#but WOOO. CHAPTER ONE OF EIGHT.

[anxiously-awaiting]

idk how people format this stuff but RAAAAH.

[purplephantomwolf]

Love in Motion

Chapter Four

Synopsis: Lydia gets a wrong number text from Lando Norris.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings for this chapter: None

Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Next Chapter: Chapter Five

Masterlist

April 9, 2022

12 am

     I yawn as I sit down in front of the tv to watch qualifying. I’ve got Luke and I’s chat open to send him messages about qualifying as it happens. Nothing happens for the first 16 minutes until I see Latifi’s car go spinning around. 

Me: OH MY GOD! What happened to Latifi??

     I watch as I see Lance Stroll’s car come up on screen. 

Me: He got tangled up with Lance Stroll??

    I watch the replay and see Stroll turn into Latifi. I hear his radio, blaming Latifi for the accident. 

Me: Lance motherfucking Stroll. How could he even think it was Latifi’s fault at all?? Outrageous.

     For the next 15 minutes, I stew in my anger at Stroll for blaming Latifi. 

Me: There’s just no way he can blame Latifi for this. He clearly saw him in his mirrors!

Me: And now Alex has a problem with his car! Williams is just not having a good day, damn. 

     Q2 goes by without any crashes, and by the time Q3 rolls around, I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. They flutter close for a second before I hear the commentators yell. My eyes fly open to see Fernando Alonso go into the barrier. “Oh my god!” I gasp, covering my mouth. 

Me: Fernando crashed too! He lost the hydraulics! 

Me: This is so sad. 

     After 12 minutes, Q3 gets going again. I yawn as qualifying comes to close. I grin as I see Lando finish P4.

Me: Wooo! Lando starts P4! Let’s go Lando!

     I shut off my tv once Max, Checo, and Charles start getting interviewed. I quickly crawl into bed and pass out. 

************************************************************************

Lando’s POV

     My performance coach, Jon, hands me my phone. “It kept going off during qualifying,” he says, eyes knit in confusion. 

     “Thanks, Jon,” I say, unlocking it. I grin when I see eight messages from Lydia. Jon’s eyebrows raise at my grin. “A friend was messaging me,” I answer his unspoken question. I go to our chat and read all of Lydia’s messages. I smile when I read her excited text about me starting P4. I shoot her back a message, hoping she’s still awake. 

Me: Yeah! The McLaren team is super happy for him. 

     I wait for a minute, but don’t get a response back. I internally pout, sad that Lydia didn’t respond. “Time to head to the media pen,” my press officer, Charlotte, says, appearing next time. 

    “Alright, alright. I’m coming,” I grumble, following her. I follow Charlotte to the media and stand in front of the first media team. 

************************************************************************

April 9, 2022

11 pm

Lydia’s POV

     I curl up on the couch as the cars finish the formation lap. I have my chat to Luke open so I can message him. The first lap goes quietly until Carlos spins. 

Me: OH! Carlos spins! He’s stuck in the gravel! Oh my! 

     My eyebrows knit as I see Lance comes into the pit for a second time under the safety car. “Interesting strategy to try to go to the end on one set of hard tires,” I mumble. I yawn as the safety car comes back into the pits and the race picks up again. I gasp as I see Sebastian go through the gravel, letting out a sigh when he doesn’t get beached. 

Me: What happened to Sebastian?? Why did he need to stop? 

Me: And there’s debris?? What happened?

Me: OH NO! He hit the wall!

Me: I’m not a big fan of one of the announcers. He’s just hating on Aston Martin and everyone who keeps making a mistake. 

     The safety car comes out again and after some laps under it, racing gets back under way. I groan when a stewards message pops up on my screen. “These are never fun to read,” I say. 

Me: How does Mick, Yuki, and Pierre all have safety car infringement investigations? How do you infringe on the safety car? 

Me: Also, what happened to Max?? Why did he need to stop the car??

Me: His car is on fire! Thank god they told him to stop the car. 

     I groan as another safety car period starts. “I just want to sleep,” I whine. The safety car only lasts two laps before racing starts again. “Oh thank goodness,” I sigh. Nothing else exciting happens during the race, leaving me to fight sleep. I wake up more when I hear that they’re on the last lap. I glance over at the order and grin when I see Lando finishing P5. 

Me: Lando got P5! Let’s gooooo! And Daniel got P6!

Me: But now it is time for me to pass out, so good night, Luke!

      I shut off the tv after the podium ceremony. I crawl into bed, falling asleep quickly. 

************************************************************************

Lando’s POV

     I slump down on the chair in my drivers room. I grab my phone, hoping for messages from Lydia. I grin when I see a string of messages from her. I read through them before replying. 

Me: Which announcer is it? And McLaren is very happy with the results. Have a good night, Lydia. 

     I’m still grinning when Daniel barges into the room. “Hey, we’re going out for drinks, you want to join?” He asks. He stops and squints at me. “Why are you grinning like a maniac?” He questions me. 

     “Just happy with our results,” I shrug. He hums, still squinting, like he doesn’t believe me. 

     “Well, we’re going out at 10 pm, if you want to join us,” Daniel says, before leaving the room. I decide to get ready to go back to the hotel to get ready for the night out. 

************************************************************************

2 am

     I’m sitting at the club next to Carlos, sipping on a drink, when my phone vibrates on the table. Lydia’s name flashes on the screen and I grin. “Who’s Lydia?” Carlos asks, looking from my phone to me. “Why are you grinning so big? Do you have a secret girlfriend?!” He gasps.

     “No, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend I made earlier this week,” I explain. 

     “But you like her?” He digs for more information. 

     “Lando likes who?” Max asks, as he slides into the booth, Daniel following him. The three of them are staring intently at me, awaiting my answer. 

     “I don’t like her,” I deny. 

     “Your smile when she sent you a message says otherwise,” Carlos points to my smile. 

     “Oh! Is she the reason you were grinning like a maniac in your drivers room today?!” Daniel asks. 

     “What? No! Maybe. Yes, yes she was,” I admit. They raise their eyebrows. Max gestures for me to continue. “Okay, so I ‘met’ her earlier this week,” I start, putting met in air quotes, “I was given the wrong number at a club earlier this week and it happened to be her number that I was given.”

     “You believe it’s actually a girl? Not someone lying to you?” Carlos questions. 

     “Yes, I believe her,” I’m quick to defend myself and Lydia. 

     “So, tell us about her!” Daniel exclaims, leaning forward. 

     “Well, she’s a college student in Minnesota, studying chemistry. She’d rather be a photographer though,” I start. “She’s a fan of mine, but this is her first season of being a fan. Her dream race is either Silverstone or COTA. She, uh, she doesn’t know she’s talking to me. She thinks she’s talking to some guy named Luke who’s an event manager for McLaren,” I admit. 

     All three pairs of eyebrows raise at the last statement. “Dude, she’s going to be pissed when she finds out she’s talking to you. Girls don’t like being lied to,” Max says. 

     “I know, I know. I just like talking to her, and I lied about who I was before I thought about it. But it’s going so well, so it’s too late to back out now,” I sigh. The three of them shake their heads at me. I gasp, realizing I’ve forgotten to respond to Lydia. I grab my phone to respond.

Lydia: Good morning, Luke!

Lydia: The commentator I don’t like is Will Buxton I think? I just hated how he was hating on everyone.

Me: Good morning, Lydia. I can see why you’d dislike that. 

     I glance up to see Max, Carlos, and Daniel all staring intently at me. “What?” I ask, confused. 

     “You just seem happy texting her,” Carlos says. 

     “I am. She’s a fun person to talk to,” I agree. I look down as my phone vibrates again. 

Lydia: Yeah. So how was your day?

Me: It was good! I’m out celebrating the good results from today. 

Lydia: Oh fun! I’ll leave you be then!

Me: No! Don’t go! I’ve been out for four hours already, so I’m heading home soon anyways. 

Lydia: Alright!

     I yawn, trying to convince the guys I’m tired. “I’m going to head out, I’m tired. Have a good night,” I say. I get a chorus of good nights from them, before I leave. I hail a cab and head back to the hotel, while talking to Lydia. 

Me: Did you sleep well?

Lydia: I did! I assume you’re heading to bed soon though?

Me: Yeah, I’m heading back to the hotel now, so in like 30 minutes I’ll be asleep. 

Lydia: Okay, sounds good! Are the clubs fun?

Me: They can be, depending on who and where you go. I tend to go with my close friends, so they’re fun.

Lydia: Alright, that sounds fun. 

Me: Yeah. 

Me: So, what’s your plan for today? 

Lydia: Well, do some homework, look for some jobs, play some video games. 

Me: That sounds like fun! Well, the video games part does. 

Lydia: It should be!

     I let myself into the hotel room, yawning as I get ready for bed. 

Me: I’ve made it back to the hotel and I’m exhausted so I’m going to head to bed. Have a good day, Lydia. 

Lydia: Okay! Have a good night, Luke. 

     I set my phone down on the nightstand and climb into bed, falling asleep quickly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @copper-boom @ironmaiden1313 @ophcelia

[thewakingcloak]

The State of Things Past

this post is mirrored from the Studio Spacefarer Patreon! please consider supporting me, and you’ll get access to devlog posts, gifs, and other info before the public!

Like I mentioned in my previous post, The Waking Cloak has been in development for eight years.

ProtoDungeon: Episode III has itself been in development for a few years, pretty much since 2019 (oooof). I've gotten plenty of questions about how the project is coming, as well as the occasional question of whether The Waking Cloak / ProtoDungeon is even alive at all at this point. Thank you for asking this. It means people are still interested in these games.

Okay, but still, what happened? Why are things taking so long? Well, this post is the first in the Christmas Carol series, in which the ~Ghost of Spacefarer Past~ appears to explain things (wooo spooky explanation sounds).

Progress has been made, very slowly, on ProtoDungeon: Episode III. I'd love to have done more, but, well… in the time since I released Episode II, we continued adjusting to parenthood for our first kid, went through the pandemic, had a second baby (who is now almost 3yo), and survived through a series of really difficult events, which culminated in a move to a new house in a new town and the start of a new chapter (but that last bit we'll save that for the Ghost of Christmas Present so he feels useful).

But yeah, it's been a rough ride. My wife and I are intentionally open about what's been going on. At the same time, the internet is an extremely public place, and I don't want to overshare, or worse, trigger anything for anyone, so I'll try to keep this list brief:

Two miscarriages (the first one was late term, and absolutely, brutally devastating)

The loss of our faith community due to the pandemic

Loss of job for my wife due to the pandemic (the pandemic was unkind to teachers)

Loss of a dream job prospect for my wife (same issue)

The great Texas freeze and power outage (us huddling under blankets in shifts through the night with our newborn infant (he's fine now!))

Severe, life-threatening post-partum and post-natal depression

Family covid and two-week cabin-fever quarantines (twice, despite being vaccinated and careful)

The death of my grandma (we were not able to attend her memorial due to aforementioned covid and living on the other side of the country)

Multiple heart attacks for my father despite his active and healthy lifestyle

Autoimmune disease scare for my wife (may still be a thing, just dormant?)

etc., etc., ad infinitum.

A lot of people have had things significantly worse, so this is definitely not an attempt to "compare griefs" as it were. This is just context for, no matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise, the fact that I didn't have the mental or emotional (or temporal) space for creativity. It was one thing after another, and we were just trying to keep our heads above water.

Even when we'd mostly recovered from the hits that just kept comin', we moved away from what my wife lovingly refers to as the "trauma house", and she started a teaching job at a brand-new school. Both were good things, but they were pretty big transitions, and it takes time for the ol' brains to adjust. We love our new home now and have a bit more breathing room.

Okay but also I HAVE been working on ProtoDungeon. Dev was really sporadic, but it did happen. The next post will have more detail on the status of Episode III, but there were kind of two big things I worked on during the past three years, big shifts in the foundation of ProtoDungeon and The Waking Cloak.

First, I switched game perspective. I made a few posts about this a while back, but PD/TWC interiors were originally like Zelda interiors (where you see the insides of all four walls). There are good reasons to do this, but it was also kinda making me crazy. So I switched to a more natural front-perspective, keeping things consistent with the exteriors. It definitely was the right choice for the game I wanted to build, but it took time.

Second, and building on that, I made the game fully faux-3D. You can walk behind or in front of stuff--not something the old Zelda games did, and still pretty rare for 2D games. I was toying with the idea for a long time, but I played through an old PlayStation title, Alundra, and that convinced me it could be done. It's way harder than you might expect, and it was a massive block for me for literally years. I was able to slowly work my way past it and finally resolved it with a 3D z-tilting method, but dev slowed to a crawl.

And that's it for now! The ghost releases you from your vision of Spacefarer Past….

Thanks for reading :)

[dawsmark]

The Hot Box -- Chapter 1

I’m sooo horny right now. 

The Wizards were getting their asses kicked. There was no need to watch the basketball game any further.  So, dick hard as a rock, I reached for the phone and called Deanna. 

It’s been a while since I’d seen her.  The last time I had, I had her pinned against the wall inside of Room 419 of the Sheraton Blue, her legs wrapped around my waist.  She had asked for us to see each other exclusively, but as fine as she was, a sex goddess on so many levels, I just couldn’t yet commit. 

Further, I needed to ask her about something.  

Something I found out earlier this week.

The phone rang six times before she  answered. “Hello?”  

“Hey, knockout,” I whispered. She took in a breath.  I chuckled inside.  “What’re you up to?”

“Nothing.”  She sounded like a sweet bird.

“Nothing, huh?  Same here.”  The fierce autumn wind rattled my window.  “I was thinking maybe, you know, if I could come—" 

“Yes.  All over me.”

Damn that was quick.

I laughed out loud.  She did too. 

“See you in a bit,” I said, and hung up.

I sprang from the couch, and headed straight for the shower. I stripped down in front of the mirror and was a little shocked at how solid my muscles were looking.  For the past eight weeks, I had been training for the Maryland Physique Pro and the diet I was on was finally working its magic.  Last checked, my bodyfat was around twelve percent, but according to some, I needed to come down another four if I wanted to place, another six if I wanted to win.  Everyone said this one was going to be mine, that I was robbed at the last show, and I couldn’t agree with them more. 

Politics.

Having done this for the past three years, I’ve become numb to it.  That, and the scrutiny.  To the average person on the street, I’m a stud. But on stage, with dozens of other guys who think they’re studs too, eyes are like hawks.  Judges really zero in on your flaws: from the way you stand, to the shape of the teardrop in your quads, to the separation between your pecs. 

For a long time, it was hard being told you ain’t shit, you don’t measure up.  They’d say you need more balance in your back (like, what the fuck?) or you need to come in with more conditioning (what the hell does that mean?).  You just want to go down to the judges' table and flip that motherfucker over. 

So why do I do this?  Why did I put myself under such scrutiny?

Because I loved this shit.  If I get it right, the little details that others don’t see, I’d be perfect. 

I mean, I already got the perfect dick, why not the body to go with it?

Yeah…

My dick.

There it was.  Long. Thick. Straight as a sword. With a mind and face of its own, waiting to dive into Deanna’s hot box.  

I kept my hands away, because the last thing I wanted was to be drained senseless before actually feeling warm woman skin.   As quick as I could, I stepped under a cold shower.

Beads of ice water hit my body like bullets, subsiding the beast within, and turning the water to temperature to hot, I was able to lather, wipe and scrub soap all over me in lascivious-free peace.

Ten minutes later and feeling steam-fresh, I strutted to my bedroom like Ric Flair. 

Crazy Ric Flair. 

My daddy put me on to him when I was little.  If you want to be the man, you got to beat the man.  I’m a high-flying, limousine-riding, diamond-wearing son-of-a-gun!  Wooo!

I slipped into some sweatpants, no underwear, hoping to give Deanna a treat.  I love the way her eyes slides down to the bulge while I’m trying to have a conversation with her; Me standing there acting like, what’re you looking at?

I put on my shirt and kicks, grabbed my phone and keys and headed out the door.

Life sure was good.

Last week, Allison.  Week before, Lindsey.  This week, Deanna.

“Heyyy, Kevin,” as soon as I got out the door.  It was Ms. Howard sashaying from across the street. The leaves flew up from the pavement and swirled around her as she came.  I couldn’t get to my truck fast enough. She caught me just before I could put the vehicle into drive. 

“Hey, Ms. Howard, how you doing?”

“Hm.  Why you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m some sort of a disease?”

Ms. Howard was fifty-plus, my aunt’s age, with long Jamaican locs and strands of gray around the ears.  Her earrings were large and plastic in the shape of African dancers.  She made mad bank working for Lockheed Martin but couldn’t keep a man for shit.  Her husband, a downtown tort lawyer, left her a long time ago. 

It was obvious she wanted me to give her the D, but I wasn’t doing it.  Nope.  No way.  Nada. 

She darted her eyes over my upper body, “Wanted to know if you’d like to come to my barbecue this weekend.  My grandson’s football team made it to States so we’re gonna party.  He’d love to see you again.”

I hated that li’l nigga.  I believe he stole one of my rings that time I had him over my house, trying to be a mentor and shit.                                                                     

“Me?  Why?”

“’You know why.  How often does a young man get to actually be around a pro football player.”

“I only did two seasons.”

“Two more than anybody I know.  And him either.  You could’ve been a benchwarmer for all he cares.”

And I thought, Really?  Because last time I remember, he called me a scrub, kept throwing my stats up in my face, and kept comparing me to Devin Jones, one of the best D-backs in the league.

“Um…let me get back to you.” 

“Get back?”  She playfully gave me side eye.  “Uh-huh…”

“Don’t do that, Ms. Howard.  Please don’t do that, I know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?”

“That I’m too good for y’all.”

“I ain’t say nothing.”

“You don’t have to say nothing.”

“Well…Are you? Big-time football player too important to hang out with us colored folks anymore?”

“Come on now, Ms. Howard.  You know I like that corn bread, sweet potato pie and ribs you be making.”

“Yeah, right.  Never no time for us.  Where you off to this time?  To see one of your little white girls?”

“Now, now, Ms. Howard, you know it’s not like that.  Look, I got to go.”

She sucked her teeth. “Gone then,” and let me get on my way.  But not before she reached out to touch my bicep I had hanging in the window.  She gave it a delicate squeeze.  My eyes followed her hand and then lifted back to her with a silent, What are you doing?  Sensing she went too far, her hand slid off.

She said, “You better come.  If you don’t, I’m coming over here and drag you over.”

“I hear you,” I said, and drove off, giving her the peace sign.

She called after me, “Saturday. 5 o’clock.”

I beeped the horn.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw her sashay back to her side of the street.  I then turned on some music and looked to the bleak October sky.

…I wasn’t going to her raggedy cookout.

[foxys-fantasy-tales]

Writeblr Re-Introduction

I never did this quite right the first time. Get ready, cause this may be a long one. May be oversharing, but hey no character limit and I feel like being super in depth in my soon to be pinned post is on brand. -Ahem-

Hello! You can call me Denise. I use she/her pronouns and I am 32 years old (ancient for Tumblr, I know) with a love for writing fantasy and romance with a lot of dark elements and intrigue. My characters can be messy and sweet and that makes them good to me. I have a lot of bad things happen to my characters, but I like a triumphant tale in the end where at least most people are happy or things turn out alright. I really have fallen for each and every one of my characters and feel the world in general needs some hope in conflict. I am bisexual/biromantic, demisexual/demiromantic, and polyamorous, so a lot of my characters are queer in some fashion. I love writing demi characters and polyam relationships the most so far, though it's taking a bit of build-up to get my first series to that point. My partner (married) is non-binary and I have trans and token cis-het friends and more, so I feel I have a good group helping and reading my books so that my characters come off the page as they should, even if I'm writing a label not my own. I'm also disabled, and in two of my three current projects there is a disabled character present. I only found this out a few years ago, slightly before the pandemic (wooo) and I still have no idea what's causing most of my issues even though doctors have proven something is wrong. I may have an undiagnosable condition with no name yet, so please be patient if I'm not quick to respond or post a lot. I have chronic pain, fatigue, GI issues, and migraines. Going to rattle off some ending facts about myself here. I love playing DnD and have an over two year campaign ongoing right now where I play a sorcerer. I adore cosplaying when I can afford it. I'm addicted to Final Fantasy 14. I still play Pokemon. I have been watching anime since I was about eight years old, which was at the same time I began writing my own stories, so I've been in this for a while now. I hope to always keep improving. I have a BA in English with emphasis in Creative Writing, and though it hasn't served in finding me gainful employment, I hope it helps me in entertaining with my words, which is what I always longed for anyway. All of my works have dark themes, and if you buy my books there will always be a specific trigger warning section in the front so you can make an informed decision. So with that out there, let's talk about my works!

Published Works

Arigale: Spite in the Spirit (Aug. 2021)

Status: Complete and Published

Genres: Epic fantasy, Romance, Action and Adventure Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Around 170k words

(gray morality, friends to lovers, exploring a new world, critique on religious extremes, multiple ships to sail, magic galore and a practical armory, apparently a hot villain, LGBTQIA+ Rep (still building on in book two), found family, humor and at times dark humor, Multiple POV ensemble cast)

Judith and Chit are called to the lonely tower outside their city with little explanation. The one who summoned them is an old, elven wizard named Maleth, who will send them on a quest to lower their floating city of Arigale to where it once resided. Maleth is intrigued by Judith’s strange form of necromantic magic, yet he is also certain of the anxious young man in training to be a spearman and scholar.

Judith, a bubbly yet mysterious young woman, is eager to accept. Chit remains withdrawn and cautious, a remnant of being raised by the Order that presides over their land. Soon, both discover their meeting with the wizard carried dire consequences. Can they accomplish what has been asked of them and save Arigale by exploring the land below, no matter the lengths they must go to?

Available at: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Indiebound, and Kobo.

First five chapters are available here on Tumblr for preview! Chapter One - Bonds Chapter Two - Blood Chapter Three - Beseeched Chapter Four - Brazen Chapter Five - Betwixt

I also have a book trailer for this one on Youtube and Tiktok.

Works In Progress

Arigale: Bond in the Blood (WIP)

Aesthetic placeholder for now. The cover is in progress!

(Many of the same tropes as listed above, but more darkness and trauma themes than book one had. Another added romance that is friends to lovers to enemies to ??? You'll have to read to find out!)

Status: Drafting (60%)

Genres: Epic fantasy, Romance, Action and Adventure Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - Coming 2023

Judith and Chit's journey across the seas to Galavarn was not as smooth as they had hoped for. The standard of living here is much different than what they encountered on the mainland, and the newfound bond between them will be tested. Enigmas run rampant here, along with a woman from Maleth’s past who claims to hold the key to defeating them for good. Unfortunately, this woman has an unruly and strangely apathetic nature to her, along with a profound hatred toward their distant companion on Arigale. 

Meanwhile, back on the mainland, those left behind must bear their own struggles as a stranger appears and insists on taking one of their number with him. This man with red, sunken eyes bears a sharp grudge against Stemoss and worse obligations to a certain deity. 

Secrets of the past will come to light on this desolate isle, and the friends left behind will struggle to not become a cog in a plan devised long before they were even born.

Made to Taste (WIP)

Made this placeholder cover in Canva, may or may not be final

(critique of racial relations and capitalism, LGBTQIA+ Rep, monsters and mayhem, dark boy and maybe not sunshine but optimistic girl, meet cute, Terrible CEO villains, small business owning woman protag, magical races in modern day, first kiss, ferris wheels, cute confessions and fluffy moments mixed with helping one another during awful ordeals, they were roommates)

Status: Possible series in the works. Book one draft is complete and editing begins soon. Book two draft in progress as well.

Genres: Urban fantasy, Romance, Paranormal Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - Book One possible in 2023

When Lyra Morley accepted a rough and tumble new hire from her bar, she didn't think he would end up her new roommate in a week. Noel Akatash brings his own debts, and the people holding the accounts aren't to be trifled with. Magical home invasions aside, Lyra is more worried about her business serving the city nightlife any food she can handle all made to order.

Cooking with a halfbreed's sense of smell comes with its perks, and one of them is that she can hide her skills in the kitchen so no one is any wiser about her true nature. The night-only diner called Made to Taste is meant to be a haven for those the city would rather keep buried. Lyra, the pacifist and abstinent dhampir, would fight to keep it safe. Good thing Noel knows a thing or two about being scrappy.

Dream Escape (WIP)

Another aesthetic placeholder for now, but I have a cover in mind

(dreams vs reality, learning to cope, TW: suicidal themes are major part of this book, disenchantment, finding your purpose, joy in the little things is better than no joy at all, painting and artistry used to convey these themes, portal/dreamscape fantasy, Alice in Wonderland vibes, enemies to friends to lovers) Status: Plotting stage

Genres: Urban fantasy, Romance, Drama Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - No determined release YET - Standalone novel around 80k words

Emma Reed, 26, has a Master of the Arts and no place to put it but in her desk drawer. Once proud of her accomplishment, the lights quickly dimmed when she ended up living back in her old childhood bedroom at her parents place and flat broke. Helping Adrien with graphics for their streaming or Sarah with banners for her pet business is all well and good, but it's not at all how she imagined scrapping by. When her newest piece is rejected from the gallery she had finally convinced to give her a chance, Emma hits a downward spiral.

When she awakens, she finds herself in a strange new world with a strange man hovering around her. He calls himself Jasper, a dream painter, and quickly proves his prowess at sculpting others' dreams. Emma was in his care, but though he's petitioned her to wake up, she can't. Neither knows how she ended up in this place, but surrounded by the dreams of others quite literally brought to life around her, Emma makes the decision to stay.

Jasper won't let her. For one, if she stays there is no telling how badly that could go for her, or for his hopes of a promotion. Emma goes along with his plan to cart her across this new place, more as a sightseeing tour than the arduous task he finds it to be. Along the way, a bit of the light comes back into her eyes, and he can't help but remember how bright they both used to shine. Dulled and muddied palettes that they both became, can they start over?

Links & Socials

Find out all the info you need for Arigale, with pages for my other works upcoming when they are closer to release dates at my website.

You can support me with my illness and with saving for promotion, editing, and artwork for my writing over on Ko-Fi.

You can also find me being a struggling writer, but also a huge geek who loves DnD, anime, cosplay, RPGs, Otome, and more here on Tumblr and over on my other socials at Twitter, Tiktok, and sporadically on Instagram.

My Tags

I haven't been great at using these, but I'm going to try and be better.

#Arigale - for anything related to my Arigale series

#Made to Taste - for anything related to Made to Taste series

#Dream Escape - for anything related to my standalone titled such

#Writer Woes - for rants or jokes about how hard this can be

#Writer Advice - to take with a grain of salt please

#Mental Mess - when I have a bad mental health day

#Physical Mess - when I have a bad physical health day

#Free Commentary - When I reblog with additions in tags

And I'll of course be using #Writeblr #Booklr and other necessary tags as well when called for.

[cuppasunu]

𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 : 𝐒𝐘𝐉

“i will love you ‘till infinity runs out. (which is never)”

synopsis: you have waited all your life to find yours, while eric loathes the thought of being destined to one. by fate, you have been matched as soulmates, will it end well?

warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption

pairing: eric sohn x fem. reader | all of tbz members

genre: soulmate au | angst, fluff, suggestive

playlist: spotify

status: completed.

w/c: 27k words

a/n: guess who’s back?? with another chapter fic!?? wooo !! just a heads up, characterizing youngjae with such a jackass personality is a direct blow to my heart because he is FAR from what i have made his character to be. im so glad to be back <33

taglist: @fullsunhee​​ @haylo4ever @fleurseoul @deobi-pabo​ @lsangyeons​ @sangyeon-lee​ @sunwoowuvbot​ @elcie-chxn​ @zyoumeval​ @nyuwings​ @hae-chans​ @mistresskate101​ @heartyyjeno @nanadreamies​ @bacardihs​ @sanniescat​ @gughoul​ @hhjvlogs​ @owlieee​ @sellefics​ @93s-club​ @lovecn​ @silent-potato​ @pimpnameyannie​ @vibecheckvernon-old​ @lovelyutas​ @moonlightgrlkev​ @neo-deobi @sknyuz @mochinyu @kpopnightingale​ @ten-gift @filmopen​ @experimentalwrites​ @dearseungie @reverienostalgia @sunlightwoo

reply, reblog, dm or send an ask if you would like to join or be taken off the list ! (again there is no schedule, im so sorry! i’ll try to be consistent)

DISCLAIMER: this is a fictional story. nothing about what i say or do in this story is an accurate depiction of these characters. please enjoy them as made up situations made for made up characters.

social media au version (intro profiles only)

[m.list]

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

[pencilwritesshiz47]

Quick Thinking

MGR Chapter 8

[Previous] [Next] [Masterpost]

TW: Fights, physical violence, death mentions, minor cursing

Goldie was a quick thinker.

She could come up with a plan in a moment, and acted on it quickly. This often got her out of tight spots, especially when she needed to evade an attack during training.

Unfortunately, her plans weren’t always great, and sometimes got her deeper into trouble, and she once had to run from a junior knight that tried to kill her during dinner. (It had been a tough day.)

So as she ran ahead to punch the man with the blue hair, she hoped that this wasn’t one of those times.

As her fist collided with his face, he stumbled back, his eyes hardening. 

“So the little girl wants a fight? Well, she’ll get one.” His voice was mocking, dripping with fake sweetness and barrels of sarcasm. 

He swung his spear at her chest, but she skidded over to the right, narrowly avoiding being stabbed in the shoulder. 

She was about to send a magic blast at him, but then remembered: the Fade.

She cursed, and hit him again, pouring all her rage into the punch.

She was vaguely aware of Eloise and Lauren, who had started to fight off the soldiers that had come running towards the rest of the group, but her focus was on the man in front of her.

“Alright, the time for games is over.” The man quickly murmured something under his breath, and water rose up from the ground. She wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he was obviously a water sprite, so she didn’t question it long. Suddenly, it lifted her up against the back wall of the alleyway. She struggled against it, but it wrapped around her wrists and ankles, somehow chaining her up to the wall.

She looked over at the rest of the fight. Lauren and Eloise were holding their own pretty well, but Aaron, Elisabeth, and Marigold? Not so much. The three of them seemed to be teamed up against four soldiers, and they were cornered, just barely holding them off.

Goldie struggled to fight against her bonds (they were just water, right?), but they kept getting tighter and tighter.

And then she noticed the sprite’s face. His eyes were closed, his brow was furrowed, and his fists were clenched— the only reason he was able to keep her chained was because he was concentrating hard. And thankfully for her, Goldie was really good at breaking people’s concentration. 

“Hey! Hey you, the one with the dumb face! Why’s your face so dumb?”

It wasn’t her best insult, of course, and she was a bit worried she went a bit soft. The man didn’t seem to react, but she saw his fists clench even tighter— it was working.

“And I mean, your hair? Dude? What’s up with that? First, it’s this crazy blue color. I mean, are you, are you like some kind of tropical fish? Fish-man? Should I call you fish-man now?? Yeah, ok, fish-man, not just that, but jeez, you need some conditioner. Take care of your hair, you damn fish-man!”

The man huffed, and looked up at her. “Shut up, little girl.” 

Goldie just laughed. 

And then his eyes became even harder and colder than they already were. Another bit of water started to rise up from the ground, and she kept on laughing. “What are you going to do, splash me?”

But as it got closer and closer to her face— closer and closer to her mouth— she realized what was happening. He was going to gag her. With water.

And that would not turn out well for her.

She tossed out an insult, but the water was inches from her face, and she started to panic, she was trapped, no, no, no—

And then, she wasn’t. The water holding her to the wall dispersed, and she dropped down onto the floor. She stared at the man, face down on the stone floor, and the young princess standing above him, with a sword raised above her head. There was a moment of silence.

“Ohmygods— did, did I just kill him? I didn’t want to kill him! I just hit him with the flat end of my sword because you were all stuck and it didn’t seem good for you to be stuck and I really, really, really don’t want to have killed someone because I’m nine, and when you’re nine, you’re not supposed to kill people, right? Right? Is that something nine-year-olds do? Is that something I  have to do? Because that’s not really something I want to every do, oh gods, oh gods, oh—”

“Your highness, I don’t think he’s dead. And I’m not actually sure if nine-year-olds are supposed to kill people. We’ll have to ask the others later. But now, we need a plan.”

She glanced over at the three in the corner. They were still there, but they weren’t dead yet, so that was something.

And then, she thought of a plan. It might be stupid, but maybe, maybe, it could buy them a bit of time.

“How fast can you run?” Goldie asked, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Ummm,” Amina started, “Kinda fast? I guess?”

“Good. Now, when I say run, run with me as fast as your little child legs carry you.”

“My what—” the princess started to say, but she had no time, as Goldie quickly picked up her former attacker’s limp body, holding it up.

“Hey! You!”

A few soldiers who weren’t really doing anything stared at her, gasping when they saw their leader unconscious. 

“Yeah. You see this guy? You want him? Because I don’t think he’ll be very happy if he realizes his little group just sat by as we kidnapped him. And do you really want to see him mad?”

There was a silence in the alleyway, as even the soldiers attacking her friends stopped what they were doing.

And then, just before the soldiers became a screaming horde, Goldie shouted. “RUN!”

She took a quick look to see what was behind her. The good news was that most of the group was behind her, with Eloise helping her brother fight off one stubborn soldier, but they’d be fine. Probably.

But she couldn’t think about that right now, she had to think about the bad news— the soldiers were just a foot behind them.

Lauren ran up to her so that they were side-by-side. “What happens now?”

“No clue. Get to the boat and try not to die? And I guess use this guy as a shield.”

Lauren nodded and they kept going on. In a few minutes, they had reached the bottom of the staircase that led them to Xan Ruz’s surface. Goldie took the moment to look behind her, and sucked in a breath— they were right on their heels.

She dashed up the steps, her breath heavy, and she tried to focus on the sound of her shoes hitting the stones to calm her down. Tap, tap, tap, they went, as she ran for her life. Tap, tap, tap, they went, as she was inches from something horrible.

And then, finally, after running through the tunnel, fresh air at last. She could see the suns rising in the northwest, and she suddenly realized that she had no idea where their boat was.

Thankfully, Lauren realized this as well, and took the lead. Still carrying the man on her back, she sprinted across the field, hoping it wasn’t far.

“It’s just down here!” Lauren shouted, and she ran down a small hill. Goldie could see the coastline next to it, and on it was a small rowboat, large enough to fit everyone. Maybe.

And then, a scream pierced the air. She turned back to face it— a soldier had caught up to Elisabeth and had grabbed hold of her. 

She quickly dropped the sprite and snapped her fingers, hoping that something would happen. Marigold had said that she had been propelling them with magic until they pulled ashore, so her powers would work, right?

And then, her bow appeared in her hands, and her quiver of arrows on her back. She smirked, and pulled one out, positioning the shot just right.

With a thwish and a woosh, her arrow sailed over to the soldier, hitting them right in the forearm. They quickly let Elisabeth go, and she ran up to the rest of the group, all of them trying to get to the boat as fast as they could. 

Goldie picked up the man (she wasn’t losing her hostage yet) and sprinted down the hill so fast it felt like gravity was reaching its hands up and pulling her to the ground, and that she had no say in any of it.

And then, they had made it. Everyone was piling into the boat, and Goldie practically tossed her hostage in, shooting the soldiers when they got too close.

“Goldie, come on!” Marigold yelled, and she hopped in the boat as Lauren started to row them away.

There was a brief silence, while everyone tried to catch their breath and process what just happened. And then, Eloise spoke the thought that everyone had probably been thinking at that point.

“What the hell do we do now?”

wooo chapter eight!!! haha yes neither goldie nor amina know if nine-year-olds are supposed to be killing people dakdlafla

Anyways, please let me know:

If you want to be added or removed from the taglist

If I’ve made any spelling mistakes

If I’ve made any grammar errors

Your general feedback

Your questions

If I should add any other trigger warnings.

also, please remember, reblogs are free, and if you don’t like it you can always delete the post later. it’d be a big help for my account, and thank you!!

Taglist:

@fire-sapphics @rat-with-coffee @dirty-racoon @jolieharkness

[medleymisty]

2,3,8 for the asks 😊

2. Sims writing has a visual component. How do you utilize color/objects and settings in your stories?  

For Surreal Darkness I take the pics first and then I write the story to fit the pictures, so the setting very much shapes the story. Well...actually I’ve always done that for all my stories.

I’m not into clutter or poses and I like using what the game gives me and not adding too much to that. I like simple clean uncluttered imagery, both aesthetically and because poses and intricate set building and using a lot of CC seem like they take so much time and effort. I love it when other people do it and they create beautiful awesome stuff, but I just don’t have that kind of energy.

My editing on the pics is also pretty simple. I just play with colors and tones and filters in GIMP until I think the picture looks right. And I don’t really have a logical process for that, it’s just like wooo playing with things until I feel it’s done!

3. Which process do you dedicate more time to, editing visuals or editing your writing? Why?  

I think writing, but not by a very large amount these days. Like eight or so years ago I once spent eight hours hammering three paragraphs into shape, but it doesn’t take so long now.

But then again towards the end of Valley I once spent nine hours editing the pics for a chapter that had very little text.

Recently though I’d say writing, because it is Very Important that the Words sound Right. ;)

8. Are there any plots or characters that have changed dramatically since you initially began writing them?  

All of them, lol. Like with Surreal Darkness it was just, oh, let’s make up silly captions for these lovely pics of Midnight Hollow. Everyone’s complaining about how dark Midnight Hollow is so we’ll personalize the darkness, yay fun!

And then it became this whole thing about multiverses and friendship and what it means to be conscious.

Seth started life as a parody of a legacy villain of the type that were popular back in the mid 2000s, and now...well, now he’s Seth, lol.

And Sarah was originally designed to be in Seth’s shadow, to maybe be the minion with a heart of gold who is all emo and torn between the two sides, another trope that was popular in mid-2000s legacies, but then she was like, nope, I may be very feminine and it may be my biggest dream to be a housewife and I may be anxious and struggle with self-esteem and boundary issues, but I will also straight up kick the ass of anyone or anything who threatens my loved ones and I will do anything needed to save them, from themselves or from others.

I think that’s natural and how it just goes for me. I start with a basic idea, I start writing, and through the writing the story and the characters grow and change.

[uncannyvalleyinc]

Saber ISBI Legacy 2.6

Chapter 2.6

Last chapter Gloam promptly became a child, Lacuna aged up into a teenager, and Violet asked her longtime lover and father of 2/3rds of her children Paolo to move in. A timely decision because...

Violet: Increased appetite, constant urge to nap, and now -- URK! Am I... ?

One quick trip to the bathroom later, and...

Violet: I AM! Pregnant, I mean!

Molly: GASP! But isn't your hus... boyfr... that deadbeat you're shacking up with like a million years old?

Violet: C'mon mom, his name is Paolo and I'm sure it will be fine.

Lacuna: AUGH! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!

Lacuna hightails it onto the front lawn and...

Violet: Whoa! You can't just run away like that! I thought you'd be glad to have another sibling -- or at least happy for me.

Hudson: You're pregnant again? B-b-but when did we woohoo?

Lacuna: Happy? HAPPY?! It's bad enough that you moved that man in here, but now you're having another kid with him!?

Violet: 'That man' is your father!

Lacuna: He was never a father to me, he wasn't a father to Lacuna, and Paolo won't be a father to that baby either. And... you're not much of a mother for bringing him into our lives.

Paolo: Hey babe, I found some hair dye under the sink. I hope you don't mind that I --

Violet: ASS! SOFA! NOW! YOU!

Violet: -- so then Lacuna said that you suck, and I suck too for having kids with you. Where is that even coming from? Is it just teenage mood swings?

Paolo: I'm an internationally renowned DJ, the Don Lothario Juan of Windenburg, but... she's right, babe. I am a terrible father.

Things at home are still tense from the argument that morning, so everyone chooses deal with their feelings in a totally therapeutic and mature way...

SEASONS PICSPAM!!! WATERBALOON FIGHT!!!

Gloam: This is awesome! I'm gonna get mom!

You mean your hugely eight-point-nine-nine-nine-repeating-months pregnant mom? That sounds like a good idea? Luckily he missed.

In happier news, it's Penumbra's birthday! Her uncle Pennyroyal congratulates her before...

IT'S ✨SUPER SPARKLE SPARKLE CAKE TIME!!!✨

Violet gives her newly teenaged daughter a present.

Penumbra: What's thi-- AAAAH!!!

Violet: The confetti bomb is just a preamble. Your real gift is waiting at home...

The family sit down for some cake and Lacuna vents her frustrations about Paolo, who still hasn't shown up to the party for some reason.

Lacuna: I can't believe Paolo isn't here -- it's your teenage birthday and that shiftless lay about is missing it!

Penumbra: Meh, that's just what dad's like. Besides, I'm sure he'll show up once he realizes there is an open bar and a DJ...

Violet: Open bar and DJ is right! Come on girls, lighten up -- it's a PAAARTY! So get crunk, get jiggy with it, bust a move, bust a nut! Anything goes!

Pennyroyal: Can you believe they made her heir?

Iris: Well, look on the bright side -- we get to live lives unconstrained by the banal imperative of reproduction. Also, the internet will never see screenshots of us in the shower.

Finally Paolo shows up (Violet actually had to start a club meeting to get him there) to get the party started, WOOO!

It's a bit of karmic justice when he breaks a hip on the dancefloor.

Penumbra is not super happy about her cool teen makeover, but Paolo likes it.

Paolo: It's the Madonna look! This is what all the kids are wearing today!

Unimpressed by the allure of DJs and drinking, Gloam busies himself by being a lil stinker on the dancefloor.

When Violet comes over to rage parent him...

Violet: You wipe that paint up right now young ma -- #%?&*!

Violet: OOWOWOWOWOWOWO!

Paolo: Hold it right there, babe! I just know this is gonna go viral!

Violet heads home to give birth. She has a little baby boy named Oscuro who, through the magic of glitter, is instantly aged up.

Violet: Where did that red hair come from?

(Now here is where I have a little moral quandary: TS4 toddlers are super cute, but all of the other kids this generation were born pre-Parenthood. It seems unfair for Oscuro to have a life stage that they missed out on. Should I age him up into a child? I'm torn... I'm gonna do it.

Next generation will totally be an adorable toddlersplosion though!)

And with a wave of my cheaty wand, it is so. Welcome to the family, Oscuro Saber!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

(I did it! 31 prompts in 31 days! I made it to the end! Wooo! This is the final chapter for the Serial Killer Gap Year storyline - so just expect darkness)

Holland came out of the bathroom with Athos just ahead, the two men wrapped in towels, Holland drying off his hair one-handed while Athos pretty much just let the water drip onto the floor. 

 He felt a little better and a whole lot worse, all at once. 

 “There, that’s better,” Athos said, stretching his arms above his head. “Don’t you always feel better after a shower? At least, the way I take showers makes me feel better. You might limp for a while.”

 “I limp anyway,” Holland said quietly, rubbing at a new bruise on the side of his neck. He put his clothes back on mechanically, body moving without brain, and watched Athos pull on a pair of Holland's PJ pants that were folded in the clean laundry pile next to his couch and nothing more.

 There were new scars on Athos that hadn’t been there eight months ago, healing cuts, some bruises. He really had been living in the wilderness until he’d decided to hunt Holland down. Without thinking, he reached out with his left hand and traced a long new scar, still red, down Athos’s arm. “How did this happen?”

 When he wasn’t remembering what his situation was, he stopped stammering with them. He hadn’t stammered with Athos and Astrid, except when he was scared, before. But he’d been scared all the time with everyone else.

 Athos grinned at him, clearly pleased that he’d reached out of his own volition.

(Click here to read the rest of the chapter) 

[btstaejimin]

Desire or Comfort? (Jimin and Taehyung Angst)

Hey guys, 

I haven’t posted any original content for a while, but recently I have reconnected with a friend who is also an ARMY as a result of me sksksksk ^^. She managed to get me to write up my personal dreams in the form of an imagine/fanfic. While also encouraging me to post them, this is my first ever smut post(well first chapter is suggestive, second and third chapters though... oh hunny ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

I apologise for being MIA for the last year or so, I’m currently in my second year of university... ya girl is getting old T_T. I think I started this blog back in 2015 when I was a year into being an ARMY, I was very active and then exams were around the corner and I just focused on reblogging content from blogs dedicated to BTS. Anyway enough rambling. I’ve written 3 chapters so far (we all know I prefer one-shots cos I'm lazy heh), but if the first one does well I’ll post the other two. Hope you enjoy xx

(A/N: Apologies my writing style might’ve changed a lil bit xx)

Warnings: Smut(in future chapters), Adultery... and Angst heheh

Word Count: 3984 

Part 2

                                                               -

                                                       Chapter 1

                                                                -

It had been 2 and half years since he seized the opportunity to step past the friendship boundary I had created. Though I was in love with him, I was okay with watching him from afar. Our friendship started off with a rare opportunity I came across.

You see I was a freelancer, a teacher in the day and anything in the evening to make extra money on the side. Though most of my jobs were either being a runner on set, makeup artist or hair stylist or even a cleaner. My passion was photography. Non-profit projects were often funded by my side jobs, luckily enough one of the works I did, managed to be viewed by an assistant whom worked for a popular boy band. At the time, I was unaware of their popularity but I did appreciate their music.

Through word of mouth, I managed to work on set at a shoot with the said boy band, and later on, was gifted the opportunity to work full time with their team. I was intrigued by the shortest boy of the group, his skin was fair as snow, ebony hair and hooded eyes that could trap your soul if you were not careful. He was living beauty at its most divine. His looks were intimidating until he smiled, that domineering feeling vanished once she showcased his pearly whites with pride.  His name was Park Jimin. He was the reason for the sins I proceeded to commit, though aware of the consequences.

It was innocent at first, he was one of the seven boys that continued to captivate me without ease. Though he was the most enchanting to me, there was another that did not fail to make me question my sanity. He was tall, shoulders as broad as a door frame, lashes that aided in losing yourself in his uneven brown eyes, fingers slender yet gentle, his rectangular smile would make your heart flutter to the point you forgot how to breathe. He too played a role in my confusion between my heart and my loins. Kim Taehyung. That devil bastard, ruined everything in one simple moment of weakness.

In the first year of working for the seven talented boys, I amassed deep connections to a select few, though I was on good terms with all the handsome men, a select few proceeded to play with my heartstrings as though I was a harp and they were beginner harpists whom they’d break in till they learned every inch of the instrument.

I was like putty in their hands, anything they asked for, I’d do, but their smiles were enough reward for my sore legs. After eight months, Jimin decided to seize the opportunity into asking me on a date.

His hair now blonde, cascaded effortlessly across his forehead, lips plump and rosy, he begun..

“Let me take you out to eat sometime, Y/N” he insisted.

His hand found the small of his neck while he shun his teeth through his thick lips.

‘*Sigh* .. I hate when he does that... Why does he have to do that?’ I thought as I felt my face flush with crimson

‘If I just play dumb and say sure as friends, then maybe, he’ll catch on’

It's not that I did not want to date him, but over time as I stood next to him or remotely near the piece of artwork, I was reminded of my insignificance and how much I didn’t deserve to be even breathing the same air as something so beautifully breath-taking.

“Yeah, let's go get some spicy rice cakes or something, it’s important for friends to hang out” I exclaimed brushing past him to the practice room where all the other boys were waiting.

Though I recall that moment being very awkward, it didn’t stop him.

He followed me into the room, making his presence known.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean as friends, I want to date you, for goodness sakes!” He spoke with haste.

The room did not fail to submerge me in ‘oooh’s’ and ‘ahhhh’s’ and ‘wooo’s’. I was drowning, not only in embarrassment, but fear.

He was something I wasn’t deserving nor worthy of, he was someone whom was my forever person, but things took a turn for the worst in our second year of being together.

Things became dull, overfamiliar and repetitive. We both were undeniably uncomfortable in an environment we labelled to be a place of comfort.

Overtime, it created an issue with his best friend Taehyung, as I often found myself indulging in his company to escape the blandness, I called my lover.

Jimin hated the way I smiled so often around Taehyung, the way he was able to change my body language just through entering the room. He was jealous, and I was ignorant to it. We both found comfort in other things, unfortunately for him, my comfort was found in the other members.

Jungkook, the youngest of the seven managed to find my portfolio of old works and had asked to accompany me on one of my projects, he was the only one who knew about my passion, he was respectful, humble and willing to learn. He had helped me on set that day, our bond became stronger through our mutual interest. After arriving at the dorm that evening, Jungkook continued to discuss possible concepts to explore in my work till he stumbled upon an idea.

“Considering, you’ve been doing minimal projects lately, I’m guessing you’re suffering from mild artist block?” He hummed leaning his head to one side while lifting the corner of his mouth.

“How did you know?” My eyes widened from the sudden intrigue.

“Mmm, you don’t seem yourself lately, I mean we’ve known you for 3 and a half years, yet only 3 months ago did I find your portfolio while you were cleaning out your apartment”

The young man decided to take it upon himself to read me like a book?

I wasn’t offended, more confused, I’d be lying if I said I was myself lately, but with the current tension with Jimin, I never had time to plan projects as I was always preoccupied with my growing concern for our relationship.

“Ahhh, photography is like my little secret you see, it's my guilty pleasure, I don’t really like sharing my work with others” I smiled faintly.

“I see, but your works are beautiful, they are something to be showcased, you know Taehyung is into photography too” He chimed.

Speak of the devil, the handsome figure walked into the open planned kitchen with nothing but slacks, a beanie and a long sleeve t-shirt hanging from his frame. Bastard. He was so effortlessly attractive and he knew it.

“What’s this I hear about photography?” He cheeks balled up as he poured himself a glass of water.

“Hyung, did you know Y/N is a photographer? She refuses to be credited for her works though.” He turned to the older male.

Taehyung stopped drinking, and in that moment, I felt the piercing eyes of the male search for my soul.

“No, I had no idea” He whispered, I could almost taste the betrayal he felt from the string of words, he let slip from his lips.

My head remained low as I searched the cupboards for something to eat.

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/N?, I thought we were close.” He spoke, looking for my eyes.

“I don’t know, it never came up, so I never got around to telling you.” I shrugged.

“But how come Kook knows?” He took a seat at the island, crossing his arms.

“Oh, that’s my fault, Hyung. I went to her apartment while she was cleaning and found her portfolio” He spoke.

The air was thick, I wasn’t exactly sure why, possibly because Taehyung felt left out of the loop, but even Jimin didn’t know much about my hobby, only that I take pictures on occasion.

For that moment, I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

“I have an idea, since you’re suffering from a block, how about we flip roles, you be the subject and I am the photographer” Jungkook jumped up from his stool, excited from the prospect.

“How about I pick a place personal to me and then the concept I come up with, you have to recreate as the photographer and me as the subject?” He added.

“Umm, I don’t know Kook, I’ve never been the subject before, I’m much more comfortable behind the camera, I mean its a good idea bu-“

“I’m in” Taehyung cut.

“Huh?” I questioned.

“I’ve always wanted to shoot you Y/N, I’ve told you time and time again, that you should model or something, but you never listen to me, this would be a great opportunity, to switch roles and stimulate your creativity!” He answered while Kook nodded his head in agreement.

“I don’t wan-“

“I want to join in too” A voice spoke from behind the nearest wall.

“I mean she is my girlfriend after all, plus I’d get to spend some quality time with her” Jimin smiled.

“I didn’t sign up for this, I don’t want to” I hissed.

“I mean you owe us an explanation about this deep-rooted hobby so this is a nice way out of it and its beneficial to all of us” Taehyung demanded, eyes dark as he stood from the island.

“We’ll let you know what we plan to do, just keep the next two weeks free for us” Taehyung spoke once more, turning his back to me while lifting his hand as he left the kitchen.

-

The time had come where I’d be the subject of the boys eyes, though I didn’t want to, the more I thought about it the more I convinced myself that this was an opportunity for new inspiration. With most things Taehyung requested to do things first, in this instance it wasn’t an exception either.

He had planned to take me to Daegu, his home city and place of origin and birth, he had always been proud of his dialect more than others. Yet, something seemed off with him, he had requested to have me for 5 of the 14 days I was told to keep free.

Why would he need 5 days for a simple photoshoot?

As we began walking through the local market, he began

“To put it simply Y/N, the boys and I decided we would have to do 3 concepts with you each, I got the most amount of days because we will be going to Japan for two of them, the other three we shall be in Daegu” he sung while spinning on his heel with hands stretched out.

“I didn’t agree to go to Japan for this stupid project! I’m going home!” This was a bad idea, I didn’t want to be a pain but my gut was telling me being alone with Tae was dangerous enough in itself, but being abroad with him.. I don’t know whether I’d be able to control my hormones around him, the sexual tension was high enough in itself. The prospect of something so romantic could jeopardise my relationship with Jimin.

He was quick yet firm to grab my wrist while pulling it up to a 90-degree angle parallel to my face.

Stopping me before I could find my way back to the train station.

“Hey, I already booked our tickets with the help of Jimin, it’s too late to go back now”

What... why would Jimin give him my passport and other details so easily if he detests our closeness?

Was he testing me? Or did he genuinely trust me?

-

The first shoot with Taehyung was awkward, seeing him crouched in different positions to find the angle he wanted was intimidating, I hated myself for how I admired his passion, the white shirt he wore showcased his collarbones and abnormally muscular neck. All I could think about was how his skin felt while he pranced around his chosen studio, showing me his body in all angles.

Taehyung appreciated the simpler things in his photography, he had always had an eye for vintage cameras. He’d always exclaim how he like capturing moments and snippets in time loops when it came to scenic pictures. However, with subjects he found it difficult to explore ideas as he appreciated candid shots. The first shoot took place in a modern yet minimalistic studio. Choosing soft fabrics such as satin and cotton, against a white background, mostly using the natural sunlight to capture his shots.

“Y/N, this shoot is about capturing you in your most innocent state, I want you to be vulnerable but willing” He hummed.

“Tae, what do you mean willing?” I questioned.

“I mean, as in willing to learn, I want you to be vulnerable but open-minded to the prospect of exploring a relationship” He demanded.

Yeah, Taehyung was never good at conveying what he wanted from others.

“Okay, let me give you context, you have just come out of a difficult relationship, you meet this guy, he is genuine and he makes you excited, but you are reluctant” He explained.

“Okay, I’m following...” I replied.

“Right, now I want you to be open-minded to the prospect of exploring a relationship with this new guy” He smiled.

At the time, I should’ve realised where he was going with this concept, however, I was too caught up in the moment of feeling oddly vulnerable in front of the camera. I didn’t like it, so I tried to convey what was asked of me so I could return to my comfort zone. Taehyung had made it a point to keep my face natural and the set minimal.

-

“Tae, what’s the general theme of your shoots?” I asked while packing up his equipment.

“Hmmm, I want to achieve three images of you in your rawest form” he hummed while folding the sheets.

“Any particular reason why?”

“I think that’s when you are the most beautiful” He showcased his boxy smile, making my heart flutter for a moment.

I felt guilty as I paused to watch the tall figure move around the studio so gracefully, I wanted to embrace him yet kick him at the same time. He knew I was with his best friend, yet he proceeded to taunt me like this?

“Ha ha, so cringey, anyway I’m going to give Jimin a call” I spoke sarcastically, quickly removing myself from the tension he caused.

Rapidly searching for Jimin in my contacts, I wanted to hear his voice, I needed to hear it, to keep me grounded! I needed to be reminded of the difference between love and lust.

“Jagiya, I miss you” I spoke. [Jagiya=Honey, sweetie, love]

“How’s Tae?” Chim asked.

Odd. Instead of responding to me, he’s concerned about Taehyung.

“He’s well I guess, you could call him if you’d like” I hissed.

“I will, I’ll see you soon”

“Yah! If you dare hang up on me Park Jimin, you’ll have another thing coming” I shouted.

“Like what?” He questioned snidely.

I hung up, his sass was too much for me right now, if anything that call pushed me even further away from him.

“Everything alright?” Taehyung was quick to attend my bruised ego.

I debated making a snide remark about his best friend but the prospect of showing Tae the cracks in what was left of my relationship would hurt what was left of my pride.

“Yeah, I’m going to back to then bnb to have a nap, I’m quite tired after today” I whispered.

“What? No! its only 2pm Y/N, you promised you’d let me show you my home city!” He pleaded.

“Yah, Taehyung-ah.. I’m not in the mood, with you being all happy around me will just make me feel guilty!”

“You argued with Jimin didn’t you.” That boy could see right through me. I didn’t realise how transparent I truly was.

“I did not.”

“You did, you’re so obvious” He sighed.

“And wha-“

In moments, I felt the boy’s strong arms wrap around my torso, pulling me into his embrace. He hot breath dispersed across my scalp. Why? Just why did he have to touch me? He was contributing to the cracks in my relationship. I felt responsible for putting my guard down.

He was the puppeteer to my heartstrings, and I was the idiot allowing myself to be played.

“It’s okay, you can cry. I’m here, I’m always here.” He spoke, placing his chin on the crown of my scalp.

My ears were pressed against his broad chest, his heart was steady and calm.

“Taehyung. I don’t mean to be rude, but can you let go of me” I said brazenly.

“uh?”

I pushed myself away from the figure. I already felt bad for being close friends to the boy, but the tension he was causing within every dynamic I shared with the boys and myself was becoming unhealthy.

-

The second shoot with Taehyung took place in a studio filled with heaps of flowers.

“This is the second stage of your new relationship, you’re blossoming, figuratively and literally” he skipped searching for flowers to encase my body in.

“Imagine that this is a new chapter of your life, better yet a new volume, you’re a new person and this guy brings the best out of you”

At this point, I should’ve seen what was coming, but I was still offended by Jimin’s disregard for my being and feelings, he was purposely being spiteful because he was bitter.

“Ah, one second, Jimin’s calling me” He laughed.

Wow. They are both bastards. I’d half expect Taehyung would not pick up, but I’d also hope that Jimin would contact me back first.

“Jimin told me to tell you that you should unblock him”

Oh, I forgot... I am quite irrational when I’m irritated.

“He also said that he is sorry, and that he misses you”

Suspicious, why would Jimin provide any insight into our relationship when he detests the fact that I, too am close to his beloved Taehyung.

“Ok” Is what I chose to reply with, possibly because I wanted to be an asshole, but also because I refused to show any ounce of emotion to all parties concerned.

-

Before I knew it, I was on a plane to Japan. Sitting next to someone whom was beautiful even when they were drooling. Taehyung had always been irritating due to the sole fact that, that boy could be dressed in a bin bag and he’d still look like a model.

“If you’re going to stare at me like that while I sleep, I’m assuming you’re giving me permission to do the same?” He spoke with his eyes still closed.

That cocky bastard, he had eyes at the side of his head now too?

“Oh no, I was just admiring the string of drool that’s hanging from your chin” I hissed, turning my head to face the seat in front of me.

Hastily, the boy wiped his string of saliva with the back of his hand. Classy.

-

I refused to speak to Jimin till I had landed back in SK. Taehyung and I were booked to be in Japan for 2 and a half days after all, might as well make the most of it, right?

Wrong. That’s where I committed the sinniest sin amongst sins. [not an actual word, but in this instance... is a word]

Japan was beautiful, Taehyung seemed to have perfectly timed such a trip, or it was due to his sheer luck. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was based on luck, due to his undeniably beautiful features and personality to pair.

Sakura. The season of cherry blossoms gracing the country. Taehyung had booked a hotel in Kyoto, his demeanour changed the moment we checked in at the hotel. Something sinister yet determined, became evident in his actions.

-

This hotel had a bath that emulated that of the hot springs famous around Japan. He had me dressed in nothing but a large white shirt. I felt even more vulnerable than I did in the first shoot. I’d hope I wouldn’t have to be in the bath. If I had known what would’ve happened after the shoot, I would’ve protested.

“Y/N, I know this seems outrageous, but I promise you that this is only in sight of our project, I want you to submerge yourself in the water” [water is wet]

“I want you to be completely wet, this is the last stage of your relationship blossoming, you don’t have to feign innocence, you can allow your body to be possessed by lust in its rawest from”

“I’m not going to judge you nor scrutinise you, but I want you to look at the camera as though you’re seeing Jimin naked for the first time” He sang to me.

He was playing a dangerous game, I was only wearing that t-shirt and a pair of knickers, didn’t he know that the material would cling to every orifice of my body. What was he playing at exactly?

“Umm, I don’t feel comfortable with doing that, Tae” I spoke stepping into the mist filled tub.

“Just do it Y/N” He demanded.

“Show me your sensual side, show me what else there is to you” He pleaded.

Was he talking to be directly or figuratively? Or both?

“Taehyu-“

“Seriously, we flew all the way here for you to do this?”

I found myself almost completely submerged under, leaving but my nose to forehead above water.

“You’ve done this for me twice already! I just want to see the real you, okay?” He reassured the knots in my stomach, that this was for art. If I should part-take in such a project, I should at least commit completely.

The transparent liquid aided in adjusting my nerves, it was warm and comforting, I just needed to use my imagination to give the shots that was required of me.

I began posing in ways that were foreign to me, mostly using my eyes to envelope Tae into a façade that appeared real, yet was entirely fake.

I wanted to take him, he was my muse in that moment. I was not making love to the camera, I was making lust to him. He was cruel to put me in such a compromising predicament, but to his surprise, I did not falter at the task at hand.

-

Moments passed and we were finished with his project.

“Wow, that was beautiful” He said in awe as he looked back at some of his prized shots while I continued to sway in the liquid.

He placed his camera in a dry place, reaching for the nearest towel.

Reaching for my hand, he aided in helping me out of the safe haven. I realised later that my skin was visible through the saturated material. Nipples apparent and erect. His eyes darkened before me as he wrapped the cotton cloth around my frame. Pulling me closer, he looked down on me with eyes that had a motive.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do”

Before I could speak, I felt pressure against my lips. Soft, subtle even pressure, against my lips. He was cruel. I found myself melting into his mouth, wanting more than just a chaste kiss. His firm hands snaked around my hips, allowing the cloth to fall at our feet. Gripping tightly, I yelped, earning him access to explore my moist cavern. Knots found their way into my abdomen. I was excited as a thick fog claimed my vision.

In that moment, I did not give Jimin a second thought. It had been so long since I’d be touched like this, felt wanted like this. Taehyung respected my space, time and individualism. He was enticing, comforting and appreciative. God, he was a bastard for that.

[castiel-writerofthelord-blog]

I’m Sorry

Chapter 5: We’re Sorry (Finale)

Word Count: 1281

Warnings: Angst all the way, finale feels

A/N: Wooo we’ve hit the finale for I’m Sorry and it’s been a great ride! Not gonna lie, nearly started crying at the end here but I held it together because I’m a bRaVE lITtlE HONEY BEE! I’ve been really proud of this fic though, all thanks to a S13 woes list JimmiNovak answered a little while ago and PorcelainCas’ suggestion and need to have a fic about it. SOOO HERE WE IS ARE!

Summary: After another successful hunt Sam can’t take it anymore and pushes Dean to talk about Cas’ death, and then does a little mourning himself.

* * M A S T E R L I S T * *

Dean set a six pack of beer on the bunker’s table with Sam behind holding two pizza boxes in his arms which he set down by the pack of beer. Sam had a confused but content grin on his face; eyebrows raised to see Dean with a smile of his own. Dean knew it was an illusion, a facade he would have to keep just a little longer. “Good to see you doing better, Dean.”

“It’s the little things, Sammy. Beer, pizza, my brother, and finishing a good case.”

Sam let out a huff as he shook his head. It was better than nothing.

They sat in the cinema with their beer and pizza catching up on the latest Game of Thrones season on Netflix. Every now and again Dean let his facade slip, his grin faded and left, his pain apparent. He had spent eight years with that angel and he was gone and on Dean’s watch - he’ll never forgive himself. Sam was taking it better. He still had hope, even after everything that’s happened to them; Dean wasn’t going to crush that even if he didn’t believe it himself.

Pack of beer: gone, pizza: half gone, Game of Thrones episode: three. Sam had been noticing Dean’s drop in mood halfway through the second one and decided to put it on pause. Dean simply gave his brother a glance out of his peripherals as he threw back the last mouthful of beer.

“What’s up? Need to make a beer run?”

“Um, no Dean. Look man you act like you’re fine but you’re not; you’re gonna have to talk about it.”

“Sam, I’m fine. Now do we need more beer?”

“You aren’t, man. I know my brother, Dean.” Sam ignored Dean’s attempted escape, he hated pushing his brother like this, but if he didn’t it would get out of hand again.

Dean shifted in his seat, hand still clenching the bottle so tight he was amazed it didn’t shatter. “If you know me Sam, then you know to knock it off before I have to beat you down.”

“Do it then! You love Cas and you can talk about it, Dean! Keeping it to yourself is going to kill you, man.”

Dean licked his lips slightly, deciding whether or not to actually hit him. His body decided for him however when tears started to swell, blurring his vision. “I miss him, Sammy.” He finally breathed as tears flooded over and down his cheeks. “He died on my watch, Sammy! That is my mistake and I can’t fix it.”

Sam had worry and sadness in his eyes as he got up and held his arms out. He knew what it was like to lose someone you love and knew it hurt like hell too. “Chick flick moment man. Come on.”

Sam didn’t have to say another word for Dean to plunge himself out of the chair but his knees gave out as he collapsed in front of him in sobs. “He’s gone Sam, he’s gone and it’s because I loved him, just like every other thing I love does!” Sam sighed and knelt down to wrap his arms around his brother. He’s never seen Dean like this before in his life and it killed him inside.

They seemed to sit there for hours while Dean sobbed, clawed away, and then whimpered to be held again all while sobbing his thoughts about Cas out loud. The most common cries were ‘I miss you’ and ‘I’m sorry’, but during Dean’s sobs Sam had thought to himself, I’m sorry too, Castiel. We both are.

“I guess I do love that dorky little guy.” Dean said in an exasperated tone as he sat back on his heels and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Sam was the only person Dean had ever said those words to out loud, and finally saying it felt like a weight being lifted off his chest.

Sam and Dean sat like this for another hour while Dean retold the things he loved about Cas, tearing up again every now and then as Sam listened with a surprised smile on his face whenever Dean’s eyes lit up. Sam could tell how proud Dean was of Cas. The way his lip quivered when he crossed sadder territory all while he looked so genuine and at ease talking about Cas despite how much it hurt.

After Dean’s stories and tears mixed with the exhaustion of the recent case caused his eyelids to grow heavy as he pushed himself up on his feet. “I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too much later.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, Dean. Thank you for talking about it.” Sam pursed his lips in an attempted smile. Dean stopped at the door and paused with a tired grin of his own.

“Thanks Sam. Goodnight, bitch.”

“Jerk.” Dean hummed a last goodbye as he passed the threshold into the hall to leave Sam to clean up after their dinner of cheese, tomato sauce, and grease on bread.

Most nights since Cas has died Dean has spent his time sleeping in Cas’ room. He was able to sleep without too many nightmares he could manage to catch some shut eye. Tonight was going to be no different as Dean made a b-line to Cas’ room but stopped himself with his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and let his hand drop from the knob, pressed his lips to his fingers and then his fingers to the wood of the door. “I’m gonna miss you, Cas.” He turned his back and went across the hall to his own room.

Sam closed the door to the fridge after throwing the rest of the leftover pizza inside, he knew Dean would finish it off in the morning whether he felt normal or not. He woke his phone for the time, only 12:23. At least it wasn’t too late for him. On his way down the hall he was already sluggishly yanking off his red flannel over his shoulders but stopped a few steps past Dean and Cas’ rooms.

He took a deep breath and peered into Dean’s first to see his brother already asleep with his face buried into the pillow. “Maybe... it really did help.” He whispered to himself then turned his head to Cas’ room and swallowed a lump in his throat.

Sam crossed the hall and entered the room. It was basically empty besides the mix tape on the dresser, destroyed from the angel blade that ended the angel’s life. For Dean to have gotten the tape he would have had to of taken it from Cas’ corpse before the fire was lit. Everything about the sight was forlorn. “Oh, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

He tugged it open. Empty. He let out a short but painful chuckle as Dean’s stories replayed in his head. “So typically Cas.” He collapsed on the bed and clasped his hands together, thumbs pressing between his eyes as tears threatened to breach the fortress he had built. “Crap. Hey, um, Cas, I know I’m not Dean but I miss you too, man. Dean really loved- really loves you, Cas. I’m sorry he realized it too late.” Tears now cascaded freely down his face as he ran his fingers through his hair to push it away in hopes of keeping something from getting wet. “I love you too, Cas; you’re family. We’re sorry we couldn’t do anything to help. We’re so sorry, Castiel. I promise I’ll take care of Dean for you. He won’t kill himself on my watch.”

Sam rose from the bed with a small squeak of the springs returning to their original place. As he made his way past the dresser where the broken cassette tape rested with a layer of dust already  on it; he lightly patted the wood with another small, forced, and painful chuckle.

“See you later, Cas.”

Taglist: @porcelaincas @mile9213

[fae-fucker]

The One: Chapter 23

Blah blah blah, Daddy’s dead (heart attack), America is having a Sad™. 

I sat up and threw myself into Maxon’s arms. He held me tightly, letting me weep into his shoulder.

“Daddy,” I cried. “Daddy.”

This fruit is a vegetable at this point.

Anyway, she leaves to visit her family and Maxon wants to come with, but the king -- rightfully -- tells him he’s an idiot for wanting to leave the palace with a bunch of rebels running around murdering people. 

1) This makes sense and Clarkson is still somehow framed as being wrong.

2) Why does it even matter if Maxon leaves? The rebels have proven that they easily can get in if they want to. Which begs the question: Why haven’t they done that yet? 

WHATEVER. Aspen is conveniently summoned so KCass can remind us that he still exists.

“We’ve already had some local officers dispatched to her home and to the sites being used over the next few days, and there are still palace-trained guards there, of course. [...]”

Palace-trained? Huh? Aspen works in the palace and he was picked out of a bunch of drafted dudes meant for the army, no? Wtf? 

And why are there palace-trained guards OUTSIDE of the palace? 

“Good. You’ll be heading up the team going with her. Pick whomever you like, between six and eight guards.”

Aspen raised his eyebrows.

“I know,” Maxon conceded. “We’re stretched tight right now, but at least three of the palace guards we’ve sent to her house have already abandoned their posts. And I want her to be as safe as, if not safer than, she is here.”

1) How many palace guards do these idiots have? Three of the ones already sent implies there are even more for each girl. Maybe y’all get invaded so much because your guards are all over the country instead of IN THE PALACE WHERE THEY SHOULD BE?

2) Shouldn’t the guards from the other girls’ houses have returned at this point? Why are they still stretched thin?

3) Why in the fuck have the guards sent there left their posts? What? Why? Why is this glossed over? 

4) Aspen is just a regular-ass guard. Why does he suddenly have the authority here? And why is Maxon giving the orders? Shouldn’t there be some sort of captain of the guard? Some head of security? Whatever.

Aspen leaves and Maxon and America hold hands.

A sense of peace encircled us, the way it did sometimes. Even though my world would never be the same now, for that moment, with Maxon holding me, the loss didn’t ache so much.

I mean you replaced your daddy with your Daddy so I guess what’s the difference, right?

Seriously though, wtf???

MY DAD JUST DIED but hey I have a cute boy so it’s cool.

???

So whatever she arrives at her home and her whole family is there and THERE’S A CUTE BABY WOOO.

Kota is being a douche and KCass sees this as the perfect opportunity to make America act all ... I don’t fucking know. You tell me.

“Kota!” I said, stepping away from my sisters and Lucy. “You can sleep on the couch or in the garage or in the tree house for all I care; but if you don’t check your attitude, I’ll send you back to your apartment right now! Have some gratitude for the security you’ve been offered. Need I remind you that tomorrow we’re burying our father? Either stop the bickering or go home.” I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. Without checking, I knew Lucy was right behind me, suitcase in hand.

I opened the door to my room, waiting for her to come in with me. Once her skirts swished past the frame, I slammed it shut, heaving a sigh.

“Was that too much?” I asked.

“It was perfect!” she replied with delight. “You might as well be the princess already, miss. You’re ready for it.”

Holy shit do I not give a flying fuck anymore.

The whole chapter just feels. Empty? Emotionless? Like it’s a list of stuff happening?

And while that could supposedly be America feeling “numb”, she barely even thinks about her dad, and the chapter ends on ... well on that, more wank about how awesome America is even though this is completely irrelevant and inappropriate. Cakeass just randomly killed him off for shits and giggles, and it wasn’t even a rebel attack or any fight (her dad was a rebel obvs), but some heart problems that hadn’t been mentioned before? What was the point of this? Last-minute angst?

I mean Clarkson and Amberly and Celeste will get blasted at the end too, I think. Like why? Why are you doing this?

“Shit shit, I have no climax! Better murder everybody for no reason!”

Stay classy, KCassy.