#and that about wraps up everything I wanted to cover in this tutorial series

[stormbreaker101]

W101's Advanced Combat 103: Clears, Gambits, and School Synergy

Over the past few years, Wizard101 has been trying to add more variety to gameplay by introducing Advanced Combat, which focuses less on raw damage and more on hanging effects, the additional ‘things’ that can be present in battle.

In my last post on this series I introduced the theory of School Identity and the Roshambo wheel, using metaphor and the conceptual identities and themes of the schools to explain the relationships between them. This post will demonstrate how the Roshambo is used in combat, using many spell examples.

Clears

Clears allow you to remove hanging effects that benefit your opponent to get something that benefits yourself. Let's look at two examples of Ice school Clears.

This example Clear is from the Arc 2 prequest's tutorial. It can clear a Charm because Charms are representative of Storm, and Ice freezes Storm.

And this B Path Evil Snowman is able to clear Curses because Curses are representative of Death, and Ice survives Death.

Sometimes, you'll have spells that have their Clear condition after doing their damage, rather than before, such as in this example below. As a reminder, Storm can clear DoTs because DoTs are representative of Fire, and Storm douses Fire.

Gambits

Gambits are the opposite of Clears. They let you sacrifice something that benefits yourself for another thing that benefits yourself. This can be a stronger hanging effect, higher damage, or pips.

Wait, that last example seems odd. It's a Death spell, but instead of gambiting or casting a Curse (which is its representative hanging effect), it's gambiting Charms (which represents Storm) and recieving Wards (which represents Ice). What's going on here?

School Synergy

Schools are not only able to counter one another, but synergize with one another, using the hanging effects of other schools in their own spells. Specifically, schools can synergize with the other schools adjacent to them.

Death is in between Ice and Storm, and so it can synergize with those two schools. Death spells can gambit or produce curses, wards, or charms. Weaknesses, Shields, or Blades.

While the official concept of School Synergy and using it with the roshambo system is relatively new, there are some examples of older spells that display Synergy as well.

These are a pair of old Fire school spells, and they fully display all the synergies Fire has within Advanced Combat. Damage over Times (Fire itself) and Heal over Times (Life) in Link, and Jinxes (Myth) in Fuel.

In my eyes, Synergy isn't just a brand new system meant to make the schools more interconnected and able to interact with each other, but expanding upon older mechanics and lore to make it more thorough.

What About Balance?

As mentioned near the end of the last post, Balance sits within the School wheel, not countering and not countered by anything. Additionally, because Balance is in the center, it's adjacent to all the schools, and able to synergize with everything.

Thus, instead of Clearing or Gambiting anything, some B-Path Balance spells have a unique mechanic called Echo. If your opponent has a certain hanging effect active, your spell will give you the same kind of hanging effect without removing theirs.

Other Key Terms

There are some spells that don't include Gambits, Clears, or Echoes, but still lean into the roshambo and the concepts of Synergy, or just provide additional utility. As an example, often times DoTs HoTs and Bombs won't be officially gambited, but some spells will trigger a secondary effect of some kind if a DoT or Bomb is on your target, or if an HoT is on you. Most can be understood just by reading the symbols, but some use additional terms that I haven't yet covered and so I'll cover them here.

Detonate: Deal all of the damage in a single DoT or bomb

Activate: Deal all of the healing in a single HoT. A HoT detonate, essentially.

Swap: Trade one of your hanging effects with one of your opponent's hanging effects of the same time. (E.G., swap 1 of your charms with your target's charms) (Exercise for the reader: find the spell that has this effect.)

Push: Put one of your hanging effects onto your target.

[fibula-rasa]

Cosplaying Salomé (1922): A How-to

Seeing as my cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé is one of the more ambitious projects I’ve done for the blog, it seems fitting to give you all a little BTS and how-to. Because I didn’t fully document my process, this isn’t necessarily as full a tutorial as my Century of Glamour Ghouls series, but you could definitely recreate this yourself (and learn from my mistakes) as this would make a great Halloween costume!

a full-length shot of my cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé

Part one of “CtC: Nazimova as Salomé” goes into more detail on Nazimova & Rambova’s creative choices for the character and her design, but to be brief about it:

Nazimova’s Salomé is heavily informed by young women and girls of the early 1920s, so there is a dynamic conflict created between the baby-fication of young women and pop-culture sexualization of the same group. So, this first look from the film communicates unsophisticated youth with an impetuous edge. The pearled wig is not only a dazzling visual, but also emphasizes Nazimova’s brazen pantomime—amplifying every flitting gesture. It also gives the character a more childlike silhouette, which Nazimova pairs with an immature, sometimes bratty body language.

my gif of Nazimova in Salomé

The rest of the costume is quite simple: a shimmery/sparkly sleeveless, belted tunic and flat shoes. (Contrasted with Rose Dione’s costuming as Heriodas, flowing and heavily adorned.)

Get the Look!

(below the jump!)

What’s below covers the materials and methods I used, but improvements could definitely be made. I would love to see others take this on!

The Wig

My recreation of the wig in natural light

my gif of a closeup of Nazimova in the wig & gif of my cosplay wig in motion

Materials:

Black wig cap

Black yarn

Springs (I used the plastic ones sold as cat toys)

Black thread

Curved sewing needle

Rug Hook (This is a tool I already had on hand. If you have a small enough crochet hook, that might also work!)

Baubles (maybe: pearlescent paint for the baubles)

Craft glue (I don’t own a hot glue gun, but that would have been better!)

Optional: black bangs/fringe track

The Process

Note: my finished product is scaled up a bit from the wig used in the film largely because I was also working with a mix of items gifted to me from my wishlist and things I already had around the house. The springs were 1 inch in diameter as were the baubles. If you are buying everything new, you might want to try and track down .5-.75 inch materials!

Thankfully, about 10 years ago, the original wig was recovered in a trunk in Georgia, so I had a modern photo to reference for how the wig was constructed. [You can see it here!]

Some of the materials I used to create the wig

I started by wrapping the black yarn around the springs, which I had stretched out slightly. Once a spring was fully covered, I cut the yarn with roughly 3 inches extra length to fasten the spring to the wig cap.

After I had a significant amount of covered springs—I did it in waves of ~20—I used the rug hook to pull the extra yarn through the mesh of the wig cap. Then, I knotted the yarn tightly and pulled the extra yarn back to the topside of the cap using the rug hook, crossed it over the opposite side of the spring and back through the cap to knot it again on the underside of the cap. This way the spring is fastened at two opposite points of its circumference.

Once a wave of springs were loosely attached to the cap, I went in with a curved needle and black thread to sew the springs more tightly in place. This also gave the whole headpiece more stability. (This is important because the baubles will weigh the springs down a little!) I repeated this process in waves until I ran out of materials (and thankfully the cap was covered).

detail shot of the springs, the arrow is indicating the support stitching I added to the backside of each spring

At this point, my springs were a little droopy, so I reinforced them with a little bit of thread from the base to the end. This also allowed me to fine tune where each spring would sit in relation to its surrounding springs to get an even spread.

All the loose yarn inside the wig cap I roughly french braided together so it would sit flat and also add a little extra stability. It’s not a pretty sight, but it’s surprisingly comfortable!

The glass baubles I had on hand were not pearlescent, but multi-colored, so I had to paint them before gluing them to the springs. If you’re buying new, you can try and pick out the finish, size, and material you want.

That’s basically that. I adjusted two of the springs so that their baubles wouldn’t clatter into one another too much, but the wig is finished!

unfiltered cameraphone photo of the cosplay & final edit of the cosplay

I’m fairly certain that in the film Nazimova is wearing fake bangs under the pearl wig, but I just cut my own bangs bluntly and ran some gel mixed with black eyeshadow through them with a spoolie. (I don’t have any special feelings for my hair, so I tend to just cut/trim it whenever I cosplay. I understand this is unusual! You all don’t need to remind me! Thanks!)

my gif of a closeup of Nazimova as Salomé

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The Tunic

my gif of Nazimova as Salomé & my cosplay recreating the moment above

For the tunic, I chose red sequined velvet. I don’t know what the screen-used fabric was though it certainly wasn’t this! I chose this fabric as it was affordable and I thought it might give off a similar effect in the finished photos. In a happy accident, I think the sequins give off a scaled-up look that matches the wig.

I don’t think the screen costume was black, but something that photographs dark on 1920s black-and-white film stock. That’s why I chose red, though I think a deep purple would also have worked.

Since I’ve followed The Closet Historian’s 1920s One-Hour Dress Tutorial twice before, that method was my baseline for making the Salomé tunic.

Using my hip measurement as the primary guide and adding .5 inch of allowance, I folded the fabric in half and cut it into a long rectangle—the fold being where I would cut the neckline. After I cut the neckline in, I put it on and pinned and tucked the shoulders, bust, and bottom hem to where it would sit right. My body is not rectangular, so the bust/shoulders had to be brought in a bit. Very professional, I know.

Then I sewed the edges of the whole rectangle and the neckline. I only attached the front to the back on one side, from bottom hem to hip, as that appears to be how the tunic was sewn in the film. (When I wear this out as a costume, I will likely sew up both sides!)

my cosplay with the belt featured over my left hip

I used scrap fabric to sew together the belt and some velcro (repurposed from an old ribbon) and fastened it to a plastic ring (repurposed from the last new scarf I bought). I then hung some beaded necklaces that I already owned to finish it (tho it wouldn’t be a great expense to buy some cheap strings of faux pearls if you want it to look closer to what’s on screen).

The slippers weren’t a match for the film, but I already owned them and thought they fit the vibe. What Nazimova seems to be wearing in the film are some simple light/white satin-ish flats.

——— ——— ———

The Makeup

unfiltered cosplay cameraphone photo & finished cosplay photo

Since this is such a high-contrast look, I personally opted not to use contouring for this cosplay. Also, I didn’t use any kind of blush because if you are photographing in black-and-white or for B&W editing, blush and warm colors register darker than they look in color.

For the base, I mixed a lighter pigment into my foundation to achieve a mask-like quality and set it with the lightest powder I own. (I think if you are “Portland Tan” like me, you could legit use white face paint for this and it would look pretty cool!)

my gif of a closeup of Nazimova as Salomé

For the brows, Nazimova’s are rounded but elongated, so I drew mine in a slightly rounder shape than they naturally grow.

For the eyeshadow, I used the old garage-door strategy with a purple-y taupe shadow from my lashline to the browbone with a small gap between the end of that shade and the brow. As it’s done in the movie, the shadow covers the inner corner all the way out to the end of the liner wing and all the way up to the browbone.

For the eyeliner, Nazimova’s eyes are fully rimmed in black, but with a flatter shape along the bottom. I drew a line straight back from the lowest point of my lower lid, drew a line down from my upper lid to that first line, then filled in the triangle made at the outer corner. I used black eyeshadow with a wet brush to both fill in my eyebrows and draw on the eyeliner. I also tightlined my eyes, though if your eyes aren’t quite as round you might want to skip the tightline! I finished it off with a plain black mascara, false lashes are not really a necessity for this look.

For the lips, I covered the outside edges of my lips with my base makeup to get Nazimova’s pout. Then I used a dark pink lipstick and a lip brush to paint on the pouty shape (that Nazimova was born with) making sure to overemphasize the top lip. (I didn’t overline my top lip, because that looks a bit extreme on my face, but it might suit you really well!) I then went in with a slightly darker shade of lipstick at the center of my lips to further emphasize the pout.

Here are some photos from my Irena Dubrovna/Cat People cosplay tutorial that illustrate the difference tightlining makes and what lip re-shaping looks like before blending and adding lipstick:

Irena process photo showing the effect of tightlining & unblended lip re-shaping

If you’re only accustomed to 2020s makeup, keep in mind that this is a 1920s makeup look. If it looks too blended, too sharp, too smooth, it’s just not going to look authentic. (Which is perfectly fine if you’re not going for authenticity but rather a 2020s reimagining!)

——— ——— ———

Bonus: The “Backdrop”

This isn’t necessarily useful for putting together a Halloween costume, but I thought it might be a fun curiosity to share how I made my “backdrops.” Basically, I wanted a black background as the film’s terrace set has a void-like quality, so I roughly brushed black paint over black 12x9in construction paper.

natural light photos of my drawings of the gate, the moon, and the black backdrop

Using the same size construction paper, I drew the decorative metal fencing from the film with colored pencils on yellow paper and used a black felt tip marker to fill in the gaps. Likewise, I drew out the clouds and moon on construction paper in yellow, blue, and purple—as I knew how those colors would register in B&W—and cut them out. I then attached them to clear plastic to photograph them with directional lighting similar to what I used for the cosplays.

I cleaned up the drawings digitally and then composited the elements with my cosplay photos.

cosplay photos composited with the moon, the gate, and the black "backdrop"

Conclusion

Thank you all for reading, following along, and supporting my work! If you decide to use this guide or any of my previous how-tos this Halloween, please share. I’ve loved seeing your Asta Nielsen Hamlets over the past few years!

Stay Tuned for Postscript to Cosplay the Classics: Salomé and Orientalism! For now, check out Part One: The Importance of Being Peter and Part Two: Artists United?

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☕Appreciate my work? Buy me a coffee! ☕

——— ——— ———

Other Costume/Cosplay How-Tos:

Theda Bara | Pola Negri in The Wildcat (1921) | Asta Nielsen in Hamlet (1921) | Musidora in Les Vampires (1915) | Conrad Veidt in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) | Gloria Holden in Dracula’s Daughter (1936) | Simone Simon in Cat People (1942) | Vampira in Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959) | Yvonne Monlaur in Brides of Dracula (1960) | Daria Nicolodi in Deep Red (1975) | Amanda Bearse in Fright Night (1985) | Fairuza Balk in The Craft (1996) | Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve (1941) | Barbra Streisand in The Way We Were (1973)

[femmedaraya]

I wanted to start a series explaining some of the different work I did on my Talald cosplay, how it won Journeyman at ACen, and how you can use some of these techniques for your own competitive work! In this post we're breaking down how I built my boot covers. This is less of a tutorial and more of a build log with tips.

I found these ankle boots at a thrift store. They had a couple decorative straps which were easy to cut off with a craft knife. The heel's a comfortable height and an unobtrusive color, two things that provide great versatility for a wide range of boot covers in the future!

Try to keep in mind the shape of the toe when shopping for cosplay shoes. A round or pointy toe would look out of place with the curly tips l'd be adding to the top, so I made sure to pick a shoe with an almond toe.

Taping the boot! There are plenty of guides on how to do this; I got a friend's help which made it a lot easier. Personally I like doing my plastic wrap and tape a couple inches higher than I want the boot cover to go, just in case.

Fabric! Not much to this one. I made a separate pattern for the scallops at the top so they were all the exact same size and shape. These covers were made of the same neoprene as the dress, which is a pretty stretchy fabric, so that extra bit of wiggle room made it easier to translate my taped-up boot into a flat pattern.

I'm a stickler for making sure my seams lie flat. You can't iron neoprene, but since it's a double layered fabric, you can hand sew through just one layer on the inside. If you're doing something like this for a contest, MAKE SURE TO SHOW THE JUDGES! They're going to appreciate all the tiny things you do to make everything "just so."

Using a durable fabric for the bottom of your boot covers adds a lot to their longevity. This is the same cotton canvas I use to structure my corsets. I added these hot glue squiggles to give them some grip for my goofy little antics—might try using silicone caulk next time? By the way, that’s not a raw edge at the bottom of the canvas but a selvedge. Using the selvedge there makes my job just a little easier since I don’t have to hem that section.

Thanks for reading to the end! Next time I'll be talking about snaps and closures.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Harry Holland - Polaroids

A/N & WC - I do not know Harry or the other people mentioned in this fic, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.9k.

Warnings - Swearing, mention of food, smut: depictions of oral (m+f rec), penetrative sex, use of toys, bondage & bdsm, photos being taken in the act, mild exhibitionism and definite voyeurism (not Harry or reader) 18+.

Summary - You and Harry have an exciting intimate life to say the least, and he rather enjoys taking photos of the two of you in compromising positions. However, in his sex-addled mind, one vital fact is let slip when he allows Sam into his room unsupervised.

“BUD, WHERE ARE THOSE PHOTOS you took of my food the other day?” Sam asks.

The sizzling of pancakes overlaps the conversation, and you mussing up Harry’s hair distracts him, his attention drawn to more important matters than his brother. Harry barely swallows his giant mouthful of food before speaking.

“By my bed there’s a huge pile, they’ll be somewhere,” he answers flippantly.

Flippantly.

Usually so cautious and so organised Harry lets one thing slip his mind for five seconds, and his life is going to fall through the cracks. His reputation will be utterly destroyed. Just with his brother, but it still stands. Sam is… more innocent than Harry has ever been. And Sam will also tell the others, and likely their friends…

“Remembered something, baby?” you muse sardonically from beside him, your hand halting its movements as you cup his jaw, turning him to face you.

The second his green eyes meet yours, you watch the world crumble in his eyes. You’ve never seen him scramble up from his seat so quickly. His bare feet slap on the tiled floor violently, thudding sounds echoing through the house as he blunders around, swinging around the banister with the force and elegance of an elephant.

“Sam! FUCK— Wait!”

“Don’t look in that pile of photos,” you add in a feeble shout.

It’s not like what Sam’ll find there is any secret. You’ve been together a long time, you and Harry, and everyone knows full well that you’re shagging, but that doesn’t mean you necessarily want them to know exactly what happens in the bedroom, in your most intimate, secret moments together. That’s sacred, even if it seems like sacrilege to so many.

No matter how quickly you hear Harry legging it upstairs, his lean legs carrying him up the stairs perhaps three at a time, his curly hair even more unruly than before from the exertion, you know he won’t be fast enough, and that Sam is an insolent bastard when he wants to be. You’ve lived with them all long enough and have had more than your fair share of near misses: no chance will you not be found out, this time you’ll be caught. Better than the alternative and the other times, you suppose, as you cram one more syrup-drizzled and strawberry-covered pancake into your gob, reluctantly trudging your way upstairs to the hive of fun.

It’s chaos by the time you get there. Dozens of artfully-taken photos spilled out onto your duvet, Harry’s freckled face paler than you’ve ever seen it, his hands tugging at his pyjama shirt convulsively while Sam stands on the other side of the room, his dark eyes wide, his expression agog, his jaw unhinged, staring blankly and pointing at whatever the most incriminating thing is he sees next. You just hope he doesn’t go ferreting through your drawers, because then you’ll really be in trouble.

“What… the fuck.”

You come up to Harry’s side, and wrap an arm around his slim waist, lending a weak, “Surprise?”

It’s their fault if they haven’t guessed, frankly.

You can’t draw your eyes away from the pictures, so many of them, all displaying different aspects of your sex life at varying degrees of explicitness. You can even recount the minutes and hours of pleasure that led to the photos, each occasion etched into your mind. Sure, you and Harry go at it a lot, but you don’t always go the extra mile, hence why these commemorative photos of your special nights are so treasured. And private. Or, were.

The first one… oh boy, that takes you back to the most far-out, extreme experiment you tried—the most recent, as well: just this past weekend. You’re still covered in rope burn from it, though that could’ve been prevented if you hadn’t writhed or wriggled about so much while in those bonds. The amount of attempts it took, the sheer number of YouTube tutorials you had to watch, but it was definitely worth it. The intricate patterns the ropes formed all across your body, creating braids down your back, suspending you prone with little movement in your arms or legs. It was heaven to have Harry tugging on the ropes, contorting you into new and wonderful positions for his own delightful access to all of you. Perhaps it’s not something you’ll gravitate towards again, but it was fun while it lasted, and it’s another thing to tick off your list of fun, kinky bedroom experiments to try. To be fair, even though the swathes of soft, rose-coloured rope, intricately woven around you were a lot, you certainly wouldn’t be averse to trying something else with rope. Less shibari, perhaps just normal levels of bondage. You can feel the skin on your arms prickling with heat: Harry feels it too, winding his fingers into yours, holding on tight as he struggles to suppress a smirk.

The next set is interesting, and rather common. Harry’s freckled, ring-less hand is unmistakable in the dappled light as it grapples with the handle of a leather whip, or a paddle, even his belt, bringing them down harshly onto your ass cheeks, already reddened with hand prints, purple from bruises. In one of them, your skin is even glistening with his release, and another, your hands are suspended behind your back. Harry’s always been one for spanking, and the rest of them know it. Even before you were sleeping together he’d playfully smacked your bum, and he certainly hasn’t stopped even with the sexual connotations it now conveys between the two of you. As though he can read your mind, he snakes a hand down and pats you on the bum; his wink telling you it’s just for good measure. Cheeky shit.

One in the dead centre brings shivers throughout your body. Not because it wasn’t fun or pleasurable, but because of the way it made you feel afterwards. Yes, you’d talked through it in thorough details—as with everything the two of you do—how it made you feel going in, throughout, and you’d got a safe word sorted, but perhaps you hadn’t discussed all the long term risks of it. The pretty pink collar, the satin blindfold… The whole subservient thing is a big turn on for Harry, and you played into it, you always do and you naturally fall into a position of less power in your relationship because of the way you are, but being degraded in such a way isn’t for you. You can’t help but feel a sting of shame ricochet through your heart. Harry must feel it this considering how reactive he is: he leaps towards the bed and snatches it up, shredding it before your eyes, chucking it into the bin, and curling another protective arm around you.

“Look,” you whisper to Harry, turning his attention elsewhere as you point to the bottom few: your favourite photos of all.

Despite the disarray, they’re all together, and they remind you of an incredible night. Your anniversary, and what a special day it was. Butterflies swarm you at the sight of them again, but it feels strange for someone else to be looking at them. Not that you or Harry are exactly in a fit state to be proactive about preventative measures now Sam’s seen them all. His eyes bulge from his face, his mouth going dry as he swallows viciously, suddenly having to shift his already apparently tight shorts. Again.

“You’re so sexy in those, baby,” purrs Harry.

He’s damn right, you do look incredibly sexy. And though the first one in the chronological series is you mostly covered, you can remember how hard his dick was at the sight alone, salivating, clenching his fists to stop from ripping the lingerie from you piece by piece. You wanted to put on a show for him that day: who was he to deny you?

On top of your bra, panties and stockings was a nightgown, and above that, a dressing gown. Each image shows you in a further state of undress. It was a deep burgundy lace set of negligée with soft satin straps that pushed your boobs together, lifting them up, the lace hooked together with a single eyelet on your spine, whereas the panties, though half covering your cheeks with dustings of lace, hid nothing while they sat high on your hips, revealing your entire upper thigh where a matching satin garter sat with tiny lace bows. The entire thing cost a fortune. You forked out a damn arm and a leg for what you got, even with a discount included with a certain toy you bought.

First went the dressing gown, letting it fall from your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your feet as you showed off the skimpiness of the silk slip in a series of flourishing twirls, much to Harry’s delight. Next went the slip, and you honestly wish you’d taken a picture of his face utterly agog—as you stood there in stockings held up by garters, barely there panties and a push up bra. There’s one shot of his rough fingertips playing with the trim of the stockings delightedly, like a kid in a candy shop. Next went the feeble scrap of fabric that you dared to call a bra, barely covering your nipples, allowing your breasts free, spilling into Harry’s awaiting hand. You remember the next part vividly, because he was just about to peel the panties off when you laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, babe.” you cooed.

His twinkling eyes grew as wide as saucers, and you dared to card your fingers through his curls as you settled yourself over his lap, letting him keep his camera in one hand while leading the other down, down, a little further…

He’s never since made a sound quite like it, so visceral and animalistic, so ready to devour you, to come on sight. He’s never been as hard as he was in that instance.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he moaned, a deep groan released from him the second his fingers slipped through your folds to find dripping arousal all ready for him. “Just—wait a minute…”

You followed his every instruction for the next few moments, finding yourself standing up in a good lighting position, Harry strategically beneath you as he snapped a particularly incriminating (yet oh so sexy shot) of your bare pussy in crotchless panties. Harry’s never recovered. He’s already openly admitted that he uses those particular photos more than any others to get himself off whenever you’re away from him. However, the creases and folded corners of one particular photo can’t be blamed on him, since that’s the one you use when you're away, two of his fingers plunged knuckle-deep inside you in those exact panties, from that exact angle, desperately trying to replicate the irreplaceably pleasurable feeling of him within you. He took a good few more than had to be thrown away. Spillages are awfully unfortunate… He fucked you that night with the panties, stockings and garters still on. Twice. Then without the panties, then without the stockings, then nude at last at some ungodly hour of the morning when he took you at last as the sun rose. You didn’t sleep a wink.

There are more of you with lingerie on, nightgowns and matching sets, scraps of silk and strange one pieces that took you hours to get on, but they’re bound to make a sort of book, stowed away neatly (mercifully) beneath his bed.

Sam still hasn’t moved from his state of paralysed shock, and though you should probably clear the photos up from where they’re dumped, you feel a filthy swelling pride within your chest, a glean of risk as you watch Sam rove his eyes over some more, these all involving toys. If only he knew where you hid them. One his eyes focus on is you with a thick purple rubber dildo deep inside you, a rabbit vibrator stuck to your clit. Your body is but a blur, writhing around for Harry, your hands cuffed before you and not released no matter how much you moved. Harry wouldn’t let you stop coming for what felt like hours: it was the first time you squirted for him as a cry tore from your heaving chest, drenching the bed with your fifth orgasm of the night. Harry vowed he’d be the only one to make you squirt after that, no toys involved, and he’s stayed true to his word.

There’s a few more, and Sam seems to be furrowing his thick brows at the sight of the Polaroids. Glass wands, spreader bars, clit suctions (that admittedly look like they’d be used in a spa for a facial). Poor boy is being corrupted...

Good God, you need to get those toys out again.

With his twin's attention diverted, you snake your hand down the front of Baz’s shorts, wrapping your fingers around his already hard member through his boxers: he seems to be enjoying this as much as you are.

You point out one of your favourite pictures, a debauched mess that shouldn’t be viewed by anyone else, frankly. Harry was reluctant about hurting you or pushing you too far, but you begged to be gagged. You meant just by a tie, maybe his bandana—which features in many images in many different manners: as a bind for your hands, tying you to the bed, keeping your ankles together, even wrapped lightly around your neck, but never as a gag—but he went all out. When you got home, he was waiting in his room with a leather-bound ball gag.

“You begged, baby,” he said, and you couldn’t refute. You had begged, but this was above and beyond. You complied with his every wish that night, and though you’d do it again in a heartbeat, Harry wasn’t a fan of not being able to shove his fingers or cock down your throat at any given moment. He liked hearing your whines and moans and hushed curses, prayers of his name. He also liked hearing your bratty, belligerent rebuttals when he took on a dominant role. You enjoyed it more than a little, but only now can you see how much of a mess you were, messy hair and tears spouting from your eyes, drool down your chin...

Given the chance of the slightest spark of stimulation, you’ll be coming on the spot.

There’s a scattered pile of the two of you in just about every position under the sun, every shape in the karma sutra, fucking both inside and out, al fresco sex beneath the big oak in the garden, anyhow, anywhere and everywhere you could fuck safely and privately, you would, and you didn’t even realise Harry had snapped some of these shots after consenting to him taking them at any time. Your eyes squeezed shut as you peaked, Baz’s palm kneading your chest, your skirt hiked up around your stomach while your jaw was agape, your pussy exposed and glistening slick in the mirror, penetrated by Harry’s cock. That was a good day, mirror sex, and definitely something you’ll try again. This time with your own mirror... There are a few snapshots of oral, perfect Polaroids of Harry’s nose nuzzled into your pussy, his tongue deep in your core, his lips on your labia, all of them for your sake whenever he goes away.

“Gonna recreate that one tonight,” Harry husks, pointing towards one image in particular of you sucking him off.

His huge member down your throat, you’d trained yourself to breathe solely through your nose, but the neatly trimmed patch of hair there tickled your nostrils. Harry’s talent for photography reveals your doe eyes were red rimmed, saliva trickling from the corner of your mouth matching the mascara tracks down your cheeks. You’ve never looked so fucked out, and Harry couldn’t believe you remained in that innocent façade, rosy cheeks and a coy expression even with his dick rammed down your throat, making you gag.

However, the one you’d like to recreate is one he picks up on, surreptitiously moving a hand to your chest, his fingers hovering over your peaked nipple.

“Reckon we can go again the second Sam fucks off?”

“Yes,” he eagerly exhales.

You don’t blame him, especially not when both twins are staring at the same image of your tits, pushed together with Harry’s dick between them, fucking your chest despite the fact his come already painted your chest in hot white strips, a beautiful painting you’d always wish to frame. He certainly has an obsession with your boobs so there are a couple like that, his hands all over them, the tip of his member tapping them, but the debauched one is by far your favourite. Similarly, there’s one of you tied to the bed, completely spread eagle, his dick resting on your stomach while your belly is coated in his come once again.

It seems, however, that’s what snagged Sam’s attention and has his face a ghastly shade of grey because it's so pale, is the one photo Harry never wanted anyone to see. You leap and snatch it up in one fell swoop, and Harry draws you into a bear hug within his arms, kissing your temple affectionately in thanks as you stow it away for safekeeping. Though Harry naturally carries the more dominant title in your relationship, you always like to shake things up, hence why this photo (and a series of others he already has hidden) depict Harry as your submissive. You walked around as the picture perfect dominatrix in stilettos, carrying a whip while Harry lay there with his hands bound, a blindfold on in some photos (you took them so they’re not as great, but he still looks damn sexy) with a vibrating cock ring wrapped snugly around his girth. He’s never come so hard or so much after you finally removed it and cuffed his hands to the bedpost and began to ride him. You can still feel the warmth of him climaxing within you if you close your eyes and clench your thighs.

“I promise I’ll touch you later,” boy do you hope he sticks to that promise he whispers while nibbling on your earlobe, “but Sam’s coming out of his daze in 3... 2... 1...”

“OH MY GOD.”

“Okay, I didn’t see that coming,” he remarks breathily, hazel eyes wide as he pivots, met with two incredulous stares. Tom’s cry wakes Sam up right on cue.

“Harry! What the fuck?!” Sam demands, his voice a bellow, horror and disgust and... something unattainable just emanates from him. “Why do you have three porn mags worth of your girlfriend down here? That’s fucked, mate.”

“No it’s not. We just like to have photographic reminders of all our... sexcapades.”

Sam is, unsurprisingly, retching, now finally turning his head away from the pile without even bothering to pick up.

“This was cool until you called them sexcapades,” Tom chimes, smacking Harry upside the head as he swaggers over to the bed, fishing a few photos up before tossing them back down.

Sam's horrified attitude doesn’t seem to be spreading thankfully, but you and Harry are understandably rooted to the spot, stuck to the carpet, just biding your time until this is over. Then again, you can’t really tell, since no one is saying anything. You nor Harry want to be the ones to break the silence, though, and you can tell with the furtive and expressive stares you’re sharing that his anxiety is increasing the more people are seeing this.

Momentarily, you think someone may remark about your silent communication, your fixed glances and speechless conversation, but instead, Harrison comes up to you both, a sly smirk etched onto his pretty model face as he clasps a hand around one shoulder of yours and one of Harry’s.

“Harry Holland, you kinky fucker,” he praises.

You definitely feel a swell of pride at that. And the fact that Tom is trying desperately hard not to look at you while also trying to hide how flustered he is, somehow still abhorred by the sight. Harrison’s intrigue is palpable, gnawing on his lower lip as his lithe fingers trace you on the polaroid's, whereas Sam? He can’t decide whether to cry or scream. Harry huddles in closer and cuddles you, ensuring you feel every part of him, just how much he wants this lot to leave to finally have you at his mercy once more.

“So you two are shagging,” Tom observes.

You and Harry nod between kisses.

“Dangerously.”

You nod again, though this time a little reluctantly.

You expect Harry to nestle down with you again, but instead he detaches himself, unravelling his arms, and shoulders past Tom and Haz. He gives Sam a death glare as he piles up all the Polaroids and shoves them deep in a drawer for him to organise later, away from prying eyes and judgemental comments.

“Really, though?” Sam bursts out, flailing his arms before grasping Harry’s collar. “I thought you’d just handcuff her and give her a smack at most, very vanilla.”

As much as he tries to fight it, Harry’s face flushes bright red, leaving no visible distinction between his forehead and hairline. “I think those photos, erm, tell a different story.”

He rocks on the balls of his feet, tugging himself out of his brother's grasp, only to fall into another, saved by Harrison’s scowl at Tom.

“Can you lot bloody get out? Please? I’d like some alone time with my girlfriend after that sodding invasion.”

“If you’re having alone time, we’re leaving the house for a while,” Tom jokes, “how long?”

You smirk, striding over to meet Harry, eyes fixed on him as you press onto your tiptoes, wrapping your fingers around his shoulder before kissing his earlobe. He wilts into your touch.

“Two hours should be enough time. Scram.”

They do, gladly, and you slam the door shut as their scurrying footsteps down the stairs recede. Harry’s grip increases around your waist, a growl escaping him as he pushes you onto the bed. You gasp when your back hits the mattress, his lips instantly attacking your jaw.

“Which of those polaroid's do you wanna recreate first, baby?”

—

It’s hours later, and you're all around for your weekly dinner at the Holland house. You and Harry, having some ‘business’ to attend to before leaving the house, are the last to arrive, and Paddy, poor unfortunate Paddy, has the delightful job of letting you into the house.

“Sam asked me to give you this,” he says barely before you’ve entered the porch.

Harry’s face pales as he unravels the small piece of paper bundled into his hand by his younger brother, but you could swear all blood drains from him the second the words sink in.

‘You took them, you lost them, you collect them. What would mum and dad say, Harold?’

“Harry, what’s happening?”

“That utter wanker stole the polaroids as revenge for scarring him. He’s hidden them around the house. We have to find them before mum and dad go looking. You in for the ride?”

“Only if Haz can join us tonight,” you tease, and after calling a hello to Harry’s parents, you follow him around the house, detaching all the pinned photos.

Harry's learnt a solid lesson today: hide his damn Polaroids better from now on, away from the prying eyes of his bloody brothers. But, he thinks with a smirk, by no means will the two of you stop taking them.

[stylesberries]

Rainbow Cardigan

Summary: Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)

Genre(s): fluff, a sexual innuendo

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): mentions of sexual intercourse.

Harry’s sense of style is one of the main things that make people around automatically drowns to him. High waisted flares, custom Gucci suits and newsboy caps - Harry in a nutshell.

His style is so distinctive, that even if his face and tattoos were covered, people around would still recognize him just by looking at his outfit.

You, of course, are one of the many fans of Harry’s style. Being his girlfriend had its benefits. Getting to steal his clothes was, obviously, on top of the list.

“Sweetheart!” Harry calls out for you from the bedroom.

You got up from your place in the living room, following your boyfriend’s voice. You knew that if he just wanted to tell you something, he would’ve texted. He clearly needs you to come up to him, so that’s exactly what you do.

Going up the stairs, you kept thinking about who could be the killer in the new detective series episode you’ve been watching.

When you reached your bedroom, your eyes trailed right to your worrying boyfriend, who was walking in circles around the room with his brows furrowed and in deep thought.

“Love, is everything okay? You seem upset.” You gently started.

He really looked frustrated, and you had no idea what was the reason behind it. He would always take every hardship light-heartedly, knowing that everything can be solved and everything can be fixed, and if that’s not the case, he would say, “Well, that’s what life’s about, isn’t it? It can’t always be easy. That’s the beauty of it.” Your mind started walking in circles just like your distraught boyfriend, thinking about anything that could’ve caused him to react this way.

“Y/N, I think I lost m’rainbow cardigan.”

Then it hit you. He really loved that cardigan. It wasn’t just adorable, warm and cozy. He wore it for your first date, and being someone who imbues everything with meaning and gets emotionally attached to things, his reaction wasn’t surprising to you.

“My dear, I’m sure we will find it. Come on. I’ll help you lo-”He cut you off full of sadness and frustration.

“I’ve already looked everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I’ve looked in every room, on every shelf. I looked under every couch, just in case. I even checked the stove. Like, come on, it could never be there, but I still looked! I don’t know what t’do. I always take it along wherever I go. If I am here and it’s not - I lost it. I fucking lost it. Y/N, what do I do? Where else could I look?” He was full-on bawling now. You couldn’t help but cut the distance separating you short and hug him.

“Don’t worry, Har. We will find it. I know how much it means to you. We’ll find it.” You kept repeating it. Although, your voice was muffled by his hair, he caught every word leaving your mouth.

“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.

“When did you last see it, baby? Do you remember?” You carefully asked, trying your best not to push him even more. Judging by his appearance, you knew that he could easily beat himself up for losing the cardigan to a point of having an anxiety attack, and that was the last thing you wanted right now.

You watched him slowly breathe air in and out, trying to slow his heart rate down.

“I haven’t seen it for over a week. The last time I’ve seen it was at the studio, I think. I put it on t’go there. It was cold that day.” He explained.

You remembered exactly what day he was talking about. He went to the studio early and you missed him a lot, so when he came back home you jumped on him, which later on led to a heated make out session. The thing was that you didn’t remember taking the cardigan off of him that day.

“Har.” You tried to be as gentle as you possibly could, but you knew that there wasn’t anything that could make him feel better about losing something so dear to him.

“Yeah?” He took a step back and looked at your saddened face.

“I’m afraid you came home without the cardigan.”

After having your crying-your-eyes-out-because-of-a-piece-of-clothing session, you were determined to find the cardigan. Knowing that Harry just went to the studio and back that day, you did the same. Harry asked everyone working at the studio if they’ve seen the cardigan, and with every new person your hope withered more and more. As you asked more people and tried to track the cardigan down, you realized that it was probably lost on a bench he sat on by the studio, to drink his morning coffee. That meant that you’ll never see it again. Understanding the hopelessness of the situation, Harry gave up looking.

Seeing your Harry walking around the house completely destroyed by the situation, you couldn’t help, but think about a way to make him feel better.

He would skip his morning runs to sulk in the bed, cuddled up in the blankets with his feet tangled with yours. Harry was never one to skip any part of his daily routine, so you understood how attached he was to the lost cardigan.

One night, after you both finished your dinner and went to watch some rom-com in the living room, your grandmother called. You apologized to Harry and answered the call.

As you gave her an update on your life these days, Harry cuddled closed into your side and let his eyes close.

Your grandmother asked you about everything, starting from what you had for breakfast to how your university project was going.

In couple of minutes Harry started lightly snoring into your ear. Next thing you know she’s telling you about the new blanket that she knitted.

Then an idea came to your mind. You’ll knit him a new cardigan.

Next day was spent shopping for yarn and needles and watching knitting tutorials. The fact that Harry was out in the studio made it even easier for you to bring your ideas to life.

In the beginning you found it a little hard, but with a little motivation you knitted a couple of colorful squares, just like the ones in Harry’s precious cardigan.

The image of the cardigan mostly came from your head, but whenever you needed a reference you could type “Harry Styles Rainbow Cardigan” into Google and freshen the memories.

It took you some time to get the cardigan together, knitting every little square with the other, making sure everything is as neat as possible.

You felt bad for lying to your sweetheart, but you had to admit - it was fun running around hiding your surprise from him.

When the cardigan was ready, you took a look at your creation.

Although, it wasn’t the same as the one you both had so many memories with, it was made with love, coming straight from your heart.

You finished the last touches at about 7 o’clock, and Harry was supposed to come home a bit later today due to a meeting with the management. You waited for him until late evening and found a box to put your little creation into.

After folding the wrapping paper around the box and tying a bow from the ends of the yellow ribbon, that was now wrapped around the sides of the box, you laid down in your bed and picked up an unread book to finally finish it.

In an hour or so your exhausted boyfriend stepped into the house. You could head his steps coming from outside of the bedroom. By the time he came back home, the book found its way back on the side table, as you wrapped the blanket around yourself to mimic the warmth of missing Harry.

Harry walked into the room slowly, making sure he doesn’t step on certain creaking planks in the floor, not to wake you up. He carefully undressed himself and folded the corner of the blanket to get under it. As he carefully positioned himself next to you, you turned around, making sure not to take him by surprise and scare the living shit out of him.

“You’re so late, love. Did something happen?” You asked, hoping that everything was okay with the upcoming tour. Your mind didn’t view anything else as a possibility because you trusted him completely. You knew you had nothing to worry about, as he proved his loyalty to you enough for you not to have any doubts about it.

“Jeff kept me a bit late, m’precious. We were going through the tour schedule. I’m sorry I made y’worry, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a kiss on your temple. You let him shower you with more and more kisses, before you remembered the box you hid in the closet. You eyes abruptly opened and Harry caught the look of realization on your face.

“What happened, bean? Not in the mood?” He made sure to ask you.

You got up from the bed, pushing his hands off of you, and walked right to the closet.

“Baby? Is everything alright?” Harry was confused over the way you were acting.

You left his questions unanswered and grabbed the box, after opening the doors of the closet looking for it. You walked back up to the bed, but now from Harry’s side. He seemed completely oblivious of what was coming next and, obviously, awaited for an explanation.

“It’s a present. For you.” You now let yourself smile at him, after putting on a show to freak him out. You let out a laugh after seeing Harry look insulted by the way you played with his feelings.

“You’re a meanie. That’s not cute. Was gonna make love to you just now, but I am no longer going to do so.” Harry ended the dramatically long sentence with a theatrical frown.

Despite the little show he put on for you, he couldn’t help but keep looking at the box, laying in front of him.

“What’s that?” He curiously asked.

“Open and see for yourself.” You moved closer to him, with only the box separating you.

Harry carefully unwrapped the bow, making sure he doesn’t rip the paper you carefully wrapped. Something so small, almost unnoticeable, but another thing you loved about this man. There was love in every little gesture and move of his. He could’ve just torn the paper and the ribbon off, acting on his curiosity, but he didn’t. He knew you took time to make it look pretty for him, and he wouldn’t ruin your creation, even if it’s just wrapping paper.

When Harry got to opening the box, he looked up at you, as if asking for your permission. You nodded, smile grazing your face.

As the lid came off the box and the bright colors of the carefully knitted cardigan started gleaming from the light, coming from the lamp on the bedside table, Harry’s facial expression turned from curiosity to utter shock. Noticing his surprise, you chose to speak up.

“I made it myself. I knew how heartbroken you were after losing that cardigan, so I thought - maybe I could knit it for you. I know it’s not perfect, but it would make me very happy if you kept it.” You nervously blabbered, thinking that he didn’t seem as happy as you thought he would be.

“You knitted it yourself?” He looked up at you in shock with tearful eyes, as his hands finally let themself touch the buttons of the item.

“I did. I watched tutorials on YouTube. Thanks to those, I learned how to knit.” You joked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

“You learned how to knit to make this for me?” His voice turned raspy, as it always did when he got emotional and he looked like he desperately needed a hug.

So that’s what you gave him.

“Come here, my love. Please don’t cry. I didn’t knit it to make you sad. I wanted to make you happy.” You cooed into his ear.

Harry held onto you with such need and desperation, that you haven’t seen him show before. He squeezed you closer, his hands still keeping hold of the knitted piece.

“You made me so happy. You make me so fucking happy.”

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties - here is part 6! We are officially halfway through this fic! Part 6 sees friendships blossom, situationships struggle, and cheeky intercontinental facetime chats! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as i am! I love hearing from you after you've read it! Love always, Steph xx

Part 6 | parte sesta

warnings; a couple of tugs on the heartstrings (in both the best and worst ways)

word count; 2301

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 06/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Amelia had been back in Turin for a week or so, settling back into her city apartment had been more difficult than she anticipated as she was now alone for the first time in more than 2.5 months. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes she did miss the companionship of having a boyfriend. She missed someone to have breakfast with, to watch movies under the covers, to bring to official events. She still did all of these things, with a date, that was a friend, that sometimes maybe crept beyond the friendship zone and into the we shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good zone.

Fede was someone that hung around Amelia like a fly to sugar. She enjoyed the attention most of the time. She appreciated his friendship, wisdom, talent and intellect. He could hold a conversation, talk to her about the arts, sell her the dream. She even didn’t mind it when they did cross that line a few times. Long afternoons and even longer nights spent wrapped up together in his bed sheets, her bathtub, his kitchen, her lounge room...you get the point. It was almost as though the two were in a committed relationship - committed being the operable word.

Fede wanted Amelia all to himself, and she was just that - available to him and for him whenever he wished, which was often. That’s what confused Amelia most, he didn’t want to label their situationship. He was happy to be ‘friends’ outside the four walls of their respective homes, but lovers when the curtains were drawn. She would maybe understand if he was elusive, always going out and on his phone but he wasn’t. He spent all of his time with her, there wouldn't have been enough hours left in the day if he separated those he spent with her from those he spent alone.

The Juventus players noticed this behaviour early on, seeing a noticeable difference in the way their number 33 paid attention to their tactical sessions. How he was turning up to the training centre early, with an extra piccolo for the english member of their coaching staff. Federico claimed he was helping Amelia brush up on her Italian, but having an Italian-born mother who insisted on sharing her culture with her kids, meant she was pretty much fluent in the language before arriving in Turin. His teammates weren’t stupid and neither was she.

This was the one area of her life where Amelia felt comfortable to go with the flow, she didn’t need to prepare or overthink anything to do with the charming Italian boy from Firenze. She let him take it at his own pace, she was in no need to rush. She let him take her home to meet his Nonna, she spent quality alone time with his dogs when he’s running late from training, and that’s a rare occasion being that it’s normally her there after him and he hangs back to drive them both home.

Everything was progressing at his pace, and the moment Amelia just asks for some clarification on the situation, he would get visibly stressed. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And for a long time he could, he had Amelia's attention and affection at Juve, he even had it during their european campaign. At the end of the tournament, when they all broke up for their summer breaks, Fede conveniently waited until their final round in the shower, if you know what i mean, before pulling her into bed and having a heart to heart with her.

Amelia thought that she was finally getting the clarification that she was after, which in a way she did. Fede spoke whimsical words about how she makes him feel wanted and understood, and in turn he told her about the affects he knew he had on her. It was a conversation that would turn Shakespeare to a pile of rose petals. In the end, he told her that he wanted to continue what they had just how they had been doing it. And so, that's exactly how they left it. No labels. Friends outside of the four walls of their apartments. That was all Amelia needed to be able to enjoy her family holiday in Mykonos, guilt free, not missing the man that became the equivalent of her shadow.

The constant company she had in Mykonos compared to what she was experiencing in Turin made her more eager to return to work than she had previously. Of course, there are group chats and facetimes and phone calls throughout the days that kept her occupied, but she was missing the boys and her brother. Her friendship with Kyle was back to its old ways, memes being shared across the european continent, long phone calls to talk about their problems. Kyle knew all about the Fede x Amelia situation, Amelia having given him the sparknotes version over a wine filled zoom session one evening that same week. Their pre-seasons hadn’t gone back yet so they were able to indulge in a bit of vino, guilt free.

She was surprised about the constant contact, or lack thereof, that some of the boys had maintained with her. Ben Chilwell hadn’t once messaged or instagrammed the girl, despite being active in their group chats and liking her holiday pictures on instagram. He even made the rookie error of liking a picture so far down on her instagram, there was no way to explain his need for being there. She messaged him a couple times, assuming he just got busy with whatever he was doing, but there was radio silence on the other end.

A friendship she was surprised had blossomed so well, considering their flirtatious start to life, was with that of Jack Grealish and Tyrone Mings. There had been more facetimes than she could count between herself and the two villa boys. Whether it was Tyrone telling her about a book he had finished that he thought she would enjoy, or Jack asking her how to cook dinner, maybe even them both cooking dinner together - of course she had to have a later dinner to be able to do so, with the time difference and all...and there was no way Jack was going to be having dinner an hour early “athlete’s schedule an all tha ya’know” he would smirk down the camera, brummie accent on full display.

She met Tyrone through Jack, he facetimed the girl for outfit advice one night before going out with the tall defender and the pair hit it off. Both giving Jack the fashion advice he needed but didn’t want to hear (a Gucci two piece tracksuit set is never the answer). Tyrone immediately noticed a certain attention to detail being applied by his fellow number 10, to the tactics that were being put forward by the girl that was far too good at her job. His training was improving, his set pieces having a certain amount of flare. There was also a lack of attention being paid from Jack to other girls. Instead, much preferring to spend the evening at home watching the same netflix series as Amelia so that he could discuss it with her the next day, or better yet, at the same time.

As pre-season had commenced, Amelia had been applying the same tactics that she developed (and that obviously worked) throughout the European campaign to her Juventus club level. Having faith in the four men that were with her and the Azzurri to ensure that their other teammates were completing them accurately. It appears that her skill was widely recognised, having a few missed calls and voice messages left from English telephone numbers that she was yet to listen to. In all seriousness, she was nervous to listen to them. Worried that they would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. A wise person once told her that you shouldn’t make any decisions whilst you're at the top of your happy, or the bottom of your sad. You should make important decisions when your life is at its constant. It's very easy to accept things that you wouldn’t normally when you're at the peak of your mood, just as easy as it is to forget the bigger picture when you're down. Who knew Kyle Walker was so wise.

“So, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma” She spoke down to her facetime camera one evening in early August.

“Hit me with it darlin’” Jack spoke back to her, getting his dinner utensils out so that they could cook together again. He didn’t like not being prepared for her tutorial, he got stressed if she added pepper and his pepper was still in his pantry. Each afternoon, when it was agreed upon what they would be cooking together that evening, she sent him a list of what he would need out on his bench to complete the meal.

“I’ve missed a few calls from English teleco numbers this last week or so”

“Ok? Do you think they’re scams? You’re beautiful Amelia but I don't think it's actually an Egyptian prince on the other end that wants to offer you 250k in exchange for your paypal info…”

“Ha ha very funny - that was one time ok and he wasn’t a Prince, he was claiming to be an investment banker and wanted to help me start up my portfolio-ANYWAY JACK I WAS 16! God just forget I even told you that story” Amelia barked down facetime, now pausing what she was doing to point at the British boy with her wooden spoon, the same way her mother would to her when she was being cheeky. All she was met with was boisterous laughter.

“Nah i’m only joking, continue with your story.”

“I began to listen to the start of one and it was a talent acquisition manager for one of the premier league clubs, offering me a job” Amelia said as she continued to stir her pasta. Tonight they were making penne arrabiata. She received no reply from the boy. Looking down to her camera to check the call was still active, she saw him looking at the camera with a serious expression.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is before I start to get excited that you’re going to be living within driving distance from me? Oh god i’ve just realised - was it from Villa? You could be even closer than I imagined” Jack started to ramble, getting over excited with the prospect of being so close to the girl that he could physically hang out with her, instead of virtually.

“Jack calm down, I didn't listen long enough to find out what club he was from. I have 5 more just like it waiting in my inbox.”

“What's the problem then Mils?” Jack could see the girl had apprehension written all over her face.

“I’m just nervous that they're going to tell me everything I've always wanted to hear. That they’re going to make me an offer I can't refuse and I have to leave my life here.” Their pasta was ready to be dished up now, so the girl poured herself a glass of red wine and got herself comfy on her couch.

“Come on, play the messages and i’ll listen to them with you, be your voice of reason,” Jack offered the girl.

“I should probably call Tyrone, you’re just going to reject every club that isn’t Villa.” she laughed before switching facetime to her laptop, moving to the floor of her lounge room and resting her elbows on her coffee table. With the phone near the screen of her mac, she began to play the messages.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hi Amelia, Shaun here from Newcastle United-” “As if you’d waste your talents at Newcastle”

“Jack! That's horrible! At least i know i already look good in the black and white striped kit”

“No, not happening. Next”

“Amelia, Hope you don’t mind but I got your number off of one of my players who knows you. Long story short, we have a position here are Arsenal” “Bloody Bukayo, needs to keep his silky mitts off ya”

“Jack, give it a rest or i’m calling Tyrone”

“Amelia White, Greg here from Aston Villa Football Club” “Get in Greggles!! That's it, stop listening, you’re taking this one”

“I need to listen to them all Jack”

“So, you’ll consider Villa?”

“I’ll consider all of them”

“You’d really go to Arsenal? Aren’t you a Spurs supporter? Shocking stuff”

“Ok maybe not all of them”

“Ciao Amelia, Mario here from Chelsea Football Club - I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We could really use you here at Chelsea next season. Give me a call when you get a spare moment to discuss the opportunity”

“What? Nothing to say to this one, Jack?”

“Nah, sounds ok. You deserve to showcase your skills at a big club like Chelsea. And besides, you’ll have Jorginho there to look after you. Come on, next one”

“It’s the last one actually”

“Amelia, we’ve got a fantastic opportunity here at Manchester City for someone with your skill set. It would be a massive advantage to have your tactical insight to the game coupled alongside the fantastic leadership we’ve already got at the club”. “Holy shit, Pep called you himself? Kyle Walker really knows how to pull strings when he wants something”

“I am overwhelmed”

“Hey, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. Sleep on it, talk it over with your family. Speak to Jorgi, I know you’re close with him. And just let me know when you decide to pick Villa so i can start house huntin’ for ya”

“Night Jack, speak soon”

“Sleep tight darlin’, speak to ya tomorrow”

Part 7. | settima parte

[yurimother]

Interview: Shilin Huang, Creator of Amongst Us and Carciphona

Shilin Huang ( @okolnir​​ )is a Canadian freelance artist and comic creator, known for her long-running series Carciphona. She has a Bachelor of Music in Performance from the University of Western Ontario. Carciphona is a long-form fantasy story set in a world where demon-magic is forbidden. The series follows a young sorceress named Veloce, and the mythical assassin assigned to kill her, Blackbird.

Shilin’s newest book, Amongst Us, based on the webcomic of the same name, is an alternate universe comic that reimagines Veloce and Blackbird as musicians and girlfriends in the modern world. You can support the physical release for Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today.

The first book of Amongst Us is coming soon. How do you feel about the release?

Eager and relieved!! I had worked for so long to make the web format viable for print format, as well doing all the extra drawings that were necessary--like covers--that I had to keep under wraps, it felt great to know that that part is finally done and I can release my child into the wild. I was very worried too before the launch of the Kickstarter, because though I am the one who made this story, I am not quite a slice-of-life type of person myself, and it was hard for me to see value in this mundane, not-plot-driven kind of story as a printed book. But I was very lucky to have that worry dispelled!

What drew you towards creating comics and artwork? Was it a dream of yours?

I’ve been drawing since before elementary school because I enjoyed it, and somewhere along the way, I wanted to create my own characters, and then I wanted stories for them. It was always just me doing what I felt like doing, more so than something that I aspired towards achieving consciously. If I had to analyze the allure myself, maybe it was because people and the world are so interesting, I’ve always loved thinking about their nature and circumstances, and art/storytelling was the best way for me to explore and share those thoughts.

Could you briefly walk us through your creative process for making a page of Carciphona or an episode of Amongst Us?

Carciphona is a long, plot-driven story, and so the scale of preparation required before the page eclipses the actual drawing of the page itself. [A] small moment has some larger impact in the plot, character development, and accuracy of world-building. So I usually spend about half a year or more writing out an entire volume, read it over many times over the course of the years, before I do the same thing with sketching the entire volume on the computer, rearranging pages and panels and entire scenes for best delivery, before I finally commit to drawing out each page in detail on the computer. 

Where Carciphona is like an elaborate set course where I chop up and measure ingredients and time their cooking with a careful game plan so everything can be served as they should, Amongst Us is more like an omelette that I’m making to taste. There is still planning and writing ahead of time, but each episode is much more self-contained, and I do more of the planning of the episode within the episode itself, adding and taking away details as I see fit before I feel like it reads naturally enough for me to fine line, colour, and paint.

You talk about being a self-taught artist, how did you learn to create artwork? What are some of your favorite educational resources?

While I did come across many tutorials, they were mostly short ones here and there made by my peers, so I don’t have any favourites in my mind that I can share ): . I learned by just looking at the art of my peers at the time and drawing a lot myself, thinking about what I could learn from each time I see something great, and what I could try next time to make the next drawing look better to me. When I had just started drawing digitally, the internet was quite new, drawing tablets expensive and uncommon, with no social media to share art or find resources. Over time, I did try to learn more properly by doing studies and seeking out professional tutorials, but I found that I hated it and decided that I’d rather learn and make mistakes at my own pace and be happy than to commit to effective and efficient learning and make myself dislike drawing.

Amongst Us is, of course, an Alternate Universe comic featuring characters from Carciphona. What inspired you to put your characters into a GL slice of life work?

Back in 2006, when I started drawing Carciphona, I had no plans of this frenemies dynamic for the two main characters, Blackbird and Veloce, and when the thought had occurred to me as I continue to tweak the story, canon GL relationships were still rare and rarely accepted. I was even told on many occasions by readers that they hope the two do not end up with some couples dynamic, or they will no longer be interested in the story. Ultimately, Carciphona was a fantasy story about an entire world, and I wasn’t going to risk the story’s reception over a small detail like whether or not Blackbird and Veloce sleep together, so I just played with the ideas of their relationship on the side, in paintings of many different AUs. Eventually, all that did was make me become so attached to the idea that I decided to say, screw it, I need someplace where they could be together, and I’m drawing an AU for real.

Where do you draw inspiration from for your work? Both Amongst Us and Carciphona.

I love a lot of things, feelings, aesthetics, and I eat up all of that and take it back out in the form of my stories. The inspiration is everywhere, from beautiful imagery I witness in pictures and in real life, to [the] lives of people that I hear about or experience firsthand, to the ethics and structures of professions from mechanics to medicine… In feelings, knowledge, and perspective, there’s an infinite amount of things that makes me think, and that thinking is what creates AU and Carciphona, whether or not that line of inspiration can be clearly drawn back to the root of the thought.

What are some of your biggest challenges or fears creating Amongst Us? Was there any realization or advice that helped you overcome those difficulties?

My biggest fear is always in relatability because it’s a difference between me and the reader that I do not and cannot have a solution for because it involves another person. In such a relatable genre as slice of life/comedy/romance, where the readers have more experience and therefore more varied but stronger expectations of a version of life that is relatable to them, I know that even if somehow I become a master writer, I still would not be able [to] say whether I could story that others would get or would be interested in, especially because I am aware I am an oddball when it comes to how I think, how I live, and what I value. What helped me the most was simply seeing that there were readers who did enjoy the stories for what it was, and reminding myself that I’m telling the stories to find those who might enjoy it, not to avoid those who might not. It’s a different perspective, rather than a solution, so the worry constantly resurfaces, but I hope it becomes easier over time as I am proven wrong more often!

Amongst Us readers have gotten to see Veloce and Blackbird as an established couple, and now we are witnessing flashbacks to how they first met. Where do you hope to take the series in the future?

I intend to tell both of these timelines concurrently, so as the couple timeline ended at episode 20, I intend to end the flashback at around episode 40, and then switch again at episode 60, and so on. While this kills the momentum for each arc, I made AU so that I can have the cake and eat it too--I want both their back story and a happy ending at the same time without having to wait 10-20 years for it, like I do with Carciphona’s plot haha!

What is one dream or aspiration you would like to accomplish? Even if it is unrealistic.

My only dream right now is just to finish both Carciphona and AU before my time’s up! Funny how unrealistic is specified, it made me realize that I rarely consider unrealistic dreams/aspirations as worth thinking about as they are unlikely to happen when there are so many other things I want to do that are actually possible. Most of my unrealistic dreams actually revolve around music, a profession I had left behind with an aching heart. I dream to play a concerto with an orchestra someday, or even learn to conduct, but for now, drawing my dreams out feels enjoyable and fulfilling enough a compromise!

What advice do you have for people wanting to create artwork and comics?

The true challenge these days I feel like is rarely in the work itself; there are so many readily available free resources that anyone who is capable of working hard and thinking critically will sooner or later be able to master skills they acquire to some degree. What is truly challenging is finding, and then accepting, what paths work for you. Someone might find great joy in working in a studio with a group on something big, while someone else might only enjoy drawing what they feel. Both, in this current climate, will be compelled to adhere to the standards of drawing what others want to see in order to gain recognition and financial stability, one will thrive, one will not. 

I think the most important thing to keep in mind is understanding what you want out of drawing/creating, and why. Understanding yourself is often not as straight-forward as it may seem, everyone has different circumstances that subtly motivates them to sometimes misdirect energy and misinterpret what it is they truly want. Some people need to be understood, some people want an excuse to execute, and some people want fame, money, recognition, validation. Whatever it is, and all valid, understanding and accepting your own motivations to create can tremendously help you find the path forward that is suitable for you, not anyone else, even if it might mean following an impractical path that no one else recommends.

Finally, after the release of the first Amongst Us book, what is next for you? Anything special your fans can look forward to?

My game plan through the decades has always been to just keep going. I did choose long-form projects such as the comics that I draw, and the best thing I can do is to just keep it up and reach those exciting points of the story that I’ve always worked towards, no matter how uneventful that may make my work routine sound. However, I do have a little side thing with a(nother) recurring theme that I’ve been doing here and there for fun whenever I had time, people who keep up with my social media art posts may have noticed. If I ever accumulate enough material, maybe there will be some bonus snacks for my readers on the horizon!

Read Carciphona and Amongst Us online now and be sure to support the physical release on Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today. Also, be sure to follow Shilin on Twitter @Okolnir.

[kimnjss]

get even | ksj

⤑  series: sugar free

⤑ genre: angst, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 4.4K

⤑ warnings: humilation (it’s not a kink here tho), suggestive topics, nudity... (this lowkey pretty tame, ngl).

⤑ A/N: a little late, but i literally just finished this and did like a half ass job editing it, buuut i really wanted to get this out bc OHMYGOD (you’ll see) - don’t forget to let me know what you think, your feedback is my favorite! x

A bet. The second the words left Yuna's lips you felt your blood begin to boil. Was that what all of this was? Why Jin had been so persistent to be around you, to get you to like him... so he could win a measly 100 bucks from his friends. That was it?

 You felt sick to the stomach, on the verge of screaming at the top of your lung. How could you allow yourself to be so stupid? To not be able to see past the cheap facade, protect yourself like you had done countless times before. To think you were slowly starting to melt, starting to see yourself becoming comfortable around him. Smiling a bit too wide when texting him into the late hours of the night, moving a little too fast when his name was lighting up your screen.

 He had been playing you for a fool this entire time and the only thing you could think of was how could you get even. At this point, he had no idea that you were on to him. Still thought that everything was going according to his plan, boy was he wrong. You were going to get him back, flip the tables so he was the one left licking his wounds. Who the hell did he think he was?

 The idea came to you a few hours after hanging up with Yuna. The anger that had blinded you earlier finally subsiding enough for you to properly check the messages that had been flooding your inbox in the time since. Most of which were from the group chat of your best friends. Making a mental note to tell Yoongi about his role in this bet as well, you immediately clicked on the latest message from Jin.

[15:59] seokjin: did you pick a movie for tonight, yet?? i saw something you might like.

 Instantly you're scoffing at the reminder that you were supposed to be out with this man in a little over an hour. You had actually been looking forward to this date, a more relaxed setting where you two could truly be yourselves around each other. The hell with that now. 

 Quickly, you were typing back your response. Ignoring the fact that it was coming in three hours too late. He could wait. If he felt like he could use you as a ploy in this stupid game with his friends. Then he could wait a few hours for your reply.

[18:12] to seokjin: oooh, surprise me then! im getting ready right now, see you in a bit?

 Rolling your eyes at your overly enthusiastic you're standing from your position on your bed, moving to your dresser to pick something to wear tonight.

 When you were in your early teens and just getting to know Namjoon and his friends, not a day would go by without an argument between you and Jungkook to take place. He always felt the need to try and one-up you, always had an opinion on what you were saying, and never believed you were as smart as him.

 The fact you got into your shared middle school solely on recommendation had nothing to do with his thought conclusion. Anyway, something that young Jungkook found extremely amusing was pranking. Loved the thought of tricking someone to the point of them getting upset only for him to shout: 'Relax, it's just a prank.' It was his favorite pass time, especially when you were involved.

 Quickly, you were picking up on his tactics and soon enough you were able to counter all of his 'well thought out' deceptions in a way he was the one with the egg on his face in the end. Fast forward years later, you and Jungkook hardly argued as much and he found more interested in girls than pranks... but that didn't mean you forgot how to play along.

 The forced learned deception would be applied tonight. How dare that boy think he could pull a fast one on you and get off scratch free? Yeah, right. There was going to be hell to pay. And you were going to make sure of it.

 Despite the fact, this was only a movie date and you could pretty much dress down when sitting in a dark room for hours, what you wore held a big part of your plan for tonight. Of course, you didn't want to make it obvious that your goal was to turn heads. Something subtle but undeniably sexy that his jaw was dropping at the first sight of you.

 It had been a while since you wore your bright red mini skirt and it fit tighter than you remembered. Deciding the tightness fit the theme of tonight, you're tucking your long sleeve black turtleneck into the skirt; admiring the way the form-fitting material highlights the natural curves of your body. 

 A large heart belt to give your waist that extra snatch and short black boots to tie it all together. Yeah, this guy is not going to know what hit him once he caught sight of you – you were sure of that much.

 Makeup had never really been something that you cared a whole lot for. Loved the way a bare face felt as opposed to being caked up for hours. Tonight was an exception though, you had to play the part, right?

 One short, way too detailed YouTube tutorial later, and you're being interrupted by the knock on your front door. With a final swipe of lip gloss onto your softened lips, you're moving from the mirror to answer the door.

 “Oh! Are you early or am I running late?” Jin stands on the other door, a large hoodie covering his slender figure and black jeans clinging to his legs. He eyes you shamelessly, seeming to have missed the words that had just left your lips. Bingo! “Here come in, I'm almost done,” You're turning, leading him into your house acting as if you hadn't noticed the way his eyes dropped when he thought your back was too him.

 Too freaking easy. Guys were too easy, it was sad.

 Just for good measure, you lead him to your couch; delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist. You're gesturing him to sit with a gentle tug of his wrist and his body moves accordingly, eyes never once lifting from you.

 “I'll just be another minute,” You promise, watching as he pushes a smile on his face before nodding. You make your way down the corridor and into your bedroom, honestly finished with getting ready but not against making the boy sweat for a little bit.

 Ten full minutes pass by of you just sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone before you're deciding that it was time to go. Jin stands as soon as you're exiting the room, composure back in check – that familiar smug look settled on his features once again. He spares you only a single glance as if he hadn't been full-on drooling when you first had opened the door.

 “You ready?” His voice sounds deeper than you remember and you can't help but wonder if he was forcing it in hopes to impress you. Not caring much to mull over the question, you're nodding your head. The heels of your boots clack against the hardwood floor as you move to meet his side.

 Jin thoughtlessly slides his arm around your waist, a simple gesture that pulls an annoying reaction from you. He leads you out of the front door, waiting patiently on the steps as you lock up.

 “No, Minho?” You're asking, noticing the absence of the shiny SUV parked on the curb. Jin is shaking his head, digging into his front pockets for something you can only assume is a key due to the metallic jingle filling your ears. “Gave him the night off... it's just me and you,” He grins and you smile back, of course, your master plan in mind and in no way a natural reaction to the sight of his contagious smile.

 He's pulling a silver key from his pocket, clicking the remote and you nearly jump at the sound of the beep. Bright lights illuminating the headlights of the sport's car parked just a few feet from your building. “Is that your car!?” Wondering out loud and neglecting to check the excitement in your tone.

 Jin watches with a knowing grin as you make your way over to the vehicle, cautious palms sliding over the fresh paint. You couldn't believe what you were staring at. A 2019 Alfa Romeo Giulia in the shade midnight black; an all-red leather interior... were you going to be sitting in that? This was what he was going to be taking you to the movies in?

 “It's nice, right? Got it for my birthday last year... a little bored of it now, though.” You hear the cocky tone of his voice, the 'I'm-so-much-richer-than-you' twang that has your blood boiling. With a roll of your eyes, hands now stiff and dropping to your side you step back.

 “It's alright,” You say with a shrug, pulling the passenger's side door open and sliding in before he even has the chance to reach for it. No point in keeping up with his fake gentlemen facade, you could very well open your own doors.

 Despite your slight shift in mood, Jin is still smiling. Not thinking twice about you not letting him open up the door you and sliding in on his side. Instantly, he's pulling his seat belt on; twisting the key in the ignition and you melt at the hum of the engine coming to life.

 “What's the movie you picked?” You're asking as a few moments of silence passed, the only sound that had filled the car in the past eight minutes was the radio that he liked to keep on low for some reason. 

 His gaze is shooting in your direction, eyes wide as if he hadn't expected to hear your voice just then. You offer up a gentle smile, blinking your eyes cutely up at him as you wait for his response. Jin's adam's apple bobs as he turns his attention back onto the road.

 “It. Have you already gone? It came out a few weeks ago,”

 You're shaking your head, ignoring the fact that if you had been the one to choose the movie for tonight – that would have been your choice. Even if you had already seen it, horror films were at the top of your list of faves... which was weird, because you had it on pretty good standing that Jin wasn't into scary movies.

 Either way, it wasn't like you planned on having him pay all that much attention to the movie in the first place.

 As expected, Jin paid for both your ticket and his. He purchased a large bucket of popcorn for the two of you to share and a couple of drinks to counter to salty effects of the treat. What a shame he was actually a douche bag, otherwise you would've swooned at his catering.

 Seats smartly chosen in the back row, where you could see the entire movie screen clearly but avoid being spotted by the other moviegoers. With the risk of being obvious, you lifted the armrest that divided your two seats long before the movie had started. Forty minutes in and several popcorn jerking jumps after, you were taking advantage of your early decision.

 “It's a bit cold in here, don't you think?” You spoke with a pout, eyes lifting to grasp his attention. He was staring at you, head shaking in a nod and you could tell he was searching his mind for ways to make you more comfortable. How sweet. “Should we sit a bit closer?” Voice laced with velvet, you're already scooting over the gap before he can disagree.

 Not like he planned to, the moment Jin's realizing what's going on; he's moving to close any left space between you two. His arm lifting to wrap around your shoulders as he tucks your body into his side. The movement so fluid and natural that you can't help but wonder how many times he's pulled the same move – no prompting needed.

 A few moments passed with your body cradled in his arms, his warmth surrounding you, and the strong scent of his cologne intoxicating you. You had noticed this the first time the two of you went out, Jin was well put together in his clothes and he always smelt so good. Not sure what it was, but the way that he smelt never failed to make your stomach flip.

 But it wasn't the time for that. Right now, it was time to put your perfect revenge plan into action. Delicately, the tips of his fingers ran over the swell of his chest, admiring the way the muscle felt underneath your digits. Dropping your hand lower, you spread your palm against his abs. 

 He had been so invested in the movie during your initial contact, that he hadn't noticed the feeling of your fingers on his chest... or chose not to acknowledge it. Now that you were tracing the ridges of his abs, his eyes were on you, slightly wide as he tried to figure exactly what you were playing at.

 You shot him an innocent smile, the tip of your index finger running over the curve of his bellybutton. Flinching at the contact, he blinked hard; breath caught in his throat as he waited. “I never knew you were so... strong,” Voice coming out in a purr, the tip of your finger trailing up the middle of his stomach. 

 Jin visibly gulped, confusion dancing over his brow as he shifted beside you. Not sure how to react to your sudden shift in behavior. You didn't care to slow down, to explain it to him – this was what he wanted, right?

 “I'm finding it so hard to pay attention to the movie,” Scooting closer to him, your hand drops down onto his thigh. Giving the muscle a light squeeze as you lean your body up, lips inches from his pink ears. “Do you want to know why?” You whispered, lips gently brushing over his lobe.

 “W-why?” He cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat; trying to avoid looking in your direction. If he was to turn his head, your lips would be mere inches apart. Just a simple twitch forward and you'd be kissing. No way he'd be able to keep his cool if that were to happen, so he kept his gaze forward. Not risking it.

 Fine with you, you weren't done playing. Thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of his pants, mouth closing around his earlobe. You felt him shudder, making a smirk rise on your lips. “I can't stop thinking about you... all the things we could be doing instead of being cooped up in here...”

 Jin was no fool, not the one to waste any time. If you were acting like this, saying that you were down there was no way he was going to pass up an opportunity like this. He'd just catch the movie when it came out on Netflix. “Should we go then?” He's mustering up all the courage he can manage to turn his head, dark eyes finding yours in the dim-lit room. 

 A bit surprised with his quick agreement, you're not letting it show on your face. You're grinning at his words, standing from your seat, and taking hold of his hand. Jin allows you to pull him up from his seated position, his hand landing on your hip. “Wait, slow down.” He's whispering, being considerate to the people scattered you.

 “You sure?” Head nodding before you had a chance to mull over his thought process in checking up at you. Reaching for his free hand, you're wiggling out of his grasp and tugging him behind you out of the theater.

 Both of you moving so fast, laughter slipping past his lips at your haste and you can't help but join in. You can feel the gaze of the people around you, but you don't care. Don't even bother to present an apology too wrapped up in enjoying yourself and trying to push away the warmth rising in your chest. Now wasn't the time for that.

 Jin's stopping you the second the cool night air is hitting your exposed skin. His hand twisting in your grasp until he's able to take hold of your hand. Easily, he's pulling your body into his and flashing you that heart-stopping smile of his. Chests pressed together, breaths mixing and you hadn't realized you had been breathing so heavily before.

 Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare up at him, his eyes searching yours. He's slow with the way he closes the negative space between the two of you, his hands lifting to cup your cheeks. And he's leaning in, lips finding yours... the smile breaking onto your lips before you have the chance to fight it.

 He's kissing you so slowly and delicately as if you were made of glass. Hands cool against your heated cheeks and you can feel his smile over your mouth. It was all becoming too much, your heart getting too involved over a stupid kiss... this was not part of the plan!

 You're pulling away at the feeling of his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, looking up at him with your lip caught between your teeth; trying to look as sexy as possible in this situation. “Come on, we'll have much more fun once we're alone...” Discreet in the way you gesture to the family of five that were making their way into the theater.

 Jin's following you without a word, the grin never falling from his plump lips. He's leading you this time, quick steps are taken to his car where he opens your door for you. You get comfortable against the seats, watching as he jogs around to the other side to slide in beside you.

 All giddy and smiley, excited that he was about to get some. That he was about to win this stupid bet he and his friends thought would be a good idea... boy, he had no idea what was coming.

 Thick laughter leaves your lips as you stumble into your bedroom with tangled feet. Jin's lips haven't left your skin since you were pushing your front door shut, fingers gripping at your hips, eagerly drumming at the exposed skin. He's turning your body to gently push you back against the door, lips dropping to capture yours.

 “Don't think... I'll... get tired, of kissing you,” He breaths out deeply, sentence carelessly strewn together his sole focus was the way he was moving his tongue in your mouth. And a skillful tongue it was, too bad this couldn't go all that far – you'd love to know how that tongue in other places...

 You're kissing him back with just as much fervor, hands sliding down the front of his shirt until you can grip the hem of the shirt. Slowly you drag it up, inch by inch revealing his well worked on torso to ghosts of your bedroom. He's pulling back then, hands reaching for yours to assist you in his disrobing.

 A moment is spared to admire just what he had been hiding underneath all that fabric. Oh, what a shame... Leaning on your toes, you're taking his lips in another lingering kiss careful not to push too far. Plan would go to shit if you were allowing yourself to get lost in his soft kisses.

 Easily, you move from your position against the door. Jin watches you the entire short walk to your bed, body turning so he can get a better look at you. You make a show of the way you climb toward your headboard, bare legs crossed as you look up at him. Beckoning him over with your finger, Jin is quick to spring to action, all but running over to the edge of your bed.

 He's waiting, noticing how you stopped him just before he was about to climb into bed right on top of you. If only. What a shame. Jin's eyes drop to your thighs, catching the way you rub them together as your teeth nibble at your lower lip. “Take your pants off,” The command coming out whiner than you had hoped but Jin's hands are quick. His eyes on you the whole time he's unfastening his belt and dropping his pants to his ankles.

 You're careful not to let your eyes bulge at the sight of the size of his erection, straining against his boxers and just begging for some attention. A rub. A suck. Something. If circumstances were different, you would've been on your knees by now. Begging for a taste. What a shame.

 “These too,” The finger you had began to nibble at falls from your mouth, arm extending until you're able to reach him. You trace the tip of your finger over his covered shaft because, fuck... you can't help yourself.

 Jin shudders, mouth dropping and you can swear you see his dick twitch underneath the fabric. “You're fucking perfect.” He groans, quick to pull his bottoms down his legs, not even reacting to the way his cock bobs free, slapping against his hipbone. Fuck, he was huge, unbelievably thick, and beautifully veiny. Whoever said God was fair...

 Swinging your legs toward the edge of the bed, you're reaching for his hip; pulling his body toward you gently. Forcing your eyes from his pretty cock up to his face. Ignoring the urge to wrap your lips around the tip, just a taste. That couldn't hurt, right? “You think I'm perfect?” There's sincerity in your voice, still not over the initial shock felt when the compliment was falling from his lips.

 You couldn't lose your head now, though. Not when you were already so close to your goal. Jin is nodding his head without a second thought and you're grinning, leaning back just a bit so you can get a better look at his face.

 “Worth a hundred bucks?” 

 His eyes turn to moons the moment your words are registering. “W-what? How do you... how do you know about that?” He's stepping back just as you're shooting up from your bed.

 “What do you mean how do I know!? How could you try to humiliate me like that!?” You had spent so much time planning and re-planning your revenge that you hadn't put any time into thinking of what you were going to say once the jig was up. Mostly because you were so hurt by what he had done and you couldn't think of a way to express that without punching him a good one.

 “I mean-,” You're moving around the room, collecting the clothes that he had carelessly thrown down in the mindset he was going to become a richer man tonight. “Who even does something like that!? Is making a quick buck really that important to you?” You felt yourself holding back, wanted to ask how dare he make you like him just to turn out to be like any other guy.

 No way were you going to let him know that his stupid prank was working in any way, though. Keeping the little fact that you were falling for it to yourself was best. “It wasn't like that, Yn! Really.” He's half trying to explain himself to you and half focused on just what the hell you're doing with his clothes. Large hand covering his junk, no longer feeling confident in his nudity. 

 “Then what was it like, Jin?” You're turning, quick, not realizing that he had been standing right behind you. “Because from what I understand is that you and your friends thought it would be fun to put a price tag on my sex life and who knows how many other girls you're fucking with,” That, had been something that you forced yourself not to consider... but not the words were falling from your lips and realization was hitting.

 “It's just you! I mean... please, just hear me out. There aren't any other girls, and-,” You're cutting him off with a lift of his hand. Not really in the mood to be lied to. So ready to get him out of your face so you could be alone with all that you were feeling. “I don't want to hear it. I really don't. You're disgusting, Seokjin.” Your last words are delivered slowly and with your eyes staring into his. 

 “Yn-” He starts, but stops when he notices your backward steps toward your bedroom window. You push it open without any strain, lifting his clothes. “W-wait, what are you doing!?” He looks panicked as you toss his clothes out of the window, slamming it shut after you see them hit the ground.

 “Why would you go and do something like that!?” He's pissed, you can tell... but you don't care. You're done with him. Gave him the thirty seconds of distraught that he earned and now you were over it. For the most part. You'd work it out. It hadn't been that long since the two of you started hanging out. It wouldn't be that hard to get your shit together.

 “Hm, I wonder.” You mock with a roll of your eyes, you're passing him crossing your bedroom to reach your bathroom. “You can let yourself out,” There finality in your tone and you mean it, not bothered if you never saw him again after this.

 “You're not even going to let me explain?” He sure is talkative for a dude clutching his junk while his designer garments soaked in mud. “There's nothing to explain. Get out.” There's a droop in his shoulders following the sternness of your words. He's making his way toward your door with slow steps and you feel your heart crunch.

 Hated that it had to be like that, that he had to be like the rest of them. That you even bothered to give him a chance in the first place. It was so clear to you in the beginning, but you thought to give him the benefit of doubt, wanted him to be different... everyone was the same.

 “To think I was starting to change my opinion about you,” The words slip without your full intention. He's turning to look at you, but you're quick with the way you pull the bathroom door shut. Not having it in you to actually watch him walk out.

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog​​ @smoljams​​ @dee-ehn​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​ @lilacdreams-00​​ @sw33tnight​​ @bangtansonyeondayyyum​​ @okblve​​ @jinhitwhore​​ @tae165​​ @hellotherehoneybee​​ @bangtansbun​​ @betysotelo18​​ @cherriigguk​​ @koostime​​ @kooinluv​​ @butterflylion​​ @kookiesjoonies​​ @uxwi​​ @honeyoongles​​ @imajiningseokjin​​ @amoreguk​​ @beeeb05​​ @tommasauras​​ @bluefaeriefury​​ @butterflylion​​ @withlovestudyblr​​ @samros95​​​ @korkanswers​​ @houseofarmanto​​ @soulstaes​​ @thesunisup-theskyisblue​​​ @jinsearth​​​ @aizuwusho​​​ @moonb0yy​​​ @tan-dulset​​​ @8sjaf​​​ @mini-coop25​​​ @marifujioka​​​ @sunskook​​​ @elliemeetsevil​​​ @ratking101​​​ @leovaldezisfire​​​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

[shikantazaart]

Shikantaza Creativity Interview III - SPARTALIEN

At Shikantaza we are not content to just create art. We want to understand art. We want to understand the people who make art. Into the act of creation. Who are the people behind the art work? What motivates them? Where do they find their inspiration?

No two people think and act alike, so it is even less likely to find two artists who think and act alike. Yet, there will be crossovers, shared thoughts and shared experiences. Where do we adjoin and where do we diverge?

Our series of interviews with artists and creators aims to answer these questions.

In interview number three we speak to multimedia experimenter SPARTALIEN. You can find his creations here https://spartalien.com/visual as well as a collection of his work in the Shikantaza gallery.

1 - Starting with the most important question - Who is Memoria?

Memoria is Latin and means, when translated, memory / remembrance.

I named the merchandise for the album "2358" Memoria instead of Memory, because the main track titles are also translated into Latin.

I see my merchandise as small memories/artefacts. Not only because they are very rare, but because I can never go back to that time.

“Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things” - Cicero

2 - You work across different mediums. Do you have any preference for a specific form? When did you first find the format that was “you”?

I became really infected with the digital virus around in the late 90s when I built my first computer. A year or two later I started taking photos and manipulating them digitally. I also had a few printed, which allowed me to bring the digital into the real world. Then I discovered IRC and started learning a little bit of TCL. Since I had fun coding, I decided to learn the basics of web development because I needed a website to show my pictures to other people. In general, I was fascinated by the flow of information on the Internet. That distance is no longer a real hurdle when it comes to data transmission.

I've always loved music as a listener and small collector. I was then and still am one of those people who never go out of the house for long periods of time without a Walkman. Music production came into play when a couple of friends set up a small studio where they produced Techno/Psy. When I was there for the first time, I knew immediately that I wanted to try it too. A few old tracks from back then are still available on my website.

From then on, many of my projects have developed in the direction of music.  The input for a program was often music metadata or it was a website that was about music in some way or another. But since I was still at the very beginning of my learning process, I kept discarding practically everything in order to improve it or to learn new things. Around 2001, I started a web radio with friends, which was online for several years. The music was mainly Downtempo, Trip-Hop, IDM and Ambient. Promos from unknown artists from around the world were also broadcasted.

The atmosphere, the feeling I got from this time - how the music finds me and not the other way around, how it can change people's thoughts - has never left me since then.

3 - Do you feel that each medium allows you to express yourself differently from the others? How do you choose which medium you work in any given moment?

Yes. But I think you can convey the same feelings with any medium. The question is how direct it is. For example, pain can be expressed with fire but also with a chair in an empty room. At the end of the day, in my opinion, it's not about the artist's intention but about the perception of the viewer and his or her subsequent thoughts and actions. For example, imagine you make a dark ambient track that you experience as sad and heavy, but someone else tells you that it helped to relax and develop thoughts.

In addition to all of this, each medium also has advantages and disadvantages when it comes to technical implementation. So, sometimes the choice can also purely depend on skill or resources.

We all have ideas and often out ambitions outweigh our resources. Sometimes we need more resources, but more often than not we need to chip away at our ideas until our ambitions and resources align.

4 - Do you seek different sources of inspiration for your music than you would for your visual creations?

It's everything in the world around me that inspires me. Everything I perceive and feel, so to speak. Most of the time I don't have a melody or a picture in my head. It is more of a feeling and then I look for the right tone or shape for it, so to speak.

5 - How closely are your creations connected to each other?

Very close one could say - through my thoughts that I have wrapped in it. I always had a bit of a problem putting my thoughts into words. I tend to stray through various topics when I talk about something. With music and visuals, it feels lighter and more natural to get to the point. The "message" doesn't always get through, but being able to do so is liberating and invaluable to me.

6 - If you were to direct people to a specific piece of work that you feel really nails what you are aiming for with your creations, which would it be?

This is a hard question. Maybe I would ask you to sit down and listen to the album "FLOATING HIGH" in one sitting. Since it felt like coming home to me while making it. The music is less intrusive and not as precise in its message as the previous releases. Like its cover art, where the clouds could be seen as opening or closing. I wanted to create tracks that leave more room for thought while still telling a story.

7 - You have “X minutes of peace” on your site. Why is this needed? Was this made for you or for others?

For others but also for myself. For me it is self-reflection that allows me to understand myself better. But since I have problems with "just switching off my head", the moments in which I just sit quietly and let the recording device do its work are very valuable. In moments like these I can really switch off and think about something very carefully. Asking questions even though I feel like I don't have an answer. Or simply enjoying the precious fresh air and sounds of nature.

Unfortunately, too many people don't have time for that kind of peace. Too much pressure is on them. They either get this or that, or they can't survive. It's so sad how the system works. I simply think that if everyone would have more inner-peace, the world would be a better place. But then again, what do I know living under a rock between mountains?

The videos should allow us to find peace for a few minutes, no matter where we are. So that new and hopefully useful thoughts can develop.

The series  Let It All Go is actually the same thing, just with music.

For the really dark hours there is BRAIN I/O. From time to time I prefer to embrace the pressure. Difficult to describe. The concept is basically: don't think, just feel and record it. It's about things that I personally want to leave behind or at least want to learn to accept (not necessarily being okay with) them if I can't change them.

Peace is an issue for me. When I briefly find it only points the way to the next act. This is fantastic but self defeating. Why can’t we just stay in peace?

8 - When inspiration has left the building where do you look to find it?

I'm not really actively looking for inspiration. Somehow it doesn't work that way for me. So variety is important to me. That is why I usually have several side projects going on in the areas that I do not much publicize. Much of it never leaves my hard drive and is mainly intended to free my mind and get on to new ideas in the process. Coding, graphics, drawing, etc. But the music production is and remains the main focus.

9 - These are the questions I am asking all the interviewees. Why do you create? What is it that pushes you to keep creating?

The inner child is just too strong. I've been living for a while and I know exactly nothing. It kind of feels like that. So many things that you can create with the computer alone. I'm stuck in that loop where you just love to create things and learn - and use the new knowledge to create new things. Things!

10 - What would most assist you to create more works? Is there an ultimate goal for your creations?

More time and resources for sure. but most important to me is the feeling that my loved ones are safe. When I have to worry about their future because the system is going the way it is, it feels like a pile of stones in my head.

The creative / social goal of my art is relatively simple and based on my own experience. Art has helped me tremendously when I felt lost - or when I was just "bored". Taking time to really listen to or look at something can be very liberating.

My short-term financial goal is to generate a more or less regular income through art. But since I never released anything commercially before 2016, this world is still new to me.

My dream goal is to hear my music in film and games and to generate an income that supports my family.

Nonetheless, I think goals are here to create an initial path, not necessarily motivation.

I do not know of a single soul who has not been lost. Some never find their way back. Some don’t need to find their way back, they are happier in the place they found.

11 - If you were to offer a creator any advice what would it be?

Based on my own experience in no particular order:

Stay curious and open minded for different viewpoints.

Tutorials can limit your creativity. Sure, learn the basics, but explore as much as you can on your own and never be afraid to fail. It's a process, not a game.

On projects that take longer than a day to complete, set yourself a deadline when you want to have it completed. Not important if it takes longer, but in general that helps to stay more focused.

Very few things are easy when you start.

Limitations are not necessarily bad.

Don't wait for motivation to create. It will kick in usually a few minutes after you've started. Therefore keep your tools ready and organized so you can start creating at any time.

You can always turn off the internet.

Be open for constructive criticism.

Especially for the digital crowd, backup your stuff!

(All images and works by SPARTALIEN)

[whothehellisyn]

Cat and Mouse | Ch. 7

Series Masterlist

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dark!Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Warnings: unreality, paranoia, wet dreams, minor gaslighting (moved objects), sleep paralysis

AN: you know the typical warnings, and we’re almost caught up to my current writing!

It’s been two weeks since Quentin left, and it’s been three days since you’ve slept. You can feel the exhaustion affecting your body and your mind, as you’re much clumsier now. Earlier you dropped a glass again, and just now you hip-checked the kitchen counter because you miscalculated how far you were from it.

“Fuck!” You groan, rubbing your hip. “God, I’m so fucking tired.”

“Maybe you’ll pass out eventually, and just collapse and force-sleep.” You say. It’s a hopeful thought. “Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll happen later on tonight.” You nod to yourself and go back to perusing the kitchen for lunch.

“Damn, I need to go to the store soon.” You note, wondering if you should make a list. “Wait...” Oh yeah. You can’t do that.

“Is there enough for this week?” You ask. You start to do some mental calculations, counting up the cans and boxes.

“Maybe? If you’re careful.” You decide. “No more snacks, just the meals.”

Making conversation with yourself has become second nature now, and you don’t hesitate to ask yourself things that don’t matter. Over dinner, you explain to yourself wether you believe in fairies or not. You pretended to give a tutorial on cooking as you prepared your meal. You’ve started to feel more and more tired throughout the day, but in the middle of cleaning up your dishes it starts to really hit you.

Even as you wash your plate you can feel your eyes trying to close. Your body begins to settle into a sort of lull as the sink runs, the white noise is so comforting and soft...

The metallic clang of the plate slipping from your fingers and landing in the sink makes you jump, snapping awake.

“I’m way too tired to be handling breakable items.” You mumble. You know you have to shower before you try to get some sleep, but it’s so tempting to just go to bed dirty.

“Don’t be gross,” You chastise yourself, “You stink.”

You start the shower again and begin to get undressed. Just before you go to get into the shower, you hear the big metal door clanging shut. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you peek out of the bathroom and look for Quentin. Nobody is in the suite, but there’s brown paper bags on the kitchen table. You go to them and discover that they’re groceries, a mix of fresh foods and shelf items.

t occurs to you that this means you’re being punished for the long run. Then you start to think more about this delivery. Apart from your short bathroom breaks, this was the first time all day you’ve been out of the main area longer than a few minutes. How could he have known you needed food and also when you’d be occupied long enough to deliver food without you being able to see him?

You tighten the towel around your body and look around the tops of the walls. He’s got to be watching you somehow.

You search around for fifteen minutes before you realize you’ve left the water on.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You say, running to the bathroom. You feel the water and luckily it’s still warm. You shrug off the towel and rush to get clean. Hopefully he doesn’t have cameras in the bathroom.

Wether it was the grocery delivery or the shower, that sleepiness from earlier is gone much to your chagrin. You lie on the floor, on the verge of tears from frustration. God, you’re so fucking tired.

“I just want to sleep!” You whine, covering your eyes with your arm. “I don’t want to sleep in the bed.” You add, as if to stop yourself from suggesting it.

But maybe you have to, even if you don’t want to. You sit up quietly and sneak over to the bed to avoid your own will from realizing what you’re doing.

The bedsheets are so soft, have they always been? They don’t even smell like Quentin anymore, thank god for that. You use the blanket you’ve been sleeping with onto of the bedspread and curl up in the comfort of the mattress.

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You dream that you’re in SHIELD headquarters and Peter Parker has dyed his hair green on accident. Director Fury’s eyepatch keeps changing eyes but he doesn’t seem to notice. He asks you if you’re allergic to tomatoes and that he wants to know because he just learned how to make spaghetti.

Your neighbor Madeline announces to the three of you that she is now the new head of SHIELD and puts Director Fury in a mason jar. You get put in a coffee mug and she makes Peter dye his hair purple before putting him in a Tupperware. Apparently Director Madison has a fascination with putting people in containers.

It starts storming inside the headquarters, and little fishes and seaweeds drop from the clouds and onto everyone. “It’s a hurricane!” Director Fury yells, dumping you out of the mug. “We have to take cover.”

You obey, and hide next to Peter Parker underneath a desk. He has an octopus on his head, but you try not to stare. He’s about to tell you something when–

You wake up still exhausted, but feeling much better than before. What a weird dream.

You half expected Quentin to be in bed next to you, but you’re still alone. You go to unpack the groceries from last night but they’re already put away. Another quiet visit.

“That’s kinda of rude, don’t you think?” You ask.

“Personally I think it’s incredibly fucking rude, but what do I know?” You reply.

“No, no,I definitely agree with you.” You say, opening the fridge to look for where everything has been put. “Especially because butter,” you grab a knob out of the box, “goes outside the fridge!” You tear off the paper and drop it onto a plate.

“Of course he’d put all the butter in the fridge, the fucking bastard.” You say jokingly. “He’s the exact type to not understand the needs of butter.”

You chuckle for a few seconds before you go quiet. You’re really laughing at something you told yourself, huh? That’s not what normal people do. Maybe you’re going crazy.

“You’re not crazy, dumbass.” You say in an obvious tone. “Social conventions are bullshit, everyone talks to themselves at least a little.”

You feel the need to add to your defense, “At least you’re not seeing stuff.”

Two more days pass and you start to feel more paranoid about the surveillance that surely is required for these quiet visits of Quentin’s. You’ve also been incredibly bored and anxious to do literally anything since day three, and now you’re getting tired of talking to yourself. Which is pretty fucking bad because you don’t have have anybody else at this point.

You’re eating a bowl of soup for lunch when you notice the bathroom door is closed. That’s weird, you think. it was definitely open a few seconds ago, you just came from the bathroom not ten minutes before. Setting the bowl down on the kitchen counter, you approach the bathroom door and let it swing open.

The bathroom is empty. You were certain you hadn’t closed it, but maybe you did and just didn’t realize it. The days all blend together now anyways, it’s not unreasonable to have done it without noticing.

You go back to your soup, picking it up off the table where you left it.

But you didn’t leave it there. You left it on the counter, didn’t you?

The metal door hasn’t opened since the groceries were delivered and put away last week. You’re certain of it. You even started showering with the bathroom door open so you’d be able to hear it.

You abandon the soup and start opening up cabinets. You open up every single cupboard, the pantry, the linen closet in the bathroom, you even open up all the drawers. You tuck the bed skirt up under the mattress so you can see under the bed. You find nothing but...

Something is in here with you. You don’t know if it’s Quentin, or a drone, or both, but there’s no fucking way you would think you placed the bowl on the counter unless you really did. You’re not sure how to proceed with this information.

You go to put the leftover soup in the fridge, and on the middle shelf at your eye-level is the plate with the butter on it. You calmly take it out and place it back on the counter.

“Like I said, a fucking bastard.” You say quietly.

You crawl into bed that night wary of your surroundings. Nothing has been moved since lunch, but you can’t shake the feeling that something else has changed. It’s something unconscious, you think. Like if the walls were suddenly two shades lighter than they were yesterday. There’s no way for you to prove something is different but you can sense it all the same.

You get underneath your trusty blanket and lie in the darkness. You want to fall asleep, even if it means that whatever is in here has the chance to do something. You can dream if you sleep, you can go be somewhere else and “talk” to people.

You are dreaming, but it’s a sea of images and sounds and sights. It feels like home and nowhere simultaneously, which was fine. You feel something crawling all over you, and when you look down, your body is covered in thick vines that have wrapped around your limbs.

You wake up flailing, inches down the bed from where you fell asleep. The covers are thrown off, your pajamas slouching down towards your left foot as if something had grabbed it to yank you off the bed.

These sort of peripheral out-of-sight visuals continue. Sometimes you feel breath on the back of your neck that belongs to no one, or feel the looming presence of a person inches away from you until you turn around to face an empty room. You know he has illusion technology, you know it must be him, but it feels so small and minuscule compared to what he’d usually do.

Maybe he’s trying to make you feel crazy, so you’ll run into his arms afraid you’re insane. Maybe you’re trying to make you feel crazy, accidentally.

You sleep again, this time waking up to sleep paralysis. You’ve never had it before now, at least that you can remember. You had dreamt of a weight on your chest, and something choking you with just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. You hallucinate that a rotting corpse is straddling and strangling you as you lie immobile, and when the paralysis leaves you you sob with relief.

Days melt again and sleep comes rarely. The times you do fall asleep you’re always jarred awake, that feeling of falling taking over. You fall asleep anxiously, your heart pounding slowly as if it’s preparing itself for more terror.

You step out of the shower one morning and in passing notice your obscured reflection in the bathroom mirror. Full of steam, your body is a blurry mass of flesh tone within its confines, but what catches your eye is a large, dark object directly behind you.

Breathing shallowly, you pick up a hand towel and slowly make your way to the surface of the mirror, before swiping quickly as if it startle the thing behind you first.

As you swipe away the steam, the visage disappears instantaneously. Whatever was behind you is no more. Paranoia begins to rear its head.

The night terrors and sleep paralysis are awful, the peripheral hallucinations as well, but nothing mentally prepares you for the dream you have.

It’s easy to write off the rest of these moments as Quentin’s doing, after all, he’s a master manipulator.

You’re running through the maze again. It’s still as dimly lit and damp as it was the day he forced you through it, but this time something has changed within you.

Quentin catches you with ease, just like last time. But when he grins, you grin back and catch his lips with a very open kiss, tongues working into each others’ mouths. You wanted him to catch you.

His Mysterio clones pin you to the wall and you moan, legs opening wide for the Quentin as they grab your arms. You’re not wearing panties, and Quentin groans approvingly as he kneels on the ground and buries his face in your sex, hiking your gown up past your hips. He rips the side seams, leaving you naked before the three men. The clones, rid of their helmets, bite at your neck and take turns kissing you messily.

Everywhere you look, everything you feel, is Quentin Beck. The two clones lean to kiss you at the same time, Quentin fucking you with his tongue as he eats you out. You get close and closer to climaxing when he pulls away suddenly and looks up at you, dragging his tongue against your clitoris torturingly slow.

“Fuck, please,” you gasped. “Please, I don’t want to cum yet.” Quentin slows his pace even more, his tongue hot and wet against you. The mysterios begin to tease your nipples with their fingers as they suck on your neck, one dipping down to use his mouth. You whine and squirm against them and the pleasure.

“I want you to fuck me, please.” You beg, stomach tightening from the impending orgasm.

Almost excitedly, Quentin pulls back and tugs his suit off, though his clones haven’t stopped their pace at all as if to keep you on edge. They’ve raised you further up the wall, Quentin nestling between your legs like he was made to be there.

He pushes into you and your entire body thrums with how good it feels. How good he feels.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good sweetheart.” He groans. He sets an unrelenting pace, quick and hard.

You’ve devolved into a series of pleases and fucks and yeses, alternating between those words as he rubs your clit with one hand and grabs your hip with the other. His clones are whispering things to you, Quentin too.

“You gorgeous little thing, you’re ours and nobody else’s.” one says. “You’re such a good girl for us, sweetheart.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll have to carry you back, all fucked out from my cock.” Quentin says, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby?”

You nod, your entire body stimulated from the three of them. It would feel good to be spoiled that way, to be carried back and tucked in and away from everything else.

Quentin’s breathing has become ragged, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he thrusts harder and harder into you until he cums, your own orgasm following suit as the feeling of his release inside you pushes you over the edge.

You wake up sweating, underwear damp and proof of what had just transpired.

The one place Quentin couldn’t hurt you, and there he was, fucking you inside it. A wet dream to betray your hatred.

You know it’s impossible for him to know what just happened but you still feel ashamed and confused.

The shower water is hot, borderline unbearable, and you roughly wash your arousal out of yourself with your fingers. It did not happen. It couldn’t have happened. It will not have happened.

Various excerpts of the four of you play in your head every idle moment you afford your brain. It lurks behind every thought you process as if to remind you that it came from within your mind.

You push it away as much as you can, try to ignore the sinking feeling. Somewhere Carl Jung is preaching to a dead choir about wish fulfillment. Plenty of people have dreams about the things that happen to them, and it gets jumbled up and spit back out in their sleep as something contorted and wrong. You’re just processing the awfulness of this all, that’s all. Your brain is trying to make sense of this betrayal in the only way it knows how.

But it also makes sense considering what you and Quentin were, before. You can still remember how soft the first kiss between you two was, something tentative and sweet. He cupped your face that first time, stroking your cheek with his thumb like he was trying to remind himself you were real.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms, once. There was even an inkling of a future with him in your mind. Maybe that’s why you lash out so much. It’s true that what he has done is evil, but to be truthful you’re more scared and disgusted by yourself.

After everything, part of you wants to love him, the real him. Because he has to be in there somewhere, doesn’t he? You want to salvage this awful, terrible thing even after he tortured you. You wonder what there is to say about it. Perhaps it’s just you clinging to what little reality there is left, even if that reality is a false one.

The water has run cold. You turn the knobs to shut off the flow and wrap yourself in a towel. There’s a lot to think about. You dress silently, and say nothing as you stare at the television for a while.

“I’m not sure how much of this isolation I can take.” You whisper suddenly. “We’ve gone full to circle to having… that sort of dream after everything that’s occurred.” You say even quieter, “What if I’m starting to need someone?”

You look up from your seat on the bed at the television. “I think you’ll be okay.” You try to say reassuringly. “The nightmares aren’t so bad that you can’t sleep afterwards, you still have an appetite...” You trail off.

You nod, and bite your lip as tears start to fall. You have those things, for now. But even trying to be hopeful about things working out somehow just hurts in the end.

[violetsoju]

i took an online introductory mandarin course during the lockdown and it took me almost half a day to get through two 10-minute videos about basic vocab and grammar because i could only pay attention for three minutes before i opened another tab for tumblr or youtube LOL T-T my brain would not be able to handle school anymore

i had never had shaking hands or heart palpitations from caffeine before!! usually i just get a headache. but i was working that day so i had to try very hard to appear like i wasn't suffering HAHA despite this i still like boba, but i can't have it at night anymore (one time i stayed awake until 4am, it was absolutely dreadful) ಥ_ಥ

i feel bad when i find my books all covered in dust from sitting around untouched for years, but it's always a nice reminder of the worlds i was temporarily transported to when i read them (◡‿◡)

also LIN!! did you do synchro swimming!?? cuz that IS SO INTENSE WOWZA i used to take swimming lessons and the chlorine was the worst part! always had to have goggles so idk how on earth the synchro swimmers do it, i would just be crying underwater

yvonne yvonne im putting this under the cut bc i got excited and got carried away hahahaha 👉👈

omg half a day for two 10-minute videos i have never felt this so much T_T hopefully the course was helpful tho!! and yeah even when i drag myself to the library to get work done, i cant focus without closing the tumblr and youtube tabs :'))) im guilty of scrolling tumblr and discord while lectures or tutorials are on-going too at times LOL

aaah thats good thats good T_T i think heart palpitations and head pounding are the max for me to suffer from alr, def would not want to venture into shaking hands ;_; omg bc same!! i couldnt resist having milk tea during a christmas dinner party once (it was so so good tho T_T) and oh my god i was staring at the celling wide awake until 4/5am too :')) but surprisningly viet coffee is alright for me, i wonder why hmmm

hey at least your books are covered w dust in all its glory while some of mine are still wrapped cosily in plastic after years........ 💀 but when you randomly pick them up when feeling nostalgic and flip the pages that have turned yellow, those feels are really :'))) i springclean my room once a year (bc cny and thats the time where asian moms go all frenzy w springcleaning hhh) but theres a certain selection of books that still make the cut till today ♡ and ngl the amount of series that i bought on impulse bc of fomo and bc they were the thing back then that i have donated away are.... coughs coughs any hot takes on which series they were hhhh

hahahaha i did!! back when i was younger heheh for fun tho!! ntg serious mainly bc i was just there for fun and i wasnt flexible enough LOL (my coach used to ask my mom what milk formula she fed me bc my bones were hard as hell hhhh) plus i cant for my life open my eyes underwater so i never did group routines -> never making it to the next level hhh. i used to be that kid who just wanted to try anything and everything so synchro swimming made it to the list too 😂 looking back it is quite intense i would say, lots of physical and mental strength needed. physical bc you need good stamina and muscle strength to flop in and out the water like a fish w grace w limited air supply, mentally bc the pools we trained in were diving pools so they were real deep, real real deep. i forgot exactly how deep it was but in a section of the pool there was an inverted pyramid at the base. our training was at night so imagine a dimly lit swimming arena, swimming w the dim lights flickering the water and having your feet real far away from the ground, it was honestly quite a challenge at first haha (i was made to do swimming drills in the swimming lanes w no lights at all both above and underwater bc i wasnt part of upcoming comps and oh my god i would never be able to do it again if asked to now) but once you get used to it its alright! kids being kids we even competed w each other to see who could reach the deepest end of the pool sometimes hhh. i did it for 3-4 years i think, didnt met the nicest ppl there but met some ppl w hearts of gold there too ♡ a fun and valuable memory and experience nevertheless!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Non Grata

Sequel to Getaway Homecoming

Warnings: noncon sex (oral and intercourse), angst. This is dark!(nomad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

Summary: The reader finds herself lost after Steve’s second visit.

Note: Do you like to hate Steve Rogers? Does him being an absolute dick make you hard? Well this is the series for you! Here’s another of a brutal nomad Steve and a desperate reader who just wants him the fuck the fuck off!

Anyways, hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think as always. Love ya <3

-

Steve left just as he had the first time. You were broken on the bed; your legs bent over the edge, an ache through your entire body, the remnants of his assault dripping down your thighs. The sweat cooled along your skin as you sank into an exhausted stupor. The shadows of the room loomed around you and a sharp hiss cut through the air. Your heart beat was distant, low. It filled your head like a drum. Your ears burned as the hiss grew to a snarl and your name roused you from your haze.

You turned your head to look at Ethan. He was as he had been for the last hours; bound to the chair to witness your debasement. You cringed and pushed yourself up on shaky arms. “Goddamnit, would you untie me?” He barked. The tone of his voice hurt more than your body. The bruises left by unyielding fingers and the welts around your neck from the twisted cotton.

You stood and crossed to the chair. Your fingers were unsteady as you worked at the tape. You tore it away from his ankles and wrists. You gulped as you gathered your voice. “Ethan…”

“Don’t,” He stood and brushed by you. “I...gotta get ready for work.” He didn’t look at the bed. Or you. He went to the closet and slid the door open. He pulled out a pair of grey pants and a navy button-up. “You should clean yourself up.” His tone made your heart clench. He was so unkind; angry even. At you? For what had been done to you.

“Please--”

“I don’t wanna talk.” He kept his back to you as he neared the door. “About it. About anything.”

You felt as if you had been punched. You clutched your sweaty hair as your eyes burned. You stared at the door until your stomach bubbled with bile. You dropped your arms and held back a sob. You dragged your feet to the bathroom door and braced yourself against the frame with one hand. You could feel Steve still; inside of you, outside. Your body was covered in his scent. His cum sticky along your thighs.

You closed the door as you stepped inside. You cranked the shower and waited for the steam to rise before you slipped past the curtain. The water was not hot enough to cleanse you. You could hear Ethan in the living room. Your tears melded with the water as you reached out to hold yourself steady against the tile. You listened to his soft footsteps until at last the door opened and closed. He was gone.

You scrubbed every inch of flesh. Every nook and cranny until you were on fire. Your muscles strained as you turned off the water and wrapped yourself in the soft terry towel. Your legs felt weak beneath you. You stripped the bed of the sheet; streaks of cum across the grey cotton. You bunched them up and shoved it in a garbage bag. 

You dressed stiffly. Ritualistically. You didn’t eat, didn’t even brew a coffee. You grabbed the bag and tossed it in the dumpster on your way to work. At least that would be the same. The same old desk; the same phone; the same monotone co-workers. 

-

When you got home, the apartment was eerily silent. It would be an hour before Ethan returned. You weren’t sure if he would. That thought made you want to vomit. You paced around the living room until the lock clicked and you stopped in your tracks as Ethan entered. His shoulders were stiff, his jaw set, his eyes grim. He looked at you for a split second but quickly glanced away. Was it shame? Disgust? Hatred?

He placed his bag beside the door as he always did. He sighed as he crossed the threshold between entrance and living room. His hand settled on the arm of the couch, fingers tapped in rhythm with unspoken thoughts. His eyes had turned to stone. At last he found the strength to look at you. You clasped your hands together as your nerves flurried. The tension was suffocating.

“Do you want the apartment?” He asked finally. You blinked and your cheek twitched. “Because I can’t stay in this place.”

“Wha--I…” You were breathless. You felt as if you were floating and feared you’d come crashing down. “Ethan, you--”

“What am I supposed to do? I can’t stay here, with you, after that,” He shook his head and looked away once more. He crossed his arms and leaned against the couch.

“You’re just going to leave me?” You voice cracked with the last syllable. He stayed silent and hung his head. “What do think that was, Ethan? Do you think I wanted that?”

“I think it looked like you enjoyed yourself, regardless of what you wanted,” He glared at you as he lifted his head. “Why didn’t you tell me before? About the cabin?”

“Would you believe me? Oh, you’d never guess, I was just up in the middle of nowhere and Captain America came out of the wildlands to ravage me. Very believable.”

“I--To think you let me touch you after he did,” Ethan spat as he stood straight.

You inhaled and stared him down. The silence wrapped around your throat. “I don’t want the apartment.” You muttered, “I only ever wanted you, but I would never force my presence on you.” A sickening heat crept up your spine. “I’ll stay with Gia until I find a place. I’ll have my stuff out by the end of the month.”

Ethan’s shoulders dropped. “Is that it? You’re not going to fight?”

“What’s the point? You’ve made up your mind and I’ve already lost everything.” You lowered your lashes before the tears could spill. “I never wanted to say goodbye but I never imagined it would be like this.”

You bit your lip in the lull that followed. Ethan cleared his throat and you heard his footfalls across the hardwood. “I’ll give notice to the landlord.” You glanced over at his shoes as he stood by the bedroom door. “You can take whatever you want.”

He disappeared through the door and your throat constricted. You shook as you turned and looked to the balcony door. It was still unlocked from the night before. You neared and slowly pulled it open. On the other side, your bikini top hung from the knob. You didn’t recall him taking it but you also couldn’t remember finding it in your luggage. Another detail lost to the oblivion of your mind.

You untangled the strap from the handle and felt an unusual shape against the pad. You felt along the cup and slipped your fingers through the small slit sewn in to remove the padding. You gripped the thin plastic and removed it with a fumble. You held up the card you hadn’t noticed was missing. The one you had cracked several years ago and was often forgotten in the back of your wallet. Your name and social security number faded across the plastic.

You turned it over and it fell from your grip with a gasp. Just below the black strip were letters written in slanted sharpie. You knelt to read it again; certain you were imagining it. But staring back at you was the very clear message; a promise. I’ll find you.

-

Gia’s apartment was almost too small for the both of you. She helped you inflate the air mattress with the manual pump in the living room as she tried to disguise her curiosity with none-so-subtle questions. You hadn’t told her much. You and Ethan had chosen to go your separate ways. The relationship had lost its lustre. The usual cliched bullshit recited to conceal your heartbreak. Even so, you could tell she wanted to know more. She was ever the sucker for gossip; even if it was another’s pain.

She put on beauty tutorials and ordered take out. You ate as you pretended to listen to the brow shaping tips. You didn’t taste the fried rice or the sweet and sour chicken. When at last she retreated to her room, you laid across the mattress and sank into the darkness. You couldn’t sleep as your heart began to hammer. What if he found you here? What would he do to Gia? You were so stupid. Why had you come here?

When the sun rose, you were already awake. You had moved to the couch and jumped at every noise. Gia was on afternoons that day so she wouldn’t be up for some time. You made a coffee, drank it in the early morning din, and forced down a bowl of instant oats. You dressed, grabbed your purse, and set out for the bus stop. You’d be on a different route now that you were with Gia.

It was like any other day at work. You were almost late as the bus took a little longer and you rushed in without time for your usual ten minute pre-work laze. You opened up your emails and began to file through those until the first call of the day came in. You typed blindly and went through the usual spiel. Knocking off the checkboxes as you scrolled. The mind-numbing work was a relief from your now terrifying life.

Your third call of the day and you were yawning into you hand. You lifted the receiver and leaned back in your chair. “Gem Vacations, how can I help you?”

“You sound tired,” The deep voice had you stalk straight in your seat.

“Excuse me?” You glanced around at the desks around you. Your co-workers unaware as they typed and chattered in their customer service voices.

“Come on, you know who this is,” He taunted and you gripped the edge of your desk.

“What do you want?” You lowered your voice as you hid behind your screen. “I’m at work.”

“Just checking in. How’s Ethan coping?” You didn’t answer and he chuckled. “Ah, I figured as much. Weak little boy.” He was nonchalant; cloying. “I was only trying to help him. Show him how it’s done, ya know?”

“Why are you doing this?” You rasped as you tried not to tremble.

“I’ve always been told that everything happens for a reason. I never took it as more than an empty cliche.” You could hear his smirk. “But I figured I found you up there for a reason. All alone...what were the odds? It had to be for something, right?”

“No,” You answered evenly.

“So, where are you staying now that Ethan’s tucked his tail and run?” Again, you stayed silent. “Ah, don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. Maybe...your sister’s? She seems like a nice girl. You’re pretty close, so it’s only natural--”

“Leave her out of this,” You struggled not to raise your voice. “This has nothing to do with her.”

“No, it’s all about you, girl,” He snarled. “So, let’s not make it about anyone else by doing anything stupid. Understood?”

Your blood went cold and you leaned your chin in your hand as you tried not to scream. “Please, just leave me alone.” You slammed the receiver down harder than you meant to and stood. You rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in as your ears rang. You felt a buzz in your pocket and pulled out your cell phone. Private Caller. You answered, knowing who it was already.

“Now, now, we don’t do that, okay?” Steve warned from the other end. “Because that was stupid.” You swallowed as you stared at the painting of roses hung over the toilet. “Answer me.”

“Okay, okay, I’m--sorry,” Your breath shattered out of you.

“Good,” He replied sharply, “So this is how it’s going to go. I’m out of town at the moment. Business, you see? But I’ll be back soon. So, if you want me to leave Gia alone, you’ll keep me distracted, won’t you?”

“Yes,” You answered through gritted teeth.

“That’s ‘yes, Captain’,” He corrected, “With a little less attitude, girl.”

“Yes, Captain,” You softened your tone as you leaned against the door weakly.

“Good girl,” He preened from the speaker, “Now, go on and get back to work.”

The line died and you slowly lowered your phone. You tucked it into your pocket and neared the sink. You stared at yourself in the mirror; your eyes heavy with sleep, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Now, you had lost everything.

-

A few days into your stay on Gia’s floor and you finally found the time to visit the grocery store. You had cleaned out her cupboards and take out was growing pricey. You had a list, a budget, and a focus. Get everything you needed and get out. Life had become a series of tasks. Concentrate on this, then this, then this. You looked for any distraction to keep your fear from bubbling past your stomach. When you did have a chance to think, you were ready to vomit. 

Steve said he would be back soon. When was soon? Despite your efforts, these intrusive thoughts poked through. The dread. The presence that followed you around. From your air mattress to the bus seat to your office chair. The shadow loomed over you like the hawk over the field mouse. That was exactly what you felt like. A helpless critter to Steve. A repulsive rodent to Ethan.

The rush of people with their carts and baskets helped ease you. When you were around crowds, you felt safer. Before it had been the opposite. He was gone. Don’t think about it. Cereal. That was next. Did you want the granola with protein or the sugary childhood indulgence? You pondered the decision as if it were life changing. Every minute felt like your last.

You sighed and dug your heel into the floor. You weren’t a child anymore. Naivety was long gone. You reached for the organic oats. The box was swiped from your grasp before you fingers could grasp it and you followed the thick hand up the muscles arm to its owner. Your lips parted and you stepped back instinctively. You glanced behind you, Gia still at the other end of the aisle. She was focused on finding the right blend of coffee beans. She always used the in store grinder and...it was a whole process.

You turned back and tried to grab another box of cereal. Steve caught your hand and pushed it back down. You kept your eyes away from him and bit down on your anger. “What’s the matter? You don’t seem the impatient type.” Your eyes flitted over to him and your nostrils flared. “I tried to be quick but...shit never goes as planned.”

Your irritation quickly dissipated to fear. The fact that he was truly there was much more startling than your nightmares. Than the anxiety which had strung together his absence. You peeked over your shoulder at Gia and heard the granola shake in its cardboard shell. You turned back as Steve shook the box as if for a pet.

“Ask nicely and I’ll give it back,” You realized he was toying with you. “Might even leave before she notices me.”

“Please,” You tried to keep calm as you stared up at him. You were still utterly confused by the man. The last you had heard of him he had been the valiant American patriot turned stubborn refugee. Now he was your own personal nightmare. “May I have the cereal?”

He smirked and held it out to you. He watched as you took it and his eyes darkened. They slipped down and he licked his lips as he stared at the collar of your shirt. “Midnight. Eastern Vale Hotel. Room 346.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’d suggest you show up on time cause I won’t wait long before I come find you…” His eyes strayed past you, “And I might just find someone else, too.”

He backed away and grabbed a box of instant oatmeal from beside him. He pretended to read the ingredients as he strolled casually down the aisle and around the corner. You squeezed the box in your hands, almost crushing it as it crumpled at the edges. You shook your head and tossed it in the cart. Gia approached with a bag of coffee; you could smell it even before she placed it in the basket of the cart.

“They have free trade beans now,” She peered into the cart. “Mmm, maple nut?”

“They have very berry. We can switch.” You offered as you leaned on the handle. You’d rather one untainted by the super soldier.

“No, not, it’s cool. I like maple.” She shrugged. “Oh! I almost forgot. We desperately need toilet paper.” 

You followed her as she marched ahead of the cart and you sighed. As you turned down the next aisle your eye caught a broad silhouette near the check out. Steve smiled as he placed the box of oatmeal on a shelf of chocolate bars and stepped over the chain that marked the counter as closed. He winked just before you disappeared down the row of paper towels and wipes.

-

Eastern Vale Hotel was far. You almost didn’t get there in time. Gia had taken her time that night, her usual procrastination as bedtime neared. Alas, she had an opening shift and you tiptoed out quietly as you her fan began to whir. You locked the door carefully behind you and rushed down to the street. You jogged to the next block and hopped in a vacant cap, numbly reciting the name of the hotel.

When you arrived, you had only a few minutes to climb the three flights to the room. You didn’t want to chance waiting for the elevator as it lagged. You counted the rooms until you reached 346 and you shivered. You raised your hand to knock but the door opened before your knuckles landed against the wood.

“Thought I heard you hiding out here,” Steve greeted. He wore nothing but a pair of jeans as the television babbled in the background. You stared past him into the room. You couldn’t bring yourself to step past the threshold as your entire being seized with dread. “Well, you gonna come in or should I just fuck you out here? Think the hotel might have a policy against that.”

You shook your head and stepped inside as he pressed himself to the door. You gulped as the lock clicked behind you and looked around the room. It was a pretty decent hotel. It was at least preferable to the Motel8. He followed close enough that you could feel his heat against you. You tried to move away from him but he caught the waist of your pants held you in place.

“Come on, let’s not play shy. Boyfriend’s gone, you’re on your sister’s couch. Really, I’m all you’ve got now. Best enjoy it while it lasts.” Your nostrils flared and you turned to slap him. He caught your hand and brought you against him. He bent your hand back until your wrist threatened to snap. “You really wanna play rough?”

Fuck. You had already messed up. He released your hand and you hissed in pain. He grabbed your neck instead and pushed you away from him. He led you back at arms length, his grasp unyielding. Your knees hit the side of the bed and you clung to his wrist as you struggled not to stumble. He released you with a light slap on your cheek.

“That’s a warning.” His fingers tugged at the vee of your shirt. “If you’re not naked in one minute, I’ll mean it next time.”

His jaw clenched and he back away with a sneer. You looked down to hide the chatter of your teeth and bent to remove your sneakers and socks. Next your pants as you blocked out the reality of his presence. You knew you couldn’t avoid it. You were here. You were trapped. This man had shown you there was no escape. Then your shirt as you stood straight, your bra and panties with resignation. You piled your clothes beside his on the couch near the end of the bed next to his.

He grabbed your upper arm and shoved you towards the bed. “Sit,” He ordered as he released you. You lowered yourself and he stood before you. He was naked. His cock was already hard. He stared down at you, his blue eyes pondered you and he stepped back. He turned and neared the small fridge just beside the television. “You think a drink would help you relax?”

You shook your head and looked down. The offer made your stomach turn. You didn’t need his meager kindness. You didn’t want to make this easier for him.

“No? Fine with me. Stuff tastes like shit to me and it doesn’t even give me a buzz.” He shrugged and neared once more. He sat beside you, his thick thigh against yours. It was even more obvious how much bigger he was than you. How much stronger he was. “You could try, I mean, we both know you enjoy yourself. You just can’t help it.”

“Fuck off,” You stiffened and made to stand.

He caught you and pulled you back down. He pushed you back against the bed, your legs bent over the side as he held you to the mattress. He leaned over you, his breath hot on your cheek, and he snarled. “You can try not to like it, but I know you will. And you can try to resist, but it’s going to happen. So, you can stay still and be a good girl or you can be a bitch and I can treat you like dog you are.” 

He tugged on your hair until your exclaimed. The tears rose in your eyes and you forced out a response. “Okay, okay, ow. Just let go.”

“Two strikes,” He released you and stood. 

He planted himself in front of you and pushed your knees apart. You closed your eyes as you let him move your legs. He gripped your thighs and you felt his weight against you as he lowered himself to kneel before you. You peeked down at him and hid your surprise. His gaze was fixed on your pussy.

He bowed his head and you squeezed your eyes shut once more. You felt his breath against you and shivered. His hands kneaded your thighs. He didn’t fail to notice the tremble. He nuzzled your little tuft of hair and you struggled not to squirm. You weren’t ready for this. You had braced yourself for his usual gruffness, but nothing so intimate. It was an act of dominance in itself. He knew you would quickly dissemble.

As his tongue met your pussy you inhaled sharply. You clawed at the blanket and bunched it in your fists. Your back arched without thinking and your toes pointed. He dragged his tongue deliberately up and down your folds. You swallowed back the moan that bubbled in your throat. Your thighs tensed and he squeezed them. He could feel the instinctual reaction of your body.

He lapped again and again. Several times before his tongue swirled around your clit. That surprised you and a squeak escaped your lips. The sound only encouraged him. He circled his tongue over and over. Suckled as your legs began to close. He pushed your thighs to the side of his head as he buried his face between your legs and you rasped through bared teeth. You couldn’t fight the surge. 

You slapped your hand over your mouth as you cried out in ecstasy. Your thighs clamped around Steve’s head and your back arched. The electricity flooded through you until you were left breathless and weak. Your legs hung over his shoulders as the after waves rolled over you. You rarely came so fast.

“I told you,” Steve taunted as he wiped his mouth. 

He grabbed your ankles and stood. You thought to turn and crawl away from him but you hear this threat echo in your head; ‘Two strikes’. A third would no doubt lead to worse. He leaned your legs against him as he stepped closer. He reached down and angled his cock against your entrance. He gave no warning as he pushed inside. You whimpered and balled your hands around the blanket at your sides. The bed shifted beneath you.

He lifted your ass from the mattress and bottomed out. You grit your teeth as his hands gripped your hips. He pulled out of you and thrust back in as hard as he could. You exclaimed at the pain. He repeated his motion and your hands latched onto his as he used your body. Your weight rested on your shoulders as you hung at an angle atop the bed. You felt the familiar bloom and swore. 

“You gonna cum?” He teased. “Hmm? I can see it.” He grunted as he rocked into you, your moans grew louder by the moment. “You just can’t handle a real man can you?” You mewled and felt the gush around his cock as you came. “There it is. Look at you. So messy.”

You growled as you tried to withhold another orgasm but were surprised by another eruption. The phone rang but Steve did not slow. He reached over and grabbed the receiver, his voice strained as he answered; his heady breaths uncensored. “Yeah?” He raised a brow at the chatter from the other end. He shrugged and sped up. “Sure, whatever.”

He hung up and snarled. He pushed you further up on the bed and shoved his knees on the mattress beside you. Your legs were bent to your chest as he raised his pelvis and slammed back into you. You cried out in double-edged pain. Despite how rough he was, it felt so delicious. He brought his hand up and clasped it over your mouth.

“They said we gotta shut up,” He rasped in your ear. His motion never wavered as he folded you beneath him. He delved even deeper than before and you came with a whine into his palm.

He hammered into you and you were certain the bed frame would collapse. You moaned against his hand; the smell of his sweat filled your nostrils. His dark blond hair hung around his head and tickled your cheek. He slowed to sharp jabs and plunged decisively to his limit as a deep grunt tensed his body. He rode out his climax as his cum burst within you.

He stilled and rested his weight atop you. He hung his head and his hand slipped from your mouth. His breath evened out, humid against your neck, and he clung to you as he suddenly rolled over. He took you with him so you were atop him and you looked down at him with dazed eyes.

“Fuck me,” He ordered. You blinked at him in confusion and he smacked your ass. “Move.”

You carefully began to rock your hips. Your sensitive clit rubbed against him and you shuddered. He kneaded your ass as you balanced yourself with hands against his chest.

“Faster,” His eyes followed the movement of your body and his hands followed. He cupped your breasts and flicked the nipples as he played with them. He squeezed them together as you followed his direction. “Faster.” He said again and his hands slipped to your waist. “That’s it.” He said as you bucked against him wildly; both in obedience and an effort to catch your budding orgasm. “You’re gonna cum already, aren’t you?”

You threw your head back and pressed your lips together to keep from crying out. Your nails dug into his flesh as you orgasmed and you eased yourself down from the crest. He sat up and hooked his arms under your legs and you clung to him to keep from falling off. He stood with you aloft, legs bent and wide as he kept you on his cock. 

He walked across the room as if you weighed nothing. You felt a cool breeze along your back and glanced over your shoulder as he neared the window. It was open just a crack, the curtains pulled back entirely. He pushed your back against the glass and you wriggled helpless in his grasp. 

“You don’t wanna draw attention to yourself, do you?” He hooked your legs around his waist as he spoke. “Better hold on.”

You hooked your legs around him as he pinned your wrists against the window. He thrust into you, resuming the same harsh pace as before. You felt the glass strain and your eyes widened. If the window broke, you were fucked. Given the force with which he was fucking you, if you didn’t hold on, you’d go flying down the next block.

“Did Ethan not fuck you good enough, huh?” The mention of his name made you blanch. Your sweaty back stuck to the window as he jolted your body against it and you surrendered. This was what you were now. Ethan was gone and you were just...this. A thing to be used. Humiliated. “ You’re so fucking tight.  Goddamn.”

He swore and bottomed out. He filled you once more with his cum and you closed your eyes as the wave of euphoria was replaced by revulsion. With him. With yourself. You shook as he let go of your wrists and you leaned against him to get away from the glass. He his hands went to your ass and he turned back to the room.

“I was thinking the couch next? Maybe the chair?” He snickered as he crossed the room. “Then we can clean up in the shower…”

-

tags to be added in reblog

[keichanz]

This Is Halloween

IT IS DONE. FINISHED. FINITO. COMPLETE. AND I AM SO

FUCKING

HAPPY YOU HAVE NOOOO IDEA.

moving on, i had a lot of fun writing this, and i had no idea so many people would enjoy the idea of writing little blurbs of the modern life of Inukag and their kiddos. also i’m surprised some people ship Izayoi and Raiden as hard as i do anD I’M SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY ABOUT THAT THEY ARE MY BABIES AND I LOVE THEM I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY  

if some of you recognize the first half of this chapter and feel like you’ve read it before, it’s because you probably have. i posted the first half last year on Halloween and titled it “Haunted House” despite having not finished the series. I was originally going to just keep it as is, but then decided it wouldn’t be fair and anyway i wanted a proper ended for Izayoi and Rai, so i added onto it. i’m happy with how it turned out, despite it being a tad rushed because i just wanted this damn thing finished already lol.

anyway, thank you all for joining me on this adventure and for leaving all of your comments and reviews! i promise you i read all of your tags and reblogs and it truly does my heart good to know so many people enjoyed reading this story as much as i enjoyed writing it. ^_^

that’s enough rambling; ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, i present to you the last chapter of my series...

Spooktober Day 31: This Is Halloween 

Kagome had no idea what time it was when she turned over in bed with a grunt, her forehead scrunching into an irritated frown as she shifted into a more comfortable position then settled with a quiet sigh. Beside her Inuyasha sighed in his sleep and rolled up against her, his arm a pleasant warmth as it draped over her waist and he tucked his nose against the nape of her neck before going still once more.

She had no idea what had woken her up in the first place; snugly warm under the covers and cuddled against her husband quite nicely, Kagome should have been able to go back to sleep no problem but for some reason her mind was alert, refusing to give into the slumber creeping in on the edges, taunting her with sweet oblivion. The darkness of the room, Inuyasha’s steady breathing and the movement of his chest against her back should have been enough to lull her back to sleep, but for some reason her body would not give into her mind’s silent demands. It was as if her mind was subconsciously aware of something that her body was not and as such it would not be coaxed into that state of blessed ignorance.

Her frown deepened and she huffed quietly in annoyance; responding to her distress, even in his sleep, Inuyasha’s chest erupted with a soothing rumble and he maneuvered his arm beneath the blanket to reclaim its spot over her side and then press his hand against her bare belly. The familiar gesture sent warmth skittering across her skin and despite herself a fleeing, sleepy smile flickered at Kagome’s lips. It was one of his favorite things to do now that she was pregnant again and it didn’t surprise her at all that even in sleep he did it.

She went absolutely still, simply absorbing the feel of him against her, concentrating on his warmth, the sound of his even breathing, the pleasant roughness of his leg and chest hair against the smoothness of her skin, hoping to distract herself with the pleasing physical sensations enough to nod off again.

But no such luck; though she could feel the sleepiness pulling at the edges of her mind, it stubbornly refused to give in and Kagome’s frown returned, this time with a frustrated pout. Abruptly deciding she might as well see what time it was to gauge how much sleep she’d gotten thus far - and how much more she could sneak in - Kagome wrinkled her nose and cracked her eyes open just enough to peer at the blurry numbers on her alarm clock–

And screamed.

Inuyasha jolted awake with a startled gasp, shooting up in bed and blinking rapidly in order to clear his hazy vision as his mind struggled to come back online after very suddenly getting thrust into awareness.

“Huh–what–Kagome? What’s—?” Rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, Inuyasha turned his attention to his wife and found her sitting up in bed, clutching the blanket to her bare chest and staring wide-eyed at–

“Jesus! Fucking hell—!” Flailing in surprise, Inuyasha jerked back against the headboard in an instinctive reaction and slapped a hand against his chest over his rapidly beating heart.

“What the fuck–goddammit, Tai!”

Standing beside their bed, wearing his favorite Spiderman pajamas and the very detailed Halloween mask of the bloody skull of a skeleton that he’d begged his mother to buy for him at the store, their five year old said nothing as he peered at him through the meth openings of the eyes, looking every bit the spooky specter that he wanted to be for his favorite holiday.

Inuyasha and Kagome stared back, their eyes wide, wondering what the hell their son was doing standing at their bedside at five in the goddamn morning.

Tai was silent for another minute, before his slightly muffled voice reached their ears.

“…It’s Halloween.”

Then, as quietly as he’d apparently snuck into their room, the child slunk back out, leaving his parents in a state of “what the fuck just happened.”

A moment passed. Then their teenage daughter’s screech of, “Aaaahh! Ohmigod, Tai, you little freak! What are you doing?!” drifted down the hall and into their room. Tai’s gleeful cackling followed shortly thereafter and neither parent was surprised to hear Izayoi scramble out of bed and chase her laughing little brother though the house, tossing various threats of dismemberment and other creative jibes older sisters were known to torment their siblings with.

Finally over the initial shock, Kagome heaved a long sigh and slumped against the headboard while Inuyasha groaned and then slunk back under the covers with an annoyed grumble.

“Damn,” Kagome murmured and Inuyasha grunted. “Who the hell needs haunted houses and you wake up to that at five in the morning…”

A snort came from beneath the covers. “We can charge,” her husband opined, his voice gruff. “Pay for Izzy’s college tuition in a single night.”

Kagome snorted a laugh and slithered down to join her hanyou hubby under the covers. He slipped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her chest with a growling sigh and then they felt silent, wrapped in each other’s arms and listening to their children taunt and chase each other around the house in the wee hours of the morning.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome murmured a few moments later, drowsy, but unable to fall asleep as she distractedly rubbed her husband’s ears.

“Mm,” Inuyasha grunted, reveling in his wife’s blissful ministrations and struggling to stay awake to hear what she had to say.

“…You did buy all those Halloween decorations…” Her voice held an innocent lilt to it that had Inuyasha instantly grinning and his chest vibrating with a deep, husky chuckle.

“One condition,” he rumbled, his grin turning sly.

Kagome bit her lip to stifle her snickers. “And?”

“Tai and that damn mask are gonna be put to good use for waking us up at the ass crack of dawn and so’s Iz for saying she’s gonna rip off his arm and beat him with it.”

“Deal.”

“If you don’t stop fidgeting already, I’m gonna poke your eye and I won’t be sorry about it.”

“It feels weird.”

“I swear to god you’re the only girl I know of that complains about putting on makeup.”

“Bite me.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me for help, remember? So quit your whining and let me do this so you can impress your boyfriend. And stop glaring at me, it’s pinching your eyes and it’s gonna make me mess up and we’ll have to start all over again.”

“I hate you right now.”

“Love you too, cuz. Now stay still, will you? I’m almost done.”

Grumbling but because she’d rather not sit there for another half an hour while her cousin painted up her face to match her costume, Izayoi obliged and forced herself to remain still as Rin carefully added the finishing touches to her left eye. With her silver done and already donned in her costume, the only thing she had left to do was put on the hat after Rin was through and she was pretty anxious to see the complete look.

The party was set to begin in about twenty minutes or so and even from upstairs Izayoi could hear her mother order around her dad as they got everything ready. Her Aunt Sango and Uncle Miroku had arrived earlier to help as well and no doubt they were regretting that offer as Kagome flitted about agonizing over every little detail, stressing that it had to be perfect. She was pretty sure her mom had even put Tai to work, but last she knew it was something simple like preparing a cheese and cracker tray or picking up some of his toys to put away.

All in all Izayoi was glad she was pardoned from preparation duty so she could get ready. The instant they’d gotten home from school, she and Rin had bolted up the stairs to her room so they could change and prepare themselves, excited to wow their respective dates. They’d worked on Rin’s makeup first, Googling makeup tutorials and having fun experimenting with different shades and such. They settled on a simple design and coupled with the red wig and costume, Rin’s Sally looked positively stunning. Izayoi only hoped she’d look half as good as her best friend and cousin.

Then it was her turn, and by the time Izayoi was finishing styling her hair and changing into her costume, Rin had sat her down on the bed and set to work.

Now nearly thirty minutes later, Izayoi was starting to get antsy and a tad impatient. It really did feel weird to have makeup on. She’d never been one to care about her outward appearance and obsess over things other girls her age did. But still, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to see the result of actually putting thought into her appearance this time.

“Aaaand…done,” Rin finally announced and stepped back with a satisfied nod. Her smile was very proud and perhaps even a bit arrogant as she studied her handiwork. “Not half bad, if I do say so myself.”

With a muffled squeal of excitement Izayoi wasted no time in shooting up and darting over to the full-length mirror on her door. She took one look at her face and gasped, golden eyes going wide in absolute wonder.

“Oh my god, Rin,” she breathed as the aforementioned girl came strutting over to stand by her side, grinning widely as she slung an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “This is…this is amazing. You’re amazing. I love it!”

“You’re welcome,” Rin said lightly and was promptly tackled by the enthusiastic half-demon in a hug a gratitude.

“Thank you!” Izayoi gushed and Rin’s half-hearted “Hey, watch the makeup!” didn’t even faze as she pulled back to admire herself once more in the mirror. “Rin, you are a goddess.”

“I know,” her cousin quipped but with a smile as she crossed the room the grab the last item to complete her look. “And now, the finishing touch.”

Beaming, Izayoi met her half-way and allowed her human cousin and best friend to carefully set the brown velvet hat on top of her head. Her ears flicked from the minor constriction against them, but it was tolerable and if it got to be too annoying she could just take it off for a while, so she paid it not mind.

“Perfecto,” Rin said just as the door to her room opened.

“How are you doing, girls? Almost done?” Kagome asked as she poked her head inside. Her eyes landed on her daughter and she gasped in utter delight, smiling broadly as she opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside. Donned in a simple black long-sleeved shirt and black jeans, Kagome’s costume consisted of black cat ears and a tail with simple cat makeup on her face.

“Oh, Izzy, you look amazing,” she praised and the young half-demon beamed proudly. “And Rin, your Sally is spot on! I gotta say, your skills are stellar. The makeup looks like it was professionally done.”

Rin glowed at the praise and blushed, but her smile was very pleased. “Thanks, Auntie. It was easy, really. Just followed some YouTube tutorials. No biggie.” She shrugged, but it was obvious she really appreciated the compliment.

“Still,” Kagome said as she fished her phone from the pocket of her jeans, “well done. Alright, I have a picture of you two so I can show off to everybody at work. Say Happy Halloween, girls!”

With arms tossed over the others’ shoulders, the young cousins beamed and chorused, “Happy Halloween!”

Kagome snapped the picture, grinned in satisfaction, then beckoned them both over to her so show it to them and then quickly snap a picture of all three of them.

“Okay, the party’s about to start,” Kagome said after sending the photo to both her daughter and her husband. “Let’s get downstairs and show you two off!”

Giggling excitedly, the girls heeded the older woman’s words and scurried out of the bedroom, Kagome at their heels.

There were already a few guests milling about when they got downstairs, mainly people from Inuyasha and Kagome’s work, however a few family members had arrived as well. Rin happily waved to her parents from across the room and skipped over to greet them and to show off her own costume. Kagura had chosen a risqué witch costume while Sesshomaru merely had on a white t-shirt that said “This is my costume.”

Kagura gushed over the girls and praised her daughter’s makeup skills while Sesshomaru eyed his daughter’s costume for a bit before grunting in approval, satisfied that nothing inappropriate was showing. He nodded Izayoi’s way, approving her costume as well, and Izayoi knew it was just his way of showing his admiration so she merely beamed at him.

More people started arriving at the door and someone took it upon themselves to turn on some appropriately spooky music, but kept it at low volume in deference to the demons’ sensitive hearing. Pretty soon the dull roar of laughter and chatter filled the Taisho household as adults and children alike mingled and had a good time. Tai was running around with Sango’s and Miroku’s kids, wearing that bloody mask paired with the clothes he’d worn to school that morning. Whatever, as long as he was happy, is what Inuyasha had told his wife as she shook her head in exasperation.

Shippou and his parents were there, dressed as The Incredibles, and Kikyou along with her husband Suikotsu had arrived as Gambit and Rogue. Kouga and Ayame had opted for the Marvel route as well and showed up as Wolverine and Jean Grey. Daisuke was skulking about somewhere but he wasn’t dressed up, having been forced to accompany his parents.

Izayoi also spotted an Iron Man, the Joker, Penny Wise, various witches and princesses, characters from various horror movies, and even a toilet (???) and Kohaku and finally made an appearance making an excellent Jack from The Nightmare Before Christmas. He and Rin looked positively stunning together and many pictures had already been taken of them, however the one person Izayoi had been expecting to arrive with him, she still had seen neither hide nor hair of her crush.

Kohaku had waved off her inquiry about him, saying he just got held up and was probably on his way here right now, but Izayoi still couldn’t help but worry as anxiety gnawed at her tummy. Had he changed his mind? Oh god, what if he came to his senses and realized he could do much better than a silly little half-demon with a crush and an overprotective dad—

“Would you chill out?” Rin said, appearing at her side out of nowhere and thrusting a caramel apple in her cousin’s hand. “He’ll come, I’m sure of it. Kohaku said he just got held up.”

Worrying her bottom lip, Izayoi merely nodded and stared down at the dark screen of her phone. She’d refrained some blowing up his phone asking where he was because she didn’t want to be that girl, but she’d be lying if she said the thought wasn’t tempting. It was almost 6 pm and he still wasn’t there…what if something happened to him? Was he okay? Was he hurt? Oh god she needed to go and find him—

A pair of hands suddenly covered her eyes just as a familiar voice murmured behind her, “Guess who.”

Izayoi’s face split into the biggest smile Rin had ever seen and even through her makeup she could detect the pleased blush that colored the half-demon’s cheeks.

“Rai,” she whispered and the hands dropped, allowing her to spin around and lock eyes with her crush for the first time all night.

“I’m glad you made it,” she said and ignored Rin’s loud snort beside her. “I admit, I was…a little worried.” Rin snorted again and Izayoi not so subtly elbowed her cousin in the ribs.

Blue-green eyes glinted down at her but before Raiden could say anything Kohaku slung an arm around his neck with a jovial laugh and along with their friends started harassing him as boys often did. Raiden gave as good as he got, laughing with them and poking fun of their costumes while batting away the hands that poked at his own.

Izayoi waited patiently, amused, as Raiden fooled around with his friend and watched as he finally sent them off with high-fives and promises to track them down later. Rin dragged Kohaku off to do god knows what, sending her cousin a wink, and Izayoi blushed, but smiled in gratitude.

“So,” Raiden said at length and turned to face her fully, unabashedly looking her up and down to take in her costume. His face lit up in approval and he grinned, boldly reaching up to grab the trailing back of her hat and give it a gentle tug.

“You look…amazing, buttercup,” he complimented sincerely, enjoying the soft flush that painted her cheeks. “Did Rin do your makeup?” At her nod, he whistled low. “Nice. See? I told you we’d be the coolest couple here.”

He smirked and struck a pose, putting his hands on his hips and tossing his head as he puffed out his chest.

Izayoi laughed at how ridiculous he looked, her previous shyness evaporating under his easygoing air. What was it about him that made her feel so comfortable?

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she praised, taking in his matching costume. It was simple, and yet complimented her as well as suited him perfectly. He made some modifications, such as ripping the knees of the trousers and shortening the sleeves of the shirt, but she had to admit, he looked positively dashing. She loved the shoulder piece and hat, and those combat boots? Oh, be still, my heart!

“Why thank you, m’lady,” he rumbled, smirking as he held out his arm. “Now let’s get this show on the road. Shall we, fair maiden?”

Grinning broadly, pleased as punch, Izayoi tucked her arm into his and replied smoothly, “We shall, my good man.”

It was just after 10 pm and the party was finally starting to wind down. It was mainly family and close friends that were sticking around, chatting pleasantly and even offering to help clean up, but Kagome dismissed their kindness with a smile and said she’d just do it tomorrow. Tai, tuckered out from all the fun, the copious amount of cookies and other food he’d consumed, and the various games he’d played, lie fast asleep in his father’s arms who sat in the recliner, feeling a mite winded himself.

The teenagers had claimed the kitchen as their domain, joking around and laughing together, but at a much calmer level now that the hype of the party had died. They munched absently on leftover cookies and other treats, plastic cups full of soda or cider littering the counter tops.

Leaning against the counter with Raiden at her side, Izayoi couldn’t remember having so much fun before. She and Raiden had flirted and teased each other all night long, even holding hands once and she’d managed to sneak in a kiss to his cheek once or twice when her parents weren’t looking. She was on cloud-nine, pumped full of sugar, cider, and so much junk food she should be sick, but yet she unable to stop smiling.

Best Halloween ever, Izayoi thought with a dreamy sigh and then suddenly her hand was encased in warmth and she blinked. Looking down, her eyes widened to find that Raiden had taken her hand in his and her face erupted in color when he laced their fingers together.

He squeezed, and she looked up, a question on her tongue, but he put a finger to his lips and tugged as he jerked her his head, a wordless inquiry to follow him as he gently led her toward the sliding glass doors. Izayoi was utterly helpless and allowed him to drag her away, biting her lip to contain her giggles as they sneaked out into the deck and into the cool night.

From his location in the armchair, Inuyasha’s brows snapped low over his eyes as he watched that boy lead his daughter outside away from his eyesight and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Oh hell no.

Tightening his hold on Tai, meaning to carefully lay him on the couch and follow after the two teens, Inuyasha moved to stand up, but a small hand on his shoulder gave him pause and he snapped his gaze to his wife who was looking toward the kitchen with a knowing smile.

He growled. “Kagome—”

“Leave them be, Inuyasha,” she murmured and shifted her hand to soothingly rub his ear. “She’ll be fine. I’ve been watching them all night; Raiden is a good boy with a good head on his shoulders, and you know your daughter. She’s smart, and we both know she can take care of herself. We need to trust her, okay?”

Inuyasha’s ears pinned down against his head and he winced, however he did grudgingly sink back into the chair. It was obvious he was fighting to keep himself from following after them, amber eyes zeroed in on the sliding doors he could see from where he sat, and Kagome smiled in understanding.

Perching herself on the arm of the chair, Kagome racked her fingers through his hair and quietly mused aloud, “Do you remember when we were that age, Yash?”

She purposely used the nickname she’d frequently called him while they were in high school and as she predicted, her husband’s gaze darted back to hers in surprise.

“We used to sneak off all the time,” she reminded him and watched the emotions flit across his face as he remembered their teenage years. Slowly his expression softened and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he recalled their youth.

“We were young, and it was exciting,” Kagome continued, voice soft with fond recollection. “We broke the rules, caused mischief, didn’t care about anything but each other, and we had fun doing it. My high school years were some of the best years of my life, and it was because I had you to share them with me. Would you deny your daughter that same happiness, Yash?”

Inuyasha closed his eyes and sagged in defeat, releasing a drawn-out sigh of resignation. His wife, damn her, was right. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his daughter was a teenager now, and as such she was nearing that stage in her life where she was going to act out and do what she wanted, regardless what he or her mother said. He just hoped to god she wouldn’t be as rebellious as he’d been, but like Kagome said, he had to trust her. He knew his babygirl, knew she would stay out of trouble.

Didn’t stop him from worrying, though. She was his only daughter, his little girl; of course he was going to worry. But it looked like he’d just have to do it from afar now and let her make her own mistakes so she could learn from them, as hard as that was going to be.

“No,” he finally allowed, shaking his head. “No, of course I wouldn’t. I just…” He sighed again and stared beseechingly up at his wife, brow knit into a slight frown of consternation. “This is gonna suck, isn’t it?”

Kagome’s smile was equal parts sympathetic and resigned. “Majorly.”

Inuyasha groaned.

“Well,” his wife piped up and he cracked an eye open. “At least your hair is already silver so you don’t have to worry about going gray prematurely.”

“Not helping, wench.”

Sitting on the wooden platform of the swing set, hidden from prying eyes with the waxing moon praying witness to their secret interlude. It was a chilly but clear night, but neither teen minded the cold, content to sit in the dark with the moon’s silver brilliance shining down on them and enjoy one another’s company.

Raiden had yet to release Izayoi’s hand and she wasn’t complaining at all. He was warm and smelled nice and Izayoi thought that maybe life couldn’t get any better right at that moment. She tried not to think about how mad her parents were going to be when they discovered she’d sneaked outside with a boy, and with Raiden there casting her tiny grins and squeezing her hand every so often, it wasn’t too hard.

“Sorry for stealing you away like this,” Raiden said, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle. “It was sort of a…spur of the moment thing. I hope you won’t get in trouble.”

Even if she did, it would be soo worth it. “It’s okay,” she said, smiling as a soft blush tinted her cheeks. “I don’t mind. And even if I do…” She shrugged and spoke her thoughts out loud, “It’d be worth it.”

Raiden grinned. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she returned and they shared a quiet laugh.

“I did sort of have a reason for bringing you out here,” he admitted a mite sheepishly, using his free hand to rub the back of his neck as he averted his gaze.

Izayoi tilted her head and regarded him curiously, a patient half-smile curling her lips upward.

“What’s that?” she asked lightly even as her heart pounded in her chest, not daring to hope…

“Uh, er, w-well,” he began, coughing into his hand, and Izayoi realized with slight astonishment that he was flustered. She’d never seen him be anything other than cool, calm, and confident, and she had to admit, she sort of liked it. It was adorable and he was actually blushing!

Fighting back a smile, Izayoi swallowed the giggle that bubbled up and waited for him to regain his bearings, if not a bit impatiently. She didn’t want to jump the gun of course, or jump to conclusions, but if he wanted to be alone to ask her something…

Sucking in a bracing breath, Raiden nodded to himself, hardened his resolved, and faced the pretty half-demon that he’d had a crush on for the better part of a year now. He gave her his best charming smile and enjoyed the becoming blush that stole across her cheeks.

Encouraged, he squeezed her hand and began, “Izayoi, I..uh…” He sighed, groaned, and then decided to just go for it.

“Ah, screw it. Izayoi Taisho, I like you,” he finally admitted and he could clearly hear the way her breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened. “And I, uh, I hope you like me too—”

“I do!” Izayoi blurted before promptly blushing so hard her face rivaled that of a tomato.

And just like that Raiden’s confidence was restored, the tension in his shoulders melting away and it was suddenly easier to breath. He grinned at her and squeezed her hand, shifting around and angling his body so he faced her.

“Yeah?” he said and though she refused to look him in the eye, Izayoi jerked her head in a curt nod and he felt like he could, like, lift a freaking house or something.

“Well then,” he started and reached over to gently tug on one of her braids to draw her attention. There was a pause, and then Izayoi slowly turned her head, pretty sunshine eyes locking with his blue-green ones.

“What do you say we go out this weekend? Just you and me, like a real date. Please say yes,” Raiden beseeched, his smile easy-going and entirely too charming for her little heart to handle.

Like she was going to say no? Heart pounding, face five different shades of red and her belly rioting with millions of butterflies, Izayoi allowed the utter delighted smile to surface on her face as her eyes lit up in absolute pleasure.

“Yes,” she whispered and had to laugh when Raiden made a fist and jerked his arm back with a hissed, “Score!”

Utterly elated, Izayoi resisted the urge to bounce up and down in exhalation as she confessed, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted—”

Fleeing warmth and softness brushing against her lips so fast she thought she imagined it had Izayoi’s thoughts coming to a screeching halt. She gasped, hand flying up to flutter her fingertips across her lips and her eyes were very wide as Raiden pulled back to reveal a face that was nearly as red as hers.

“Sorry,” he muttered, wincing a little as he dropped his gaze. “I just…you just looked really cute, and I’ve kinda wanted to do that for a while, and well—”

Something warm and soft pressed against his cheek, close to his mouth, and Raiden sucked in a sharp breath as his heart stuttered in his chest. He swung wide eyes his crush’s way and watched as she bit her lip but didn’t avert her gaze, giving a shy but genuine smile that made him want to hug her and protect her at all costs.

While definitely not as brave as he’d been to kiss him on the lips, Izayoi couldn’t help but to return the affectionate gesture, both as a reassurance and because…well…he’d just looked too darn cute all flustered and blushing. She was still reeling from having gotten her very first kiss and her heart was pounding a mile a minute, but she could honestly say she didn’t regret it one single bit.

The two teenagers simply stared at one another for a silent minute, blinking and absorbing what had just happened. And then simultaneously they erupted into a quiet laughter, snickers and giggles echoing into the night. Feeling bold, Izayoi scooted closer to him and pressed her side against his; Raiden retaliated by removing his hand from hers and instead slinging his arm around her shoulders to tug her even closer.

“You wanna go inside?” he asked, frowning slightly as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Her skin was cold and he felt stupid for bringing her out here when it was so chilly out.

“Mmm…” Biting her lip, Izayoi glanced over her shoulder toward the deck and the sliding doors that led into the kitchen. She was somehow not at all surprised to find their friends pressed up against the glass, grinning from ear to ear as they spied on them. Rin, the brat, wasn’t even ashamed to be caught, waving at them from under Kohaku’s arm and Izayoi stuck her tongue out at her, though she smiled right after.

“On second thought,” Raiden drawled and a quick glance revealed he too was staring at their annoying friends, “maybe we could stay out here a little longer.”

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, dismissing their friends and turning away just in time to miss the sight of her mother shooing away the teenagers crowded against the doors, shooting them a secret smile before walking away and dragging her protesting husband with her.

“Happy Halloween, buttercup,” Raiden murmured and dropped a kiss to her head, right between her adorable ears.

Sighing in utter contentment, warm despite the chill in the air and the happiest she could ever remember being, Izayoi smiled and dropped her head to rest on his shoulder, oblivious to everything but him.

“Happy Halloween, Raiden.”

a;kjfad i was in such a rush to get this done i forgot to add links to Izayoi’s makeup and costume, along with Raiden’s getup. whoops.

Izayoi’s Costume (though it’s more kid friendly in the fic of course)

Izayoi’s makeup

Raiden’s costume

[cardandpixel]

9 Board Game YouTubers I Follow & Why (plus a few others)

In the literal dim and distant past when I started boardgaming (honestly, the biggest threat was tallow wax on your board), the internet was still accessed by whatever IP address you could remember off the top of your head (there’s no place like 127.0.0.1 as they sayI) - and the only TikTok was the clock ticking, waiting for half of Louise Nurding’s left leg to download only to realise it was Anne Widdecombe and you’d hit the wrong link on a BB. Boardgames had some quiet and shady corners of the internet, in those same Bulletin Boards, there was one for HeroQuest and Space Crusade when they came out. But sadly, if you wanted to see a boardgame being played or learn the rules, you either had to go round to your friend Tim’s house where he had a new chits-for-days wargame going, or sit down and actually read the rulebook yourself. As a result, I bought some interesting games in my time, including a game called Operation Overlord - a mighty chit-tastic WW2 N African campaign monster that I bought in desperation from the Games Workshop in Manchester on the first morning that it opened in 1979 (?) as we were so far back in the queue that there wasn’t a space marine to be had for miles. But now, we have a plethora of kindly folk available on our blistering shiny Windows NT 486sx machines to inform and delight us in full 8-bit glory. Everything from reviews, buying guides, rules tutorials and even painting & crafting guides, we can be bathing in just about whatever aspect of board or wargaming we so desire in an effort to stave off the clattering realisation that it’s been over 3 months since we spent any quality time with another breathing soul outside our houses. The question gets frequently asked on boardgame FaceAche forums “What YouTube channels are worth my time and why?” so in an effort to throw my own towel into that controversial ring, here’s my pick of probably 9ish, maybe more by the end, but let’s start with 9 in no particular order..... 1) 3 MINUTE BOARDGAMES

One of the first board games ‘er across the table (TM) and I bought together was a copy of Gloom from a little games and comic shop halfway round the world in Hamilton NZ, Mark 1 Comics. As we were achingly close to moving to NZ a few years ago, we’ve kept up with many aspects of what might have been our life over there, so it was a delight to discover Jarrod (and now Stephanie) on YouTube, a friendly and familiar accent reviewing board games. But it’s not just the NZ vibe that I love, Jarrod does a great job of cutting thru the hyperbole and bloat often associated with trying to keep YouTube vids ‘long for the algorithm’ (ugh) and just gives very pragmatic reasons for a game either joining or leaving his collection. He has a great approach, and it’s nice to see him finally on camera instead of the disembodied voice. Great reviewer, and Stephanie is utterly hilarious. 2) THE BROTHERS MURPH

Mike & Nick are two of the most engaging brothers on YouTube let alone just in the boardgaming community. Their series on thrift shop finds has dredged up some hilarious and often tragic specimens from the grand days of Palitoy, MB and Parker Games.  They are also masters at ‘speed reviewing’ often piling reviews of 50 or 60 games into the same number of minutes. I think I favour the ‘don’t outstay your welcome’ approach to YouTube in general, and the Brothers Murph are at great ease with this philosophy and yet they take on simple party games thru to the heaviest euros with the same distillation equipment, and yet their reviews are never trivial or throw away. We had the chance to chat to Nick at Airecon this year and he was a lovely guy, slightly blown away by the fact that people liked his channel. He’s also an awesome artist too.

3) ACTUALOL

There are many reviewers on the web who have cost me a fair amount of money, the worst being Zee Garcia, however, a close second is Jon Purkiss aka Actualol. Jon has a terrifying gift for finding games, and especially ridiculously affordable games, that I buy on spec and then end up absolutely loving. Jon has a light and breezy style which is instantly engaging - I also really want his comfy chair (surely in exchange for a nice review on here Jon???). His videos are tidy and concise and yet still convey a deep enthusiasm and joy for games. His reviews very clearly portray what the setting of the game is and what you’ll be doing, without getting embroilled in the rules. He always has great footage of the game on the table (please reviewers - look at the ratio of your face to the game you’re talking about - less than 10% game and i’m walkin’) and often favours the less pricey end of the market which suits me fine. Brilliant games I love thanks to Jon include: Second Chance, Magic Maze and Ninja Academy

4) OUR FAMILY PLAYS GAMES

There’s not much to be said about Mik & Starla Fitch that cannot be gained from watching a mere 3-4 minutes of their channel. For sheer exuberance aimed squarely at a love for bringing families together via our glorious hobby, you cannot top these guys. If you are ever - EVER - feeling slightly lacklustre about gaming or losing your mojo for whatever reason - heck if you are just feeling slightly down, treat yourself to 10 minutes in the company of these two excellent human beings. Their reviews and playthru’s have all the humanity you need in a game and after five minutes you are thinking “Is the US too far to go just for a gaming evening?” We’d both utterly love to sit across the table from these lovely people and just play, and I can’t say that about every reviewer, I’ll be honest. Their reviews are often centred around unloved classics (watch their vid dedicated to why they love Catan as an example - you’ll be clicking Buy Now before your know it) and also some great quirky unknowns that I’m trying to hunt down even now. They’ve just had a brilliant couple of boosts from both a spot of Good Morning America recently, and becoming reviewers for the mighty Dice Tower. I’m immensely grateful for a tweet by Rodney Smith for pointing me in their direction, my social media is a much brighter place with the Fitch family in it.

5) RAHDO RUNS THROUGH

“Heeeeey Everybody”. One of the first board game reviewers I ever caught on YouTube was the inimitable Richard Ham aka Rahdo. And I’m so glad I did. I would genuinely never sit down and try and learn a game from one of Rahdo’s playthrus, they are what I imagine being in a wind tunnel full of 50 tonnes of feathers is like. BUT and this is crucial - if I want an idea of what a game is going to feel like to play, there is no finer deliverer of the remote game experience than Mr Richard Ham. His unique ability to explain how a game is going to work, turn by turn; the decisions you will make; the things you’ll have to consider; the short and long term goals; are all brilliantly covered in one of Rahdo’s videos. His ability to make different choices for his ‘ghost partner’ Jen (who does exist in real life, we have bought jewelry off her, she’s lovely) also adds a real dynamism to the games, showcasing the flexibility in a design for different play strategies. Rahdo tends towards 2 player games and usually at the heavier end of the scale, but if there’s a game you are thinking of buying, check Mr Ham out first! 

6) WATCH IT PLAYED

It’s often been said that Canadians are some of the politest folk on the planet, but when it comes to ranking Canadians, well, I’m sure they’d be too humble to rank each other so I’ll have to. Rodney Smith is the loveliest man in the world. There, end of article. But it’s true. We’ve been watching Rodney since we first got confused about the rules for Mice & Mystics (which we still got wrong but that wasn’t Rodney’s fault) and his ever chirpy, ever positive approach to his rules rundowns is utterly remarkable and frankly, enviable. And it’s his attention to detail and clarity for explaining rules that have rightly made Rodney one of the most important resources in the gaming hobby. If you have ever struggled over a rulebook and haven’t raced to Watch It Played, I will guarantee you will have spent far longer on that rulebook and lost way more hair than you ever needed to. We had the great honour of playing Rajas of the Ganges with Rodney at Airecon in 2019, and I mugged up on the rules sooo much. Regular imbibers of this rag will know my sloth for reading rulebooks is legendary but fortunately ‘er across the table (TM) loves them. But, for the 3 days running up to our trip to Harrogate, I did nothing but read that rulebook - this was THE Rodney Smith, you can’t get a rule wrong with Rodney. But of course, nerves kicked in and I could barely remember the rules of Snap, but the nicest man in the world could not have been nicer. Really, quantum mechanics has proved it. He was just the same man off the computer telly. Funny, engaging, warm and happy to chat as well as play (which I was also really nervous about doing!), if you don’t watch Rodney, are you really internetting?

7) TABLETOP MINIONS

“Pachow” From boardgames to wargames. As well as my slight addiction to cardboard, my other opiate overlord is 28mm plastic miniatures. Specifically those involved in tabletop skirmish games like Malifaux, 7TV, Fallout Wasteland Warfare, GuildBall and a smattering of others. Though recently more focused on the frankly insane amount of content being released by Games Workshop, Tabletop Minions is presented by the splendid Uncle Atom. (In fact, I identify his content so much as Uncle Atom’s stuff that I honestly had to double check the name of the channel for this article!). My plastic habit uncle (sounds so wrong, but so true) has possibly the gentlest delivery of anyone on the internet. It’s not so much content, as therapy. I know the net is awash with AMSR channels at the mo, but if you don’t want to listen to some overmonetized southern californian with some bubble wrap and a large capsule condenser mic, just hop over to TTM and listen to the Uncle for 5 minutes. He’s like a soothing bubble bath of content about painting figures, philosophy of the hobby, general art & design principles, and great life advice. He also wears a fez.

8) GIRL PAINTING

“Hello Tchoobies!” I painted my first 28mm figure when i was about 12ish - it was, ironically, a space marine of some sort - the old clunky Ral Partha ones. It looked terrible, but each model got a bit better till I stopped for some reason a few years later. When I got into Malifaux a few years ago (ie decades, several of them, later), I knew I was going to have to get back into painting; heaps of grey plastic does not a skirmish game make. (Little did I know I would have to revisit my microscopy days either when assembling damn Bayou Gremlins!)  Two channels were recommended to me, the Esoteric Order of Gamers (more later) and Girl Painting. EOG put me on the path to believing I could paint again, but Alexandra at Girl Painting actually made me believe I could learn to do it well. GP’s approach to painting figures, terrain and vehicles is based on solid art theory. Her explanation of colour relationships and the colour wheel is something I can quote to this day. All of the techniques that I lean on so heavily in day to day painting both for table and display I learnt from Girl Painting. Correct use of washes, wet blending,  non-metallic metals, shading, drybrushing, highlighting, model reading, all of it from studying intently, often with a brush actually in my hand while watching the channel. I cannot recommend GP enough if you want to put paint to plastic. Whatever your ability, you will learn something from this hidden gem of a channel.

9) ESOTERIC ORDER OF GAMERS

Another dang fine antipodean and another slightly unusual channel. I have a terrible, terrible memory when it comes to rules. In our early days, we also had a a lot of games with seemingly very over-bloated rulebooks - FFG games basically. I suddenly realised what I wanted was to lift the lid of a box and find in the lid, a summary of the important stuff i needed to remember about the game. Apparently I was not the only one. In 2013 a chap known as Universal Head started publishing an amazing series of rules summaries which condensed down some of the bloatiest rulesbooks down to often one or 2 pages of A4. It was a (pardon the pun) gamechanger for me. I can’t count the number of games in our collection that have a friendly sheet of A4 now as the first thing you see when you open the box. They are brilliant. And he’s still doing it to this day. I would argue that the more useful leg to his activities is the website rather than YouTube channel, but his channel does have the aforementioned brilliant figure painting tutorials, unboxing videos and some crafting stuff. The website is definitely the place for the rules summaries and also a fantastic resource for build-it-yourself foamcore box inserts. Though Folded Space have now made box inserts pretty affordable, there’s still no feeling like the satisfaction of building your own, and I would argue that some of EoG’s designs actually make more sense than some of the Folded Space ones anyway. AND THE OTHER ONES (Who probably don’t really need the exposure, but hey, only 11 people probably read this so......)  Why aren’t these on the list above? Just because I wanted to highlight some of the more marginal channels above or more specialist rather than the pure reviewers. SHUT UP & SIT DOWN Possibly my favourite channel on YouTube, whose name sounds more like a menacing Yorkshire greeting than a boardgame channel. SU&SD seem to be a real Marmite issue on the board game communities. And I genuinely don’t understand it. Yes, their reviews are often really funny but honestly, if that’s all you take away then you are missing some amazingly detailed and thought provoking work. Quinns and crew’s reviews are some of the most measured and balanced reviews in the gameyverse. Their reasoning for the conclusions they come to are incredibly well thought through and often very surprising based on the tone of the rest of the review. They have steered me to some games I would never have looked twice at and steered me away from some very shiny games that I might have blown a lot of money on otherwise. Flagposting great alternatives is also a signature of their reviews, and that again has often lead me to some fantastic games. We don’t always agree (their recent review of 10 Oink Games was savage imho) but we always disagree for the right reasons. Again, I would argue their website is actually a better overall resource, especially their podcasts which are superb, but all their content is fantastic.

in a highly similar vein I would add NO PUN INCLUDED. Efka & Elaine produce some of the most thoughtful and intelligent boardgame review content today, and often for some of the deepest and most complex games. The joy of boardgaming is that it is highly subjective and there are lots of times when NPI like/dislike a game that I do/don’t, but they are engaging and warm enough as presenters to hit you with a gentle subtext that says “It’s ok - I know we like this game, we get that you don’t, it doesn’t make any of us bad people, just people y’know, have a sandwich with us”  Efka criticising a game reminds me of when Dennis Healey once described an argument with Geoffrey Howe as being ‘savaged by a dead sheep’, though not in the cynical manner of the original. The criticism is loaded with that crucial dose of ‘hear me out’ that is sadly lacking in 90% of all other reviewers out there. Efka & Elaine are no GoggleBox reviewers, they are the real deal - they genuinely understand how games work and why. The sheer moral turmoil that Efka expressed over the cultural issues in Rising Sun was some of the most thoughtful YouTube content I have ever seen. I just wanted to do a little shout out to Johannes & Sunniva at BOARD GAMING RAMBLINGS - I don’t have as much to say as they are relatively new on my radar, but I have really enjoyed their content so far and find them to be like one of those adorable gaming couples that you might see every once in a while at your gaming group and have a blast with, and then not see for months and go “Awh - I really miss Johannes & Sunniva - where’d they go?” that feeling, you know the one. Adorable, with a hint of the esoteric. Also, a quick but important mention to the other titan of boardgame rules explanation that is Paul Grogan of GAMING RULES!. Like Rodney Smith, Paul is meticulous about rules explanation and is really clear and simple to follow, even for very heavy games, which Paul tends to do more of than Rodney, which is probably why I end up watching Paul slightly less, but certainly not for any less quality. Paul has such a reputation in the industry that he now works closely with many designers and publishers to help craft the best rulebooks around as a consultant. So that’s it - congrats for making it through folks. Didn’t think it was going to run this long, but turns out.... I quite like a lot of the YouTubers I watch - who knew? Until next time... happy gaming y’all.

[niallismymuse]

Chapter 1

At the sound of the alarm clock on her phone ringing obnoxiously, Tessa rolled over with a groan and grabbed it, pressing ‘stop’ quickly to get the incessant noise to cease. With a sigh of relief, she burrowed further under her covers and squinted up at the bright screen. Grumbling, she turned the brightness down and started to thumb through her notifications.

It was 9:01 AM and she had quite the to-do list to accomplish today. Some of it she was excited about – she had a video on the Shakespeare play Othelloto edit, and she was interested in really looking through the footage. It was part of a reading review series she had started a few months ago, in which she read a book or play or something similar, discussed it, and then poorly acted out a few of her favorite scenes. Unsurprisingly, it was a huge process, but mostly because she made it harder for herself by using accents when required andfinding clothing that would fit with the story. Luckily, she lived in LA, and there were costumes galore available. The series was well-liked on her channel though, making the whole process worth it.

She also had to answer some emails that involved sponsors and other work opportunities. Some of them she would delete after reading, and some of them she would respond to. God, she had so many emails.

Then there was the other thing she needed to do today: continue looking for a roommate. Tessa was really dragging her feet on this, and it was starting to affect her budget. She made a good amount of money, and she could definitely afford this apartment by herself, but it cut into her other funds. And besides, why would she need a two-bedroom apartment to herself?

She could always move out and into a smaller, cheaper apartment, but she was attached to this one. All of the little knick-knacks she had collected throughout her life were proudly displayed throughout it. Her bedroom was her haven, and damn if she didn’t like her natural-light kitchen. She and Jess had gotten solucky with it.

Speaking of Jess. Tessa opened up her messages and scrolled to find Jess’ name, and then clicked on the thread. Sure enough, nothing had changed – Jess still hadn’t answered her, despite the fact that it was a text that required an answer.

I still have a Christmas gift for you, want me to drop it off?Tessa had sent two days ago. It showed delivered underneath.

Jess wasn’t answering her. Tessa didn’t really know why. They had grown distant since Jess had moved in with Lyrica back in June, nearly seven months ago. She almost wondered if Lyr had been talking shit, but that wasn’t like her, and besides, Jess was the one who knew all of her dirty secrets.

It was like they were suddenly ten feet apart when, for all of their lives, they had been joined at the hip. It had started with Jess becoming ‘too busy’ and escalated to this. It sucked. Her feelings were hurt. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong – how could her best friend just drop her like this?

Tessa was ready to wallow in bed for another fifteen minutes, but another text suddenly came in, and her whole day brightened. It was from Niall. Niall Horan. The man she had met at Jess’ moving-in party, the pop-star celebrity…her friend. She and Niall were friends now.

She tapped to open it. Wanna get drinks tonight?The message read, and everythingin her stomach fluttered and flipped. She almost started to type out a message, but she restrained herself, not wanting to appear too quick to respond or anything else weird according to today’s social standards.

Yes, she was into Niall. That alsosucked, because as far as she could tell, he didn’t like her back. He was just as friendly as he was the night they had met, and boydid she have it bad for him. It was a huge crush. She liked his smile. She liked his laugh. She liked the way he laughed and smiled often, and how his blue eyes twinkled whenever he looked at her. She liked how he always talked with his hands. She liked how he didn’t ever really seem to get angry, and she liked how passionate he was about music.

Tessa justlikedhim, and she had done everything she could to get rid of those pesky feelings. She had even hooked up with a guy at a bar a month ago, because, as they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. It was a risky move on her part, considering she made her living on the Internet and was bound to be recognized by certain people. And while the sex had been perfectly satisfactory, it hadn’t gotten her mind off of Niall.

In fact, it had made her wonder what it would have been like to have Niall’s hands roaming over her skin, and Niall’s lips on her neck. Usually she saved those daydreams for when she was very wine drunk, but, well.

With a scream of primal, pent-up lust, Tessa buried her face into her pillow. Apparently, it wasn’t just rum and coke that got her going.

After taking a few minutes to gather herself, she answered him, replying with, Of course! What time? Before forcing herself to set her phone aside and get out of bed. She wouldn’t get all of her shit done in time for drinks if she lazed about all day.

With a quick stretch, Tessa headed into the bathroom and showered under a cold stream of water, teeth chattering the whole time. Somewhat ironically, under the freezing spray, her thoughts turned back to Jess. Maybe everything would be worked out at the annual New Year’s trip in three days.

They had a tradition with their friends where, every year, they would all chip in and rent a cabin at Big Sur Campground and Cabins, inside Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. They would drink and laugh and go on the trails, the restaurants, cook, anything and everything. It was a huge amount of fun, and despite the current iciness between her and Jess, she was looking forward to the trip.

Maybe she would invite Niall along. Ryan was always complaining about being outnumbered by the women – it was her, Jess and Lyr, and their other friend Melody – and he still would be, but he wouldn’t be alone.

Deciding to be nice to herself now that her thoughts were off of Niall and those hands of his, Tessa turned the water to warm and finished her shower. After getting dressed in some lounging pants and a thin hoodie, she set herself up at her desk and checked her phone. Niall had suggested 6pm, and she responded with a thumbs up emoji before setting her phone aside and getting to work.

After browsing through her emails, Tessa focused on editing her video on Othello, and to take a break a few hours later, she made some lunch. After munching on a sandwich, she finished up her editing for the day, which left only minor clips to work on tomorrow.

And that, essentially, was Tessa’s day. It was pretty boring and slightly lonely, and she didn’t look into getting a new roommate, but at least she had the night out with Niall to look forward to. At around 5 she started getting ready, dressing in a pair of jeans that really made her ass pop out and a nice, deep red-colored blouse and some cute booties. Because it was winter, she grabbed a black coat that didn’t clash, though she might not need it since she lived in LA. She did a little bit of makeup – just foundation and powder, a touch of blush and highlight, and some mascara.

She used to not know how to do anyof that shit, which was what actually had propelled her towards YouTube. She had seen so many makeup tutorials on the website and decided to make an anti-tutorial – she titled it, ‘I Don’t Know How to Do This Stuff’, attempted to put on eyeshadow and eyeliner, and it went kind of viral. That was back when she was in college; and to this day, she still couldn’t use liquid or pencil eyeliner properly.

Tessa just wanted to look nice – she wanted Niall to see what he was missing, but not in a desperate way.

After checking the time, she hopped into her car and plugged the pub Niall had said he would meet her at into her maps app. It was a fifteen-minute ride, and she arrived at 5:56. Without waiting a second more, she headed into the bar with her coat on and her purse strewn over her shoulder.

It was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall type of place, she could tell right away. It had that sort of vibe – and it wastucked into a place she didn’t expect, actually behind a Trader Joe’s, which was oddly convenient. Sometimes shopping sucked and getting a drink to calm your nerves after wasn’t a bad idea.

Tessa spotted Niall right away; there was hardly anyone else in the bar, and her eyes had a tendency to gravitate towards him. He was dressed in light blue jeans with a navy button-down, buttoned most of the way up but exposing some of that dark chest hair that she sowanted to tug on. Was he trying to make her lose her mind?

Woah, Tessa,she thought to herself, rein it in, girl.

With a huge smile stretching her lips wide, Tessa maneuvered around tables to get to Niall. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up, and he hopped out of his chair and came to greet her. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her a tight squeeze, and she couldn’t help but hug him back, her hands coming to press tightly against his back.

“Tess! So lovely to see ya,” Niall grinned and pulled away, and she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the nickname. Tess. Maybe out of someone else’s mouth it would have bothered her, but coming from Niall, it just sounded right. “It’s been a while, love. I’m glad we can catch up.”

He gestured towards the booth he had claimed, tucked in towards the back corner, and she smiled and led the way back. “It’s so nice to see you,” she replied, trying her hardest not to sound like she was gushing.

In truth, it had been almost a month since she had seen him. He had gone home to London for Christmas, and had arrived back in town yesterday, she believed. It was nice to think she had been one of his top priorities upon coming back to LA. “How was London?” Tessa asked as she scooted inside of the booth, setting her purse down beside her. Niall sat across from her, bracing his arms on the table between them.

“Fuckin’ cold,” he grumbled, “London is cold as shit this time of year, which is why I’m back in LA.”

“Mm, I can imagine. Is it terrible that I find this weather to be kind of chilly?”

“You should travel to London and see how you feel about this weather once you come back.”

They both laughed, and after a few more minutes of conversation, Niall left to order some beers, Stella Artois for her and whatever the hell he was getting. Niall had taken the card she had forced into his hand to pay, but he had a habit of paying forher, so she had no idea if he would use it or not.

God. Tessa took a deep breath in and slowly pushed it out, trying to settle her nerves. She was oddly nervous. And pining for him long-distance was so different compared to pining for him when he was right here in front of her. She was trying her hardest to keep her cool, but he was hereand so good-looking and kind and funny that she didn’t know how she was going to handle it. Hopefully the beer would help; she had forgotten the allure he had on her in person.

Once Niall was back, he passed her a beer and her debit card, flashing her a smile and a wink that made her cheeks flush and told her that he had, in fact, bought her drink. “You fiend,” she mumbled as she tucked her card away, “gonna go get my own drinks from now on.”

Niall chuckled and took a drink of his beer, and Tessa did the same, praising whatever gods above that alcohol existed. She could use a nice buzz.

“Did ya have a nice Christmas?” he asked, eyes intently focused on her. Tessa found herself studying him in response, noticing the stubble that adorned his cheeks and jaw, and how his shirt brought out the blue in his eyes.

“I did,” she answered, taking another swig after tearing her eyes off of him, “it was nice, quiet. I visited my mom, made sure everyone in the family got their gifts. How about you?”

“Mine was a little less quiet. Might have gotten quite a bit drunk,” Niall muttered, coughing into his fist. “Ya know, the holidays just bring out the drunk old man in me. I was almost ready to go to bed at like, 8pm.”

Tessa laughed. “You and I are alike in our old age,” she teased, “I get wine in my hand, and then I’m ready to pass out in like two hours.”

Niall snorted. “Tess, you can just about drink me under the table. I don’t believe ya.”

She lifted her beer bottle up. “Ah yes, with beer and maybetequila, on a good day. But wine? That fucker knocks me out. AfterI get super wine-drunk, though. That’s typically when I watch my murder documentaries.”

His eyes widened. “Your what? Are ya tellin’ me that you get drunk and watch murder shows? Doesn’t that, like, freak you out?”

Tessa shook her head. “Nah. As previously mentioned, I watch them and promptly pass the fuck out. So, I’m good, Ni.” She grinned; she had never called him that before, but he had given her a nickname, so she felt it fair. And it felt good, too.

“Christ, Tess. You’re mental.”

The bar started to fill up as they laughed and bantered, catching up. The more drinks she got in her, the bolder she became. When Niall told a joke, she even laughed and placed her hand on his arm, the classic flirty move. He didn’t seem to mind at all, merely smiling at her, eyes crinkled up at the edges. She let her hand rest there for a moment before moving on – she knew how to do this. That guy she had hooked up with a month ago had stood zero chance against her charms.

“Ya know, Tess, whenever I don’t see you for a while, I go and binge some of my favorite videos of yours.” Niall admitted hours later. There was a mottled red to his face and neck – he was drunk. Not badly, but enough that she could tell, and she knew he was definitely feeling it.

But Tessa was drunk too. There was a buzz in her brain, and she was livingfor it.

“Aw,” she pouted out, “that’s so sweet. I can’t believe you even like my videos. They’re ridiculous.”

“They’re funny,” he countered. “You’re funny, Tess. I can’t imagine anyone disliking you or your videos.”

“I do have a few haters,” she said after thinking for a minute. “Wait, do you want to see the first hate comment I got? I screenshot it.” Without waiting for his response, Tessa dug her phone out of her purse and scrolled back in her photos, squinting at her screen. After about a minute of searching, she found it and tapped on it. “Here! Look at this beauty.”

It had been posted under her first video; she cackled to see it now and passed the phone over to Niall. It read ‘so a fat bitch doesn’t know how to put makeup on. What else is new? Get over yourself’. It was the funniest shit to her, and she couldn’t stop giggling as she took her phone back from Ni when he handed it to her, but when she looked at him, he wasn’t laughing with her.

In fact, he looked kind of sad. He was frowning, lashes lowered, like he was studying the table they were sitting at. “That’s mean. You’re not any of those things, Tess.”

She blinked in surprise, caught off guard by this sudden change of emotion. “No, Niall, I’m a bitch overall, a badass bitch in fact. And also, I believe I’m average sized, but whatever. It doesn’t bother me. People are going to say that they’re going to say. The most I can do is laugh and move on.”

“Good. Good, I’m glad, because ya certainly don’t deserve that sort of treatment.” The venom in Niall’s voice surprised her even more; he looked upset still, that frown further etched into the crevices of his face.

“Ni, what’s wrong? It doesn’t bother me, really. Drunk or sober.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand; a total Drunk Tessa move. But she wasn’t trying to flirt with him. She just wanted him to smile again and be happy. “I mean, you know this kind of hate. We both get it.”

He sighed and let her hold his hand, stroking his thumb over the top of hers. It made her shiver, in the best way. “I know. But that shit hurts too, especially when you’re young. I didn’t and don’t deserve it, and neither do you.” His voice was firm at the end, adamant. She could see how strongly he believed this in his eyes, felt it in the grip he had on her hand.

It felt like a moment where she could lean over and kiss him.

But she didn’t, and the moment broke when she smiled and murmured a quiet “thank you” and the conversation moved on.

Another hour later, and she was ready to call it. She called for an Uber on the app, and made sure Niall did the same, even though he protested. “You may be Irish, but it doesn’t make you immune to car crashes.” She had told him, and though sullen-looking, he had agreed and gotten one.

Hers came first, of course. Niall walked her out, and before she got inside the car, Tessa leaned in and wrapped him in another fierce hug. “I’ll see you again soon, yeah?” she asked, still not letting go.

Niall wrapped his arms back around her, rubbing her back gently. “Yeah, ‘course Tess. Ya know I love to see ya. Text me when you get home, okay?”

The concern in his voice made her heart melt, and before she could think twice about it, Tessa pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye, Niall.” She smiled softly at him and got into the car, leaving him looking half-stunned on the sidewalk.

As the car drove away, she could have sworn that he reached up and touched his cheek right where she had kissed it.

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[the-circles-of-life]

2018 Recap / 2019 Plans

2018 Recap

Hey all! I just want to say thank you to all of you who have supported me throughout 2018 (or even longer!) You've made my interview series The Circles of Life possible, highlighting stories from under-appreciated people and creatures all over the world.

You might have noticed that I wrapped up the project with the chicken post, but it's not the end of it. I want to compile everything into an ebook and distribute the stories even more, so that's on my short term to do list.

Anyway, I'm here to discuss what I've learned from doing a weekly project for an entire year.

—

This post was originally posted on my Patreon

What I liked:

Talking to people is always great. Especially when you listen to them talk to the thing they care about the most. Excitement is contagious.

It was a crash course in networking. I learned how to get behind the scenes, find people who actually know their thing, and learned the nature of different professions.

I achieved my goal of experimenting with different illustration styles weekly. It pushed me out of the comfort zone.

What I didn't like:

It took too much of my time to process each entry—from talking to contributors, compiling, editing, before finally illustrating. (Big thanks to my editor Katie here!) Not to mention I research a new illustration style weekly.

To make it worse, I jumped from one topic to another each week. I'm not always familiar with the subject, so I had to read from external sources to process the interview material.

The project was so reliant on people. My contributors were all great, but I learned that some professions often have unexpected hurdles that prevent people from getting back to me in time. I don't think this kind of project is sustainable in the long run.

What I want to continue:

Stories. I LOVE storytelling. But I'll find a way to make it less of a text-based chore and more visual.

Sticking to a visual format. Sometimes creativity works better with constraints.

So with all of this in mind, I'd like to talk about my future plans...

2019: Colors in Nature

Sticking to a theme

Instead of absorbing all sorts of knowledge, I want to stick to a general theme throughout the year so I can go deeper. My theme will be Colors in Nature, which I feel is a good starting point because:

It's broad. I can cover various topics from mimicry to bioluminescence to pigments.

It's "instagrammable." I'm trying to expand my reach to people outside of science. Otherwise I feel like I'd just be talking to my inner circle.

It helps me make better decisions in reconstructing fossil animals.

I'm also planning to travel locally for a few months to gather the photo references I need both for work and this project.

How this affects my Patreon feed

In addition to my upcoming travels, I'm trying to go for deeper, better quality content unlike in 2018 where I forced myself to just do a thing each week for practice. This means, my posts will likely be less regular until I can find a good rhythm I can keep. But I'll be sure to still post a few good things each month!

In addition, I'm planning to get rid of exclusivity. I deeply dislike paywalls in the first place and I believe education is needed more by people who can't afford it. By making all of my content public, I also wish that I could spend more time entertaining and educating people, instead of resizing and reformatting files for the highest bidders.

If you came here for the perks, I understand if you want to start enjoying my content for free. But if you're staying as a paying patron, I appreciate every bit of your support to make the world a little less sucky.

In the future, I might throw in hi-res wallpapers every now and then or tutorials that you'll get to see MUCH sooner than the rest of the world, but I won't promise anything for now!

Regardless of what you choose, thanks for sticking with me!

- @franzanth