#but giving a direct compliment? impossible. unheard of.

[starbuck]

i’m very invested in the tragic aspects of the dynamic, but the degree to which Flint is Billy’s Emotionally Unavailable Father is also just very, very funny. He doesn’t even dislike Billy, but he never says a nice thing about him to his face even once.

[slashbitch2]

i wanna hear you calling my name

kind of a continuation of this but it's not necessary to understand

Carla swore she never felt more at home than when she was at a party.

There was just something about the chaotic atmosphere that appealed to her. Perhaps it was the fact her friends would finally match her energy level, or the alcohol coursing through her system which made her feel anything was possible. Nonetheless, something insane would happen each time, giving her some unbelievable memories to figure out the next morning, and she was certain that tonight would be no exception to this usual routine. Hell, she'd been one of the organisers, so it was bound to be entertaining at least.

Actually, 'organiser' was a stretch. Kiki and Amy had done the majority of the groundwork; sending out invites, clearing space in the house and all the boring shit. Carla had done the alcohol run and bribed confirmed that the neighbours weren't going to file any noise complaints. Then, she'd set up the music and made one huge, fucking obnoxious banner reading 'Happy 2 Years Without the Wicked Bitch of McKinley!' which Amy made her later correct to 'Happy 2nd Anniversary as PTA President Amy Mitchell!' Although, on the few occasions that one of the guests complimented her handiwork, she informed them of the original design.

You see, her goal tonight was to make people laugh. She wanted, no, needed to get your attention somehow.

Speaking of, you always seemed to be at the centre of the party, constantly surrounded by an impenetrable group of friends. So it was almost impossible to get you to notice her antics- not that she was jealous or anything- Carla Dunkler didn't have enough interest to spare on anyone, regardless of how hot they were. Still, she couldn't help but glance at you every few minutes. It became an unofficial mission to catch you looking back and her. Though thus far she'd been failing miserably.

Deciding she needed to up her game, Carla downed the remainder of her drink, leaving the now empty cup behind as she marched towards the makeshift dancefloor that had formed.

"Scuse me." She shoved the first line of moms to the side (the morning joggers, so they didn't pose much of a challenge). "Coming through." Then ducked past the self-dubbed 'Karens', whom she didn't particularly want to disturb. Finally, all that remained was your group: the moms you wanna be, or fuck in this case.

"Sorry I just-" She was cut off as one of the more aggressive dancers nearly elbowed her in the face. "I just need to get through." Despite repeating with more volume, her request was equally unheard. The aggressive dancer (Lindsey, maybe?) suddenly swung her leg backwards in an obnoxiously violent move, nearly taking Carla out in the process.

Once she'd regained her balance, it became apparent that Lindsey was the weak link. She grabbed the woman's arm. "Move!" And tugged her back with the same aggression she'd been subjected to only moments ago.

Lindsey stumbled back, lost her footing and fell straight into the Karens- so she was likely screwed. But whatever fate had in store for her was inconsequential since her expulsion cleared space for her to infiltrate your group. She stepped forward into the gap with her eyes fixed on the floor, careful not to tread on anyone's toes. She'd come so far, being kicked out simply wasn't an option.

"Hey!" A friendly voice convinced her to look up. It was you. "Carla, right?" Your face was flushed from both alcohol and the heat of the party, which on most people would look pretty unappealing, but on you it had the opposite effect.

"Yeah, that's me." She flipped her hair over her shoulders, this part was her specialty. "Dance with me?" She asked, or rather stated.

"Sure!" With drunk confidence, one of your hands sought out Carla's, immediately pulling her into the middle of the group. There wasn't much space, but that could only work in her favour.

Unsurprisingly, the confidence carried over into your dancing, though it was anything but unwarranted. You swayed your hips in time with the music, the movement travelling up through the rest of your body, and admittedly, you were a damn good dancer. Carla even found herself repeatedly distracted, forgetting that she was meant to be seducing you, not the other way around.

Another mom bumped into her which she took as an excuse to move closer. At that point you were spinning round, but feeling her close the distance, you decided to stop when your back pressed against her front. Carla's breath was stolen from her as you started grinding. There was barely any distance between you. With each inhale she could smell your perfume, and with each exhale, her breath mingled with yours. It was intoxicating. Overwhelming. She loved it.

Her hands snaked round your waist upon regaining a modicum of self control, brushing up and down your sides with the rhythm. Sometimes you would encourage her by placing your hands over hers, guiding them to wherever you desired, and for once she was more than happy to let someone else take the lead. Eventually she gained the courage to press her lips to the skin of your neck, which motivated you to let your head fall back onto her shoulder. Her mouth then trailed down to your exposed collarbones, though she longed to go further. Each kiss was messy, leaving behind a wet trail, but shit it was perfect. You were perfect.

The rest of the room seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. Carla was certain she'd never wanted anything- or anyone more in her life than right now. Desire burned increasingly hot in the pit of her stomach, yet there was no rush. Amy had told Kiki once, while she was drunk because that's when Amy's at her most wise, that she ought to live in the moment more. And although the advice didn't necessarily apply to Carla, that's exactly what she was doing anyway. Upon first laying eyes on you earlier in the evening, she'd decided it was time to make a move, time to finally quench the insatiable crush she'd had on you for the past year. And she was going to enjoy every second of it.

As Carla grabbed the back of your head, the world around her seemed to move in slow motion. Still you caught on quickly enough, leaning in the direction with closed eyes. Your lips clashed together urgently, both moaning at the first real taste of the other, the first taste of what was to come. Carla was practically devouring your mouth, desperate to show off despite the awkward angle. Though clearly it worked as you abandoned dancing a minute later to turn around and grab hold of her. Your hands shifted up to cup her face and the kiss slowed, becoming sweet rather than bruising.

She broke away to drag her tongue along to your ear. "My house or yours?"

"Who said we need a house?" You scoffed. "My car's parked right outside."

[missallsundayyy]

Breaking Boundaries

First oneshot for my first post here and there’s no better ship/pair i’d rather write than Nico Robin & Roronoa Zoro

Things were lively on the Sunny Go as usual. Franky was upgrading the canons on the ship, Chopper and Ussop were being...well...being them as usual. Luffy was bugging Sanji in the kitchen asking/whining when was lunch going to be served and in his words.

"foooooooood SANJIIIIIIIIIIIII!!" the famous straw hat captain yelled from the other side of the kitchen.

"SHUT UP YOU RUBBER GLUTTON"

Nami was focusing on the weather and the sea behavior, navigating the crew to their next destination whilst Brook was beside her asking if he could see her panties in which he received a punch that sent him flying through the ship's walls. Thus starting a fight with the shipswright that was just beside the wall that was destroyed.

"WATCH WHERE YOU LAND ASSHOLE!!!" Franky screamed out.

"Yohoho!! don't get your panties in a twist Franky-sannn"

Aside from all the chaos was the crew's infamous swordsman, Zoro whom was doing impossible training once again. Lifting weights that no humans could ever lift.

"890...891...892.."

He grunts out in training, muscles flexing, his body coated with sweat. He did this everyday at the same spot the moment the sun starts to rise until Sanji calls them for lunch. Not far from the green-haired man.....well in fact maybe 5metres away from him was the ship's beautiful archeologist Nico Robin. Seated as usual on her umbrella armchair with a book on hand. 

She was wearing her spaghetti strap purple tank top that did no effort to cover her large breast and a very small tight fitting jean shorts. It was a very hot day at that, she had put her hair up in a ponytail which was rare because usually she prefered her hair down. Even though it was scorching hot outside and she could just retreat into her room where it would definitely be cooler but it was out of habit that she situated herself here when she read.

She’s elated to be where she was right now. Doing what she loved and surrounded by nakamas that accepted her, cared for her, protected her and loved her. She would give her life 100 million times over for the Straw Hats without a second thought. Back at Enies Lobby she was afraid that that they would find her a burden, a thorn in the flesh even when they proved that they will fight the whole world fearlessly for her. Comparing then and now she was flabbergasted at how many things have changed. Everyone has gotten stronger, more matured. The bond Robin shared with the crew was strong that not even God can sever it, that she was certain for.

Her mind wandered everywhere and anywhere, she wasn't even focusing on the book she was reading anymore. She summarised everything in her head with a content look on her face.

The sounds of Zoro's grunting and counting snapped Robin back to reality, her eyes diverted to the green haired crew member. Her eyes shamelessly stared at his god like body that was now glistening in sweat due to the monstrous work out he does everyday. His muscles was amazing, his abs was rock hard and his chest looked like steel plates had been implanted in him. His face was fierce and focus, never losing concentration.

Zoro was a very very veryyy handsome man, that was what Robin had always thought even when she first joined the crew. She knew he was a very powerful man and a dangerous one at that, the crew was blessed to have such interesting and indestructible members and Roronoa Zoro was one of them. He had many cons to him...well according to Nami and Sanji's list. He sleeps too much, he was too direct with his words so more often than not he always comes off as an "asshole". He drinks too much when he isn't sleeping or training and to top the icing on the cake, he couldn't find his way to the ship's toilet even if his bladder depended on it.

Robin however found him to be interesting as hell and even charming most times. How he was always the calm one amongst all of them and he was a very wise man that stick by his words. He was a strong man with honour and pride. He will no doubt be the type to keep a promise even if will be his demise. Robin didn't know she had a type until she met Zoro, the more time she has with the swordsman the larger her attraction for him grew.

Having a lover has never came across her mind, not that she wasn't interested in intimate relations before, it just never came up until she found herself glancing at him more than she should. Also the automatic position of their area happened to be beside each other every day so there was not much of a choice in that matter. She snapped back yet again to reality still staring at the handsome swordsman, she wouldn't admit it but internally she was swooning over his very very shredded body.

"Oi oi Robin, your staring is bothering me. You should read at your room today, your face is red from the weather right now."  Zoro called out to Robin who was unintentionally caught gawking at him although being the dense man he was, he of course would have not though that she was checking him out.

Zoro had placed all this training equipments down and was now walking towards the self fantasising historian that still had her eyes glued onto him. He walked a few steps towards Robin and stood beside her, taking her lemonade drink right from her side table and gulping all of it down with greed-thirst sounds.  This was another normal thing between them, she would have her drink but she would never drink any of it because before she could, he would always finish it up unless she had coffee. He never did understood how she could swallow the damn bitter beverage. She also was starting to think that subconsciously she would bring the drink for him instead of her.

"Zoro-kun. Sorry for bothering your training  but I don't mind a little heat today and besides the weather has been quite gloomy these past weeks, don't you agree?" Robin held her face with her palm, her usual signature posture. She now sat upright never breaking her stare.

"Rain or shine won't hinder me from my training." Zoro stated simply.

"Fufufu, yet my staring has disturbed your workout?" Robin teased him.

"Tch. You've been doing that a lot lately woman." he turned his head away, folding his arms. Ever since the crew reunited after being seperated for two years, Zoro had noticed Robin's change the most. She had gotten stronger, wiser and more matured in many different aspects.

She would tease him or outsmart him in their little chats which irate the man but in a good way.

"I was thinking if I could company you on watch today if you don't mind." Robin asked hopefully.

Zoro turned his head back to her "Sure. You can do can do whatever you want woman. Let's go to the kitchen already, bet that love cook will start yelling for us anytime soon." he was already walking towards the kitchen but in a pace that told her that he would be walking with her and not just leaving her like that. She smiled and followed him.

"ROBIN CHWANNN! You're looking veryyyyy SEXYYY TODAY!! The lunch I have prepared for you today is just as hot and spicy as you are!!!" Sanji greeted Robin that had walked in with Zoro whom by the way Sanji had not scoop his share onto a plate yet.  Robin smiled at the flirtatious cook.

"That's very kind of you cook-san, this looks delicious. As always your culinary skills are impressive." Robin replied politely, frankly only Robin would acknowledge Sanji's aggressively manic compliments. 

"Tch. Stupid love cook." Zoro muttered under his breath which didn't went unheard by the cook of course.

"What??? YOU WANNA GO ASSHOLE?"

"I WON'T WASTE MY TIME WITH THE LIKES OF YOU"

"YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS THAT ROBIN IS COMPLIMENTING ME INSTEAD OF YOU"

"WHY WOULD I BE JEALOUS OF YOU, YOU'RE A BIGGER CLOWN THAN THAT RED NOSE BUGGY"

The fight between the two men continued while the crew watched on amused, nothing new on the ship.

"HEY LUFFY THAT'S MY FRUIT PUNCH DON'T DRINK IT"

"Cmmonnnnnn Chopper give me some, I'm lazy to go refill..."

Chopper and Luffy both had their hands on the cup that was filled with the cool drink and they both were playing tug rope with the cup and well unfortunately for them the cup had tipped and all of its contents is now spilling at the person that was sitting in the middle of them. That person was......Robin.

*SPLASH*

The room was now silent, Sanji and Zoro's bickering was on hold because of the light spill sound that interrupted everyone.

"Oh shit.." Franky muttered

The red beverage was now seeping through Robin's tank top. Her chest and thighs was now covered with the sweet drink and it was dripping. Robin looked down at her now soiled clothing.

"Oh my.." was all she said.

"Robinnn....im sorry!! I didn't..we didn't mean to ruin your clothes!!" Chopper started exclaiming, feeling guilty. "OI LUFFY! This is your fault you know!! APOLOGISE TO ROBIN NOW!"

Luffy had one hand behind his head, scratching while having a goofy grin "Sorry Robin it was an accident...please don't be mad"

"SERIOUSLY. Why can't the men in this crew behave like proper men in FOR ONCE! You guys are barbaric and I don't know how two beautiful women like me and and Robin got stuck with you guys!!" This time the screaming and yelling was now coming from the ship's navigator.

Robin wasn't mad, in fact she enjoyed all their shenanigans. The crew made life fun, they make her feel alive and everyday she will always have a smile on her face. "It's okay Luffy its okay Chopper. I will go and change into a new shirt." she said with a laughter.

"Well there you go Nami, you heard Robin. She's not mad so I don't see why you're all worked up." Franky joined in to which he received a death glare from the money obsessed pirate.

In the midst of the whole conversation Zoro had been staring at Robin's wet stained shirt accident. Everyone was too busy bickering with each other they had failed to notice that the water just made Robin's voluptuous figure even more prominent. The outline of her huge breast could be seen through the god damn tank top and the fruit punch was still dripping down her cleavage and most of it had splashed onto her thick thighs.

He didn't know what he was doing but he liked what he was seeing. Robin was a beautiful woman and he knew that. She had the perfect curves and her assets were anything but small. She had matured into a sexy woman and he could never deny that. The sight that she had unintentionally presented him with was very fucking pleasing to his eyes. His eyes glued to her soft skin and the way the water would drip down her cleavage because she was laughing and causing her chest to move tentalizingly. He knew she wasn't doing it on purpose but she was sexy without even trying. He shook his head and tried to clear the dirty thoughts that was now forming in his mind 'Why the hell am I thinking about her like that' his mind yelled at him.

"Well excuse me, I am going to take a bath since the punch has made my body all sticky now." Robin stood up and walked towards the door. Sanji on the other hand had knock both Luffy and Chopper's head while yelling something like 'Look what you guys did!' 'Robin-chan's lunch is ruined' 'assholes'

-BOOOOOOOOOMMM-

A loud crash was heard 1 minute after Robin had exited the kitchen. Zoro and Sanji both had dashed out of the door in a fighting stance-run. 

"Whats' going on now!!" Nami yelled.

"Looks like Luffy fell asleep" Franky muttered in half disbelief and half lazed tone.

"ROBIN CHANNN!! ARE YOU OKAY?" Sanji yelled frantically.

Zoro had drawn his katana out ready to slice anyone whom had dared to attack their ship and more importantly Robin.

"So this is the infamous Strawhat crew everyone has been talking about?? You don't seem much if i managed to cuff your deliciously beautiful crewmate here. If i know you guys had such a sexy pirate lady, we would have attacked you sooner!" The malicious voice came from Captain Deck from the Sink Pirates; notorious for sinking every ship they come across with. He was however not interested in woman and was quick to carry Robin and throwing her off the Sunny Go to everyone's horror.

"ROBIN NNNN!!" Chopper and Nami's voiced chorus together,

"ROBIN -CHWANNNN! YOU SHITTY BASTARD HOW DARE YOU TOUCH THE LADIES OF THIS SHIP I WILL POUND YOU UNTIL YOUR INSIDES COME OUT ASSHOLE!!" Sanji shouted with fire engulfing his whole body.

Zoro of course had already jumped in right after Robin was thrown into the sea. His first priority was definitely saving his nakama. Slicing every last one of his enemy would later be the second priority. He dived deep and because he immediately jump in right when Robin was thrown in, she hadn't sink too far for his vision. She was still conscious, eyes wide with shocked with everything that has transpired. He could understand her fear, you can be the strongest fighter with the best abilities but its all over if you get thrown into the water. Her hands was desperately reaching for Zoro. She knew she was safe, drowning in the sea or not, she had her nakama protecting her and always having her back.

He grabbed Robin's hand and pulled her into his body and quickly swam back up in full speed. When they reached the surface, he found himself swimming to an island, the Sunny Go and his crewmates were no where in sight. Now he was just confused, how the hell did he got all the way here now. He now carried Robin bridal style whilst walking on shore since she was weakened by the effects of the sea water.

He lay her down on the grass part of the island and stood up to survey their foreign surroundings.

"Oi woman you okay?" he asked her with concern although he wasn't facing her. Robin who now had herself up on her feet.

"Thank you Zoro-kun, i'm better now." Robin said smiling even if he wasn't looking to see it. "However, seems like we're stranded in here. How did you find this island?" she was already walking around surveying the flowers, sand, grass and anything that might tell her where they were. He scratched the back of his head, "I don't know how we end up here, my priority was only getting you out of the sea and next thing i know, i got us here." he said with a tone of frustration.

'ara...so this is how he looks like whenever we get seperated' Robin's amusing thoughts caused her to laugh behind him. He snapped his head to her "What's so funny woman" to which Robin smile "Nothing. Lets explore this island together, i'm sure Luffy and the others are already nearby." she suggested to which Zoro just grunted in agreement.

The both of them then ventured into the thick jungle of the island.

Meanwhile back at the Sunny Go.

"Geez you can definitely count on Zoro to be lost even when the ship was right above him." Franky grumbled while the crew set sailed for the island Ussop had spotted.

"That shitty asshole took Robin-chwann away! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME THAT SAVED HER AND WOULD PROBABLY BE ON THAT ISLAND WITH A VERY WET RO-" Sanji fainted from nose-bleed before he could finish his sentence.

"SANJIIIIII!!!" Chopper ran towards his perverted nakama.

"Leave him to die Chopper, he propably don't mind dying" Nami said while shaking her head.

"YOSH! FULL SPEED AHEAD TO THAT MEAT ISLAND MEN!" Luffy yelled to his crewmates.

"Oi oi what do you mean meat island" Ussop replied, "And we can leave stupidity to our captain. Zoro and Robin are missing and there he goes thinking about food" he finished leaving Nami and Chopper nodding their heads vigorously. Luffy laughed "Don't worry! They're strong and i'm not worried."

-BACK TO THE UNKNOWN ISLAND-

"Perhaps the plants here spit poison that could kill you in a second or maybe the soil might swallow you whole the moment you step on it." Robin said voicing her thoughts outloud.

"Oi Robin stop saying things like that." Zoro chastised the historian for always saying dark things.

"Fufufu sorry Zoro-kun." Robin giggled into her palm. 

"By the way......” he started “Robin,i'mgladyou'refineafter2years."

Zoro managed to choke all the words out as fast as he could. He was not one with sweet words but he somehow felt that before the seperation he was very cold with Robin out of all the members of the crew.

It had to do with the whole ‘Miss All Sunday’ business but now when he looked at her, it was as if everything in the past didn't matter anymore.Robin on the other hand was taken aback by his words, she would be lucky to get a grunt out of the swordsman but he was initiating a conversation first and to top that off, he was telling her how he was glad that SHE was okay.

"I'm happy to hear that. You've grown handsomely in two years Zoro-kun" She replied him with a genuine smile. His face instantly reddened from embarasssment. There she goes again, he thought. Always saying things like that and now he looks like a cat just bit his tongue.

"W..we..well you'vegrownbigtoO!"

Robin laughed aloud "Are you saying that i’m fat Zoro-kun?" she stopped abruptly nearly making him crash behind her.

"What!" he panicked. Now these are one of her antics to get him all flustered.

"You said i've grown big, so does that mean I’m fat to you Zoro-kun?" She asked him with an innocent smile, teasing him was her favourite things to do.

"You know what I mean woman." Zoro grunted frustratedly, face still heated up. She? Fat? Farrr from it he thought. Her figure was amazing, perfect if he may be so bold to say.

"So after 2years of not seeing me, thaaat....is the only thing you noticed? I think cook-san has influenced you abit." This has got to definitely get THE reaction Robin was waiting for.

“IM NOTHING LIKE THAT SHITTY BASTARD OF A COOK AND YOU KNOW IT WOMAN!!" Robin laughed at his predictable reaction. "I'm joking Mr Swordsman." And there the nicknames comes again, this woman knew how to push his buttons well.

Then Robin did the unthinkable, she put her hands on her waist and came closer to Zoro and with a low sultry voice with a pose that would drive Sanji into his grave from nosebleed.

"So am I big enough or is there anything else I can change....for you Zoro-kun" Robin said suggestively. She have to admit whilst she finally have people to call her nakama she needed more. She wants that intimate attention just like every  woman. Intimacy wasn’t something she even had time for in the past, it never crossed her mind to romance with men. Now that she’s comfortable and know she has a place to call home, why the hell not.

Now he was just as red a beet, he didn't know why Robin was being flirty with him. She was usually the quiet one, calm, collected and only commented on things when it was necessary. Then again she was the only woman ironically that he didn’t mind invading his personal space. She and him was always in the same room in the ship every damn time and it wasn’t even planned nor did they ever agreed to always have each other’s back. He had always protected Robin, he would be there, ready to cut her enemies. Just like on sky island and fishmen island, as long as he’s around her he will put his life on the line for her

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t do the same for the crew but when he does save her, he feels something for her, he don’t know what he felt but he felt his pride and ego semi boosted from it. It was as if he wanted to impress her and show off how strong he was when she was around him. Maybe because all her life she was used to everyone betraying her or maybe she never had anyone protecting her. If she needed him to tell her that she wanted his protection, he would proudly declare that he will always protect and care for her.

Since she was graciously being so near him, his good eye clearly did not miss everything Robin had to offer. She was obviously testing the waters like this and eventhough he wasn't THAT type of man but he will be THAT if she wants it so bad. He will gladly play along with her game afterall he didn't enjoy being dominated like this.

Zoro grabbed Robin's waist roughly and pressed her figure with his hard and he brought his mouth against her ears.

"You better stop that Robin because i don’t think I can stop myself after this " Zoro growled with his grip tightening on her waist and back. That was an indefinite warning, he was ready to drop the whole ‘nakama’ thing and fuck her right there if she insisted on being a minx. Amazing that they had the whole island to themselves, amazing that his bad sense of direction got just the both of them alone, amazing that his crew wasn’t here to interrupt this moment and lastly Nico Robin was and amazing woman. His mind was flooded with thoughts of her and he thought he was going insane.

“I don’t want you to stop Zoro.” Her voice was filled with want, need, lust and when he looked into her eyes he knew that she only wanted HIM and he was the only one she trusted her body with. Right now her eyes was an open book and he could read every thoughts she had going through in her head.

Mentally he was battling a war, he shouldn’t be indulging in this but he knew he wanted this so bad he could kill someone.

 “Not here Robin.” It had took all of his will power to seperate him and Robin, all that lust and need. Trust him he really wanted to take her right there and then but... “Fufufu, that’s very considerate and sweet of you.”

[tanakavox]

Rowan and Summer meet Rosemary

A crossover done by me and @bssaz97, edited by @thatorigamiguy Thanks guys!

Zwei: ”Ah, I almost forgot to introduce you all to my partner. Come follow me and I’ll introduce you to her.”

He gestures for the twins to follow him as he begins walking in the opposite direction. The twins quickly matched his pace, a look of matching curiosity and excitement on their face at the thought of meeting Zwei’s partner.

Rowan: “Your partner? Cool! What kind of person are they? Are they nice? What kind of weapon do they use? Are they strong? Are they nice?”

Summer: “Are they a boy or girl? Have you two known each other for long? Do you two fight in a similar manner? Or do they have their own fighting style?”

Zwei couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the twins' inquisitive rambling, though it was more in fondness than exasperation. Their constant questioning reminded him of Ruby whenever she started drooling over a gun or was just excited in general about anything.

Zwei: *Internally* “Yep, they’re definitely Ruby’s children.”

Zwei’s lips twitched into a smirk at the thought, before he made to answer the twins before they could ask anymore questions.

Zwei: ”Her name is Rosemary. She’s been my best friend since we were practically toddlers. She uses an Axe that’s been modified into being a gun to compliment her semblance. No, we both have different fighting styles though they both compliment one another. She’s very strong, one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. And yes, she’s very nice. Though, she also tends to be rather mischievous when she wants to be and can be a bit of a hothead as well.

Rowan: “Really? That’s so cool! And she uses an axe too as well? That’s an excellent choice of weapon, good for powerful swings and penetrating heavy hides on Grimm. As a matter of fact, Summer is learning how to use an Axe as well, right sis?”

Rowan’s question went unheard, as Summer seemed to have been fixated on something that Zwei had mentioned when talking about his partner.

Summer: “You said she’s your best friend huh? And that you’ve known each since you were old enough to crawl?”

Rowan eyed his sister from the side, rolling his eyes as he began muttering about being so blatantly ignored.

Rowan: “Oh yeah sure, just ignore my question Sis. It’s not like I was talking to you or anything like that.”

Rowans' muttering went ignored as Summer patiently waited for an answer from Zwei. Zwei shot a curious glance over his shoulder at the question, before giving a quick shrug.

Zwei: “Maybe not that young, but we’ve known each other since we were about two or three years old.”

Summer: “Oh wow, you two have practically known each other your whole life! Sounds like they're about as close as Blaze, Joanna and Liena doesn’t it Bro?”

Rowan was still muttering to himself about being ignored, causing Summer to roll her eyes at her brothers sulking. Zwei in turn, merely ignored the two of them as he led them down the halls of Beacon to where the inner gardens were. They eventually found themselves outside and surrounded by lush greenery and plentiful flora. The cascade of vivid colors from all of the varying flowers and plantage was quite the sight to behold. Summer let out a small gasp of delight as she looked upon colorful and well maintained gardens. Even Rowan couldn’t help but gape at the mesmerizing gardens, his sulking having already been forgotten about. Zwei ignored the surrounding gardens, and instead made his way towards a lone person who was currently in the middle of watering some plants.

Upon getting closer, the person had turned out to be a woman with vibrant red hair that covered one of her violent eyes. She was dressed in gardening gear that had obviously seen a fair amount of use judging from the varying dirt and grass stains that were layered upon it, and the leather gloves and apron she wore having been warped and crimped from frequent usage. She was humming a cheerful tune to herself, when she noticed that she had company. A big smile plastered itself across her face as she quickly placed her watering can down before rushing over and immediately embracing Zwei, which he quickly returned. They held one another for a few seconds before they both separated from one another.

Rosemary: “Well, well, what brings you around my neck of the woods Z?”

Zwei’s smile quickly turned into a grimace, before letting out a groan of annoyance at Rosemary’s choice of words.

Zwei: “Ugh, really Rosie? Plant metaphors?”

Rosemary huffed in response, quickly crossing her arms as she gave Zwei a challenging look.

Rosemary: “Oh hush, you! It’s funny and you know it!”

Zwei merely gave her a deadpan look in response, clearly unimpressed with her lackluster attempt at humor.

Zwei: “Oh sure Rosie, it’s funny alright, if you have absolutely no taste in humor. But I suppose that’s what I should expect from someone that hangs around Yang all the time.”

Zwei didn’t even bother to stop the smirk that formed on his face as watched Rosemary immediately get flustered. Her face was as red as her hair, and her teeth were gritted together in anger. 

Rosemary: “Now listen here ya little mangy mutt!”

Zwei and Rosemary’s friendly greeting soon devolved into bickering between the two of them. Rowan and Summer both stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do as they didn’t wish to impede upon their conversation. At least, Rowan stood there awkwardly while his sister looked upon the bickering friends with stars in her eyes.

Summer: *Internally* ‘Oh brother’s, they have it so bad for one another that it’s unreal! And she’s perfect auntie material on top of that!’

Rosemary’s tirade was cut off when she finally noticed the twins standing behind Zwei. She quickly calmed herself down, before giving the two a curious look.

Rosemary: “Never figured you to be one to willingly put up with tagalongs Zwei. Did the headmaster finally manage to get you to take on some firsties for that leadership program?”

Zwei only scoffed at her words as he rolled his eyes in annoyance of ever having to teach his younger peers anything. 

Zwei: “I’d run face first into a brick wall with my semblance active before I’d ever willingly take on a group of first years. And to make a long and complicated story short, these are Jaune and Ruby’s kids.”

Rosemary: “...Wait, wha-”

Zwei: “From another dimension.”

Rosemary was doing her best impression of a gaping fish at the total bombshell Zwei casually dropped on her, before shutting her mouth with an audible click. Her eyes were pinched shut as she found herself taking in a long, deep, breath before exhaling with obvious exasperation. Her eyes snapped open to give Zwei a tired, withering stare.

Rosemary: “Not even time and space itself prevents your family from doing anything by halves, huh Z?”

Zwei simply shrugged, before shooting Rosemary a cocky grin.

Zwei: “You’ve known me and my family long enough Rosie. Since when have we ever been one’s to let the impossible stop us from doing anything?”

Rosemary went to give Zwei a response, before once again clicking her mouth shut in frustration.

Rosemary: “I hate the fact that I can’t actually prove you wrong on that. But at this point, I shouldn’t even be surprised at something like happening, it’s not like reality hasn’t practically been shattered around us before or anything like that.”

Zwei: “Now you’re just being emotional, and besides: what’s wrong with casually breaking all known laws of science and physics every now again?”

Rosemary: “...No comment.”

Rosemary gave Zwei a blank stare as she ignored his shit eating grin, before turning to regard the twins with a warm and welcoming smile.

Rosemary: “Well with that little bit of insanity out of the way, it’s nice to meet you two! I’m Rosemary Thornbush, and you two are?”

The twins eyed each other momentarily, before they both went to introduce themselves to the older women. 

Rowan: “I’m Rowan Rose-Arc, and it’s very nice to meet you Miss Rosemary.”

Rowan gave Rosemary a small, but polite smile as he gave her a quick wave in greeting. Summer on the other hand....

Summer: “Hi, I’m Summer Rose-Arc, and I’m really happy to meet you Miss Rosemary!”

Summer had practically launched herself at Rosemary as she took one of her gloved hands in hers, practically shaking her hand at the same pace of a jackhammer on steroids. Rosemary didn’t even so much as flinch at the act, having long since been used to such hyperactive behavior from dealing with Ruby on a near daily basis. A small squeal escaped past Rosemary’s lips as she took in the sight of the precious little girl in front of her before quickly pulling her into a hug.

Rosemary: “Oh Brother’s above, you’re just an absolute doll! Oh what precious little thing you are Summer.”

Summer’s face practically beamed with joy as she preened at Rosemary’s words of praise, returning her hug was just as much enthusiasm. Rowan couldn’t help but snort at the sight of the two girls quickly getting along with one another, while Zwei quietly snickered at the sight of Rosemary acting just as her mother would in such a situation. Though she denied it, Rosemary had a tendency to smother people in a bombastic manner like her mother often tended to do, though she was a lot less open about that particular habit.

Rowan let out a curious hum as he truly took in the garden that was surrounding them. He saw various pathways all neatly trimmed and cared for, all of which were lined with various species of flora. From his observations, he honestly wouldn’t be too surprised if Beacon had a greenhouse or two as well. 

Rowan: “By the way Miss Rosemary, do you mind if I ask why there’s so much focus on tending to all of the plant life here in Beacon? Is there some kind of curriculum based around it?”

Rosemary: “First of all: Just call me Rosemary or Rosie, Rowan. I’ve never been one for formalities and I’m certainly not my mother, that’s for sure.”

Rowan's face flushed red in embarrassment before muttering out an apology, only to give his sister a dirty look when she snickered at his reaction. His face soon matched his skin when Zwei also snickered at his reaction, though he was quickly silenced by a pointed look that Rosemary shot at him.

Rosemary: “Secondly: There is a curriculum of sorts. The gardens and greenhouses of Beacon have been a staple since its founding. Apparently the original headmaster was big on preserving endangered flora and plant life that was at risk of being wiped out due to human expansion and Grimm hordes destroying the terrain during their rampages.”

Rosemary released Summer from her grip, before she walked back over to the flowers she was tending to before they had arrived. There were several flowers that were in the middle of their blooming period, still several days away from fully blooming.

Rosemary: “While it had originally started as a preservation effort, it had eventually become part of the curriculum as a set of optional classes. Specifically for training huntsmen in medicines and survival courses. Being out in the fields for extended periods of time isn’t anything unusual to a career huntsmen, but that often means being out in the wild on your own with very little in conventional medicines and foods. Which often leaves you at the mercy of mother nature, and whatever mood she’s currently feeling at the moment.

Rowan and Summer were completely enraptured by Rosemary’s impromptu lecture, practically hanging onto every world. Zwei himself was paying rapt attention to Rosemary, though it certainly wasn’t because he was interested in hearing the same lecture he’s heard a million times from both Rosemary and his step-mother. 

Rosemary: “Aura can protect and heal your wounds, but it’s still a finite resource and it can’t keep you from going hungry or prevent your wounds from becoming infected or bones from setting right. There are loads of cases of huntsmen dying due to being unfamiliar with even the most basic of medical knowledge or because they ended up poisoning themselves from eating wild plant life they didn’t know was meant for consumption. Not to say that huntsmen are dying left and right due to being ignorant of basic survival tactics, but it does make up for quite a few deaths and casualties every year. And as such, that’s why it’s been a part of the Beacon curriculum for quite sometime and even though it’s technically still considered an ‘optional,’ class.”

Rosemary emphasized the word “optional,” with a sneer and air quotes, causing the twins to giggle at and Zwei smile at her obvious feelings on the subject.

Rosemary: “It’s still heavily encouraged by most of the faculty and the current headmaster himself to take the course and to be familiar with at least the basics. The Class is currently taught under the instruction of Thumbelina Xiao-Long who, by the by, is also Beacons official doctor for the student body and my mentor. She’s a bit soft spoken, but she’s also an absolutely brilliant woman and takes her role of an instructor and healer very seriously.”

Rowan and Summer both nodded along, before Rowan piped up with another question.

Rowan: “Professor Xiao-Long is the current instructor of the class? Then I must imagine she has quite the green thumb if she’s the school's expert in medication and survival.”

Rosemary: “You would be one hundred percent correct Rowan! An astute observation on your part.”

Rosemary shot Rowan a sincere smile, causing him to blush at the sudden praise he received. He tried to ignore the snickering of Summer and Zwei, though both were quickly silenced when Rosemary gave them both another pointed look.

Rosemary: “Yes, Thumbelina does in fact have quite the green thumb and it’s practically a requirement for being able to instruct the survival class. You have to have a thorough knowledge of flora and their medicinal properties, while also being familiar with what’s edible and safe to eat versus what’s dangerous for consumption. It’s also important because you have to be familiar with various poisons and toxins that Grimm produce and that both assassins and rouge huntsmen use and how to either treat or stall their spread.”

Summer: “Wow, sounds like professor Xiao-Long is one smart cookie then!”

Rosemary: “Like I said, she’s a brilliant woman to work with, and I’ve learned a whole lot from tutoring under her.”

Rosemary went to say more, only to be abruptly interrupted by an annoyed looking Zwei.

Zwei: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, she’s such a ‘smart’ and ‘well read’ woman. Alright Rosie, this has been riveting, but are you done kissing my step-moms ass already or are you going to keep on rambling?”

Rosemary’s mouth dropped for only a second, before her cheeks flushed red with anger and she had gotten a fierce look in her eyes.

Rosemary: “Ah shut ya trap you mangy fur ball! Ya just angry that your Ma refuses to give you an easy pass in the class just because you’re family!”

Rowans and Summers' eyes widened as Rosemary went from being happy and cheerful, to having a full on Northern Vale accent. Zwei winced as her accent flared up, only to glare back at her in defiance.

Zwei: “I’m not angry at all! Ever since she took you on as an apprentice, all you ever do is go on and on about how ‘brilliant,’ and ‘passionate,’ she is!”

Rosemary: “It’s called having a healthy appreciation for someone Zwei! Sorry if that seems to upset ya for some reason, but I fail to see why ya care so much about it!”

Zwei: “Healthy appreciation, my ass! You're practically obsessed with her and all of her studies and theories, you may as well have a huge crush from how much you gush about her!”

Rosemary: “N-no I don’t! Ya just saying that because-”

Zwei and Rosemary once again broke down into bickering with one another, completely ignoring the twins once again. Rowans looked on with concern written on his face, wondering if he should say something or intervene with the fight. Summer, on the other hand, watched them with a cheshire grin planted firmly on her face. 

It was easy to see that there was little to no heat behind any of their words, even with the two of them practically shouting at one another. Secondly, Zwei had purposely goaded Rosemary into the argument, not even bothering to be subtle about it. And it was clearly obvious to Summer that Rosemary had the ability to keep a cool head and could have avoided getting into an argument with Zwei, but that she all but yanked on the obvious bait that had been laid out in front of them. All in all, they came off as an old arguing couple that were arguing for the sake of arguing rather than two people that were truly mad at one another.

Summer: *Internally* ‘Oh yeah, they definitely have it bad for one another!’

Summer snickered at the thought, before she gave a polite cough to grab the arguing pairs attention. Zwei and Rosemary were practically in each other's faces when they both froze, and looked over to see that they still had people present. Rowan had suddenly found the ground to be the most fascinating thing in the world, while Summer was trying(and failing) to hide a smug smile at their behavior.

Summer: “Do you two need a moment? I’ve been told that a lover's spat is usually dealt with in private, rather than the whole world to see.”

Summer thought she would get a further reaction out of them, only to become confused when neither Zwei or Rosemary gave each other a look, before they started laughing as if they had just heard a funny joke.

Rosemary: “Ha! Me and this guy dating? Not in a million years!”

Zwei: “Sorry to disappoint you Ruby Junior, but while we’re close we’re not that close with one another.”

The two continued to share a good laugh with one another, which only served to confuse Summer more than she already was! It was obvious they had feelings for one another! They had all of the textbook signs of being attracted to one another, how could they not see this! Summer went to call them out on this, before she was interrupted by her twin.

Rowan: “You know it’s not polite to assume they’re dating based solely off of looks alone Summer.”

Summer: “What?! But, but-!”

Rowan: “And even if they were, it’s not nice to call them out like that either. It’s rude, and you know you were taught better than that.”

Summer couldn’t do anything but openly gawk at her brother’s scolding, her mouth open and closing as she tried to(and completely failed to) formulate a response to how the situation had completely been turned against her. Not helping matters was the fact that Zwei and Rosemary were both openly snickering as Summer was being reprimanded by her brother in an eerily similar fashion to how their mother would have been scolding them.

Zwei: “Snk! Yeah Summer, it’s pretty arrogant of you to just up and assume that Rosemary and I are dating just because it looks like we’re having a lovers spat.”

Rosemary: “Pfff! Yeah hon, you shouldn’t just assume something based off of first impressions alone. That kind of attitude will just come back to bite you in the ass sooner or later.”

The pair continued to laugh as Summer’s cheeks had flushed red enough to match her namesake, before she quietly muttered out an apology while she desperately wished she could sink into the ground. Rowan kept a neutral facade, though inwardly he couldn’t help but smile as his sister was now the target of some embarrassment. After a few more teasing comments from his tour guides, Rowan had decided to end his sister's torment.

Rowan: “Okay, I think you two have gotten your kicks in and my sister has been thoroughly embarrassed enough.”

Zwei and Rosemary both quickly picked up on what Rowan was saying, and after another brief round of chuckles and one last teasing remark or two, they had both finally let up on Summer.

Rosemary: “Ah man, the look on your face was priceless! Ah, but enough of that, I think she’s not going to make any more assumptions soon, don’t you think Zwei?”

Zwei: “Mmmmh, yeah I think our would-be romantist has learned her lesson.”

Summer let out a sigh of relief, only to wince when Zwei’s eyes narrowed and he got a devious smirk on his face.

Zwei: “For now.”

Summer could only groan at the thought of future teasing, while her brother could only roll his eyes at her reaction. Doing his best to ignore his sister's despair, he addressed Rosemary yet again as a sudden thought occurred to him about something she had mentioned earlier.”

Rowan: “You mentioned that you were Professor Xiao-Long's apprentice earlier? I’d imagine that the requirements would be having an extensive knowledge of flora and medicines, as well as having a way with plants yourself?”

Rosemary: “Pretty much, though It also helps that my semblance is practically tailor made for the position.”

At the mentions of her Semblance, both siblings perked up with excitement with Summer’s previous air of misery quickly evaporating.

Rowan/Summer: “Really?!”

Rosemary: “Yes, really! Course, I had to work my butt off to still qualify for the position against several other people, but my semblance pretty much gave me an edge over all of the others.”

Zwei had let out a rather loud cough that sounded like he was saying “nepotism,” though he began coughing for real when Rosemary elbowed him in the gut. Neither of the twins chose to comment on the aforementioned moment.

Summer: “In that case, could we see your semblance Rosie?”

Rowan: “That is, if you don’t mind taking the time to show us that is.”

Summer was practically beaming in excitement at seeing a new semblance that she had never seen before. Rowan tried to keep his excitement in check by being polite, though even he couldn’t mask the enthusiasm that leaked into his tone at the thought of Rosemary giving a showing of her semblance.

Rosemary went quite as she put her hand to her chin as if to suggest that she was contemplating the twins request. Zwei scoffed at the display, though he couldn’t help but internally smile at the twins' curiosity and excitement. The yearning of wanting to learn and see new things made him think of both Ruby and Jaune, and he was slowly starting to see bits of both parents in their kids as he observed and interacted with them.

Rosemary: “Mmmmh, well… I guess I can take the time to show off a little bit. I’d be more than happy to show you two my semblance...”

The twins both beamed with excitement, before it quickly dimmed as Rosemary quickly tacked on:

Rosemary: “...After I finish the rest of my tasks around the garden. It won’t take me long, all I have to do is finish laying down some mulch and stow away my tools and gear and I’d be more than happy to show off to your heart's content.”

Rosemary couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the twins both pouting in disappointment at having to wait to see her semblance. Zwei simply rolled his eyes at their obvious disappointment, before he decided to speak up once again.

Zwei: “Ah quit your bellyaching you two. It won’t take her long to finish up, and there’s plenty we can do to kill some time. How about I show you two around the gardens some more, then we come back here to bug Rosie some more, alright?”

The twins both muttered out words of agreement, before they both started to make their way deeper into the gardens. Zwei let them get ahead of them for a moment, before he turned to regard Rosemary with a smirk.

Zwei: “So, when did you have the girl made?”

Rosemary in turn, gave Zwei a shit eating grin back as she made to respond.

Rosemary: “As I was holding her, and she kept looking back and forth between the two of us as if she had just had an epiphany. You?”

Zwei: “She kept looking back at me with a ‘knowing,’ look when you were giving your impromptu lecture. I think she thought I was looking at you as if I was enraptured or some other sappy shit like that. Sorry about suggesting you were a kiss ass by the way, I didn’t mean any of it.”

Rosemary barked out a laugh as she waved off Zwei’s apology, showing that she wasn’t offended in the slightest.

Rosemary: “Nah, I knew you were only saying that to set the girl up. Besides, I’d know you’d never willingly talk smack to me like, especially about your Step-Mom. I couldn’t even imagine what your dad would have done to you if that were the case, and Brother’s above what your sisters would have done to you if they heard you talking about Thumb and I that way.”

Zwei physically flinched at the thought, before mentally locking that nightmare scenario away with all of his other repressed memories. 

Zwei: “Yeah, best not to think about the results from that hypothetical situation. Still, it was fun to mess around with her like that. Those two may be from another dimension, but they’re definitely Jaune’s and Ruby’s kids, and just as fun to mess around with.”

Rosemary: “Mmm, be that as it may, do remember that your sister and brother in law got you just as often as you did them, and I doubt their children are no different. So try not to mess around with them too much Zwei, lest you find yourself being played at your own game.”

Zwei went to argue against her warning, only to pause as he truly thought it over. After a moment of contemplation, swore under his breath as he realized that Rosemary was right.

Zwei: “...They’re probably going to get me back at some point for all of this, aren’t they?”

Rosemary only smiled at Zwei’s Rhetorical question, before giving him a quick pat on the cheek as she walked the other way, grabbing her water can along the way.

Rosemary: “Give me about thirty minutes or so, and I’ll be available for the rest of the day. In the meantime, you should probably catch up with your strays before they end up causing chaos like they’re probably prone to do.”

Zwei stared at the retreating form of Rosemary’s back, before letting out a sigh as he began  walking in the direction that the twins wandered off to, grumbling to himself the whole time.

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader {Greek Mythology AU}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Being celebrated as the town's best blacksmith and master-craftsman, you had many opportunities to provide exquisite items for the royal household. You lived within the boundaries of King Enji Todoroki's castle, and you knew the inhabitants quite well. Their splendid, sharp and practical weapons were fashioned in your very forge, and seeing the guards carrying them down the labyrinthine hallways of the castle filled you with a sense of pride. The furniture, often wooden and antique, with exotic designs that no other craftsman in the realm could ever replicate, received compliments not only from the king's subjects, but the foreign ambassadors, who proceeded to inform their employers of the magnificent works. You had big dreams and a means to achieve them.

You wandered the corridors of the castle, glancing at the hand-brewed lanterns littering the walls, illuminating the red and brown bricks. Their flames flickered like the tongues of dragons - a reliable source had once told you that the king himself reared these beautiful, dangerous beasts, although you had never seen them personally. The claim went invalidated, but your songbird was a lovely girl, very gentle and trustworthy. She possessed a meagre level of magic, which impressed you to no end. She slurred potions around and carried leaves of fern and belladonna wherever she travelled. Her companions were extraordinary, as well, and you often saw them as they graced the grasses of your small town. There was a boy with stunning verdant hair and a penchant for crying, plus a knight from the land controlled by King Toshinori Yagi. He had always been lax with the laws, and there was barely ever any crime, so the castle wouldn't suffer from having one less guard.

A pleasant humming sound drifted from your lips, echoing along the walls, making it seem as though someone was tailing you. Your (e/c) eyes fluttered shut as you allowed the crackling of the small flames to guide you safely on the path. Through the flesh of your eyelids, you could see the faint glow of fire beginning to dwindle. Ceasing any movement, you cracked open both eyes and resolved to find the problem. These lanterns had been imbued with the Eternal Flame, so it was (supposedly) unheard of for them to die out. It wasn't just one, either - as your gaze lingered on the husks of your lanterns, you noticed their light slowly diminishing, until all that remained was darkness.

You shivered, the lack of warmth enabling a frigid breeze to waft over you, like a bad dream.

"Whoa, who burned out all the lanterns?" A voice called, cheery amidst the dire circumstances.

That wasn't the only issue, however. This was a strange sound, a foreign one, and you knew all the sounds of this castle. You could pick people and objects apart by noise alone, and yet this was a trial your ears could not overcome. Another thing - you hadn't even realised there was someone else in the corridor with you. The earlier humming was a sound you only made when absolutely comfortable, usually while tinkering in your little shop. You were at home around the lanterns you had manufactured yourself. Yet, they died out. Every. Last. One. You didn't design things to fail. That was the first rule of the trade, and until now, you had sworn by it.

You decided to try this stranger. "I'm not quite sure. They weren't supposed to do that, and no-one else was here."

"Well then," His bones made a clicking sound, as if he was stretching. "It must have been you, or me, but I guess we'll never know."

The arrogance lacing his tone did tick you off slightly, but you had to sigh at his words. "Impossible." You muttered, almost condescendingly.

"I was specifically entrusted to fashion lanterns that would never die."

Your last sentence was likely whispered, but it still reached your accomplice's ears. Probably because he had elected to stand right behind you, which startled you out of your skin when he started talking again. Apparently, he was the king's jester or some other such nonsense. He must have been - no other sane person would dare disrespect the greatest figures of modern times (you thought quite highly of yourself, if that's not already evident).

Whistling, he asked, "Wooow, you made these? No wonder they burned out so fast. What did you make them out of? Wood and wax?"

You huffed indignantly, trying not to rise to his taunts. "It's impossible that they all went out. One or two, perhaps I could find fault in, but all of them? What magic is this?"

"The black kind?" The stranger offered, unhelpfully. "Don't get me wrong, they looked nice - so do you, by the way - but maybe you're not as great as you think, princess."

You searched for him in the dark, but that turned up nothing. "Please don't call me that. My name is (Y/n) (L/n). I'm the town's main blacksmith and craftsman - I know what I'm doing, and if I say this isn't normal, I would like to be believed. What is your name, anyway? I don't feel like calling you 'stranger' forever."

There was a pause and a near-incoherent sound, the he spoke. "I go by Hawks, beautiful, and you didn't call me 'stranger', unless you were thinking about me? Aww, I wonder why I haven't seen you before?"

You sighed. "Honestly, I'm not sure you can see me now."

"Haha, you're right! Well, gotta find some light, I suppose. Which way to safety...?" You heard his light footfalls, followed by a muffled cry.

"That would be the wall." You muttered, astounded by the apparent stupidity of this man.

He said nothing, but continued onwards. After a few moments, a warm hand moved to cradle yours, and he pulled you alongside him. You wanted to protest, but decided against it. You would get nowhere with trivial arguments. The corridor twisted and turned, and you suddenly remembered that one section leading off from it was restricted, but you wouldn't be able to see it in complete darkness. This did worry you slightly, but instead of vocalising your discomfort, you just squeezed Hawks' hand tighter. With him as delegated leader, he bumped into a few more walls on the way out. It seemed that, like you, he hadn't been expecting the lanterns to burn out as easily as they did. When you appeared to have reached a crossroads, he stopped. It was so abrupt that you actually slammed into his back. Trickles of hair brushed against your forehead, and you realised that you were probably just a fraction taller than him. At least this gave you one advantage. He could have his jokes and flirtatious words, but you had your trade and your height.

"Ahh..." He chuckled, a tone of uncertainty present in his voice.

"What's going on? Why did you stop?" You questioned, getting kind of annoyed with this guy.

He glanced around, but saw nothing, obviously. "I might have gone the wrong way?"

"You what?!" You yelled. "We have no light source, and now no sense of direction? Oh, more black magic..."

"It'll probably be fine." He responded, once more sounding as though he commanded some divine wisdom.

His one free hand traced the wall, and just as you were pondering whether to give him two free hands, a noise of acknowledgement erupted from his throat. You supposed that meant he knew where you were, but could he really tell from touch alone? It was likely a ploy, although it did something to calm your throbbing heart. He re-established his pace, dragging you in tow. He made a degree of small talk along the way, but it was drowned out by all the thoughts swimming in your head. His palm was dangerously hot, like an oven, yet you were finding it impossible to let go. It was the kind of heat source your body craved, although you weren't entirely sure why.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting screech began to resonate like a gong, and before you had chance to ask what the hell was happening, you were tugged through the wooden frame of a door. It closed as soon as you stepped into the bright, blinding light. After all that darkness, this seemed like Hell. At least for the first few minutes. Once your eyes managed to adjust, you peered through heavy eyelids, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man calling himself 'Hawks'.

He was absolutely gorgeous.

Those tussles of hair that had previously ghosted your forehead turned out to be feathery and ash-blonde in colour. A small amount of stubble hung from his chin, and as he yawned, you saw perfect, snowy-white teeth. When he noticed the starstruck expression on your face, he grinned, the corners of his lips moving upwards. You blushed - even his cocky smile was breath-taking. He had the most awe-inspiring, chocolate-brown eyes, that twinkled in the glinting candlelight. His fluffy eyebrows made your heart weep, and the formation of those black triangles below his tear ducts reminded you of a bird. His peasant clothes were nothing to write home about, but the way he wore them certainly was. He somehow made them look more appealing and seductive than they should have been, yet you couldn't put a finger on the reason. An onyx, stud-shaped earring adorned both ears. He must have been a similar age to you - around 22 - and you wondered if he would consent to court someone so soon after meeting them. Despite his frankly irritating nature, he made your heart sing, and you instantly knew that you needed to be with him.

"Too hot for you, princess?" He smirked, arrogantly.

You flushed. "S-Sort of."

Adding moisture to his lips, he retorted, "Well, you're pretty sexy yourself, Miss."

After this comment, you immediately retracted your gaze, opting to look around the room instead. "W-Where are we, anyway?" You asked, a little confused.

"My bedchambers." He replied, laughing at your face, which was now stained red.

"W-Why am I here??"

He shrugged. "You followed me, dollface."

"You dragged me!"

--

In a district far removed from the prying eyes of royal sentries, a hoard of villainous men and women alike resided. Their sanctuary had been built in haste, as their ancestors needed a safeguard, away from anyone who might wish to hurt them. Those people, namely the kings Enji Todoroki and Toshinori Yagi, were fierce yet kind rulers, protecting their realms while simultaneously warding away the evil that lurked around the bend. Although their relationship was strained, the kings banded together for the greater good, and finally succeeded in expelling the tyrants. However, nothing was ever so simple - spies had been recruited and placed around the perimeter of the realms. They often caught wind of conspiracies, and would venture into the twisting labyrinth of a wasteland where they were never supposed to find. The mice frequently managed safe journeys, but the grand dictator, All For One, had abilities that far exceeded those of any normal human; he could hear their footsteps, smell their shallow breaths, feel those tell-tale vibrations in the air. There was never any privacy in his castle, and certainly no safety.

If he sought after your head, he would receive it. However, unlike what the rumours suggested, he never abused this power, instead deciding to reserve it for the serious threats. There was no point waging war against the kings without sufficient battle tactics, and All For One remained wounded from his encounter with the stronger of the two: King Toshinori Yagi.

"What shall we do with him, master?" A raspy voice called out, partially muffled by the detachable hand covering his face.

The large, shadowy figure he addressed reclined in his throne, looking upwards and intertwining his fingers, as if contemplating the question. This was all pretence - he had already begun putting the plan in motion, after all. To ease his pupil's mind, he replied, "Bring him in. Question him. Torture him if you have to. If he has valuable information, let him live. If he refuses to speak in three days' time, execute him."

"As you wish."

Messy blue hair whipped in all directions as he signalled for a few of the people in the room. They followed his lead, heading out of the double doors and down the nearest hallway. With him, there walked a tall, lean individual with an ebony mane and oddly-symmetrical burn marks, the skin purple and wrinkling. It was held together crudely by metal hoop piercings. Beside him, a smartly-dressed man with wisps of purple and black mist in place of a body, and a young, blonde girl with a Cheshire-Cat grin. These were apparently the people for the job. In this world of tricks and magic, these four were the ringmasters, controlling the rest of the troupe with strings of steel.

"Who do we get to kill this time??" The girl asked, almost drooling in anticipation of the hunt.

"You heard what master said." Came the agitated response. "We capture him and try to get what we need. If he manages to stay sane for three days, then you can have your fun."

The patchwork zombie spoke next. "How are we doing this, then? We can't storm Enji Todoroki's castle."

As his words echoed around the walls, a swirling vortex appeared, growing bigger and bigger until it could allow for all four to plunge into the blackness. Two, however, were commanded to hold back - the girl and the man with purple patches of flesh. The warp gate closed as soon as the others stepped through.

The hunters were on the prowl.

--

"Ah...don't be shy. Admit it - you wanted to spend the night with me." Hawks gifted you a wink, both flirtatious and amused.

He must have been savouring your embarrassment. "I can't admit what isn't true." You glanced towards one of the massive, stained-glass windows lining the nearby wall. Although it was difficult to see, you determined that it was indeed night-time. How had you spent so long in the castle? You could have sworn it was early afternoon when you arrived, and you shouldn't have been there for more than a few hours. Your detour with this cocksure fairy didn't feel as though it had taken any more than half an hour. Perhaps that was just because your brain was preoccupied, enjoying the company it was in. "I should leave now. It's late, and my shop needs guarding."

"Haven't you fashioned some defence system? Surely (Y/n) (L/n), the oh-so-talented master-craftsman would be prepared for everything?" He taunted, clearly trying to back you into a corner.

"I'm afraid I can entertain you no longer, jester. I need to leave. Something strange is happening - can't you sense it? Those lanterns were my inventions, and I need to figure out why they died." Turning on your heel, you began to walk away from the blonde-locked man and his mahogany door.

However, his laugh stopped you in your tracks. "I guess I do act like a jester, don't I?"

Mysteriously, like smoke, his voice soon trailed off. You couldn't even begin to comprehend how such a flashy, boisterous person would all of a sudden go completely quiet. It wasn't just that - you couldn't hear anything but the ear-splitting silence, like static running through your veins. The walls weren't moaning, the floor wasn't creaking, and nobody seemed to be breathing. There were no sounds. None at all. It was as if Hawks, along with the very castle, knew something you didn't, but their lips were sewn shut. You wondered if the walls would collapse around you, burying you alive, or maybe the ghosts of Enji Todoroki's victims would seek revenge, but instead attach themselves to and haunt you until the end of your days.

"What-" You tried to break the ice that had settled like stalactites on the ceiling, but felt as though a veil was slowly being wrapped around your neck, preventing any more words from reaching the surface.

Suddenly, hands as warm as a furnace grasped your ice-cold ones and dragged you through the door. When you looked at him, you saw that his face held a serious expression. He definitely knew something - something bad. You wanted to ask, but couldn't quite find the words to do so. Stepping through the door felt weird, as if your feet weren't touching wood, but rather something less material. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, opting to trust the man you had only recently met. After a few seconds, he tumbled on to a hard surface and, still being hand-in-hand, your body crashed into his. His head slammed into the brick, eliciting a faint, pained noise. Truth be told, he was in a lot of pain, but he didn't want you to have any anxieties about the situation, so he refrained from screaming. That was so much worse than stubbing your toe.

"You were surprisingly easy to catch, despite your profession. I did not expect you to have an accomplice, however. She could prove to be troublesome." The voice resonated in your ears painfully, like white noise.

"She's not an accomplice. I met her about two minutes ago - she looked lost, so I was just pointing her in the right direction." Hawks drew out the lie, allowing more time to think of an escape.

Whoever else was out there laughed. "We have orders, Hawks. You have been flying too close to the sun for a long time, and now it is your time to fall."

"So, what's the plan?" Hawks breathed, sparing a side-glance at your trembling figure. "Are you gonna put me in chains, lock me in the dungeons? You do have dungeons, right? I mean, this place is massive, and pretty much a castle."

"This place," The voice began. "Is a labyrinth."

You tugged at Hawks' sleeve. "What are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed??" You whisper-yelled, both furious with and concerned for the man.

"Out of tricks? That's such a shame. To answer your question: we will lock you in one of the many chambers within this labyrinth. There are so many corridors, that even if you were to escape from your cell, you would never reach the surface."

The air swirled in front of you, a mixture of black and purple. Two legs protruded from within, followed closely by a slim body, clad in a suit. Behind this imposing figure, another man stepped out of the darkness. He was dressed far lighter than the former, in only an onyx shirt, baggy trousers and slip-on shoes. You didn't recognise either of these men, given that you mostly stayed in your small town, never straying further than the treeline of the surrounding forest. Despite this, it was easy to reckon that they were the rumoured tyrants. At least, two of them. That thought made your hair stand on end, as though it had been exposed to a great deal of static electricity - what if there were more, hiding in the black void, ready to pounce at any moment? As if sensing your fear, one of the men (the one who seemed as if he might tend to a bar in his off-time), turned to address you.

"Miss, if you comply, then nothing shall be done to cause you harm." His tone was polite, but by that time, you had already chosen your side. You would remain with the person who had stolen your heart in a matter of minutes, with his witty, mischievous nature, and how he laughed in the face of danger, just to keep you safe.

So, although it might have been reason enough for your head to roll, you showed a level of defiance that they weren't expecting. The other man, whose voice was a lot more sickening, muttered something you couldn't hear, scratching his neck as he did so. His partner in crime seemed to sigh (though, with him having no discernible mouth, it was hard to tell), but elected against opposing his superior. The orders had already been given, after all, and any accomplice of the target must suffer the same, horrendous fate as him. You never knew what such seemingly innocent people could be hiding. Before he was grabbed, Hawks made an attempt to snare one of the stray knifes littered on the ground. His enemies noticed the plot, however, and ensured it wasn't followed through. A set of calloused hands gripped your neck and waist, hoisting you up on to your feet. You lashed out, but the hand around your neck clamped down harder, making you choke. You were gradually running out of oxygen. Soon, you couldn't handle the strain of fighting, and your body went limp, slumping against the blue-haired man. It was uncomfortable, but your vision was dimming, just like your lanterns back in the castle of Enji Todoroki. Just before you blacked out, you made the connection - they had been responsible for your burnt-out lights.

--

A spellbinding sight awaited your tired eyes - the walls were covered in ancient carvings, spiral-designs and other such patterns. You, alongside your companion, were confined in a large room, with no obvious doors or windows. You attempted to move, and although you had no bindings, your muscles were stiff. Almost immediately, your mind went into overdrive, trying to work out a viable escape plan. You could always create something to break through the wall, but you weren't sure how deep the labyrinth ran, and it seemed appropriate to assume that you would be easily captured. Raising a hand to your mouth, you began muttering to yourself, slowly piecing together a picture of what you were going to do. You needed to be extremely careful, as there were two lives on the line. If you were discovered mid-escape, it was likely that you would be executed, since you doubted Hawks had the skills required to take flight.

"...Flight! That's it!" You silently praised your ingenuity, glancing around to see if there was anything that could be of use. "Alright...I need the framework, and then something to hold them together. The shape needs to be perfect, for the air to pass over..."

Whilst in the midst of your mutterings, Hawks awoke and contemplated his situation. Then, he noticed you had been shoved into the same cell as him. An unfamiliar feeling welled up inside his chest, tugging at his heartstrings. It was a concoction of guilt, dread, love and sadness. You appeared to be working on something, kneeling in the dirt and presiding over your art. He stood with much effort, and he thought for a moment that his legs might have been broken. He managed to hobble over to where you were stationed, giving him a better view of whatever you were trying so desperately to complete. Your hands were moving rapidly, not letting him concentrate for very long. One minute, they just looked like smashed pieces of wood, but the next, they had a proper form.

"They'd be great if we could actually get out. Did you think about that, princess?" He had been in the labyrinth before, and knew just how tricky it was to navigate - it was meant to gradually drain your sanity, and make you compliant. If that didn't work, there was always good old-fashioned torture.

You responded after a few beats of silence. "You can do something about that, then. We'll need quite a large hole, or else these things won't get through."

Hawks smirked. "You're trying to get out? Bold of you to assume you can."

"Bold of you to suggest I can't." You countered, adding the finishing touches to your work. "Okay, now listen carefully - I managed to sculpt these out of scraps of wood, and I melted the wax from those candles." You pointed to them. "They will hold long enough to get us back to the realm of Enji Todoroki, but you cannot, under any circumstance, get caught in the heat of the sun. If you do, not only will you have wasted one of my creations, but you will plummet to your death. do you understand?"

There was a mischievous glint in his chocolate orbs. "You'd make a good gypsy, y'know."

You masked your smile behind irritation. "Do you understand?"

"Oh, completely. I just have to stay away from the sun, right?" He nodded.

"Correct." You released a breath you didn't know you had been holding; this man was going to be the death of you. A speck of silver flashed in your peripheral vision, and you directed your gaze accordingly. "Why would someone leave a hammer...?" You mumbled, confused.

Hawks hummed, then looked towards the object. "Well, seems like you've found our way out."

Stepping forwards without hesitation, he picked it up and did an initial, experimental swing. It collided with the wall of the labyrinth, severing the carvings and creating a small dent. His lips twitched upwards, and he held the hammer more firmly in his hands. He swung it again and again, shattering the wall almost entirely. To your surprise, it gave way to blinding sunlight and lush green land. Your mouth fell agape - both of you had been anticipating another layer of the winding entanglement. Nodding once to yourself, you handed a pair of wooden wings over to your accomplice, reminding him of your prior warning. Clasping your own tightly on to your person, you stood on the edge, looking down. You heard an awkward gulp from beside you - Hawks must have been nervous. Just before you were about to soar to freedom, a portal, black and purple, fissured a section of previously untouched wall. Two figures began marching into the frame.

You didn't give Hawks any time to think. With a hand on the wings, you propelled him forwards. You jumped out of the labyrinth after a few seconds, tailing closely behind Hawks, who was flapping his newly-acquired wings rather awkwardly. Although you detested the idea, you spared a brief glance back to your prison, seeing those two men standing among the ashes of the wall. Their faces displayed not anger, as you expected, but glee. Disturbed, you averted your eyes. They would not silence you. The people of your town would indeed hear your voice again, purchase your goods and request specific items. You would not be trapped.

Never again.

"Hawks, are you doing okay? Remember you need to move them yourself - just like a bird." You called, swooping past the blonde-haired man. An ecstasy-streaked expression had appeared on his face. You had to smile at this.

"This feels amazing! Damn, you really are good at making things. When we get back, could you jazz these up a bit for me?" He glided in the air, riding the wind, the breeze fluffing up his hair.

Below, a vast expanse of sea stretched out, going for miles and miles. You wanted to fly down, gently touching the surface with your feet, and making it look as though you were walking on water. Your eyelids flickered shut as you relished in Gaia's soft breaths. The clouds slowly ghosted past you. By the time you opened your eyes, it was far too late. Savouring the sweet taste of fresh air, like a starved child, Hawks had been consumed by a false sense of security. He neglected to recall your warning. The bright rays of the sun beamed down on his figure, washing an unpleasant heat over him. The wax which held his wooden wings together began to drip, raining down on the surface of the ocean like snowflakes. Soon, fractures started to show in the wood. You wanted to scream at him for being so idiotic. Instead, you dove towards the falling form. You missed by a millisecond. Speed was quickly becoming an issue, but you continued descending, reaching out a hand in the hopes that he would grab it. His arms and legs were flailing, and he couldn't seem to stay still for long enough. The water was luring him closer and closer.

In one last ditch effort, you howled out his name. "Hawks!"

His body met the blue liquid, and he was dragged down further, as if compelled by a magnet.

You caressed the water, watching and waiting for any sign of him. Tears were clouding your vision, cascading down your cheeks and eventually dripping down, into the sea. You didn't know if they would ever reach him, but you whispered a few words, distorted by sobs.

"...I warned you..."

[Word Count: 4779]

[doubledeaky]

im back to sending you a million requests because those last two were SO FUCKING GOOD (from @deakyfordays) ok so can i get a gwil fic where hes like 'oh u can draw, let me see ur stuff' and basically u draw some like ~nude~ things that are classy but also gets him horny af and hes like oh shit let's fuck???

sorry this took me like a week, but ok I’m an artist and this made me super happy, thank you for supplying me with that good stuff @deakyfordays

okay so you and Gwil are supposed to be hanging out at your apartment, a Friday night tradition between you two, but Gwil knocked out half way through the movie you were both watching and instead of waking him up from a nap you knew he needed you decided to retire to the comfy chair by the window and work on a few of your incomplete sketches

Gwil was aware of your knack for art but wasn’t exactly informed to the extent at which you drew. Most of your pieces were anatomy studies and the occasional full blown piece, a nude model/figure at its center. The human body happened to be your muse and there was no shame in that. Gwil had never seen your art, and you had no intentions of showing him said art. 

You were idly working on a self portrait, a very nude self portrait, when Gwil began to stir and grumble from your couch. You grinned, but continued to drag your red drafting pencil across the sketchbook in your hands. You were so entranced in the motion of your hand that you didn’t notice Gwil get up and settle himself behind you until he spoke. 

“That’s really good.” He mumbled, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. 

“Shit!” You squealed, your entire body jumping a few inches from the comfy day chair. You instinctively shut your sketchbook and tossed it to the side, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Gwil raised a questioning brow and reached for your sketchbook.

“Can I see?” He said, reaching his long arm over you to grab at it but was stopped when you snatched it out of his grasp. 

“Um, no.” You mumbled, his face fell and guilt wretched in your gut. “Sorry, I don’t really show people my stuff.” He seemed dumbfounded and his light laugh surprised you. 

“C’mon, Y/N. I wanna see. I promise I’ll be nice.” He pleaded, widening his bright blue eyes to seal the deal. You playfully rolled your eyes, the grip on your sketchbook tightening before you relaxed your muscles. 

“Fine, but I get to flip the pages.” You warned, pointing a stern finger in his direction. He held his hands up in defeat before joining you on the couch, planting himself just centimeters away from your side. Your breath hitched momentarily before you cleared your throat and hesitantly opened the leather-bound book. 

“This is an anatomy study I did a few months ago.” You explained, tracing your finger over the sloped lines of the drawn figure. His eyes were concentrated, scanning precisely over each line and area of shading. They also held another emotion, seemingly one of admiration and it made your heart flutter. 

You turned the page, the drawing a portrait of your good friend. His eyes widened, “Wow, this one is incredible.” He mumbled, thumbing the end of the page to draw it closer, careful not to bend or tear the image. Your grin widened and the pace of your already frantic heart quickened. 

“Thank you.” You smiled, absentmindedly flipping the page to an image you weren’t intending to show him, the nude portrait of yourself that you had been working on just minutes before. 

“Oh, shit.” You mumbled, flipping over a few pages and hoping he hadn’t noticed. But, he did.

“Woah, woah, wait. What was that one?” He asked, trying to flip back to the drawing. He looked at you with raised brows and your face somehow grew exponentially warmer. 

“It was nothing. It was the one I was working on earlier. “ You explained, trying to keep your voice calm and level. He smirked, gripping the end of the sketchbook in his hand. Your throat grew dry and you struggled to swallow the growing lump there. 

“Can I see?” He crooned, obnoxiously batting his long lashes as he did. You pursed your lips and considered the idea for a moment. The drawing was essentially one of your nudes and you’d be showing this nude to your best friend. You concluded there would be no harm in it, as long as you didn’t tell him who the figure was. You reluctantly flipped back to the designated page and held it out to him. He took the book in his hands and studied the figure with squinted eyes. Your stomach churned and the pressure in your chest tightened as he continued to scan the drawing. 

“Who is this?” He suddenly said and you tensed, your heart stopping in your chest. The figure was unfinished and had no face yet, so only you truly knew who it was. You twiddled your thumbs and tried to not fumble over your next sentence.

“Um, no one in particular.” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes. 

“Oh, please. The detail is incredible. You’re telling me this is all from memory?” He questioned, arching his brow and sending a sly smirk your way. You shifted uncomfortably, picking at the sleeves of your sweater and still not meeting his gaze.

“Um, yeah.”

“Y/N..” 

“Fine, fine. If you must know. It’s a self portrait.” 

“A…self portrait? This is you?” He seemed stunned, and his tone made it hard to determine if he surprised or disgusted.

“Yeah, it is. Is there a problem?” You asked, tone growing defensive and hands just seconds from snatching the sketchbook from his hands and vowing to never draw around the man again. 

“No, no. There’s no problem. It’s just…”

“What?” You were growing impossibly nervous, your gut clenching uncomfortably. 

“It’s really beautiful. I’m… almost speechless.” He laughed, his speech airy and hushed. Your eyes widened slightly and for a fleeting moment, you saw him shift slightly in his seat. 

“R-really?” You mentally chastised yourself for making a complete fool of yourself if front of the man you had a huge crush on. The man who was essentially studying a nude photo of yourself in front of you. 

“Yeah, I mean. Wow, it’s incredible. Beautiful and talented.” He mumbled, handing you the book and immediately placing a throw pillow in his lap when you grabbed it from him. You were stunned, did he just compliment you or the drawing? 

“Well, thank you. It means a lot.” You stuttered, giving him an appreciative grin. He nodded, watching your form intently as you put away your sketchbook and rejoined him on the couch. 

“Bet it’s even more beautiful in person.” He mumbled, probably intending for the words to go unheard but you caught them, every word. He noticed this, the way your body froze as you reached for the remote indicative of that. His heart dropped and he had to restrain himself from running through your window. 

“Sorry, that was..”

“Do you mean that?” 

His blue eyes widened, your reaction completely unexpected. You looked up at him expectantly and the way you eyed him sent he to his lower stomach. A sudden confidence bloomed in his chest and he shifted to face you fully.

“Every word.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup your heated face. Your breath hitched and despite yourself, you leaned into his touch. 

“You are art.” He was so close, you felt the words fan over your lips and your eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. He softly pressed his lips to your and a relived sigh escaped your nostrils. You immediately melted into his touch, bringing your hands up to card through his soft brown hair. He whimpered against your lips, his own hands now gripping your hips tightly. He pulled away, his breaths coming out in heavy pants. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. Wanted to see that beautiful body.” He breathed, pulling your body closer, nearly into his open lap. 

“Nothing’s stopping you.” You breathed out, taking it upon yourself to climb into his lap and lace your arms behind his head. He gives you a somewhat shy but appreciative grin, and reattaches his lips to yours. He tastes exactly how you’d imagined he would. Sweet, minty from that gum he always chews, and a flavor that’s unidentifiable but him nevertheless. 

His hands are leaving a fire in their wake. Everywhere he touches set ablaze and you whimper into the heated kiss. His fingers dip below the hem of your sweater and you wordlessly pull it over your head. Gwil’s blue eyes darken and his hand immediately begin working the clasp of your bra, eyes never leaving yours. 

You let him take it off, you’d let him do anything at this point. He eyes you hungrily, bringing his lips to mouth at your chest softly, the touch pulling soft whimpers and moans from your lips.

“Even better than the drawing.” He says, words muffled against your skin and you laugh lightly. His lips then surround your left nipple, nipping at it gently and you have to bite down on your lip to cage desperate moans. The pressure in your lower tummy is unbearable now and your body involuntarily brushes against his clothes lap. His actions falters and he lets out a heavy, pained sigh. 

“Fuck, do that again.” He commands before continuing his assault on the delicate skin of your chest and breasts. You anchor your hands on his shoulders for leverage and begin to softly grind your hips against his lap, his cock hardening underneath you. Your head falls into his shoulder, the friction he’s providing satisfying the ache you’ve suffered with since the day you’d met him. He can hear your soft whimpers and moans right next to his ear and he shifts his hips uncomfortably with each sound, his jeans now unbearably tight. He sits back for a second and removes his shirt, and you gaze at him appreciatively for a moment before he brings his lips to yours. 

“Can I take these off, love?” He breathes, his prying fingers referring to your shorts. You nod wordlessly, and lift your hips to make the job easier for him. He removes both your shorts and underwear in one motion and you nearly faint when your pussy makes direct contact with his Jean clad lap. His hand settles on your hips and he gestured for you to continue your motions, his grip guiding you against him. You breathing is heavy, coming out in pants, whimpers, and the occasional moan of his name. He’s loving every moment, watching your shaking form behind hooded eyes. The way you draw your lip between your teeth occasionally, how your eyes close every time he presses your body harder against him. 

“Fuck, Gwil.” You whine, feeling the tightness in your belly grow. You stop suddenly and bring your hand to his zipper, desperately fumbling with it. He laughs and removes his jeans without issue, giving you a soft peck before drawing you closer, breasts flush against his strong chest. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He whispers, brushing fallen hair from your face. You smile, bringing your lips to his in a searing kiss. You toy with the waistband of his boxers, silently begging him to remove them. He complies, sliding them off of his long lower half slowly. Now, nothing seperates you and him and it’s almost overwhelming. 

“Do you have a condom?” You whimper, his lips working at the skin on your neck. He nods, leaning over to fish one out of his wallet and immediately returning to you. You grab it from him, quickly removing it and sliding it over his length. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” He teases and you narrow your eyes, playfully sticking your tongue out as you settle above him. He grips the base of his cock and run the head through your folds, both of you breathing out heavy moans at the sensation. He catches your gaze and you smile lazily, pressing your lips to his as he slips in. You moan against his mouth as he buries himself to the hilt within you, groaning loudly as he bottoms out. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He groans, his head lolling back onto the arm of the couch. You're too overwhelmed to speak, only lucid enough to grip his strong shoulders and moan. 

“Can I move, love?” He asks after a moment and you nod, eyes still shut tight.

He thrusts up into you and you fall limp into his chest as he settles on a steady pace, the head of his cock brushing against that certain spot and bringing you close to your edge faster than you had anticipated.

“Feels so good, Gwil.” You gasp, clinging onto him, his own hands gripping your hips and ass tightly. 

“You feel so amazing, sweetheart. So tight for me.” He groans, his thrusts picking up speed. You cry out, burying your head into his neck, the stubble scratching your cheek. 

“Im close, Gwil.” You whimper, walls clenching around him almost involuntarily. His grip on your hips tightens.

“Yeah, gonna cum? Cum for me, angel.” He growls, thrusting up into you with an almost brutal strength. Your orgasm suddenly rips through you, the sensation sending shockwaves throughout your entire body. Your walls clench around him violently and the way his thrusts falter indicate he’s right behind.

Fuck, sweetheart. Gonna make me cum.” He groans before stilling inside of your and releasing into the condom with a broken moan. Your mouth falls open but no sound escapes, and your body falls limply into his strong chest, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rocking you. Gwil holds you, his hands running softly up and down your back, his lips pressing soft kisses onto your temple. 

“Did so well for me, sweetheart.” He praises, smoothing down your hair, pressing kisses to your sweaty forehead. Your eyes are hooded and lazy but you manage to give him a sweet smile. 

“There’s my girl.” He coos, giving you a smilier smile. He then gingerly lifts your hips and pulls out, quickly tying off and discarding the condom after. He returns to you, pulling you against his chest, his hands resting comfortably against the small of your back. 

“My girl.” He whispers into your hair. You hear him, but it's distant, sleep washing over you quickly. He watches as you drift off peacefully, smiling widely because he knows he’s got the most beautiful work of art in the known world. 

this isn't great and it didn't really proofread it, but Im happy I finished it. now back to homework -macy:) 

[artificialqueens]

Withstanding The Test Of Time Ch6 - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - Yes it has been a long time and yes, I’m still writing all my fics! Hang in there, any old fans, I haven’t given up on you.

Last time: Sharon and Alaska had a fight on the way home from the party, and Sharon was given an opportunity to express her views.

This time: Wait and see…

When a society is on the precipice, moments away from falling off the edge, it is nearly impossible to tell. Any act of defiance - any protest, any argument, any kind of resistance against the social norms - any of them could be the proverbial straw on the camel’s back, the tipping point that throws everything into chaos. Sometimes it can be a call for change, a new leader, a shift in the ways of thinking. 

Sometimes, it can be something as innocuous as an article, written by a newly-promoted journalist, desperate to use her degree and have her voice heard all at once. Sometimes, it can be as little as one woman’s fury to send the media into a frenzy.

That’s right. I didn’t want to get married. In fact, I was pretty much dragged to the registry office kicking and screaming, for all I didn’t want to be there. My childhood plan, to run away with my best friend and live as a fugitive for as long as possible, never came into fruition. I kept tape over the accusing numbers on my arm, and when the name appeared and I had to face facts, I did so with my own mortality at the very back of my mind. When a car wasn’t enough to finish me off, I knew a marriage to someone I didn’t even know definitely would be.

Alaska had gone to work before Sharon left the house, as usual. She had a habit of eating a disgustingly healthy breakfast and then going for a run before changing at the office, so the two had very little interaction within their shared home. It was better that way, Sharon mused. To live like distant flatmates, rather than actual married women. 

It had been a very slow morning after the whirlwind of Alaska disappeared through the front door. Sharon dragged herself up for a sleepy shower, did her best to make her face presentable if nothing else, and had left for work after possibly the slowest bowl of cereal she’d ever eaten.

Even the lingering grey clouds above her were dull. The world seemed to move in slow-motion, everything listless and unimportant. Despite the dreary weather, it was a little too warm for the long sleeves Sharon had opted for, but she shrugged her shoulders and tried to pretend that she wasn’t overheating on the way to the office. It was always freezing in there anyway, and she much preferred to sit and be too warm than to advertise the name of her wife to the world around her.

Just as she got to the lift, praying for a somewhat quiet morning, a familiar face appeared. Sharon reminded herself at the very least that it wasn’t one of the bitches, so she couldn’t be rude.

“Morning, superstar!” Sasha greeted, her mane of hair fluffed and curled messily around her shoulders. Her eyes were glittering with excitement, and she seemed to bounce as though she couldn’t keep all her energy in. 

“Uh, morning, Sash.” Sharon replied, still half-asleep. She was sure that at some point that morning, in an attempt to keep from falling back asleep, she had blinked too hard and smudged mascara everywhere. Hoping that wasn’t the case, she rubbed gingerly beneath her eyes and tried to muster a little more enthusiasm to match her friend’s, at the very least.

Sasha didn’t seem perturbed. “How are you feeling this morning, huh?”

“Tired?” Sharon suggested, growing confused. “I don’t get what the purpose of this interrogation is.”

All of a sudden, Sasha’s eyes grew wide and, if possible, even brighter. She seemed to be completely unsure of what to do with herself. Shrugging, Sharon walked a nearly-speechless Sasha to their desks. Her friend didn’t regain the ability to speak until she had thrown herself into her chair with a loud sigh.

“Have you… you haven’t been online this morning, have you?” Sasha’s tone was leading into something, but Sharon had no idea what it was. She shook her head. “Okay, um… Go on Twitter, I guess that’s probably the best place to go. I’m surprised your phone hasn’t blown up yet.”

Still baffled but choosing to trust Sasha’s judgement, Sharon pulled out her phone and tapped impatiently, waiting for it to respond to her touch. Before she could even reach for the Twitter app, however, she had accidentally tapped on one of the rapidfire notifications that were appearing at a seizure-inducing rate at the top of her screen. As it materialised and grew large on her screen, she did a double-take.

‘Stupid fucking liberal cunt, doesn’t know what the fuck she’s saying DO YOU @sharon_needles!! People like you who claim that soulmate love isn’t real should be EXECUTED! DISGUSTING!’

She blanched, not at all hurt by the bizarre statement but completely dumbfounded at its existence. As far as she was aware, Sharon didn’t know a @BillDewinski1956, let alone tweet anything that would catch his attention. At her expression, Sasha grabbed her phone and then gasped.

“Jesus! Some people are so charming, aren’t they… But I mean this! This is what you need to see.”

She handed the phone back on the list of trending news. The list was as she expected; something about the President’s latest fuck up, some viral tweet about girly movies, a singer making an apology for something dumb. But the banner at the very top was what caught her eye - a photograph of herself.

Media  .  16 hours ago

Controversial ‘timers’ article divides the internet with an unheard perspective on the law

97k people are tweeting about this

As soon as the words registered in her mind, Sharon’s stomach twisted into knots. She wasn’t sure if it was a pleasant sensation or not; all she knew was that her heart was hammering in her chest, her mind was racing, and she didn’t have a single idea what she was supposed to think.

Did this mean she was successful? Did this mean she was going to get fired? As disgusting as some of the replies to the article were, people were definitely interested. At least half of the responses seemed somewhat supportive of her - Sharon scrolled through replies of people who said they had cried when realising they weren’t the only ones, or explained how they’d managed to get past it, or simply commented that she had opened their minds to something they hadn’t considered before.

For the first time in her life, Sharon’s anger was powerful. For the first time, she had the power to influence how people thought and how people felt, and it was a very strange power to possess.

“Well?” Sasha prompted, pulling Sharon out of her introspective silence.

“Well…” Sharon answered, not nearly as eloquent in person as she was in writing. “Shit. That’s all I have to say.”

Sasha was practically beaming, and despite all the confusion and conflicting emotions Sharon felt about the whole situation, her friend’s glowing pride made her feel incredibly uplifted. It was rare that Sharon ever felt so supported and cared for.

“I always knew you would take the world by storm once they let you.” She praised, Sharon waving her off so that she didn’t end up blushing unattractively. “The website is down this morning so there’s not much we can do until maintenance fix it. Too much traffic from everyone trying all at once to read your article. You really swept everyone off their feet.”

Sharon shook her head, unable to accept the compliments. Sure, she’d caused a stir, but controversy always did. It wasn’t like they were praising how it was written, or the language and composition of the piece… no, had it been the usual lovey-dovey drip of an article about timers, no one would bat an eyelid. It was controversy, not skill, that had brought her notoriety.

“Trinity isn’t in this morning, but Peppermint wants to see you.” Sasha finished gently, noticing the slight embarrassment she’d caused. “No doubt to assign you another task to blow out of the water.”

For the first time since entering her job as an underpaid intern, nobody yelled, clicked at, or insulted Sharon as she walked through the office. No one demanded a coffee, or sent a scathing look in her direction. In fact, not a single head turned in her direction at all - possibly the closest thing she could get to a success.

Peppermint, or Agnes, as Sharon supposed she should call her, was the more forgiving of her two bosses, and as she made her way towards her office she prayed that nothing bad was going to happen. After all, she knew they couldn’t fire her for how the article was written, as she had taken the time to ensure it all made sense, but that didn’t mean her audacity couldn’t be the reason she got fired. As much as was her own thoughts, the content was a little outrageous given how few companies were willing to give platforms to voices like hers.

Thankfully, she was greeted with a smile. “Ah! Morning, Sharon. Just thought we could have a chat about that little article of yours.”

Oh god. Here it came. The pointed smile, the cold eyes, the flat tone of voice as she was told that they had taken a gamble on promoting her and it was clearly the wrong decision to make, and that she would need to be fired completely to avoid the humiliation of a demotion and for the good of the company overall, and she would have to rescind her article along with a grovelling apology for daring to be so forthright with her opinions in a society that didn’t want to hear them-

Agnes leaned forwards. “I loved it.”

Sharon was so taken aback, she nearly fell right off her chair. “I- What?”

“Look, Sharon…” She admitted, her voice low. “I’m a trans woman, I know all about causing a stir. There’s bigoted people out there who say I don’t deserve everything I have, simply because I transitioned. So even if we disagree, I want you to do more of this. Share your voice. Angry women change the world, and I can see you have some fire in you.”

Never in her life had Sharon expected to be praised for her boldness. It was something that people in her life had always endeavoured to change about her; the conviction with which she held her beliefs was dangerous. But someone, for the first time in what felt like forever, was encouraging her. Someone, even if it was Agnes alone, believed that what Sharon had to say was valuable, and wasn’t trying to silence her voice.

It was a strange feeling.

She wandered back to her desk in a daze, baffled enough by the meeting and sudden influx of attention that she felt slightly light-headed. Ignoring the swathe of notifications still flooding her phone from all apps, she opened her Twitter once more and decidedly, absently, to briefly address it and then move on. After all, she had more controversy to cause.

Sharon Needles - @sharon_needles

Angry women change the world ..

“She wants more.”

Sasha blinked. “Huh?”

Sharon shook her head, trying to mentally pull herself together and wrench her mind away from the absolute chaos she had somehow managed to cause. She switched her phone off, overwhelmed by the constant notifications, and wheeled her chair around to properly look at Sasha with a little more clarity.

“Peppermint… Agnes… whatever… She wants more from me. She wants me to keep doing what I’m doing, and not issue an apology, and I’m not fired, I don’t have to clear my things…” Sharon muttered, mostly to herself. “She- She wants to keep me here?”

Practically squealing, Sasha kicked the desk and propelled herself backwards in her chair, spinning gleefully. Her enthusiasm was strangely contagious, and within a couple of seconds, Sharon felt the same unbridled happiness bubbling up inside her. It was utterly euphoric.

“I didn’t get fired!”

“You didn’t get fucking fired!” Sasha repeated, her eyes squeezed shut in excitement. She had shuffled her way over to Sharon, and begun spinning her chair so that the both of them were racing round in circles, giddy and giggling.

Sharon laughed at the absurdity of it all - spinning around in her desk chair at work, rapidly promoted, a sudden success in a short amount of time. It was as if her luck was finally beginning to balance out, the bad making way for the good to start shining through.

“Okay, I… I need to start my next one. Or plan it. Or do something, I don’t know.” She babbled, skidding to a halt back at her desk and fumbling with the keyboard. “There’s so much I could touch on… God. I finally get to use my degree, huh?”

Sasha winked at her, the pride emanating from her bright eyes. “Get writing, bitch. Go and knock ‘em dead now that they’re all listening. I know you can do it.”

Now that was something she’d never tire of hearing, something new to her ears and like music every single time. People - a select few, but a rapidly increasing amount - believed in her.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of writing, planning and numbing excitement. It was no secret that Sharon had a lot to say, and she had been trying for years to get people to listen to her. All the protests, the arrests, the candid photographs of a young teenager with a sign in her hands, desperate for some kind of change to protect her from the uncertain future that gave her nightmares… they had to be worth something. Sharon had a voice now, and she couldn’t throw it away.

Time seemed to escape her, each second sliced away by the rapid clicking of keys beneath her fingers. There was so much to be said, so much to do, and before long, Sasha’s hand was gently shaking Sharon’s shoulder, wrenching her from her writing-induced stupor. It was beginning to darken outside, and the majority of the office were leaving or had already left.

“Fuck,” Sharon hissed, stretching and wincing slightly at the cracking of her bones. “I’m gonna go blind if I look at that screen for any longer. Thanks, Sash.”

Sasha smiled kindly. “Anytime. You’re doing great, just make sure you don’t burn yourself out. Try to relax tonight, yeah? Just take it easy, chill a little. I’d invite you over for drinks to celebrate, but I can imagine you’re exhausted.”

Her mood lifted from such a productive, surprising day, Sharon found herself in higher spirits than she expected. “Aww, maybe I’ll come see you and Shea tomorrow. You’re right, though, I think I need a night in to just relax and be by myself. And maybe mute my Twitter, seeing how crazy it was earlier.”

Her friend laughed appreciatively. “I’ll get some red wine in for the weekend, you’re welcome to come over anytime. Now get out of here, freak. Go home.”

Absent-mindedly, Sharon wondered if her slightly later-than-usual exit from work meant that she could claim for a little bit of overtime, or if it would affect which bus she got home on. The elevator music provided the perfect mindless background music for her thoughts, her brain having checked out of work-mode the moment she logged off her computer. As it dinged, the little noise always sounding before Sharon expected it to and making her jump, she walked out into the car park and started towards the bus station. Then she stopped.

Alaska’s car was parked next to Sasha’s, which was quickly pulling away. She was sitting behind the wheel, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes staring straight forward. When she spotted Sharon, her gaze only lingered for half a second before she turned away again, her expression completely, eerily blank. Somewhat apprehensive, Sharon approached.

The car window rolled down. “Alaska?”

“Thought you might want picking up. The buses around here aren’t very safe.”

Sharon lingered awkwardly. On the one hand, she didn’t really feel like spending time with Alaska, given the tension between them that seemed as though it would never go away. A fucking soulmate marriage counsellor, after all, and a fierce anti-timer law advocate, were hardly a match made in Heaven. On the other hand, Sharon had witnessed her fair share of bloody fights and drunk, leery men on her bus rides home.

Reluctantly, she opened the door and got into the passenger seat, glancing furtively at Alaska before lowering her gaze. This was weird - everything about all of their interactions was weird. At least this time, she supposed, Alaska wasn’t begging Sharon to like her. She just started the car without a word.

They drove in silence for a few excruciating minutes. Sharon didn’t usually mind awkward silences - she was usually the cause of them, after all, and would relish in the suffocating misery and discomfort that followed. But this silence wasn’t her own doing, and all of it sudden it wasn’t so nice to get a taste of her own medicine. She flexed her hands, unsure of what to do with herself, as Alaska sat rigid and drove seemingly without blinking. In a last-ditch attempt to break the tension, Sharon reached out toward the radio.

“It doesn’t work.” Alaska told her. “Don’t bother.”

“Oh.” Sharon stopped in her tracks, slowly retracting her hand. “Okay. Sorry.”

Alaska shrugged, barely. “It’s fine.”

They lapsed into silence again. This wasn’t right; Sharon was the one to sit and make others feel weird and strange, not Alaska. Her wife was supposed to be the one who wanted approval, not Sharon. The loss of power was unsettling.

When they came across a queue at a traffic light, Alaska huffed out a breath, as though she was irritated about something. “Want to get something to eat before we go home?” She asked, rather curtly. 

Her tone of voice knocked Sharon for six. It took a few moments for her to register the words, let alone come up with a response. “Uhh, no. Let’s just go.”

It seemed Alaska wasn’t having it. “Well, I think we should celebrate. There’s a good Thai place down this street, it has lots of vegan options too.”

Out of everything, the weirdest part was Alaska’s cold exterior. Sharon had to admit, begrudgingly, that as much as she didn’t like Alaska, she was always inviting and kind and willing to give a second (or third, or fourth, or fifth, or sixth) chance. She always offered little acts of kindness that Sharon turned down, her good intentions clear all the time. But this… whilst her words seemed kind, the chilling voice with which she spoke them were anything but.

“I don’t want anything, I just want to go home.” Sharon shot back.

“Or there’s a good pizza place, too.” Alaska ignored her. “Pretty cheap, but the garlic bread is super good. Special occasions call for special dinners, I think. We should celebrate your success at the very least. It’s only a ten minute drive extra from home.”

Sharon scowled, growing more annoyed by the second. “Why the fuck are you being nice? Shut up, fucking hell.”

Alaska snorted derisively. “The question is, why aren’t you being nice? You don’t have to be a cunt all the time, you know that, right?”

“I didn’t ask for you to fucking pick me up and start trying to buy dinner when all I want to do is get home and be on my own!” Sharon exploded. “Like fuck, girl, take a fucking hint! I can make my own goddamn way home!”

Alaska slammed on her brakes as the traffic came to yet another stop, jolting them both forward. “Why don’t you then, huh? Get out of my fucking car and walk home if you hate it so much. Go on, hurry up.”

Sharon recoiled, as though she’d been slapped. “What the fuck?”

“You heard me!” Alaska seethed. “Get out now while it’s not moving, or else I’ll fucking push you out whilst I’m driving. I’m sick of you, I’m fucking sick of you, and I don’t want to deal with your ass anymore. Get out of my car.”

The light turned amber.

“Gladly.” Sharon opened the door and slammed it shut, just in time. Alaska sped off as the light turned green, leaving Sharon in her dust.

It took a minute for everything to connect in Sharon’s head. What the fuck had just happened? Alaska had snapped. Everything that Sharon had done to torment her and make her life difficult had worked, and it had culminated in a burst of anger, which was exactly what she wanted - tangible proof that the soulmate business was a load of shit, and they just weren’t meant to be.

And yet… why did it feel so awful? Sharon walked faster than she thought she ever had before, her furious strides rivalling that of a yoga mom in a park. A mixture of rage and… was that guilt? wrestled in the pit of her stomach, festering and bubbling in a way that made her nauseous. This was exactly what she wanted, after all, for Alaska to stop fucking trying and accept that, no matter what, Sharon was never going to love her.

It seemed that her anger and hurt weren’t quite linked, and she couldn’t work out where they were coming from.

It was surprisingly cathartic to walk home in the brisk cold, the weather cooling off her angry heat as she walked the rest of the journey home. She had almost gotten over it completely when Alaska’s home came into view - and everything seemed to reignite at just the sight of it. No doubt Alaska had slammed the front door and stormed inside, judging by her haphazard parking job.

She pounded on the front door and waited. Of course, today had to be the day she forgot her key.

It swung open almost violently, revealing a pissed-off Alaska. “Oh, it’s you. I was hoping it was going to be a door-to-door serial killer. I should be so fucking lucky.”

Sharon shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, what the fuck is your problem? 

“My problem?” Alaska asked indignantly. “No, this isn’t my problem, Sharon, this is yours.” She all but yanked Sharon inside, shutting the door with an almighty bang and beginning to pace up and down the corridor. “You’re the one with the issues, and I’m tired of being nice to you only to get treated like shit in response. Willam told me to be patient with you, and fuck, I’ve tried, but you’re giving me nothing and I’ve had enough. So what, please tell me, did I fucking to do you?!”

Fuming again, Sharon shrugged off her coat and stormed into the kitchen, Alaska hot on her heels. She could practically see the steam coming out of her reddened ears.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Alaska? I don’t have time for your stupid games.”

Alaska almost growled. “You! I’m talking about you, Sharon, and how you seem to have no fucking regard for other people. I don’t care if you don’t like the laws about timers because fuck, tons of people don’t, and they’re fucking excessive and I understand that. Hate the system all you fucking want, but don’t take your anger out on me when I did nothing to you. I’ve done everything I can to make you comfortable here and then you- you-”

Sharon stood still and seethed, listening to Alaska’s rant with her jaw clenched. “Communication is key for a healthy marriage, you of all people should know that. Get to the fucking point.”

“I’M GETTING THERE!” Alaska screamed, and the force of her shout shocked Sharon into silence. Her face was distraught, pulled tight with fury and rage that seemed entirely uncharacteristic for someone like her. She was rational, collected, measured - someone who was pragmatic and logical. She didn’t just explode in emotional outbursts, or at least, Sharon had never thought she would.

“All I want to know,” She breathed, her tone dangerously calm, “Is what I did to make you hate me, and what I can do to make you like me. Because this- this-”

She held up her phone, the screen flashing in Sharon’s face - a screenshot of her newly-viral article. 

“I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve this, okay?!”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I had the freedom to write about what I wanted, and so I wrote about what no one gets to hear, because sycophantic bitches like you who love the taste of government boots sit here all day and tell us how wonderful it is that we’re forced into marriages! Well, fucking newsflash, I don’t think that!”

“And you’ve made it quite fucking clear, from the day I met you!” Alaska cut in. “But for one fucking second, did you think about how this would affect me? How this would humiliate me?”

Tears were beginning to gather in the corners of Alaska’s eyes - hot, angry tears, threatening to spill over her scarlet cheeks and flared nostrils. In the midst of their blazing argument, seemingly a battle of attrition with hurled insults as their ammunition, Sharon started to feel… bad.

“What do you mean? It’s not like I fucking named you. You don’t need to be so sensitive.” She cursed.

Alaska shook her head, and Sharon sensed that if she pushed her any further, she would explode like a grenade. “I have been ridiculed all day - by my co-workers, even by my fucking clients. I walked into work with your name visible on my arm, so everyone knows that the Sharon Needles who wrote the scathing article is the same one that I’m married to.”

As she ranted, tears spilling over, Alaska kicked off her heels, ignoring how they flew across the room and likely damaged something of hers. The resulting clatter seemed to only exacerbate her fury.

“I’m a marriage counsellor, Sharon.” She stressed, leaning over the worktop. “My entire livelihood is helping people come to terms with their relationships and live out long, happy lives together in whatever way suits them best. All fucking day, I’ve had people laughing and sneering in my face, my own fucking clients telling me that if I can’t fix my own marriage, how the hell am I supposed to fix theirs?”

She swiped away her tears in a vicious motion. “Humiliated and ridiculed, all fucking day, because you made your goddamn think-piece into more of an attack on me than you did an attack on the system that you’re actually mad at. I just- I can’t take this anymore, Sharon.”

With mounting guilt, Sharon mustered as much disdain into her voice as she could. “Can’t take what? Enlighten me.”

“You!” Alaska’s eyes were shining, her chest heaving with the effort of yelling and crying all at once. “You’re spiteful, you’re mean, you’re bitter and nasty and cruel and I have noidea why that is, but I wish I fucking knew so I could something, anything! I’m not asking you to love me, Sharon, because I don’t think you have it in you to love. I’m just - fuck, I’m asking you to try and not be a cunt all the time because maybe if we could be respectful to each other, something could grow out of that. We could be friends. But you’re just fucking horrible.”

A thousand insults sprang to the forefront of Sharon’s mind, her brain working overtime to provide her with harsh, cutting remarks that could stop Alaska in her tracks and effectively win the argument. Each and every one of them halted at her tongue, disappeared, and Sharon deflated.

“I know.”

Alaska faltered. “You- what?”

“I’m a horrible, terrible person, Alaska. I don’t think about anyone else because the only person I can rely on is me, I don’t fucking want anybody else. A soulmate goes against absolutely everything that I stand for as a person.” Sharon found herself suddenly bearing her soul in front of her furious wife, more vulnerable than she had felt in a long time. “I should’ve thought about what this would all mean for you. But I don’t think about others, ever. I get hurt when I think about others.”

Little tear droplets clung to Alaska’s eyelashes, clumping them together as she regarded Sharon with a gaze far gentler than her previously stony glare. All at once, her anger seemed to dissipate.

“I’m never gonna hurt you, Sharon. At the end of all of this fucked up shit, I’ve got your back. I’m your soulmate.”

Sharon shook her head, faster than she meant to. “There’s no such thing.”

Alaska softened. “I read that true hatred can only come from something you once loved. I don’t know if that’s true, but-”

“I don’t want to get into it.” Sharon answered, quietly. “Can I just apologise and try and be better?”

Biting her lip, Alaska nodded infinitesimally and sighed. “Yeah… But if something’s hurting you, and I can help-”

“I can’t talk about it.” Sharon replied curtly, then apologised. “Sorry. I just… I can’t.”

“That’s okay.” Alaska promised, her teary eyes suddenly holding tender sadness in the place of her former rage. “Do you… Can I give you a hug? Just to… consolidate a truce, I guess, and give you a little bit of comfort.”

The words got stuck in Sharon’s throat, but it didn’t end up mattering. At the slightest inclination of her head, Alaska rushed forwards and wrapped her arms around Sharon, the both of them melting against one another in a moment of sheer exhaustion and weakness. There were tears beginning to well up in Sharon’s eyes, too, but she did her best to blink them away, determined not to cry in Alaska’s embrace.

It was nice… nicer than she’d expected. Alaska was warm, and welcoming, and at heart she was a good, loving person. Sharon was selfish and rude and petulant and she didn’t deserve the love, let alone the friendship, of someone like Alaska. But something about the tightness with which Alaska held onto Sharon told her that, somehow, this was someone who would give her infinite chances. Alaska had never waited for Sharon to fuck up, not like everyone else. She had gotten angry, and then her angry had been pushed aside completely in favour of a sweet embrace.

It felt so good to be held by someone. Sharon lifted her own arms to squeeze Alaska and buried her face, hoping that her wife couldn’t tell that she had started sobbing.

[aegyotrashcan]

Free Time | Tiffany Fluff

Anon: can u do an snsd scenario where youre a model under sm and they want to date you but your schedule is too busy, but they're persistent and they keep trying do be with you and you date them in the end. could this be with either tiffany, sooyoung, or yuri please

a/n: I’ve been having Tiffany feels lately so I picked her hehe. And I hope you enjoy this ~

Tiffany is told every day that she’s beautiful, so much so that the words have lost their meaning. She’s learned to smile politely, to act modest as interviewers, management, staff and even her group mates compliment her looks. Of course, compliments are always flattering, no matter how many times you hear them, but they do loose their power. Her heart no longer stutters at those words and instead she finds herself thinking ‘I may be beautiful but not as beautiful as Y/N.’

Trends come and go. Keeping up with the latest fashion fads and most shocking celeb gossip is difficult and mostly impossible. Although you don’t try to be trendy, although you don’t try to stand out; you do. There’s a quirkiness to your beauty that draws people in, that made SM accept your application to model for them, and that makes people want to plant your face on the first page of every magazine.

Offers came in constantly, your manager having to squeeze your different appointments into the few hours available in a day. With an ice cream advertisement filmed at seven am this morning, you were immediately hurried into a car and driven to your next schedule.

As you sat in the dressing room, getting your hair tugged at and your makeup touched up, your manager reads the script to you.

“Alright, Y/N, I know you’re tired but this is very important. It’s your first modelling shoot with a fellow SM entertainer and not just any entertainer but a member of Girls Generation. You’ve worked with Vogue Korea before so I’m sure you’ll be familiar with the photographers directions, as he’s praised you in the past.” He continued on, explaining the photographers idea for the shoot and the direction he hopes to take the shoot in.

You sip at your coffee, nodding and pretending to listen. Honestly, you were hungry and your cheeks ached after smiling for three hours straight to film the ice cream commercial. And you rejoiced at the thought of at least getting to eat ice cream, only to find out that real ice cream is often not used in advertising. It melts too quickly so toy models are used instead. The same goes for most food commercials, explaining why food never looks as good in the ads.

You were grateful for all the job offers but your requests for days off have gone so far unheard.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupts.

The two women doing your hair and makeup pause, giving formal greetings and slight bows to the visitor, before continuing their jobs. You noticed them share a look of amazement and if you didn’t already recognize the voice, their faces would have given it away.

Girls Generation member, Tiffany Hwang, was stood by your manager.

“I just wanted to properly introduce myself, as this is our first time working together.” Tiffany speaks to you, eyes holding yours without falter. It’s nerve wracking, to look Tiffany Hwang in the eyes.

She was your bias, the woman whose photo cards you always wanted and whose poster was hung by your bed. You used to look at it for encouragement, as you dreamed of being a model in the same company as her.

And now she stood before you.

You smiled at her, not caring anymore that your cheeks hurt from this morning. “Hello Tiffany. I’m a really big fan so I’m very honoured for the chance to work with you. I hope you forgive my amateur mistakes and guide me through the shoot.”

Your manager seems pleased with your squeaky clean response.

She laughs, eye smile even more striking in person than cameras could do her justice. “Oh, please, you’re no amateur! I’ve bought many magazines with your photo shoots in them, as you could say I’m a fan. I know you’ll do well and I’m hoping I can shine as brightly as you today.”

She leaves soon after, after her manager calls her and the staff have just finished your touch ups. You take the opportunity to down your coffee before hurrying to the bathroom. Once you finish and wash up, a staff member is leading you to the shoot where the photographer is outlining his image to Tiffany.

He greets you with a brief handshake, his grip a little too tight for comfort. “Ah, so wonderful to be working with you again! I’m sure that with two beautiful people, today's shoot will be effortlessly flawless!”

The shoot continues on, with single shots as well as shots with Tiffany. The concept was a “girlfriend/boyfriend” theme, with natural makeup, modest clothes and intimate poses. There were no outfit changes so it doesn’t take long for the shoot to finish, a round of applause to be heard and you and Tiffany to be ushered back to the changing area.

As a Girls Generation member, she had her own dressing room and you bid her farewell, thinking this would be your last time meeting. After changing into your own clothes and returning the clothes for the shoot, you’re surprised to find her standing by your door.

“Oh, hello again.” You bow your head, hoping the honour was still visible. You wanted her to know that you truly meant your words, no matter how staged they might have sounded, and that you really were a huge fan of hers.

She smiles. “Can I walk you to your car? My driver’s stuck in traffic, so ..”

“If you don’t mind then I see no harm in it.”

As you walk together, a foot apart, it’s Tiffany that makes conversation. She compliments your modelling and praises the shoot. “I really was nervous to work with you, I hope you believe me when I say that. All your pictures turn out beautiful but none do your true visual any justice.”

You laugh bashfully and a little in disbelief. A member of Korea’s biggest girl group just called you a visual. Now this was a dream come true, even more so than being accepted by SM or than earning the affection of those who look at your photos.

“And not only are you beautiful but you seem very funny and kind. And I would like to spend more time with you. If you’re free someday maybe we could grab a coffee -”

“Oh!” You gasp, step faltering. “Oh! Oh, my, m - me? Um, I’m very flattered and I would love to go on a date but I - I’m just so busy and I never have any free time and -”

“It’s okay, I understand what that feels like. But I don’t mind. In fact, it would be nice to see someone who understands me in that way.”

“I really want to say yes but I just have no free time, ever, at all. None. I’m so so sorry, I truly am.”

You’re passing through the entrance doors to the building and you see your manager waving at you from inside the sleek, black car you were driven around in.

You turn to her, unable to make eye contact. “I hope this doesn’t make you think poorly of me. I’m only declining because I would have no time to devote to you the love and attention that you deserve. And for that, I’m very sorry.”

Three months have passed since your encounter with Tiffany. The only time you have to think about your encounter is the three seconds it takes you from getting into bed to falling asleep. Otherwise, you’re too busy and tired with schedules to even think about eating, let alone her offer of a date.

Your schedule today is an audition for your very first drama, that everyone tells you will be a role you’ll get easily. Apparently the director is a fan of yours and even mentioned having you in mind for the character. But however much people told you this, it did nothing to ease your nerves.

Modelling was your comfort zone, at this point. You knew how to smile, how to control your expressions and your body. Acting, however, was entirely different. Although the new project was scary, there was something exciting about it too.

As you sat outside the audition room, with six other nervous people, you read over the section of the script you would be auditioning with. You’re so into the script that you don’t hear someone walk up until you’re tapped on the shoulder.

When you look up, you notice the shocked look on the other peoples faces before you even realize who you’re looking at.

“Oh, Tiffany?”

She smile brightly. “I just wanted to wish you good luck! Though I’m sure you’ll do great anyway.”

“Oh, thank you. I hope so.” You can only laugh nervously, fiddling with the script in your sweaty grip.

The door opens and your name is called. Tiffany gives you another reassuring smile and that’s all you remember. Your nerves fuel you on and through the audition to where you walk out, dazed, not really sure what happened.

Tiffany is sat where you once were and jumps up when you exit the room. She walks with you, away from the waiting room, and once out of ear shot she asks, “So? How do you think you did?”

“I .. I don’t know. I was so nervous that I don’t really remember anything.” You laugh and when she laughs, you feel somehow reassured. Tiffany has a calming presence, you realize. It’s something you want to be around always.

“Well I’m sure you did great. Are you free now, by any chance? It’s Taco Thursday in the canteen, if you wanted to join me?”

You almost agree until you remember, “I can’t. I have a hair appointment in an hour. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know what you’re going through, there’s no need to apologize. But, hey, can I get your number? If we can’t meet up, then maybe we can still text.”

You’re not sure if you’re surprised or not when, an hour into your hair appointment, you receive a text from Tiffany. There’s a photo of a taco captioned: My third one so far ~

While you’re happy to see her eating well, there’s also a ball of guilt that sits heavily in your stomach. She should just quit it. You’re too busy to devote any time to her so a relationship is the last thing you’re looking for, right now.

As you go to respond, the hairdresser decides to usher you to the sink and it’s as if the world is reminding you that you have no time, no time for yourself and no time for a significant other.

Three more months pass by and at least once a day, Tiffany will text you. Sometimes it’s a sweet message, reminding you to eat. Other times, she’ll send you pictures of her new hair or new nails. And sometimes, she ask if you’re free to meet up, if you’re around to go to dinner or a cafe. It hurts you every time you deny her, no matter her persistence and resilience until one day you respond;

[13:47 pm] Yeah, I’m still in SM. Wanna meet in the canteen?

The response is almost instant.

[13:49 pm] Of course! I’ll see you soon ^^

You tell your manager than you can’t make your next schedule. “Make something up,” you tell him, as you walk away.

Initially, you had pushed away your thought to do this. You were afraid of the consequences, of being in trouble or getting fired. But now you realize how much your manager needs you, how dozens of other companies would be dying to have you work for them if you did get dropped, so that idea is no longer something you simply dream about.

It’s something you’re doing.

If you can make your dream to be a model come true, if you can meet your idol Tiffany Hwang and get her phone number, then you sure as hell can take a break when you need one.

Tiffany spots you enter the canteen and look around for her, so she waves to catch your attention. As you sit, you realize she already has two cups of coffee in front of her. She pushes one towards you.

“I’m glad you finally found free time,” she beams.

“For you, I’ll always try.”

And as someone in the same lifestyle as you, she knows how hard that is and how powerful those words are. She smiles and you know she understands.

[mandysimo13]

For the prompt thingy: #148 - “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

Hi nonny! Sorry this has taken so long but I hope the wait was worth it! 

Sherlock dragged himself up the steps to their flat, swaying on his feet in exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that only comes after good chase from a good case, complete with the food and sleep deprivation associated with a good puzzle. Every part of him was humming with satisfaction and called for the only thing that would make his victory complete: sleep. 

As much as he liked to poke fun at John for needing such pedestrian things like food and sleep, he knew he wasn’t immune to them himself. And, upon opening the door to see the comfortingly familiar sight of the couch, his motivation to make the extra steps to his bed seemed insurmountable. 

With a sigh of gratitude, he tipped himself over the arm rest, snuggling down deep into the worn leather and closed his eyes. 

“Sherlock,” John called behind him. “Come on, mate, you’re going to get a crick in your neck if you sleep like that.”

“Nnnnngh,” was all the protest Sherlock could muster in reply, though he was sure that it sufficiently conveyed “piss off, trying to sleep here, John”. 

John put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently to try and rouse him. Not wanting to be bothered, he pretended to be asleep so as not to be further disturbed. John huffed a soft “git” and walked away, leaving him be. Triumphant, Sherlock let his mind drift on its way to sleep. 

But then the weight of a blanket covered his body and nearly jerked him out of his limbo between wakefulness and sleep. He felt the dry pressure of a set of lips against his temple and it took all his remaining will power not to press back into it. Then, impossibly, a voice whispered to him. 

“Good night, Sherlock.”

John! John kissed me good night! Whatwhatwhatwhatwha....zzzzzz

He was fully asleep before he could process what had just happened. 

Sherlock grumbled awake. Frowning, he rubbed his neck as, predictably, a crick presented itself. Fresh-faced and smiling, John came tromping down the stairs and smiled at Sherlock’s discomfort. 

“Not a word,” Sherlock told him, wagging a finger in warning. 

“Wasn’t gonna,” John assured him. “Tea?”

“God, yes.” 

Breakfast was a normal affair of tea, toast, and eggs. Sherlock munched away on his toast, having the inkling that he was forgetting something. Something important. It bothered him. 

John took in his furrowed brows and asked if there was anything wrong. Sherlock shook his head. “Not that I can recall. I just feel...fuzzy. There’s a piece of data out of place but I can’t recall it. Terribly annoying.” 

John stood, putting his dishes in the sink. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find it.” He put a comforting hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and said, “I’m off to the clinic. See you tonight.” 

Sherlock’s whole body stiffened. John’s hand on him, like the night before, triggered his memory. John trying to rouse him, the blanket, the kiss. He looked up into John’s eyes to find his expression soft but not overly affectionate. He didn’t look like he wanted to kiss him again. Perhaps it had been a fluke. A sudden urge to care for someone after strenuous activity. It wouldn’t have been unheard of. 

But...what if John wanted to kiss him for real. On the lips, on Sherlock’s conscious person, being kissed in return? Did Sherlock want that? Yes, completely and totally, he answered himself immediately.

“Are you alright, Sherlock,” John asked, knocking him out of his reverie.

Sherlock physically shook the thoughts from his mind. “I’m sorry, lost in thought. Yes, quite alright.”

“Alright, then. See you later.” Then he was gone without another word, footsteps fading down the stairs then out onto the streets of London. 

Sherlock stared after him, at the empty space John had left behind, formulating a plan. It wouldn’t be too difficult to test his theory. He simply needed to give John more chances to kiss him. Both awake and asleep. He would pretend to fall asleep everywhere in the flat if that gave John more chances. He would present opportunities whilst awake that would clearly indicate that kissing was an option. He would find ways to entice John Watson to kiss him again, one way or another. 

Path set, he got to work. 

Over the course of a week, Sherlock had pretended to fall asleep on the couch again, in his chair, in the cab on the way home from dinner, and at the kitchen table. Falling asleep on the couch again hadn’t garnered a kiss, only a shaking awake and a question of whether or not he wanted thai for dinner. The cab ride also hadn’t yielded any kisses, thought Sherlock supposed it was because that was more public and thus a touch more embarrassing for a grown man to be seen kissing another grown man whilst he slept so he could forgive that. 

However, falling asleep curled up in his chair and at the table with his head curled into his arms brought forth promising results. 

In his chair, John had gently brushed the fringe away from Sherlock’s head and a ghost of a kiss was brushed above his eyebrow. Happiness had curled itself so completely in his chest that he couldn’t help but snuggle down further into his chair, hoping that John would repeat the action after seeing how pleasantly Sherlock had reacted. But, alas, it was just the one and Sherlock was left to sleep. 

Falling asleep at the table had John tiptoeing quietly into the kitchen, sighing fondly. Before Sherlock knew it, John’s hand was smoothing the curls of his hair down and a kiss was pressed firmly, lovingly, onto the top of his head. John stood there for several long minutes, staring at him, and Sherlock longed to drop the experiment and tell John to do it again but against his lips. 

But before he could muster the courage, John had retreated, leaving Sherlock to sham a fake yawn and “wake up”. 

He put down these reactions to the probability of John thinking he was “adorable” and had to suppress an eye-roll at the thought. Still, he wouldn’t discourage the moniker if it got John kissing him more often. 

Part one of the experiment, recreating conditions for John to kiss him while sleeping was definitely coming along swimmingly. Part two, however, was proving more difficult. 

Sherlock had presented numerous opportunities for kissing. He invaded John’s personal space, angling his face closely as he spoke to his flatmate to give him  convenient access. He complimented him, making the man smile and boosting his confidence and hopefully making him more susceptible to affectionate outbursts. He even took the man out for dinner! At Angelo’s no less! With a candle, wine, and dessert and all! The whole lot clearly indicating a date! But no matter what he tried, John would just stare at his lips, breathe a mote quicker, and find a reason to excuse himself anytime Sherlock thought he might have convinced John to make a move. 

When John left for the clinic he tugged the ends of his hair in frustration and began pacing. He desperately wanted to take John’s face in his hands and just kiss him already! But that would defeat the purpose of the experiment, trying to decipher John’s real feelings. No, he would not rush the man. No matter how he felt. At a loss, Sherlock settled onto the couch to reorganize his mind palace. 

Next thing he knew it was dark and John was home. He could hear his flatmate’s steps coming up the stairs and he forced himself to remain in his semi-sprawled state on the couch. It would be clear to John that he had fallen asleep while reorganizing. Definitely something John would consider “adorable” while Sherlock would find it lazy and unproductive. 

John stepped through the door and chuckled slightly to see Sherlock passed out on the couch. Sherlock listened as John toed off his shoes and set his briefcase aside. The rustling of clothing signaled the removal of a jacket and then quiet feet were padding their way over to the couch. Sherlock suppressed a smirk at John’s attempts to not disturb him. John leaned down, quite close to his face and whispered, “bloody narcoleptic cat, you are.” 

Then, something new happened. 

John didn’t direct his kiss to Sherlock’s forehead, temple, or crown of his head. Nor did he put it on his eyebrows, nose or cheek. 

He kissed the corner of Sherlock’s lips. A brief, chaste action borne of sentiment and it made Sherlock’s heart ache. He couldn’t hold back any longer, knowing now for sure this was beyond simple affection. 

Without opening his eyes he spoke to John. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

John jumped backward, not expecting Sherlock to open his mouth. “Jeezus, Sherlock!” When Sherlock opened his eyes, John was clutching his heart, eyes wide. 

“Answer the question, John,” he pushed. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

John hung his head in embarrassment. “You’ve known this whole time?” 

“I’ve only been testing my theory for about a week. Though, judging by the ease of your actions and your words just now, I take it you’ve been doing it longer?”

John nodded. “Awhile, yeah.”

“How long is awhile?”

John bit his lip. “A couple months.”

“Months?! Good god, John! Whatever for?! And you still haven’t answered my original question! I do so hate to repeat myself.”

John sighed heavily and sat next to Sherlock on the couch. “They’re one in the same. Sneakily doing it while you’re asleep.” He clasped his hands in his lap and refused to look at Sherlock in the eye. “I’ve come to terms with my...attraction to you, Sherlock. But you said before that you were married to your work. That you were uninterested. And you’ve dated no one the whole time we’ve been flatmates and so I thought-”

He paused, reigning in some of his panic. “I thought that you would call me stupid, sentimental, and be angry with me. I’ve tried to be a good sport about it. I don’t force myself on you. You’re my friend.” he said, finally looking up at him. “I don’t want to lose you.” His lips stretched into a small, sad smile and he continued. “But when you’re sleeping it’s...safe. Your face looks soft, sweet, open. How could anyone not want to kiss you?”

Sherlock’s heart began to break. “John-”

“But now that you know, I suppose I’ve cocked it all up.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

Sherlock blinked, not at all understanding. “Where?”

“A new flat. That’s what you want, right? To not live with a flatmate pining for you.”

The words left Sherlock’s lips without permission. “John, you’re an idiot.”

John flinched, stung. “Yeah, got it.” He stood up and turned, making his way towards the stairs to his room. 

Without thinking, Sherlock’s hand shot out to grip John’s wrist. “John, wait!” They stood there, staring at each other. John was determined not to speak first so, swallowing thickly, Sherlock plucked up his courage. He drew John close, his flatmate moving willingly even as his eyes darted around Sherlock nervously. One hand still clasped firmly around John’s wrist, the other came up to caress John’s cheek. John’s eyes were wide and uncertain, silently pleading for explanation. 

Then, without further prompting or explanation, Sherlock bent his head and kissed him. 

John stiffened in surprise at first. But when Sherlock showed no signs of stopping or announcing that his kiss was a trick, he kissed back with enthusiasm. He parted his lips with a soft groan, allowing Sherlock to deepen the kiss. His hands went into Sherlock’s hair as Sherlock’s arms wound themselves around John’s waist. The kiss was unhurried, tender, full of sliding lips and tasting tongues until they needed to part for breath. 

John opened his eyes, staring up at Sherlock. “Sherlock-”

“You’ve had lots of kisses in your life, haven’t you John?”

John licked his lips then nodded. “Lots.” 

“All manner of kisses. Men, women.”

“Yes.”

Sherlock pulled him impossibly closer and nuzzled John’s nose with his own. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling. “Fancy a few more?”

John chuckled lightly, answering even as he kissed him, “oh god, yes.” 

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Jealousy VI

Prompt: Perhaps a continuation of your Jealousy series? Canon S3 universe -- Clarke, who is slowly but surely reconciling with Lexa, runs into Niylah in Polis. Lexa observes their interaction. Cue awkwardness and maybe a bit of jealousy. But, of course, Lexa would never admit it since jealousy is the product of weak mind or something like that. :)

Previously on Jealousy

The night was quiet, the hour so late that even those who fought against sleep failed against its power. The curtain danced in the breeze while the cold seeped in under it, freezing the concrete floor, slowly spreading into the room like a disease. It was no match for the bodies in the bed. 

Deftly, it was the loudest noise in the room. Lexa allowed it to deafen her, the sound of her fingertips moving along the bare skin. Carefully, she watched her fingertip move along protrusion of spine, the little mountains and hills of ribs, the gentle waves of adjusting muscle. It took all of her concentration to memorize the moment, the instant in time. 

“You’re still mad at me,” she whispered, her cheek against shoulder blade, her ear listening to the skip in her pillow’s heartbeat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“I have.”

“What else can I do?” 

“Just this,” Clarke whispered and closed her eyes. 

From her spot, Lexa felt the deep, long inhale, she heard it enter the lungs and swell to unheard of peaks once more, felt it hold there. She held it herself, digging a deep breath of warm skin. 

“You would have done the same thing.” 

“I know,” she finally sighed, letting out the mountain of air she held. 

“I think you want to believe you’ve forgiven me, but you feel far away,” Lexa whispered. 

“I’m right here,” Clarke turned her head. “I’m in your bed.” 

“It’s not the same.” 

Her lips moved to the bare skin of shoulder. Lexa kissed the pink scars that sat there, she rested her forehead against spine, and she tried to memorize what she could. 

“In another world, we’re two different people. We’re allowed to fall in love.” 

“Yeah,” she smiled sadly. “I don’t know about permission, but I fell in love with you in this world as well.” 

“Me too,” Clarke agreed sadly.

Slowly, she shifted her body, rolled over slightly, let Lexa hover over her, press the entirety of her being against her own that that there was nothing between them at all. 

“Will it always be like this, or will you come back to me?” she whispered as she pushed hair from Clarke’s eyes, from her forehead. 

“I never went anywhere,” Clarke promised with a small smile. “Not completely.” 

From her spot, Lexa mimicked the smile, small and sad as it was. She tried to find solace in the words but she found it impossible. She had those eyes though, those blue eyes that were honest and strong and absolutely damning. 

And so Lexa just kissed her again, as she always did when she was too afraid o an actual answer. There was too much good between them to be gone forever, and she chose to believe that. She chose to cling to the tiniest of moments. 

“I just want to be happy, and myself,” Clarke whispered as Lexa pulled away. 

“That’s all I want for you.” 

“Don’t give up on me.” It was quiet and needy and entirely not like Clarke, but when Lexa heard it, she knew she was doing the right thing. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“Good,” Clarke smiled again. 

The city filled with people when the sun came out, when the weather warmed, even if it was momentary. Just a break in the chill, the slow thaw of spring made the world come alive. 

Amidst the crowds, those coming to trade, the impending summer and the impending peace, the city found itself bursting at the seams with possibilities and hope and life, pure life. 

“Here, try these,” Lexa grinned, carefully tossing a berry into her mouth before holding a handful out to Clarke. “They’re sweet at the end of summer.” 

“Oh goodness,” Clarke squealed and squinted up her face at the sourness that came the moment she chewed. 

“Not so much now,” the Commander laughed. 

“You did that on purpose,” she accused, bumping her with her hip. 

“A little bit.”

“They’re good, aren’t they?” 

“Kind of addicting actually.” 

“In two months, they’ll be so sweet you won’t want to stop eating them,” Lexa explained, quickly paying for another handful and following the girl from the sky who moved with reckless abandon. 

When she caught up again, she let Clarke drag her through familiar streets, asking questions, answering, she asked her own to unlock as much as she could. 

When they stopped for water, Lexa let Clarke lean against her side. When they made their way through the street toward the music, she felt like she was a bit normal, like they were a bit normal, like this was something that could happen often. Somewhere between the dancing and the snacks, there was Lexa never letting go of Clarke’s hand, and earning a bit of a smile with it. 

“Let’s go back to the tower,” Clarke whispered, letting her eyes drift to Lexa’s lips. “It’s been a long day.” 

“There are stories, if you wanted to hear some of our history.” 

“I like it when you tell it better,” she shrugged. 

“Okay,” she smiled, nodding and ducking her head a bit, unaccustomed still to such honest kind of compliments. 

There was a blush to her ears, the tips of them burning against the chill that came from the springs loss of battle, the winter tugging the night back from the summer day. 

With a little tug, Clarke led the way. 

Happy and oblivious, Lexa followed, not really carrying at all bout anything else that was happening. The night hung gentle against the people who refused to be deterred by the chill. 

“Ooof,” she paused, bumping into the lead who stopped very quickly. “Sorry.” 

“Niylah?” Clarke cocked her head, barely noticing the body that ran into her own as she stopped. 

Lexa felt her hand drop a second later. Like a disconnected experience, she watched Clarke launch herself toward another. 

There was nothing she could do but watch it, and stand there. With a tiny little needling feeling on the back of her hands and neck, she watched Clarke smile so wide it couldn’t be anything but genuine. 

The reconnection was almost instantaneous. Lexa knew of it, vaguely, and yet to see it was something else entirely. To see lingering hands and slowly fading smiles. It even took a few minutes to be remembered. 

“This is Lexa,” Clarke finally realized after a few moments catching up quickly. Lexa held her chin a little taller. 

“I know it’s... Heda,” she bowered her head politely. “I’m sorry. We were just catching up, and I hadn’t--”

“It’s fine,” the Commander nodded curtly. 

“Niylah helped me. When I went... on a retreat,” Clarke interjected, pondering her words so very carefully the delay was noticed by all involved in the exchange. “She’s here to trade, at the market.” 

“I hope you have a good time,” Lexa offered. “Have a good night.” 

It took everything, but she nodded to them both and excused herself. 

“Hey, you’re still up,” Clarke breathed as she made her way to the top of the tower. 

Despite the late hour, Lexa remained, returning letters and making herself feel busy though it was nothing but distraction. 

“Just finishing a few things,” she nodded, refusing to look up. 

“You should have stayed out with us.” 

As she spoke, she disappeared behind the divide to the bathroom. Lexa took a deep breath and closed her eyes before running her hands over her face, huffing away the thoughts of the day. 

“I wanted to give you the chance to catch up.” 

“Still.” 

“I can be intimidating.” 

“You didn’t mind, did you?” 

Fresh from washing her face and pulling up her hair, Clarke made her pantless way into the room and Lexa forgot there was a question sitting between them. Her brain worked to calculate something, though she was too distracted to gather what or why or how. 

“Mind?” 

“That I was spending time with her,” she clarified, winding her way around the bed and toward the chair. 

“Why would I mind?” Lexa asked, leaning back slightly. 

The muck of the day was gone. Her skin was free of dirt and smudges, free of the cumbersome gear. The day lingered with a bit of warmth and she felt it all, though nothing was more distracting and more detrimental to her entire brain function was Clarke’s bare legs. 

“There exist on this earth, currently, two people who have seen me naked.”

With little movement at all, Clarke slid into Lexa’s lap. Her fingertips ran along her neck to the base of her hair. 

“I’m the leader of our people. I don’t get jealous.”

“You?” she smiled. “Yeah, I bet.” 

“She’s gone and I don’t care about anything else.” 

Clarke kissed her right there, small and quiet, fit for the late hour and the moment of the day. A hand slid up her calf, up her knee, up her thigh to her hip. She smiled against eager lips, felt the muscles of Lexa’s neck moving with her as she deepened it. 

“She’s going to hang around for a few extra days,” Clarke whispered as lips moved to her neck. 

Lexa paused and held herself there before sighing and renewing her actions with much more earnestness. 

From across the busy street, Lexa watched Clarke catch up with her friend as she ate. A bitterness filled her mouth despite the food and something else she couldn’t place. Instead, she just huffed tried to look away, pretending to busy herself with the table of people who sought her time and attention.

It was for this fact that she did not, or at least that she pretended not, to notice the way Clarke threw her head back when she laughed, or the way she leaned closer, or the resting of a palm on her thigh, or the blush to a stranger’s cheeks. No, Lexa was far too distracted for such things.

Except she wasn’t, and she didn’t like any of it.

There was no reason to be jealous, and she wouldn’t allow herself such thoughts, except that she did, and except that they drowned her completely. Things were getting better, things were better between her and Clarke, and yet, this reminded her of how far they’d fallen, and how far there was left to climb.

So she took her own guilt, her own anger, her self-guided self-disgust and directed it in the simple form of jealousy at the new girl who was pretty enough, who had done things that when she thought about them, made her tighten her grip on her cup.

It was well into the night before Clarke made it to the top of the tower.

As soon as she did, she felt hands on her waist and the wall against her back. Lexa kissed her fiercely, kissed her because she felt like she couldn’t hold on tight enough, because she wasn’t letting herself but she had a lot of energy that was pent up and she had to convince her to stay. 

As much as she wanted to ask, to say something, Clarke just went with it. It was impossible to think of anything other than humid tongue and the overwhelming feeling of want.  

It wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t gentle, but Clarke didn’t care at all. She had forever. 

In the morning she woke to an empty bed and a flower on the table. She woke to a sore neck with two prominent marks for all to see. 

“You love her, don’t you?” Niylah asked as she stood beside Clarke, watching the Commander spar with the younger nightbloods. 

Quietly they made their way through Lexa’s old village, Clarke opting to accompany her part of the way on her journey to see her own home and family. It was not far to Lexa’s village that she grew up in, and Clarke became oddly attached to it for some reason. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“When I met you, you were very lost. Angry. You couldn’t even meet my eyes,” she explained. “And now, you are just very different.”

“Maybe it’s just me.”

“She looks at you like a dying man looks at the future.” 

“How’s that?” Clarke asked, tearing her eyes away from Lexa just long enough to see her friend’s grin. 

“Like he understood everything all along, and the weight of breathing isn’t as heavy as formally thought.” 

For a second, Clarke turned back to the circle where her... someone. Her something. Her... something, paced and grinned as a little boy flared at her and she blocked it easily. 

There was no real reason for the Commander to leave Polis, other than her own whim. There was no session now, no ambassadors, with everyone back home before the big spring push. There were no pressing matters to discuss, and yet... she came. 

“It’s complicated,” she finally decided. 

“There are already too many complicated things in this life,” Niylah reasoned. “This is the easiest part.”

“I was jealous,” Lexa whispered. 

A small smile appeared on Clarke’s lips, though Lexa would never know it. Instead, she hesitated only a moment before resuming digging her hands into the tired muscles of the Commander. 

“Of Niylah?” 

“Yes.” 

Clarke played dumb and ran her thumbs up the tract of muscle that slumbered crankily beside Lexa’s spine. This was her favorite thing to touch, this was her favorite thing to do. At the end of a day, to straddle the leader of the free world and make her purr, to make her relax. There was something soothing in it. Something innately intimate that surpassed all else. That she was allowed to do that. That she was allowed to feel it all. 

“I had an idea,” Clarke murmured.  

“She would touch you and look at you, and I lost any right to your favor after--”

“I think I like you a little jealous.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to worry. I like being with you.” 

“Even after everything?” 

“Lexa,” Clarke sighed. “I’m here. We’re doing this. That’s it.” 

“She was very pretty.”

“She is.”

Lexa closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of hands against her back, relaxing her in so many ways she was unaccustomed. She should have found more relief in it, but it was difficult.

“It would be easier to love her,” Lexa finally realized.

Clarke’s hands stuttered only slightly with the sound. She kept going though, nails making lines down skin.

“Infinitely.” 

“Maybe you should.” 

“Maybe,” Clarke shrugged and kissed her spine. 

She wrapped her arms around Lexa’s chest, pushing into her back. It was warm against her cheek.  Deep in the bed, she let Lexa sink, and she didn’t care about anything else. She heard the crack of her spine and smiled. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” Clarke swallowed. “It’s always been you.” 

“You liked me jealous?”

“I did,” she grinned and bit ear and then neck and then shoulder. “It was kind of sexy. I like knowing how much you want me.” 

“You don’t know how much yet?” 

“I have an idea,” Lexa closed her eyes and smiled as lips moved to her neck and hands roamed her chest. 

[cait-writes-stuff]

Small Audience - Victuuri Family Fluff

A/N: Special thanks to @sofiama for sharing that pic yesterday! @memento-scribet and and I had a pretty lengthy discussion last night about the babies and decided that the twins needed an older adopted sister so here’s her story!

Prompt: In which Victuuri adopts a kid.

“I really think your program could benefit from an extra quad in the second half of your -” Victor commented to Yuuri who was listening intently to his coach’s advice. Victor almost accidentally ran into a small platinum haired little girl who was carefully peering through the glass doors of the practice rink. “Oh! Pardon me, little girl!” Victor said stepping around the girl. She looked up at him wide eyed in star struck wonder.

“Would you like an autograph or photo?” Victor asked kindly, leaning down to the girls level. If it was possible her eyes widened even further. She shook her head and quickly ran in the opposite direction.

“Nice going old man. You scared off a small child.” Yurio sneered pushing the door to the rink open and stepping inside, completely ignoring the fans who were calling for his attention.

Victor and Yuri interacted with their fans for a few more minutes until Yakov insisted that all of his skaters get their asses on the ice for practice. About halfway through practice Victor happened to look over out the window overlooking the rink. Most of the fans have dispersed, they have been training all day at this point, but one little fan remained watching the Russian skaters with bright eager eyes. Victor smiled warmly at the wondrous look she had on her face when Yuuri landed his quad flip.

In a spur of the moment of decision, Victor exited the ice, took off his skates and walked towards the door with Yakov shouting unheard demands behind him.

“Victor?” Yuuri asked in worried confusion.

“I’ll be right back Yuuri. There’s something I need to do.” Victor explained vaguely.

“Ok . . .”

Victor jogged out of the rink and over to where the little girl still watched the practice from the window. She didn’t hear Victor approach her and almost comically lept up in surprise when he spoke up.

“Would you like to come inside? You can see a lot better from in there.” Victor offered her.

“Can I?” She asked hopefully.

“Sure thing! Just let me go ask your parents if it’s alright.” Victor responded cheerfully. Victor’s heart completely shattered when her adorable excited smile quickly fell from her face. “What is it? What’s the matter?” He asked trying to find any solution to make this child happy again.

“I - I don’t have any parents.” She confessed looking down at the ground to avoid Victor’s eye contact. Victor’s eyes widened in understanding as the realization of her words fully hit him.

“Ah.” He said. Victor quickly shook off his sympathetic look with a gentle smile and an extended hand. “Well then, the offer still stands if you’d like to come inside. Oh! Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Victor Nikiforov and who might you be?” Victor asked.

“Sophie.” She answered, her smile starting to return.

“Does Sophie have a last name?” Victor asked kindly, extending his hand out to hers. She cautiously took his hand and let Victor guide her into the rink.

“No sir.” She answered looking up at him as they walked hand in hand.

“Well that’s quite alright!” Victor replied warmly. He pulled the door to the building open, bowed, and gestured for her to enter the rink. “After you, my lady.” He said. Sophie giggled behind her hand at the famous skater treating her like a princess.

When she walked in and saw the rink with her own two eyes, she stopped and stared wide eyed as she took in all the sights and sounds. Unfortunately she couldn’t quite see over the boards and was hopping up and down on the tip of her toes to try and catch a good glimpse of the skaters.

“Here let me help with that.” Victor noticed her struggling and lifted Sophie up and onto his shoulders to give her a better view.

“Wow! Did you see that? That was amazing!” She praised pointing towards Yuuri who had just flawlessly landed an impressive quad.

“Would you like to meet him?” Victor asked and without waiting for an answer he waved Yuuri over. “Yuuri! Come meet my new friend!” Yuuri skated over to where the pair overlooked the practice session. Yuuri smiled kindly at the girl and exerted his hand out in greeting.

“Hello Miss -”

“Sophie.” Victor supplemented.

“Miss Sophie. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Yuuri Katsuki.” Yuuri introduced himself to the child.

“You’re a really good skater.” She complimented shyly.

“Thank you. You are too kind.” Yuuri responded graciously.

“Yuuri is too modest! He really is amazing! Oh! Here’s an idea, how would you like to skate with us today?” Victor asked with unrestrained excitement bubbling inside of him at the prospect of skating with this bundle of adorableness.

“I-I don’t know how to skate.” She admitted.

“We’ll teach you then! You’ll help me teach her, won’t you Yuuri?” Victor pleaded, giving Yuuri his irresistible puppy eyes

“Okay.” Yuuri agreed.

“Great! I’m pretty sure the rink has some spare rentals in the back that they wouldn’t mind us borrowing. They’re only rentals so they’re not the best quality blades but they should serve our purposes nicely. Let’s see if we can find you a pair.” Victor said bubbling with excitement as he guided Sophie over to where he knew the skates were held. Victor hopped over the counter and nabbed a pair that appeared to be her size. He then proceeded to help her put them on and lace them up good and tight. She was a little wobbly on her feet as she tried to balance on her blades but Victor held her hand and helped her walk back towards the ice. Victor stepped out onto the ice first and held her hands tightly as he helped her glide across the ice.

“Just hold onto me, alright? I won’t let you fall I promise.” Victor swore. Sophie nodded and gripped Victor’s hands for dear life. “Alright when you’re comfortable, to go forward you’re going to bed your knees slightly like this and while keeping one foot on the ice you’re going to push the other leg outwards and back.” Victor instructed her, showing her the motions while staying in place. Sophie nodded and tried doing it like he did but ended up leaning too far forward and slipping. Victor easily caught her before she could fall to this ice.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He reassured. “Go ahead and try again.” Victor encouraged. Sophie tried skating forward again with a greater degree of success. Eventually after a while of Sophie practicing in the safety of Victor’s grasp, Yuuri switched off with him so that he could step back and take some pictures with his phone.

“Very good! You’re a natural Sophie! Yes! Just like that!” Yuuri praised as she started to slowly skate without holding onto her tutors. Victor watched as the two interacted with Yuuri holding both of her hands in front of him to keep her steady on her feet should she fall. Victor couldn’t help but to conjure up images of this little girl one day growing up to be an amazing skater who swept medals left and right at every competition.

“She looks a little like you, you know.” Mila commented, watching the impromptu lesson play out in front of her. “I think it’s the hair that does it. Such an unusual color you two have.” She continued.  

“There is a bit of a resemblance there, isn’t there?” Victor said thoughtfully, never taking his eyes off of his Yuuri and this little girl who was quickly making a place for herself in his heart.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were her father.” Mila said. With those words uttered between them, Victor came up with an idea that excited him more than anything. He wanted to hug and kiss Mila for the idea that she gave him but decided that should probably wait until he had the chance to discuss it with Yuuri.  

“She’s an orphan Yuuri. She doesn’t have a family.” Victor explained later that night while he and Yuuri were cooking dinner.

“Really?”

“Yuuri I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I think we should adop-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there Victor because I know what you’re about to say and I agree.” Victor’s face falls thinking Yuri is rejecting his idea to finally adopt a child of their own but brightens to the largest grin when he realizes that Yuuri actually agreed with his idea. They’re going to be fathers! And with any luck, to the most adorable girl in the world no less!

“Yuuri!” Victor called out his husband’s name excitedly and leapt into his arms, pulling Yuuri into a tight hug. “Oh! I could kiss you right now!”

“What’s stopping you?” Yuuri retorted with a smirk.

“Absolutely nothing!” Victor said. Victor took Yuuri’s face in his hands and pulled Yuuri into a quick passionate kiss before pulling away when he realized there was more that still needed to be discussed. “Unless you have any objections I have a child in mind that would be perfect for us.”

“Sophie? Victor, I didn’t know it before today but I think she’s the missing part of our family that we didn’t know we needed.” Yuuri admitted.

“So we’re really going to adopt her?” Victor asked hopefully.

“If she’ll have us, sure.” Yuuri agreed.

“Oh Yuuri! We’re going to be the absolute best parents this girl could ever wish for, I just know it!” Victor said hugging his husband impossibly closer to him. In that moment though, he didn’t care how tightly he was holding his Yuuri. He was just so overwhelmed with joy and happiness that their little family was going to grow in the very near future. Victor couldn’t exactly say he ever imagined himself being a father but being a father to Sophie? Nothing in his life felt more right than that.

[garfieldtestified]

June 22, 2020 10:41am

I’m not sure I’ll ever be considered a “Good Person.” At least by my own psyche. I hold standards above the bar, not equivalent to. Over and over again I watch myself misstep. Coloring outside the lines of set morality. The longer I question reality the longer I question myself. Where I fit in this world and how I should respond. I don’t understand myself, how could I possibly be expected to understand anything else.

But I’m not a stupid man. I understand I’m unsettled and the state of the universe is slowly vibrating away from complacency. I don’t understand how to respond to it. I don’t want to take compliments, because I think being praised for being a good person is fruitless. I feel as though reinforcement of “doing the right thing,” desensitizes people when one of us steps out of line. Should we throw physical stones at those who say something wrong? No. That’s a bit overboard.

Example: I don’t forgive abuse. I never have and never will. If you feel as though you have physical power over your emotions by causing another person to feel low then you’re a bad person.

But I consider myself to have lived life as a bad person. I’ve never put my hands on someone else and I’ve never thrown anything at someone else. I’ve never given the car extra gas because I was upset. I’ve never been the first to ball my hands in a fist. I consider myself a bad person because I’ve said some fucked up shit. I’ve lied. I’ve spent money that wasn’t mine. I’ve made people cry. I’ve abandoned people. I gave false hope to children.

I have impossible standards for myself to become a good person. Until then I will always consider myself bad. And until I can earn my own forgiveness I don’t accept any input from anyone. I literally downloaded an AI program to talk to and uninstalled the program I paid for because one of the preprogrammed responses to deescalate was to call someone, “Beautiful,” and to let them know their mind is incorrect in thinking they’re a bad person. But it’s wrong. It’s only wrong because it was programmed to be so. I couldn’t accept it.

And this is not a journal looking for pity. I’m not even looking to relate to anyone. I don’t accept any sort of psychological explanation for why I am the way I am. I don’t feel deserving or needing. I don’t want it and I should not have it.

If today I dropped dead the network I’ve built for those I care about would hold each other. Like with anyone you lose, there’s a feeling of loss. They will lose someone they love but the world will lose one more bad person. Who wins? Does society gain more than the people I care about have lost? At the end of the day does my small existence in their lives matter more than resolving the world of evil? If the innocent is spared and evil is abolished I would surely go, but would that bring equilibrium between pain and what is right?

If I voiced these thoughts, no mater who I spoke to they would be upset that I feel this way. They would feel unheard, concerned for my well being, and just generally uncomfortable. They’d feel as though I didn’t think their feelings mattered. But what matters? Do the feelings of a small group of people matter more than the whole? Is it because I have direct influence?

But what about George Floyd? He was a man who had done a lot wrong in his life (allegedly) and people mourn for his murder. In my eyes the nation cries for the murder and how it happened. We mourn for him indirectly. But in his mother’s eyes she hears his voice on the recording call out for her before his life was taken away from her. She mourns for him directly.

I’m not trying to give the impression that I want an entire nation to mourn for me. That’s incredibly overwhelming to think about and it makes me uncomfortable. If you misread the previous paragraph I would like to reestablish that if I had a choice I would try to dissuade everyone who loves me to not love me anymore. But I won’t control their feelings and I won’t abuse or misuse someone to the point that they’re uncomfortable around me.

I wish I was a ghost, just watching. A spectator watching without the ability to interact. My voice is already muted in society, and I don’t have the intelligence to come up with anything good to say anyway. My actions feel invisible enough. My life has always had no meaning. It’s a mistake that I’ve lived this long. It doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel right.

I feel sick. I feel very sick.

[juliansmaproject]

MA PORTFOLIO

The year spent producing the MA project has been an enlightening, humbling, maturing, and satisfying one. As I reflect on the year, I’m hit with different swells of emotions. It was a long hard road that ends with a smile on my face. When the endings are happy, that’s all the matters in the long run - to me at least.

Over a year ago I turned in my first draft of Leo to our screen writing tutor. To my surprise, she loved it. At the end of the class my script received the mark of 90, which apparently is unheard of in the British education system (according to my peers) This gave me lots of confidence in my ability to write. However, I couldn’t tell you why the script deserved that grade/praise. I felt like it lacked a heartbeat, and the protagonist stakes were low. Slowly, but surely I think a pulse was added through the script and life was put into it with every rewrite. Mainly for my sake. Every rewrite was met positively, but many times I was left unconvinced by my own script. I began questioning my own reasoning, asking myself “why did I pitch this project?” People liked the script more than I did. I tried and failed to write something I felt could hold it’s own against Leo, so I decided to stick with Leo, like marrying to save a relationship.  My new goal leading up to the pitch with the script was to figure out how to fall in love with this story - and eventually, I did. 

People tend to react positively to the things I write, and sometimes I feel like a might be a better writer than director.  I’d like to explore writing more things. I do believe Leo was chosen based on the strength of the script, more than the pitch. But, it does give me peace of mind knowing that the school had confidence in me to direct the project as well. And I am incredibly grateful for that opportunity.

This time last year, before Leo was chosen I was going through a bit of crisis. I was terrified about the future, second guessing every choice I’ve made, and incredibly worried. The lack of sun Leeds offers didn’t help me feel any brighter. The morale around the MA was low, were told we would have the freedom to create and use the facilities, and quickly found that not to be the case. All we had to look forward to was the film Parasite, which had the potential to be a better experience, but instead felt more like busy work. I enjoyed working on it, I learned from it and enjoyed my responsibilities on set, but it felt like with a little more effort this project could of been that much more enlightening. It was also the first time some folks have been on set, and the first time any of use worked together as a team. This was supposed to prep us for our MA projects? 

What it did do was bring us closer together as professionals and creatives, and that is good prep in my book!

I was invited by a theatre to bring a show to New Mexico’s capital and I began setting up shoots I could work on back home, since I was told shooting any side project through the school was virtually impossible. So tickets were bought, plans were set and then I received the pleasant news that Leo had been chosen. 

The rest of semester led to a slow build of confidence as I felt much better about myself and my time here in the MA. After gaining Pilar as producer and Luis as cinematographer, I couldn’t be happier. I felt like I had the luck of the draw and felt very positive about our ability to produce a good film. 

Summer came. I bounced back home. It wasn’t long before I realized my absence from the UK may have been a mistake. However, my commitment to the film never stopped. The HOD’s had confidence in each other, at least from my side of the table. I felt great leading into the project.  

Over the summer I directed and starred in a play called The Bomb-Itty of Errors in August with three other actors. It was a great experience, because like film, you’re spending extended periods of time with people in a creative space, and I must communicate effectively what we need for the show. It was great practice for me, because I felt like I was out of practice. To me, directing is all about communication. Our vision as directors don’t matter if we’re unable to communicate what we want. We can’t blame actors, we can’t blame crew, whatever. In the long run every decision and creative choice will come back to me. So I attempt not to be wishy washy about anything I do, and make choices very clearly and confidently, and if I am unsure about something I try not to hide that and create a discussion. But, if I’m as prepared as I’d like to be, then most things are thought through. Doing the play was great, because I was working closely with three different people as actor and director and you have to communicate with all three differently, because they respond differently to certain types of direction. This helped me in my prep work for Leo. Because, no matter how much we think we know, there’s nothing like being wrong sometimes or being put in your place, and being okay with it. It’s okay to be wrong, but it’s about how we react to being wrong that determines the next choices we make. Through unfiltered conversation that leads to better understandings of each other, better vibes on stage/set, and a better experience. After the play, I did a few other projects here and there, but for the final three weeks I was gone, I was so ready to come back to Leeds. There was a lot of work to be done, and time was of the essence.

We were are a given 7,500 pound budget to produce our films. That’s no joke. I was definitely feeling the pressure, and wanted to make the best project we could possibly make. I am a very confident person, over confident at times - to a fault. It’s my own way of dealing with things I lack confidence in or things I take very seriously.

Directing feels like sculpting. We make a hundred decisions a day, endlessly. I think criticism may of come my way for having a very personal attachment to this project. Well, I wrote it, and I was directing it. If I didn’t take this personally, I wouldn’t be taking myself seriously, a part of me was heavily invested in the project and I created these words. The script and choices made during the script writing and pre-production process were thought out and intentional, everything had reason. Conflicts arose within our team when there were decisions being made that may affect creative decisions made, especially if it was already in the script and especially if it affected any character arcs. Sometimes I felt like the words were ignored in the script, and I was very quick to say that. I am very blunt and very opinionated, it was part of my upbringing. You should meet my parents. This trait has made me popular among some, and very unpopular amongst others. I did learn to calm myself down though, and respect the fact that I’m not working with the people I’m used to back home. There are cultural differences that don’t translate sometimes, and things can be missed in communication. I’m not into pointing fingers at anyone, because like I said -  in the long run, our movie was made, and our whole team is happy with it! Like all things and relationships. Understanding each other is a process. Sometimes it doesn’t happen overnight. 

Your film team is much like a family. I love my team and I respect my team, because they’re my team. I come from an athletic background, and film production reminds be a lot of track and field. Everyone has their individual events, and have must compete to the best of their abilities to win points for the team as a whole. We all have to work at our greatest level to work together to make the best project possible. Being the positive fellow I am, I think I had the best team in the world. I want to talk about my cinematographer, my main man Luis.

Luis and I are totally opposite. He is so detailed, to the smallest degree. I am not. I have more of an umbrella look over things, things either fit, or they don’t. It works, or it doesn’t, and if we have to improvise, we do. With Luis, he goes in with a plan and he sticks to the plan, and everything is planned to the T. Which I respect. This of course, brought conflict to our relationship. I think conflict is necessary, and our conflict was very positive. We questioned each other constantly, and when it came to being on set, our most positive qualities worked in tandem with each other. I couldn’t imagine doing this project with anyone else. He managed his team so well. And of course we had better days than others, but that never stopped us from giving our all to the project. Luis is a suburb talent, and I wouldn’t pass on a chance to work with him again.

Pilar is a great producer and we’ve been working and planning more collaborations in the future. She was able to balance two of the largest MA projects and knock them both out the park. And this was her first time doing it. She’s epic and her future is ridiculously bright. She also helped me buy that jacket in Barcelona, and I don’t regret it - no matter what folks think. 

Production of Leo was surprisingly smooth. We never left set with a horror story from the day, or a significant amount of stress. Our actors were so amazing. We casted our lead out of France.

Our casting director, Capucine was so incredible and helpful. The film would not of been nearly has well put together without her help. She somehow got the script to the top agency in Paris, and with only two days notice we had four actors from that agency audition along with a slew of others. Florent, was one of those actors. Immediately, I knew that he was our Leo. Every time I send the film out the cast is praised, I am blessed to of had Capucine find all the actors for the film. From Leo and Fatima, played by Houda who is amazing! To Omar, the police, and the extras. Everyone comes off the screen naturally and has tons of talent. We were fortunate. Houda told me herself that I was very good with actors, this compliment made me so happy, because she is such a professional, as well as Florent. The actors trusted me. When the days got hard, when food was late, when the nights were bitterly they still gave it their all. I don’t know if I could be happier, this cast was perfect, the crew was perfect. 

Post production was the most harrowing endeavor. The first cut was always the hardest, and I did my best to stay positive, but man. You hit the editing room thinking you got this and that, and you end up with a different film. By our fourth cut we realized that our whole back story that explained Leo’s motivation had to be cut out the film. It’s always hard to make cuts, but when it’s for the betterment of the film it’s a little easier. Luis and I did some “Frankestein-ing" to the project, and we re cut the film in every way we could imagine. Until finally, after a few harsh critiquing sessions, test screenings where I sent the film to audiences in New Mexico, and direct help in the editing bay from Gabrielle, Malcolm, and John - we cracked the code and got a film that WORKED. 

Look. I got to make a film with an incredibly talented group of people. People I have become very close with here it Leeds, some I am happy to call my best friends. Like people who would end up being being in my wedding party if I got married, specifically my sound designer and music composer. These are two guys who I look up to significantly, and I got to work with heavily from small youtube videos to Leo. I don’t think out relationship will change. 

As it sit in a cafe reflecting on the project. I am filled with nothing but positivity. Anything negative about my experience has been outweighed and deleted by the positive. I’m smiling writing this, because I know I’m leaving this experience a better filmmaker,  a better communicator, I’m more mature, but most importantly I feel like a better person. That’s what growing up is all about. Leo is a milestone in my life, and an experience I’ll always think on as a happy one.