties in with childes inability to use them. Theres no deeper meaning. It literally says it right there that he hopes childe will practice with them. It shows his thoughtfulness and attentiveness and giving a sincere gift like that just makes it all the better as a gift to give to someone who you want a lasting partnership with.

Like make as many headcannons as you want idc i can see how it got misinterpreted

But dont say its canon when its not and you dont know anything about chinese culture other than rumours and poorly researched new articles made by americans.

i knew this already obviously, but i'm posting the ask despite the tone just in case someone didn't know bc it's true some people just aren't familiar w this

please get some reading glasses anon, bc i said the chopsticks being given was canon, not the ship or the fact they're marriage chopsticks or anything. the ask was asking where the chospticks thing came from and if it was fanon, so the answer is no, it's canon, zl does give chopsticks to childe. like that's a fact, headcanon or no, marriage meaning or no. that- that was the point of the ask. you know that, right?

why are you getting pressed enough to send such a long ask over a fan gag on a random fan blog (of many) on a fan fic (of *many*) on a fan ship on something the game, given the company's track record, is very obviously using as ship bait...? unless you didn't clock that last bit in. in which case- uh. well nothing i can do there for you

[missameliep]

Awwww!!!! I've found your reblog randomly on my notes and was 🥺🥰😍🥰😍😱🥹😭

Have i seen this before? Have I answered it privately? Am I getting amnesia, or is tumblr messing with me?

I really don't know anymore.

What i do know is this feedback of yours put such a huge smile on my face yesterday, and I went to bed happy and had to read it again now before knowing what to say.

I'm so happy you enjoyed it in spite of being a huge chapter. These days, whenever I get to write Second Chances I'm trying to move the plot foward as much as possible to at least reach the point I want to in their story (even if i dont get to write all that ive planned years ago).

I absolutely love Briar and love writing for her. Briar and Edmund’s side story will develop in its own pace but I'm trying to keep the vibes from book1, when they had a lot going on while all the drama ensues in the main plot.

Oh! I debated so much on including that part of Hamid's reasons to drink, I considered leaving this as something that lingers in his mind but he won't get to share for a while, but I thought it was important for their bond, to build trust and it would mean a lot to Elizabeth that he shared something like that he didnt tell his sisters. It's in her nature, despite trying to be pratical and rational (which she manages to do so much less than she thinks) she is a dreamer and fantasises a lot, including about people, and often projects an aura of perfection nobody can achieve and intimidates herself. Getting close to this group of people and Hamid especially is opening her eyes more and more, not only to what she has to offer but to how much everybody is also struggling with their own things, even if not as tragic and dramatic as her own background...

I have a confession.

The kiss was supposed to happen in chapter 27, but I got anxious and greedy and just went with it. I think they wanted it too, so it's alright. Has it completely messed with all i had written before for the next 4 chapters? Absolutely, but oh well, my children are walking on clouds now...

I wanted the kiss to feel natural, and not be like staged with love confessions and all of that (even though Hamid is the kind of guy who loves big gestures and poetry and eternal love confessions), I wanted to show him being there, enjoying the moment without feeling the urge to follow some script or overdoing it (or maybe fearing just a little bit that if Elizabeth could get cold feet again).

Thank you so much for reading and always supporting my writing, Lori! Your can't even imagine how much it means to me! ❤️

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Five: It starts with a kiss

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU 

Pairings: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC); Briar Daly x Edmund Marlcaster

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster.

Rating: M (see trigger warnings in the notes bellow)

Word count: ~8k

Summary: After the drinking games at Edgewater, before sunrise, someone will reveal their feelings; and fortunately those suffering with a hungover, won't need to deal with it alone.

A/N: 

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. Turkish words are translated in the notes in the end.

Trigger warnings: mentions of past drinking and drug consumption. Reader discretion advised.

This is my submission to @choicesprompts ' Flufftober 2024 Choices - prompts 1 (First Kiss)

September, 2018 – London – Friday night – six weeks before the weekend at Edgewater 

Slumped onto one of the large armchairs settled in the middle of the game room, Edmund used one controller to adjust the lights, a softer blueish hue surrounded them, and the other to select an option, starting the gameplay and its characteristic music blasted. 

Elizabeth sighed and asked, “Are you sure you’re not going? It’ll be fun.” 

“I avoided Theresa’s boring soirée at the Holloways and am finally free to enjoy a quiet night leading an assassin through Ancient Egypt, so unless a raging fire erupts, I’m not leaving this house.” 

“It's Friday night, Ed! I can’t believe you’d rather play video games instead of going out with us… Didn’t you say you and Annabelle were friends?” 

“I’ve said she was Harry’s friend, and we share a few common interests, but pubs crawl or whatever you folks will be doing is not one of them. Could you please move a bit to the left? You’re blocking the screen...” 

Crossing her arms, she huffed and stepped aside.  

“You complained you’re a twenty-four-year-old that lives a seventy-year-old man’s life and yet I’m inviting you to a night out with fun people and you’d rather stay home…” she shook her head slowly at him. 

“Not tonight, Eliza! Maybe next week I can go out and pretend to be young. But give me a few days’ notice to prepare myself...” 

A light tap on the doorframe and Elizabeth’s face darted to the brunette standing with a wide smile framed by flamming red lips.  

“Lizzy, I hope I’m not interrupting… but Annabelle and Luke texted they’re already there.” 

“I was just saying goodbye to my stepbrother. I don’t think you’ve met, have you?” 

The man sighed, before pausing the game. His gaze slowly moved from the screen and when he turned around to face the friend by the door his jaw almost dropped to the floor. The sight of the woman in black skinny trousers and a burgundy blouse waving at him with the most beautiful smile he has ever seen stole his breath away. 

“Hi, Edmund!”  

“Hi. Hello. You... Ah... Hi,” he mumbled, unable to control the increasing racing of his heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like? he wondered, while brushing his clammy hands against his trousers. 

Conscious of the impact she caused, Briar huffed a quiet laugh and shifted to address her friend. 

“Nice to meet you, Edmund,” she said while shaking his hand. “I hope we meet again.” 

“I am going with you!” he blurted out. 

“You are?” Elizabeth’s head whipped in his direction, and she stared in disbelief as he turned off the game and put the controller down at the coffee table. 

“I just need to go to my room,” he said rising from the armchair and brushing past them, ��Five minutes. I’ll meet you by the door.” 

Briar’s eyes followed the man almost running down the hallway, and she giggled. 

“Does it run in the family?” 

With a puzzled look, Elizabeth’s eyes darted to the same direction Briar was staring and she caught a glimpse of Edmund sprinting down the hall, “What does?”  

“Being cute and a dork?”  

October 28th, 2018 – Edgewater – Sometime after the drinking game 

It’s hard to tell when Edmund realized it was not the best idea for an engaged man to go knock on the door of a woman who is not his fiancée. It's even worse to do so in the middle of the night while slightly drunk.

He should’ve taken a cold shower to get rid of the idea that wormed its way into his mind, overshadowing every other thought concocted by his brain.

But he didn’t.

Anyways, he hates cold showers.

Staggering out of his room didn’t clear his mind or brought the realization of how bad that idea was. Crossing the few meters that separated his room from Briar’s door didn’t do it for him either. Not even when he tapped lightly with his knuckles, praying she was already sleeping and wouldn’t hear it - however, even then, his heart was clutching at the hope she would. So that was not that enlightenment moment either.

When the door slightly cracked open to allow visual confirmation of the night visitor, Edmund took a deep steadying breath, but it did little to stop his hands from shaking.

A moment later, Briar leaned against the doorframe smiling at him with such warmth that it was impossible not to think she cherished him. Maybe the only woman who ever did. And that was the moment he realised it was either the most brilliant move or his worst idea ever. Still, he once more was torn between the options. 

Playing with a long lock of her hair, her gaze lingered on his face, and she asked with a smile, “Trouble sleeping?” 

“I need to talk. To get this out of my chest. Can I come in?” 

Masking her surprise with another smile, she nodded and moved to the side, no questions asked. 

That was their thing, wasn’t it? Heart to heart conversations in the middle of the night... Only this time, he would also see her face while talking... and maybe he would find the answers he wishes. 

The man zigzagged until his knee bumped in the bed, and he slumped on the mattress. Giggling, she closed the door.

“You’re sloshed, Eddie!” her giggles fanned his face when she sat on the bed beside him and helped him sit up.   

“I’m certainly not. How dare you imply – No, I’m utterly sloshed. I can’t even pretend I’m not.” He let out a heartfelt laughter, and she used a hand to cover his mouth and shush him.  

His clear blue eyes crinkled with a smile. The gentle touch of her hand and the proximity of their bodies made his heart race. It was a shame this blurriness prevented him from seeing her eyes more clearly and the natural form of her lips without any lipstick. But he could tell he loved them nonetheless.

“Quiet or you’ll wake everyone up,” she hissed, but there was no edge on her voice, while her hand slowly retreated. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed, and a tentative hand reached out to rest on Briar’s cheek, who didn’t flinch. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even more, when I’m sober, because I can really see you... You’re a bit blurred now... and I can’t see your eyes... and I adore your eyes… they are so… so… intense… and warm... and kind... But my mind already knows you’re beautiful. Inside too. Not your insides... insides... like your guts... but your mind and your heart –” He stopped talking when she failed to stifle her giggles.  

“You’re laughing at me!” he mumbled, and pulled his hand away. 

Trying to stifle her giggles, she tried to remedy the situation, placing her hand on his bouncing knee when his uneasiness drove him to the edge of the mattress. She wasn’t certain if she wanted him to stay, but she didn’t want him to leave yet.

“Was that the urgent matter you needed to ‘get out of your chest’?” she questioned with a soft voice, matching the proximity shared. His attention immediately returned to her, and a timid smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“No, but your beauty is too distracting…” There was a lilt of laughter in his tone, and his fingers combed his ash blonde hair back and rested at the nape of his neck.  

“I won’t apologise for that,” she huffed a laugh, and her cheeks were noticeable darker from blushing because of his words, and this alone almost sobered him up.  

Edmund leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and his breath carried the scent of mint flavoured toothpaste mixed with a hint of liquor – more than a hint, actually.  

She suspected the liquor fuelled this unexpected audacity, considering how shy and restrained he was during their ride this afternoon; however, if asked, he would say this was all about her, her presence was intoxicating, and his self-control reached its limit tonight. 

Her breath hitched when his hand touched her cheek this time. Closing her eyes, she revelled on the feather light touch of his thumb caressing her velvety skin, following a path towards her mouth. When he traced the curves of her lips, it quietened everything else but her thunderous heartbeats. 

Her tongue was emptied, no flirty or funny words ready to fly away... In fact, every brain cell was screaming for her to shut up and kiss him; and his were probably doing the same, considering the way his hooded eyes fixed on her mouth when he leaned even closer. Without any warning, he bowed until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. Their gazes locked for a second that lasted an eternity, a silent dialogue between their yearnings.  

The pull of her luscious lips became so irresistible.  

Waiting for permission, his lips ghosted hers and they were so close he could almost taste her exhales. 

Briar said nothing, licked her lips and closed the gap.

At first, his lips touched hers delicately, then more insistently when his hand slid to the back of her neck and brought their faces closer. It was awkward for a few seconds, too much tension, noses bumping and eyes wide open staring at the other; until her hands cradled his cheeks and gently tilted his head to adjust his position.  

This was enough to make it more and more enjoyable. Her lips glided over his, and when she captured his lower lip between hers, he let out a barely audible gasp. And she made a mental note about his reaction.  

More confident, one of his hands caressed her knee while the fingers on the one nestled on the nape of her neck delved into her hair, eliciting goosebumps and she let out a sigh.

The moment he parted his lips, allowing their tongues to meet for the first time, it felt as if the sole purposes of their lips and tongues were to kiss one another.  

When she pulled away to try and catch her breath, his lips followed hers, and she smiled to herself satisfied, both hands cradling his face.  

Meanwhile, Edmund’s entire body tingled, and there was a pleasant warmth enveloping him, as if being swaddled by a duvet someone else warmed just for you.

Looking at her, his brain buzzed with a swarm of thoughts. Did he drink too much or was there really something different about kissing Briar? A spark. An energy. A connection. 

“Did you feel it too? Tell me I’m not bloody crazy…” he asked, leaning his forehead to touch hers. 

“I’m not a psychiatrist, Eddie… but I think you lost your mind. I definitely did, too.” 

With a huff, his head tilted back, and before another loud laughter escaped his mouth, she covered it with her hand. This time, he grabbed it and kissed her palm gently, and her eyes fluttered close. 

“We’re both too sloshed for this...” 

“I can’t… I can’t think of anything else. Only you, Briar.” 

Hearing those words was bittersweet. It was exactly what she hoped for, but not like this. Not a drunk confession. And especially not after spending time with Theresa and knowing she’s oblivious to their flirting and growing affection. And now they’re kissing while she sleeps! 

“You shouldn’t say things like that...” she chided, “Your fiancée is asleep somewhere... over there...” Her free hand pointed randomly at the wall beside them, and he grimaced.  

“This has nothing to do with her… let’s pretend for a moment I’m not engaged.”  

Frowning, she pulled her hand from his grasp.  

“What a nasty thing to say!”  

“Briar,” Edmund called her name, his voice softer and more slurred, but she didn’t look back at him and pushed his chest. “I told you, Theresa and I… that is not real… she doesn’t love me either… she loves… loved… somebody else… not me… but you and I… I –”  

“Is she aware of how you feel? Because the engagement seems pretty real to her! She showed me pictures of bloody wedding dresses!” 

Edmund’s hand rubbed his face, and he exhaled loudly.  

“If you’re here for a one nightstand, just... own it! Don’t sweet talk me...” 

“Briar, I think – not think, I know… I fell for you.” 

Slack jawed, she gaped, and it took her a few breaths to find the words again. “Eddie… You shouldn’t say that either. You do have a fiancée and you’re sloshed… I know you’ll regret everything tomorrow... and leave me heartbroken.” 

“Never. You got me head over heels… I’m yours.” 

Briar’s face tilted upwards, and she stared at the ceiling for a long moment and let out a loud frustrated exhale. If cupid was a real thing, she would murder hers slowly and painfully. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she muttered under her breath. 

“Is it Woods?” 

“Arthur?” Her head whipped to look at him. “What does Arthur have to do with this mess?” 

“Do you love him?” 

“I-” she paused and pressed her lips together. “I could... eventually... but not when... because of this..." Her finger pointed back and forward at them. 

There was too much satisfaction in hearing those words, and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“You feel it too?” he asked, and his voice was barely above a whisper. 

“What if I do? Does it change anything?” 

Edmund tentatively touched her face and guided her eyes to look back at him. “It changes all!”

“How?” she asked, but immediately changed her mind and waved her hands. “Please, don’t tell me... or... I’ll believe you.” 

“Believe me.” 

He pulled her in for another kiss, and all the fight left her when his tongue swirled with hers. He was already leaning to push her down on the mattress, but she pushed him back.

“No more kissing.” Out of breath, Briar placed a hand on his chest to put some distance between them and held her head high. “Talk. Tell me what you’ll do. I won’t be anyone's playtoy.”

Edmund obediently complied. It felt invigorating to make plans for his own future without consulting with his mother first, and especially plans that included Briar. They talked some more and kissed one last time before sleep claimed their eyes sometime before dawn.

Briar's face was the last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered close, and he thought that was heavenly.

A persistent buzzing noise invaded Elizabeth’s dreamless sleep, almost like the sounds of cicadas in scorching summer nights demanding the world’s attention to their performance. Answering the compelling call, her eyes fluttered open, but it was the same as if they didn’t. Surrounded by darkness, the coldness kissing her feet that escaped from underneath the duvet reminded her it wasn’t summer. She immediately pulled it, rubbing the cold feet against the mattress.  

While her body reluctantly woke up and her brain regained consciousness, she was confronted by confusion and immense discomfort all at once, reminders of the insane amount of alcohol she ingested last night.  

Her head ached as if samba percussionists were beating repeatedly their instruments out of cadence to punish her. The parchedness in her mouth seemed like she had wandered the desert for days. Trying to alleviate it, her lips parted, but her mouth had dried out and it was difficult to swallow and get rid of the disgusting taste sitting on her tongue.  

The buzzing sound echoed again, attacking her ears, and she realized it was probably the mobile vibrating with incoming messages over the nightstand. Even though she wondered what time it was, the identity of the caller or texter and their reasons to be trying to reach her in what she assumed was the middle of the night didn’t pique her interest at all, if anything it riled her up for disturbing her rest. Mustering the strength to reach the nightstand to turn off the phone, she tried to roll over, but something blocked her path and restrained her motion. Not something, but someone. 

In the dark she couldn’t rely on her sight, but her other senses worked perfectly, collecting information of quiet sounds of breathing behind her, the light pressure of a body against her back, and the arm she finally noticed dangling over her waist underneath the covers. And lastly, the fragrance that reached her nostrils was unmistakable. 

“Hamid?” her voice sounded hoarse in the quiet room, almost unrecognisable.  

The body stirred, and he hummed his response. His warm breath fanned her neck, and if she wasn’t so overwhelmed, she would have enjoyed it. 

Why are you in my bed, dude? The question died in her tongue, but not the surprise stirred by his presence. 

“Do you need to go to the toilette again?” his sleepy voice reached her ears.  

Again? When did I even go to the toilet?  

Her mind raced, trying to cling to any memory that could explain Hamid sleeping on her bed. But she found none. Maybe she should take the hint, get up, go to the toilet, wash her face, and drink some water. And definitely get some aspirins before her head explodes, and something for the burning stomach and nausea too. And maybe if she feels better, she will remember. 

“I’m thirsty,” she said fighting the dryness of her mouth. 

His arm retreated, and his hand lightly brushed the skin of her abdomen, and soon was gone, but not the goosebumps on its wakening.   

“The glass is empty, but if you give me a minute, I’ll get you some more…”  

“Don’t worry. I’ll get up…” she said without moving to get off the bed right away.  

His weight shifted in the mattress. Hamid rubbed his eyes and stretched his arm aimlessly until his fingers reached the switch in the wall. The room was flooded by bright light.  

“Turn it off, please!” she squealed scrunching her eyelids. Her hands flew to her eyes, mostly because of the bright lights, and only partially because of the brief sight of his bare torso. “Why are you shirtless? Are you naked?” 

“Don’t you remember?”  

“I-I don’t…” 

“Allah Allah, I thought that was memorable...” 

The pacing of the tiny percussionists inside her brain grew even faster and stronger, and her heart joined the rhythm.  

“What are you talking about?” she dared ask with a strangled voice. 

“The re-enactment of the projectile vomit scene from the Exorcist,” he said very slowly, and realization dawned on her. 

“Oh, my god! I puked? On you?”  

“Fortunately, you had asked me to take you to the toilette, and my t-shirt was the target and not my face.” 

“I puked on you?” she repeated, shocked by the idea. 

What the flying fudge cracker! That's a whole new level of stupidity, isn’t it? Why did I drink this much? 

“I’m so sorry!” she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. “That’s so gross… I-I… Sorry.”  

She wanted to run away and hide forever, but her body was so tensed it froze. 

“Hey,” he said softly, but she didn’t uncover her eyes. After calling her name, his hand reached one of hers, which she reluctantly let him grab – she couldn’t understand why on earth he was anywhere near her.

“It’s okay, Liz. You did nothing wrong.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s untrue... I’m mortified... What else do I have to apologise for?” 

“Don’t worry, aside from the vomiting and being horny and handsy, drunk Liz makes delightful company...”

The joke did little to lessen her embarrassment. How can he be so chill about it? 

“What do you mean by ‘handsy’?” 

“You tried to kiss me and grab my butt.” 

“What? I would never!” she protested, knowing well enough that she prefers his sculpted torso and arms to his bottom, even though it has a nice round shape... And she's clearly still a bit horny. 

“You also took ‘no’ for an answer, which was remarkably respectful.” 

She let an exasperated huff through her mouth and pressed her hands against her face. “I can’t have this conversation now...” 

“We can revisit it some other time, I’ll gladly share the details.” 

“How about never?” 

Smiling, he sat straighter and lighted the lamp on the nightstand. His eyes, cleared of sleep, stared directly at hers, “Drinking like that is unusual to you, I understand. And you don’t have to feel embarrassed about what happened.” 

“That’s impossible...” she sighed and looked at him, wondering what else she has said and done. “Just to clarify, you’re not naked…” 

“No, I’m not. And I’d never cross that line. You were drunk and asked me to stay, and I did. To keep you company. That’s all.” 

Relief washed over her, and she smiled. “Thanks. For not… you know… and for sticking around.”  

“Don’t mention it. Someone had to hold your hair up, prevent you from dancing and falling on your magnificent bottoms, and bumping your head on the furniture.”  

“Oh, God! It did happen then!” Hamid nodded. “Is that why my head hurts?” Her fingers raked her hair, searching for any sign of a bump.  

“I’m pretty sure that’s the alcohol.” 

“What time is it?” 

He picked his mobile in the nightstand. “7:45.” Stealing a sideway glance at her worried face, his finger caressed the back of her hand, and he asked softly, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you something to drink? Annabelle brought a bottle of isotonic drink. And I can get you something to eat…”  

“I – No, I’m fine now. Even thinking about food makes me sick… I’ll go to the... you know… and you... go back to sleep. Excuse me.” 

Hamid let go of her hand, and Elizabeth rolled to the opposite side of the bed, moving away from him, and not looking back even when she felt his stare. She swung her legs touching the carpet and noticed both her socks were gone. Her feet were heavy, just like the rest of her body, and she dragged them on her way to the en-suite. The touch of the frigid floor against the soles of her feet, caused her to shiver, and she mentally cursed not putting on the slippers. 

Closing the door, she barely had the time to turn on the light before her legs started giving away underneath her. Pressing her hands against the cool marble of the sink to support her weight, she avoided stumbling or collapsing to the floor. Performing every little task took too much energy, and she almost gave up on washing her face, but the invigorating cold water gave her the necessary boost to continue. By the time she took the toothbrush to her mouth, she needed to sit down. Flopping down into the wooden bench near the bathtub, she noticed Hamid’s white t-shirt soaked-wet dangling over the rim of the tub, and two pairs of socks hanging on the faucet.  

Suddenly, a panicked Hamid kneeling on the floor in front of her, begging her to keep her eyes open flashed before her eyes; was it a memory or her imagination? 

Her hand barely moved to brush her teeth, and her heavy eyelids were impossible to keep open with all the light around her. She would close them for one second, maybe two.  

The sound of the toothbrush falling and hitting the floor didn’t wake her up, but she couldn’t ignore the soft but persistent rapping on the door. 

“Liz,” Hamid asked softly, “are you alright?” 

Her hand rubbed the foam from her lips and chin, and she picked up the toothbrush from the floor. “I’m fine,” she replied getting up, and the movement made her dizzy. Slowly moving back to the sink, she heard him speaking again.  

“You’ve been in there for a very long time…” 

“I’m brushing my teeth.” 

She washed her mouth, took another gulp of tap water, and tied her hair in a high bun.

When she opened the door, Hamid was standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a worried look. It surprised her that he didn’t go back to sleep or to his own room. 

“How are you, really?” he asked, carefully speaking in a low tone that wouldn’t be uncomfortable considering the aftereffects of the alcohol.  

“I brushed my teeth, but my mouth still tastes like a smelly old brolly –” 

Hamid chuckled and it eased the frown of his brows. “That’s very specific. How do you even know what it tastes like?” 

“My mind does,” she sighed. “My head hurts. My stomach is on fire, and I could drink a bucket of water. And mostly I’m feeling incredibly dumb for drinking this much again...” And puking on you. 

“For now, we can take care of the head and stomach.” 

Walking past her, Hamid crouched and opened a door of the cabinet under the sink. With familiarity, he produced a white box with a red cross painted at the top from the first shelf and took a bottle of antacids and another of aspirins, both were placed on the sink in front of her.  

With a grimace she drank the liquid as instructed and the pill sat bitterly on her tongue while she waited for him to come back with the bottle of Gatorade.

Watching her swig half of the content of the bottle without stopping to breath, an amused smile parted his lips. 

“And for the dumbness –” 

“You’ll keep mocking me endlessly and not let me forget it...” her tongue was quicker and sharper than his ever would, and she huffed in frustration, letting her shoulders slump. 

“Why would I do that?” he asked softly, brows knitted together while trying to meet her gaze. 

She pursed her lips and said nothing in return. Shame taking over, her eyes focused on anything else but his face.  

“A word from you and I’ll never speak about tonight. A joke is not worth it, if it causes you pain. You can expect nothing but understanding from me. Like I said before, I truly believe you deserve kindness, hayatım[1], and not more criticism.”  

Her eyes flicked from her folded hands to his eyes, his expression changing from one of concern to a more relaxed one while he reminisced about the night before.  

“Last night, you have laughed, joked and been the most open around a group of people since I met you. You looked happy, truly happy. Relaxed. And that wasn’t just the alcohol. You were in a safe place and let your guard down. I agree drinking this much isn’t good for you... But why shaming yourself? Why not learning from it instead? You can’t change anything that happened, but you can make different choices in the future, if you desire, no? And if you don’t, I’ll hold your hair up again.” 

There was so much empathy in his tone that if she wasn’t so dehydrated, her eyes would be watering. She mouthed a soundless thank you and he inched closer. 

Standing behind her, he gently squeezed her shoulders, and they looked at each other’s reflections in the mirror.  

Instead of the pink plaid PJs, she was sporting a long sleeved green one with no buttons, and she wondered if Hamid was the one who changed it.  

As if reading her mind, he said softly, “Annabelle changed your clothes, after we cleaned you up.” 

“I must thank her later.” 

That was the first time she truly looked at herself.  

The reflection looking back at her was pale, her usual tan had completely vanished these past months; smudged eyeliner and dark stains of mascara accentuated the dark circles under her reddened eyes, which seemed smaller due to the puffy eyelids. She looked spent. The entangled hair had been pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head, and a few shorter curls had escaped the imposed restraint, sticking out close to her ears and neck. All in all, she was a complete mess while Hamid looked unfairly handsome with slightly flattened bed hair, the shadow of a beard and a big smile that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle; somehow, despite the vomiting, and deprivation of sleep she imposed him, there was so much adoration in his eyes that even in her current state was impossible to miss. 

“Hamid, can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“Why are we all here, Liz? Isn’t that the fundamental Philosophical question?” 

“Silly,” she chided, and his chuckle was so very close to her ear when he leaned forward that raised all the hair in her body and fogged her brain for a while.

“You know what I mean! You could be sleeping tight in your bed right now... instead, you spent the night taking care of my dumb drunk arse... when you had no obligation to.” 

“I like your cute dumb drunk arse...” He winked, and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I! I’m a fan.”

Chuckling, Hamid hugged her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Someone needed to hold your hair, and let’s say I know what it feels to be so utterly sloshed and not having anyone to look after me.” 

“You do?”  

He hummed. His breath fanned the bare skin of her neck.  

“But I won’t bother you with such an inane story. Let’s get you to bed.” 

“I wouldn’t mind listening to it...”  

His lips twitched, possibly surprised by the request, and he looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment, the way she hid a yawn against a palm, but still tried to keep her eyes focused on him. 

“Maybe some other time...” he replied while gently turning her around, but keeping her in the circle of his embrace, “You look about ready to fall asleep in my arms... not that I’d ever complain about that….” He winked at her, very flirty, in that Hamid-like fashion that makes her knees weak, and even though it wasn't far from the truth, she recognized the diversion right there in his words.

“I like a good bedtime story...” she said softly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze over her shoulder, “And your voice...” She might’ve learned a thing or two about charming someone with him.

“Then how could I not humour you?”

Smiling, Hamid helped her sit on the bed and pulled the covers over her legs, and she remained sitting, looking expectantly.

In the dimly lit room, Hamid sat in front of her, legs crossed, took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“I only got really sloshed a handful of times... My sisters took care of me, helped me hide it from my parents... But one time, it happened during a trip with friends... We went to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate my 19th birthday. Most of my memories are fogged... You must have seen what happens to six lads with loads of cash partying at Amsterdam...” 

“I actually never been there...” 

“Haven’t you? I must take you there. It's lovely in the spring.” 

His fingers reached her hand, and his thumb was very distractingly caressing the back of her hand, following the paths of green veins till her wrist and back. Another distraction, she realized. Caressing the back of his hand with her free hand in return, she asked, “What happened to you?” 

He hummed, and she suspected he was carefully choosing the words to continue. 

“Everything went brilliant until the night before our flight... We went clubbing and met these girls, very friendly, seniors at uni, gorgeous… and had us wrapped around their fingers.” He chuckled. “We followed them like puppies to another club and to another... By the time we got to the third one, I was so wasted, I could barely stand on my own, but I didn’t want to admit it and go back to the hotel... So, my friend Lewis stayed with me, but while he was away hitting on one of the girls or whatever… I don’t know… I guess I accepted a pill that was definitely not aspirin…” 

“Someone drugged you?” her voice shrieked, piercing her own brain, and she looked at his face over her shoulder, and he clicked his tongue. 

“Nobody was sober at that point, and I probably said I was cool with it...” Hamid paused at her concerned expression and tried to explain, “The day before, I tried space cake and smoked a little hashishe... anyway... It was a harmless experience. We laughed for hours sitting at the grass...” 

“But you were already drunk! You couldn’t consent!” Elizabeth snapped, head racing with all the legal issues this story poses. This was the sort of thing she worried about whenever going our to clubs and parties and one of the reasons she was vigilant with her and her friends’ drinks, and to hear something like that happened to Hamid not in theory made her chest tight, even though he sounded so nonchalant about it.

Hamid’s shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let out a deep breath; the smile faltered a little and his expression transformed entirely.

Was he regretting telling me?

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m doing it again...” 

“It’s alright.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Maybe I should stop, so you can sleep.” 

She shook her head, widening her eyes to fight the sleep.

“I woke up at the hospital. Someone had found me lying on a bench at Oosterpark and called emergency. I had no documents, no coat, and no shoes... It was winter. My clothes were drenched from the rain…” 

“Wow... that's... you could have died...” Elizabeth pointed out the obvious, and instantly regretted it.

“Trust me, I know. The doctor gave me a long and detailed speech about hypothermia. And drugs. And unprotected sex, even though I don’t remember even kissing anybody… They poked me with needles, ran tests and gave me some pills just in case…”  

“Dude…” Elizabeth muttered but stopped before any of the concerns bubbling in her brain escaped again.  

He looked expectantly, but she didn’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to shut down that voice in her mind whispering judgmental and useless advice about something that happenend to him years ago, and listened to her heart. Pushing the covers aside, she moved on the bed and sat on the balls of her feet right in front of him.

“I – I’m sorry this happened to you,” she said softly and genuinely, and his expression eased when no chiding came out of her mouth.  

“I’m not,” he said, and the smile was back on his face. “Almost dying in such a stupid way had positive outcomes.” 

She gaped. “How can you see a bright side in this story, Hamid?” 

“There is always a silver lining,” he said with a familiar cheerful tone, but still soft enough not to bring her discomfort. “First, I realized I didn’t like drinking that much or getting hungover… I dance better, and my jokes are funnier when I’m sober. And from that day on, I’m an advocate of remembering the things I do and not losing my passport. So, I decided not to drink. Unless it is raki with babam and dedem[2]. Second, I don’t know if I’ll live a short or long life; but I can choose how to live my best life, with no regrets, appreciating the beauties, welcoming the joys... and obviously, adrenaline rushing through my veins fuels me!” He looked pointedly at her, and she remembered the incident with the horse. 

“Not with disregard to my safety,” he let out the words with a chuckle, holding her hands in his. “And, when my time comes, hopefully it won’t be blacked out drunk in a park bench...”

She held his hands tighter, as if possible to shield him from such a fate with sheer will. 

“I hope your learning process included finding a better group of friends,” she mumbled, and he chuckled.  

“Don’t be so hard, güzelim[3]. They are good people. At the time, we were too young and sheltered… mortality was not part of our vocabulary.”  

How incredible it must be to be so careless and not have this sort of concern!  

That was never the case for her.  

Death and sickness have been her companions in life for so long that her identity is linked to those grim subjects. In the past five years, no decision in her life has been made without considering either of them. Letting out a long and loud sigh, she pondered how different they were in so many more ways than she first assumed.  

“Gosh, if it were me… I’d…” she trailed off, and he jumped in to complete her sentence, “You wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Lowering her gaze, but unable to control the blush that bloomed in her cheeks, she admitted he was right and that she wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“However,” she added, “I was going to say that if I were you, I’d never want to see those people again! How could they leave you like that? What sort of friend does that?” Her indignation transpired in her tone and disgusted face. 

“I don’t blame them. It wasn’t their responsibility to take care of me... I’m responsible for my choices, good or bad.”  

Meeting his eyes, there was no shame in them, on the contrary, Hamid’s countenance expressed relief. Noticing the attentive gaze studying him, he smiled. 

“I never spoke about any of this; not even to my sisters.” 

“Why not?” 

“They would gang up on me, obviously… and everything turned out alright. My friend Burak found my coat at the club, my passport and mobile were in the pocket... A happy ending.” 

She watched his face and the wide and bright smile directed at her. 

“You didn’t need to tell me either, so, why did you?” 

“There’s a simple explanation for that,” he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are very special to me, Elizabeth Foredale, and I want you to know me. The real me. Isn’t this what people do? To get to know each other?” 

Even in the low light, his eyes were shining. His gaze could be described with many words, none of which was a synonym for friendly.

Touched by his words and without giving herself time to change her mind, Elizabeth’s hand cradled his jaw, and her lips touched his dimpled cheek in a gentle but lingering kiss.

After a fraction of a second to overcome the surprise, Hamid revelled on it, letting his eyes flutter closed to fully appreciate the gentleness of her touch, and his lips stretched into a wide grin.

It was nothing like the fleeting air kisses they often share. 

Before she considered ending the kiss, his hand covered hers, keeping it in place.

The alchool had drained her body, but right now every nerve was suddenly alight by his presence, by the warm touch of his hand on top of hers.

His eyes fluttered open to meet hers in a sidelong glance. They knew. They had crossed the line. They were no longer in friends’ territory. And, for the first time, she let herself want more, ignoring the boundary she herself tried to place between them.

She got greedy. 

When her lips slowly but steadily glided over the roughness of the slight growth of beard of his unshaved face to the turned corner of his smile, Hamid let out a soft exhale through his nose. The warmth of the air travelled over the skin of her hand and wrist inflaming her entirely, and her heartbeats sped up.

Taking a deep breath, her lungs were filled with Hamid's fancy perfume. It was intoxicating in an unexpected way: it quietened the entire world. Actually it quietened her mind. For once, her brain was entirely focused on this moment and all the overwhelming feelings Hamid stirred on her.

Any hesitancy slipped away at the sight of his tongue moistening his lips. And that was the last thing her eyes registered. Her brain could no longer focus on anything that was not Hamid's lips smoothly moving over hers.

His lips were very soft, incredibly so against her own. They brushed against hers for a brief quiet moment, but it was enough to irradiate a heat, an electricity throughtout her body. It was like a dam breaking, and she was flooded with so much want. The second time her lips brushed against his, she was certain this wasn't like any kiss she had before.

She pulled away enough to gaze into his eyes, the corners crinkled by an adoringly smile; even such a diminute distance seemed unbearable to Hamid, and his hand cupped her cheek to close the distance between their mouths almost entirely.

The tip of his long curved nose brushed against the tip of hers, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he said her name in awe, even with her eyes closed. His thumb brushed her lips, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

In her mind, Elizabeth envisioned more than once where and when their first kiss could happen. It always envolved a perfect romantic scenario, careful planning, fancy dinners and Hamid probably literally sweeping her off her feet. However, the reality was unplanned, and her brain might have short-circuited at some point... There's not even a carefully selected soundtrack playing in the background, just the sounds of their breathing and the pitter-patter of rain.

Yet, nothing could be more perfect than the way his lips welcomed hers. Her fantasies couldn’t compete with the reality of the tenderness of every gesture of his, the pressure of his lips, the light touch of his tongue over her lower lip, or the hand cupping her cheek so very gently.

When Elizabeth pulled back, his nose nuzzled her jaw and down her neck, and she gasped. The sound pleased Hamid, who hummed against her jaw and captured her lips one last time.

Her eyes met his briefly, but she quickly lowered her face, overcame by embarrassment and doubts of what to do or say.

The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, and he whispered, “I could kiss you forever, Liz.”  

When her eyes raised to meet his, Hamid was already staring at her. His gaze could be described with many words, none amongst them was a synonym for friendly, and she rolled her lips inside her mouth.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

She shook her head, and took a deep calming breath.

“You make me feel many things,” -- happy, giddy, confused, excited... and several other she'd be mortified to admit even to herself... -- “’Uncomfortable’ is not one of them.” 

His lips split into the widest grin she’s ever seen, before he swallowed and asked in a low and husky voice, “Care to tell me how I make you feel now?”  

“Right now?” Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and she focused on the feeling of being in his arms earlier. Except for her dear father, she can’t remember feeling safer around a man nor willing to spend a lifetime in an embrace. “Happy. Safe.” 

“I am glad you do. I want you to trust me.” 

She met his stare again, and he was flashing a broad unabashed smile. They didn’t move an inch, staring into each other's eyes. Was she even breathing? She couldn’t be certain she was. 

“Aren’t you curious about how you make me feel?”  

His question startled her. Of course, she wanted to know that, but how could she speak over the thunderous beating of her heart and risking dozens of butterflies flying away if she opened her mouth, like in the Brazilian soap operas with magical realism she used to watch with her mother as a kid. She pursed her lips and nodded, which was enough for him to carry on. 

“You also make me feel many emotions, Liz. The most frequent is happiness. A complete, perfect and unwavering bliss whenever I am around you. And even when we’re not together… My days are more vibrant since you are in my life…” 

“Even after tonight?”  

“Why would tonight change anything?” 

“Aren’t you even a little upset? Tired?” 

“Tired?” He clicked his tongue. Leaning impossibly closer, he whispered into her ear, “Inşallah[4], someday you’ll see how long I can keep going without any sleep...” When Elizabeth shivered, the pleased smirk in his lips indicated that was the intended effect, and he rubbed his hands against her arms. “However, you, my dear, seriously need to rest.” 

“Actually, father wanted to have breakfast with me and after brunch I promised to go with Annabelle and Briar to this spa at Moorfield and –” 

“As much as I believe you to be an overachiever, you need to rest, Liz,” he cut off the flood of words. “Besides, the last Annabelle checked on you was around 4am... So, trust me on this, go back to bed, we won’t see any of them before lunch. And message your father, tell him you have a minor headache and will be staying in your room until you feel better…”  

Elizabeth listened to his reasoning and bit one thumbnail. Judging by the way she looked, no amount of coffee would keep her functional long enough to perform any social activity. Finally, she gave in to the irresistible call of the bed.  

Hamid went to the en-suite, while she typed the message to her father, ignoring the stinging feeling in her stomach, that could be guilty from skipping breakfast with him or due to the hole the alcohol probably burnt there. But Hamid was right, it was past the time to prioritize her needs, even if it meant disappointing others. 

After texting her friends, she was about to go through the several notifications in the screen, when the en-suite door opened and closed. Hamid’s silhouette strolling toward the soft light of the bedroom was all broad shoulders and strong arms. Over the screen of the mobile, her gaze fixed at him, admiring his confident swagger towards her.  

The blue light from the screen denounced her attempt of appreciating the sight inconspicuously, and Hamid grinned at the attention but for once chose to say nothing about it. 

When he turned around to settle the medicines and a glass of water over the nightstand, Elizabeth admired his taut muscles, and noticed the dimples on his lower back right above the waist band of his jeans. Her fingers craved to map every inch of his uncovered skin, and the thought alone sent a flow of heat all over her body. She forced her eyes back to the screen and turned the airplane mode on before putting the mobile away.  

Leaning forward, he touched the side of her face gently and kissed the top of her head. 

“I think you’re all set,” he whispered against her hair, “I’ll let you sleep now.” 

“You’re leaving?” her tone didn’t conceal the surprise and disappointment. 

“Don’t you want me to go?” 

“I-I wouldn’t mind… If you wanted to... stay... it’s a big bed…” She fidgeted with the hem of the shirt, without raising her gaze to meet his, and couldn't find the right words to speak, and stuttered the ones she found, even if they didn't make sense, “It doesn’t... mean that we... anything... I guess... but you don’t have to go. If you don’t want to.” 

“I understand," he said, smiling to himself. "If I stay, do we get to cuddle like before?” 

She swallowed and couldn’t prevent the smile from curling her lips whem she nodded.  

Without another word, he sat on the bed.

She moved aside to give him space, and went under the covers, lying on her back. The fragrance of his perfume on the pillows was inebriating.

When the mattress shifted with his weight, she took a deep breath. The lights were dimmed to their softest glow and a moment later, Hamid was lying beside her on his back, stirring the flutter of thousands of butterflies in her stomach. 

He stretched one arm, adjusted the pillow over it, and, with a nod of his head, invited her to rest her head.

Elizabeth obliged, moving closer and let her head rest in the pillow. Hamid's arm encircled her waist, he kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, “Sleep tight, Liz!”

Her answer was an almost inaudible “You too, Hamid.”

In Hamid's embrace, Morpheus visited Elizabeth unsurprisingly fast, not giving her any time for second guessing her decisions.  

A familiar melody invaded his dreamless sleep and Edmund stirred in the bed, failing to recognize his whereabouts.  

The mattress shifted when the woman sleeping beside him turned around, facing the other way. Flashes from their conversation and kisses invaded his mind, but were soon chased away by the persistent melody getting louder.

His hand patted his pants first, and then the space between them until he found the mobile that slipped from his pocket.  

It was dark and he could barely open his sleepy eyes, but he would recognize the caller’s picture anywhere.  

His gaze flicked to the black hair sprawled over the duvet, and he jumped out of the bed, instinctively shying away from the incriminating scene. Moving closer to the wall, he coughed twice, clearing his throat, before accepting the call, and prayed for silence. 

“Hello, mother,” he spoke in the lowest but clearest tone possible trying not to wake the woman in bed. 

“Let me talk to Theresa,” the woman barked the order, forgetting any rule of politeness – not that she reserved that kind of curtesy to her eldest son, especially not after he became the only one. 

“She’s currently not...” Edmund stuttered and considered what to answer. “We’re not together... at the moment. I was sleeping.” 

“She’s not with you!” The woman muttered something under her breath he could only assume were not compliments about his fiancée’s competence to follow orders. “Find her. And have her call me. Immediately.” 

“Alright, mother. I’ll let her know you –” 

Before he could finish the sentence, the call ended.  

The conscience of where he was standing and with whom and the possibility of a scandal was enough to force out of his body any sleep. A last longingly gaze focused on the woman sleeping before he cautiously sneaked out of the bedroom. This was just the beginning.

Notes:

[1] Hayatım – Turkish – term of endearment that means “my life” or “my dear or darling” in this context. 

[2] Babam and dedem – Turkish – father and grandfather. 

[3] Güzelim – Turkish – mean “my beautiful”. 

[4] Inşallah – In Turkish, the word inşallah or inşaallah means "If God wishes and grants" 

[harbingersecho]

MAKE-A-NOSSIE IS NOW LIVE !!!

Make or recreate your own Nosferatu!

Currently this maker has 5 different faces, 6 skintones, and several different, movable facial features. Also includes stuff like piercings, boils, and wounds on top of accessories like hats, masks etc. Ghoul pets probably incoming at some point too.. Pets are now here!!

! CW for blood, body horror, eye trauma, teeth etc. Basically, there are parts for walking masquerade violations so… Remember that.

You can request some stuff too if there are parts you would want added <3

(I also have a ko-fi if you wanna throw in a buck or two)

[lucalicatteart]

A few silly little small sculptures that I made with some of the leftover clay from the main one I did recently

[rapidhighway]

the thing with sonic 3 is I can't even be too mad at it. I knew that was going to happen. i love action too much. sonic and shadow had a high speed chase, shadow did the akira slide up a fucking building and then they beat each other up on the moon man. i am a weak weak man when it comes to cool as fuck action scenes and they made that movie for me, I was partly blind to everything else that was happening tbh. I actually will have to rewatch this movie to say anything coherent about it

[5-pp-man]

i love it when this happens.

[jacarandaaaas]

“Isabela and mirabel made up too quickly it didn’t make sense!!”

y’all do not know what it’s like going from screaming “I HATE U” at your sister to laughing about it 10 mins later💀

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!

[abluescarfonwaston]

If you don't think Mia recognized Dahlia in the courtroom, when did she? Because I think by 3-5 Mia knows the twins and Morgan are working together.

Did she bring down a scrap book to show Diego her family and when flipping around realize all at once and then hurry to distract him before he could see? Afraid he might think her dedication wavering for the sake of family? That he might think worse of her if her dedication didn't?

Was it in those long lonely months after Diego was gone and while Dahlia still wandered free? When she was scrolling though Dahlias photo journal online in an attempt at investigation but was really just hate scrolling? Did she see an innocuous photo of a Japanese garden taken from the gate from the spring when the light hit the flowers just right and remember standing there. Taking it in. Before the Shrine maiden, an old woman, hurried her along for the twins test of power.

Was it as they hauled Dahlia away. Did she hiss under her breath how she was just like her mother. Ruining everything. Did she curse the Feys. The people who abandoned her. Her and her sister. Doesn't she know, this is all Her fault?

And Mia knows it's not. Isn't the reason for someone else's choices. But maybe she remembers, from behind the prison glass. Two little girls packing up their bag with not very many things. One collapsing into the other. Sobbing. The other, rounding on her to scream; This is all your fault. This is all Your fault.

Or maybe it's even later. A backhanded comment from Morgan. I heard you caught that little murderer. Congratulations, Mystic Mia. You may make a fine attorney yet. (As you don't a chief, Mia hears clear as day.) What a disgraceful girl. She hears Morgan sneer as she hurries to leave. You must not grow up like them. Morgan sweetly reminds her young daughter. Listen to mother.

And when the door slides closed Mia remembers the other girls Morgan used to sweetly remind. How it ended for one of them.