#dude i hate how i drew one of the best poses of my life and i FUCKING DREW IT FOR LEG AIMING NUN OF ALL THINGS

[sharkpeeko]

holy shot i guess

[createandconstruct]

can i ask about amarant coral? the monk in red himself~

Can you ask about Amarant Coral? *cracks fingers* Oh I insist that you do. Welcome to my Amarant Appreciation Post:

favorite thing about them: First off best thing about Amarant? His theme. The percussion and the guitar. It’s great and it captures him so well. People out here like “take Amarant out of the game he adds nothing.” EXCUSE ME? You remove the Amarant you remove the Amarant Theme my friend and that is something I do NOT vibe with. 

least favorite thing about them: I wanna know more about him. Now Amarant doesn’t need a backstory or history in the game. In a sense, he already has one that connects him to Zidane and explains his motives and actions and eventual arc. But my issue is, Square never gave him anything else. If you look at Ultimania there’s additional lore about other characters, like Steiner for instance. You learn Steiner was a war orphan who was saved by the Pluto Knights - explaining his devotion to them. Amarant though? Square was like “uh... yeah he was born....? And then he uh got famous...? Idk then he met Zidane. You figure it out.” Square. I hate you. 18 years from his birth until he became “well known”. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY’D HE BECOME A SECURITY GUARD. WHAT WAS ON HIS RESUME. TELL MEEEE. Like, okay, what the actual in-game canon gives us on Amarant is sort of enough. He’s a purposely written mysterious “cool-guy” character so we’re given scraps to make him unknown but come on. In the published after-game canon, like Ultimania, we could have been given a bit more. He says he doesn’t remember anything about his origins or parents, but why. Was he another victim of Gaia’s wars? Probably. Was he born on a battlefield? Fighting for his life, living without comrades, taking scraps whenever he could? Was he betrayed when he was young? Is he a supposed to be a version of Zidane had he not been adopted into Tantalus by Baku??? These are questions I deserve answers to, Square.

favorite line: “’I can't just walk away. It goes against my nature...’ You're a real simpleton. Forget it, guys. There's no stopping this fool." I love this. Amarant figures Zidane out pretty quickly after Ipsen’s Castle. Zidane is hardheaded and also an actor. He acts cool and pretends his reasons for doing things are loose but when he’s decided something it’s always for a reason. You don’t need a reason to help people, but Zidane has his reasons for helping Kuja and while Amarant doesn’t give two shits what they are he knows Zidane won’t be stopped because, despite everything, Zidane saved a loser like him. Also this line “Tell me! Why didn't you kill me!?" Because I quote it all the time and it makes myself laugh. Amarant is such a drama queen and Zidane knows it. Zidane’s like “dude... what is your damage, it’s 5 pm on Tuesday in Madain Sari. I ain’t getting blood on my gloves cause you’re having a temper tantrum.” And then Amarant runs away to have an existential crisis. He’s 26 but compared to Zidane, he’s the real teenager with angst.  

brOTP: I could talk about Zidane or Freya with Amarant but instead I’m gonna say the underrated dynamic of Amarant and Eiko (and also Vivi).  Amarant with the kids is truly the greatest gift given by his presence in the game. Amarant has never known true suffering until he became a designated legal guardian of a group of minors. It also kills me how he’s the one to volunteer to carry Eiko and Vivi up the Iifa tree. He looks at Zidane and is like “you have seriously been the ‘adult’ of this group???”

OTP: Gotta say the Freya and Amarant dynamic. I really enjoyed their unlikely friendship in the game but then the content. The fan content. The Freya x Amarant fans out there, you win. Ya got me. You captured me and I am now imprisoned by their banter and begruntled allies to lovers story. Even if they’re not romantic I love them together and really wish the game gave us more of them. But even Lani and Amarant together are valid, though I prefer them as butting head bros. Not much content for my girl Lani out there either, she deserves more.

nOTP: Nothing I can think of. I tend to like platonic pairings for Amarant. The dude needs friends because he can barely define the word friendship.

random headcanon: Before Zidane returns at the end of the game Amarant wanders around a bit, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t feel any place with the others in Alexandria, Burmecia, or Lindblum. I imagine he goes off on his own for a bit like before but this time he’s not after Zidane or a fight. Instead he’s got no particular destination. Yet he somehow always finds himself running into people just like him - or the old him - friendless lonely people who are looking for a fight. He doesn’t go out his way to find these folks he simply runs into them and decides he might as well knock some sense into them. He does however make it his business to go after any murmur of people hatching any ideas of going after the far off little village on the Lost Continent. The home of the genomes and black mages. They were so helpless, so weak that anyone who’d want to mess with them is pathetic in Amarant’s book. Until Zidane returns, no one has the chance to even look at the Black Mage Village the wrong way because in the shadows Amarant lurks, making damn well sure of that.

unpopular opinion: I kinda love that he’s just there for most of the game? While I agree he gets the short end of the stick in the same way as Freya, not receiving additional individual character spotlight (which could have very well been supplied through discoverable lore in the world/npcs or through sidequests) I never considered his “standing off to the side” as a detriment to his character. 

Many would probably agree that Amarant always felt like a bit of a parody of the loner character, or at least the stereotype of the loner character. Amarant is so easily paralleled with Squall and Cloud’s surface-level attitudes because his dialogue always felt like something to poke fun at. As the player we’re supposed to align with Zidane’s way of thinking and how he views Amarant. When Amarant loses to Zidane and pretty much grits his teeth and goes “KILL ME,” along with Zidane we’re supposed to kinda raise our brow at him and go “...really, dude?”

 Amarant’s a character introduced as an antagonist who has more in common with the power hungry villains of the game. Like many of the characters in FFIX, Amarant is in search of purpose in life, which he has never found, because he was always looking in the wrong places - in places of violence and power. Very toxic-masculinity of him. Amarant is “cool” on an aesthetic level but in reality he’s the polar opposite of cool in terms of what FFIX states about the need for others to be intertwined in your experiences so that you can live a full life. 

I sort of love that he’s like a grumpy pitball following a 16 year old and his friends around. Then he sits in the corner when they all meet up and discuss current events acting like he doesn’t care (not to mention he casually walks as everyone is running as fast as they can to escape Terra - made me laugh cry on my first playthrough) He is “just there” but that’s because he has no where else to be, no where else to go, he’s a man without a home. And until Zidane offers his hand, at the point where Amarant is most willing to take it at Ipsen’s Castle, he’s not truly a party member. He IS an outsider for almost the entire game but at Ipsen Castle he joins the party, becomes a comrade, and decides he’ll allow himself to change paths and start a life where he has friends and lives, as well as fights for them. Which is why after that moment, Amarant finally has a victory pose.

song i associate with them: I was scratching my head for so long trying to think of a song or track that had Amarant vibes until it hit me. Outskirt Stand by Tsukasa Tawada (from Pokemon Colosseum). Amarant is so chill, he’s not a bombastic guy, so he needs a theme that drops me in the rocky open desert of the Lost Continent like I’m just lumbering around looking for a monkey-tailed menace. Some other Amarant tunes:  Pyrite Town, The Under, Snagem Hideout tracks from Pokemon Colosseum. This post is just an elaborate call to action for everyone to listen to the Pokemon Colosseum soundtrack. Tsukasa Tawada is so great and he has a YouTube. Check him out.

favorite picture of them:

Yoshitaka Amano’s Salamander Coral. I love him. He had too much power. 

Also everything drawn by @crispy-ghee. Everything. I will think of this Comic forever until I die. Tattoo it on my flesh. The banter, the dynamics, the post-game content, the Zidane prince-consort outfit, the new Amarant outfit, the stuck-in-the-same-place relationship him and Freya have. Perfect. Go read it and consume Crisipy’s stuff. And also check them and their current art out, they just consistently get better and better. Here’s a first panel preview of my fav comic. Read it.

 @hannahlady​‘s Amarant art and their Freya/Amarant art is just ugh. *Chef’s Kiss* Here is another preview because you should go look at it.

Here’s a piece that deserves so much more love by @snackage. I LOVE how they drew Amarant. Here’s a little preview. It’s SO GOOD

Anyway TL;DR: Amarant is love and life and you’ll have to pull him from my little gremlin hands.

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

18: MR. WHITE CLAW

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 4.4k

a/n: long one! sorry about it. i promise it won’t happen a lot. also, if i catch one of yous hating on holden you’re gonna catch these hands. <3

read on wattpad

previous part | series masterlist

Me | 6:42pm I swear it’s fate that you’re coming back today because you know what Me | 6:42pm MARIANNE IS MAKING GOULASH TOMORROW Me | 6:43pm surprisingly unrelated to you coming back but hey!!

Drew | 6:45pm no way! Drew | 6:45pm Does she make good goulash?

Me | 6:46pm I’d be able to tell if she ever made it before lmao Me | 6:46pm it’s her first time Me | 6:47pm but she’s a pretty good cook overall so!! I wouldn’t expect like a masterpiece or whatever but a decent meal??? Me | 6:47pm f yeah

Drew | 6:48pm I’m inviting myself over Drew | 6:50pm what time should I come by?

Me | 6:57pm if you think for one (1) second that this wasn’t an invitation Me | 6:57pm you are terribly wrong, mr. white claw man

Drew | 7:01pm ok but WHEN SHOULD I COME OVER

Me | 7:02pm oh right 

Drew | 7:05pm ???

Me | 7:05pm Marianne says goulash will be around 6 but you can come over at like 4 or 5 so we can catch up!! Me | 7:06pm I still need to show you the album!! I developed some photos I took since we hung out

Drew | 7:07pm 4 sounds great, can’t wait!! Drew | 7:07pm I’ll make sure to bring some White Claw Drew | 7:07pm What does Marianne drink?

Me | 7:08pm Vodka Me | 7:08pm Tequilla Me | 7:09pm jk you don’t have to bring anything, we have enough alcohol in the fridge

Drew | 7:10pm Still bringing beer

Me | 7:10pm And good vibes

Drew | 7:10pm And good vibes, of course

Me | 7:10pm Gonna be good 😄

◇

The bell rings shortly past four o’clock, and Addie buzzes their guest in with a smile on her face. Marianne peeks from the kitchen, leaning over the corner, strands of her hair falling from underneath the headband-bun combo she’s sporting for the cooking. 

  ‘Is it the celebrity judge?’

  ‘Sure is a judge,’ Addie says, unlocking the door. ‘Not so sure he’d like the celebrity title.’

  The door opens and reveals a smiling Drew, in his usual attire – a simple grey tee with a Queen logo on it, black jeans, and a baseball cap. Greetings are exchanged, and then Drew’s taking his shoes off as Addie warns him that maybe Marianne might be a bit much today. There’s a casual whiff of cologne that Addie catches – it’s similar to Holden’s minty one, but simpler.

  ‘You ready to munch on some British-French-American-Hungarian goulash?’

  He raises an eyebrow. ‘Is anyone ever ready for that?’

  ‘Nope. But Marianne has just called you the celebrity judge of her nonexistent cooking show, so you’ve got no choice but to be ready.’

  ‘Fair,’ he says, just as Marianne shouts from the kitchen, ‘I’ll have my cooking show soon!’

  The self-proclaimed chef pops out of the kitchen, wielding a spatula covered in a dark red, thick liquid. Her red-and-white apron is tied haphazardly around her waist; both the apron and the sweatpants have already become victims to her cooking, and the bun seems to be getting looser by the minute. Marianne flashes the two a massive grin, one finger pointed at Drew.

  ‘Drew!’

  ‘Marianne!’

  Her grin widens so much Addie’s worried it’ll rip her cheeks. She wiggles her finger, then, in a come here motion. ‘I need your goulash expertise, stat.’

  ‘Give the man a moment to breathe,’ says Addie. Next to her, Drew chuckles. 

  ‘Do you want to enjoy the goulash?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Then let the ones who can make it good do it and stay out of it.’ Marianne crosses her arms over her chest, and a drop of liquid falls off the spatula. She doesn’t even notice. ‘Drew?’

  ‘Coming right up, boss.’ 

  With a pat on the back from Addie, Drew departs into the kitchen. Marianne is already listing off all the things that she’s put in the goulash, how she’s done it so far, and how the internet has told her needs to be done from now on. Addie tunes most of it out – while she thinks Marianne is one of the best cooks she’s ever met, after living with her for over a year, some things you can’t help but get used to and eventually, get a little bit tired of. She’s happy there’s Drew, though, because he’s either very interested in Marianne’s process and amused by her telling of it, or very good at pretending to be so.

  Addie grabs a rather small box with a pink bow on it out of the hallway drawer, right next to a grey envelope, then makes her way to the stack of French books lying underneath the TV. The newest copy of a first-edition of The Unbearable Lightness of Being in French is lying on top of a photo album, the same one that Addie told Drew stories from the last time he was over here. She tucks it under her arm and brings it to the kitchen, which has a prominent smell of Marianne’s cooking – a lot of spices, some of them even scattered around with powder spilling out at the edges, and wine that’s both a part of the dish and accompanying Marianne and whoever’s keeping her company. This time it’s Drew, so instead of wine, there’s a can of White Claw in his hands. Addie chuckles to herself.

  Marianne, huddled over the steaming pot, motions for Addie to come closer without looking. ‘How does this smell?’

‘I don’t know how a goulash is supposed to smell.’

  ‘Like that,’ Drew answers. ‘Stop worrying so much.’

  ‘If it can be better, I’ll make it better,’ replies Marianne, then asks him to contribute with some spices and then stir it. ‘If it goes badly, you made it. If it’s great, I made it.’

  Drew laughed. It was a big kind of laugh, the one that fills out the entire room. Taking a seat at their modest dining table, Addie realised it’s been a while since anyone other than the two of them laughed so freely in this place. (That just made her miserable; she needs to stop focusing so much on work and her studies if she wants to retain a semblance of a social life.) She puts the album down, and places the box right underneath it – just enough to be noticeable.

  ‘Addie, you didn’t tell me your roommate is basically the female equivalent to Gordon Ramsay.’ Drew’s leaning against one of the cupboards, sipping his drink with a smile. Marianne elbows him in the shoulder, frowning. 

  ‘The kids one, maybe. I don’t swear, that’s Addie’s job. She’s the sailor.’

  ‘Bitch,’ says Addie under her breath, feeling warmth creeping up into her cheeks as she smiles. ‘Calling me out like that.’

  Marianne doesn’t look at her, but Addie hears her quiet giggle. ‘That’s a quarter.’

  Addie sighs, and Drew lets out a chuckle that sounds a lot like oh. He probably figured out what the jar filled up with quarters is, and Addie thinks he’s finding it a little too amusing, so she says, ‘Don’t laugh.’ 

  Of course, it doesn’t work.

  ‘That’s kind of funny, you’ve got to admit.’

  ‘No.’

  He raises his eyebrows at her, not even trying to hide the smile. Addie calls him to look at the albums, after she places a quarter in the jar, because she can feel Marianne is about to side with him and go on a tirade where she makes fun of Addie’s bad habit – not that she minds, really, but she’d much rather see what Drew thinks of the photographs and his birthday present. 

  It ends up taking him a long time to notice it, which starts driving Addie nuts, but she wants him to be the one to notice it, because… Well. She doesn’t really have a reason. 

  They go through the photographs and Marianne is hovering over Drew’s shoulder, nearly dripping the goulash a few times onto the album, until Addie tells her that her goulash is burning (it isn’t) and she finally leaves the spatula where it belongs, before coming back to look. She likes the photos, and so does Drew – Addie had most of them developed, both from Waystone and the park they were in. Most of them were of the places, but there were a few of Drew. They weren’t the best quality, but his face was relaxed in them, and he was smiling with a playful glint in his eyes, and Addie liked them more than the ones where he looked like he was posing. (She developed those, too, but still hasn’t quite figured out where to put them. She’ll probably give them to him.) Good memories were made that day, and friendships cemented, too.

  When he finally notices the box, his eyebrows shoot up. ‘Is this the present?’

  Addie just nods and waits. She’s thankful that Marianne is humming along to the music while she stirs the pot, because it means that there’s no awkward silence while he carefully unwraps the bow, as if it would break if he tugged on it too hard. He opens it, finally, and laughs – Addie feels like he’s been laughing a lot more recently. 

  He holds the present in his hand, shaking his head. ‘A phone case. Really?’

  ‘Yep.’ Addie grins so hard she bites a little on the inside of her lip; what if he doesn’t like it? She pushes the thought away. ‘Can’t have us swapping our phones again.’

  ‘True. Although, it did end up in a pretty good thing.’

  ‘I guess it did, yeah.’

  There’s a moment where they’re just staring at the phone case, as if it is about to start talking. Addie kind of wishes it would, and once again feels thankful for Marianne’s music. She doesn’t want to start reminiscing, but that’s where her brain is going, and suddenly she finds herself thinking about that summer morning where she was hungover and half-asleep when she met him and it feels weird that it’s been nearly six months since that. It feels like it was yesterday, but it feels like Drew’s always been around. 

  ‘Mr. White Claw,’ he reads off the back of the matt case, amused. Addie’s pretty proud of herself for that one.

  ‘Nothing describes you better than that, basic white bitch.’ She smiles at him, and kicks him under the table so he’d look at her. ‘Happy birthday, dude.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He raises his can and waits until she raises hers, then says, ‘To swapping phones.’

  Addie clinks the can against his. ‘And making friends.’

  ‘And putting another quarter in the jar. Don’t think I didn’t hear that.’

  ‘Marianne.’

  ‘Nu-uh.’ Marianne snaps her fingers, pointing first at Addie as she speaks, then Drew. ‘You, quarter in the jar, and now that the ceremony’s over, I need you back at the cooking station. The goulash ain’t gonna cook itself, mec.’

  As Marianne says, the other two do. Addie is honestly just grateful she doesn’t have to be the one helping out in the kitchen, because as much as she enjoys cooking, Marianne’ demands get on her nerves sometimes. That, and Drew is actually enjoying helping her out. Addie gets to sit back and relax, listen to her friends make food and bond over the dishes they can make—turns out Drew is incredible at making his mum’s casserole recipe, and promises to bring it over someday—and she feels like she’s come a long way from being holed up in her room, studying and working. Even if sometimes it feels like nothing’s changed. 

  In between helping Marianne, Drew puts the phone case in its rightful place. It’s a bit cheesy, but Addie likes the thought that there’ll be a reminder of their friendship with him at all times, if he likes it as much as she thinks he does. It’s a bit silly, too. Addie likes giving and receiving presents that are more silly than useful, which is probably not the savvy and mature way to approach life. 

  Time wears on, and Addie includes herself every now and then, mostly just chilling on her phone as the two work towards what they claim is going to be a masterpiece. She highly doubts it, and it’s amusing whenever she voices her opinion and they try to argue otherwise. She likes to see them getting along – she’d never admit it, but as much as she knows and loves Marianne, a part of her was still scared he’d get the celebrity treatment. Now, she watches as Marianne threatens to throw goulash if he doesn’t cut the pepper faster, and she can only laugh. 

  Her phone chimes and there’s a text message displayed over Holden and Addie’s faces –  a picture taken barely a week ago. They look happy together, and seeing it brings a smile to her face. As Addie texts back, Marianne ushers Drew away from the pot, finally taking over. Drew joins her at the table with a can of White Claw and a can of Heineken. 

  She puts her phone down and takes the Heineken with thanks. ‘Cooking time over?’

  Drew nods. ‘The chef fired me. I think.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Addie laughs, ‘the chef tends to do that.’

  To prove a point, Marianne gives them the finger, and says a whole sentence in French out of which Addie can only understand ‘merde’, and that is mostly because she turns around for that word, glaring at the two. Drew nearly chokes on his drink, and Addie just shrugs, because it’s Marianne, and no one can really understand Marianne. A conversation starts about photography and how Drew did mean to bring the camera, but he left it with Chase and Madelyn when he was visiting, and he ends up telling them stories from all the sets he’s been on. 

  When the bell chimes again, he’s the first one to notice, as he’s sitting not even a foot from the entrance into the kitchen. ‘Someone ringing?’

  ‘Oh, god, I forgot— Thanks!’

  Addie makes a beeline for the hallway, giving her friends a quick ‘one moment!’ in lieu of an explanation. She’s at the front door within seconds and opens it with a smile, greeting her boyfriend with a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. 

  Holden chuckles, and then he’s giving her a brief kiss on the lips before they part. ‘Hello there. You had a bit to drink?’

  ‘A little,’ Addie says, feeling the heat in her cheeks. ‘I’m glad you stopped by.’

  ‘Me too.’ His hand falls from her waist and he takes a step back, looking around. ‘You’ve got the papers?’

  Addie reaches into the drawer and takes the grey folder out of it, but doesn’t give it to him just yet. ‘I know you’re in a hurry, but Marianne is making enough goulash for a whole village, and Drew’s here, and I want to introduce you.’

  ‘He’s here?’ he asks, just at the same time as Marianne shouts from the kitchen, ‘WHO IS IT?’

  In her defense, she thought it would’ve been a nice surprise for Holden to stop by and stick around for a little bit once he got what he came here for, and maybe chat to her friends for a few minutes. The idea might’ve been fine, but hearing Holden’s little sigh at the realisation and a guaranteed confusion from the two in the kitchen, it might’ve not been a fine surprise. This paired with Holden only meeting Marianne of her friends so far...

  ‘C’mon,’ she tells him, hoping to reassure herself just as much, and takes hold of his hand. ‘They don’t bite.’

  Back in the kitchen, Marianne and Drew are leaning on the cupboards, both of them silent and waiting. Addie walkins into the kitchen first, and she watches their eyes follow her hand – the one which drags Holden in behind her. Marianne shouts his name and nearly leaps to hug him, while Drew remains at his spot, gnacing between the two having a quick catch-up and Addie, who tries to tell him not to worry in the form of a smile. 

  His eyes keep dropping back to their hands, intertwined, and she can see barely-concealed confusion on his face. 

  ‘This is Holden,’ she says, now that Marianne isn’t hogging him anymore. ‘My boyfriend. Holden, this is Drew.’

  They shake hands and exchange the ‘nice to meet you’s without anyone feeling the need to prove themselves to be the Alpha male, so Addie counts it as a win. Not that she thought either of them would do that – she just hasn’t seen Drew interact with anyone who wasn’t her or Marianne, and Drew is, after Marianne, the first person from Addie’s life Holden has gotten to meet. 

  The more she thinks of it, the more she realises how risky it was. 

  ‘You’re the actor Drew, right?’

  For a moment, Addie just watches Drew – his hands are crossed on his chest and he looks a little menacing, now that she tries to see him from Holden’s perspective. Tall and pretty attractive, pretty relaxed in a place he’s barely been to, and with the reputation of a successful actor – and to top it all off, a resting bitch face. 

  Addie’s heart skips a beat. 

  Drew laughs and she feels relief wash over her, instead. ‘Is that how she presents me to people?’

  ‘Drew, it’s literally how we met,’ she says, rolling her eyes at him from across the room. ‘How else am I supposed to explain how I know you?’

  ‘Fair.’

  There’s a moment where the sizzling of the goulash is all that can be heard, but Addie doesn’t think it’s one of those heavy silences, where every person seems like they’re holding their breath. She takes it as a good sign. 

  Holden pats his thigh, then, and he has an apologetic face when he says, ‘I’ve got to go. Work won’t wait forever.’ He flashes Drew a smile. ‘Nice meeting you, Drew.’

  ‘You too.’

  Addie sighs. ‘You just got here.’

  He opens his mouth to say something, but Marianne is quicker: ‘You try this goulash, look me in the eye, and say you don’t want more of it.’ There’s no and then you can go, because Addie has a feeling Marianne knows pretty well just how good the goulash is. 

  She commands the room as she approaches Holden with the tiniest bit of goulash steaming from the spatula over her hand. Her eyes are determined and there’s a crook in the corner of her lips – the sly kind of smile when she knows she’s already won. Holden doesn’t get a chance to protest, because the spatula is headed for him, and he’s got nothing to do but take it. 

  The room holds a breath. Even Drew is looking at Holden in expectation, chin resting on the palm of his hand. 

  For a bit, Holden just coughs and complains about the hotness (Marianne argued he had to have been blind to not see that it was steaming). Once he’s finally back to normal breathing and side-eyeing Addie for giggling at him, he tells Marianne it’s one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

  Addie could swear she could see pride and self-satisfaction through Marianne’s eyes.

  ‘Now that Holden is staying,’ says Addie, ‘can the rest of us have some, too?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ replies Marianne, with a newfound spring in her step, grace in the way she moves. Drew laughs at her, quietly, and Addie finds herself laughing with him.

  Marianne brings out the goulash and Addie helps pour it into the bowls, handing each of them one. The chef ends up taking Addie’s chair, on Addie’s insistence, because what does she deserve after all these hours other than enjoying her efforts in peace? So Addie leans on the counter, ignoring Marianne’s protests that it’s dirty (‘These shorts need to go into the wash anyway’) and savours the food. It’s unbelievably good – Drew even comments at one point that it’s as good as the one his Hungarian neighbour made, if not better. Marianne glows after each compliment, so Addie doesn’t really stop giving them. Even as the conversation goes on, and Holden stays a little longer than planned, they keep sprinkling in nice comments about the goulash whenever they can. 

  Addie’s glad Holden and Drew are here for this, however unplanned it was.

  Holden slaps his thigh again, in the very same manner with the very same look on his face and this time, Addie catches herself right before she laughs. ‘I’ve really got to go now,’ he says, getting to his feet. ‘Work calls.’

  He walks up to Addie and she smiles at him, elbowing him gently in the ribs. ‘That’s okay, Mr. Workaholic. We understand.’

  She thinks maybe she’s pushing it, but Holden smiles and reaches the other side of her waist, tickling just enough so that she groans for him to stop. ‘You’ve got it just as bad as I do,’ he tells her, and she can’t argue.

  ‘Wait, Holden.’ Marianne twirls her spoon in front of her space, brow furrowed, and a distant look on her face. ‘Can I ask you lot a personal question?’

  ‘Marianne—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Addie. I won’t bother them too much.’

  Marianne does give her a reassuring smile, or what’s meant to be one, because Addie doesn’t feel particularly reassured. The girl, for all the love Addie holds for her, really has a thing for pushing the limits and boundaries without meaning to. Addie sinks into herself, arms crossed on her chest with Holden’s hand still resting on her waist, and hopes Marianne picks her approach carefully. Addie might know her well enough, but Drew and Holden don’t.

  ‘Sure,’ says Drew, leaning back in his chair. ‘What is it?’

  Instead of responding, he looks at Holden until he agrees to it, too. She takes a deep breath, then, and gives them the shaky kind of confident smile as her fingers fix up her bun. ‘How important are romantic things in a relationship to guys?’

  Addie resists dropping her head in her hands. She just sighs. Glares a little. 

  Lets it all unfold. 

  The hand on Addie’s waist moves a little, with no purpose. She can hear Holden breathe more deeply, as he always does when he’s trying to crack a problem. Drew, on the other hand, frowns; his eyes stare out of the window, the distance noticeable in them. Part of Addie wishes the question was never asked – part of it is as glad that it wasn’t bad as it is honest that maybe, Addie is curious about the answers, too. 

  ‘Probably shouldn’t ask Holden that while Addie’s around,’ jokes Drew.

  ‘Ha-ha. Very funny.’

  Drew looks at her and shrugs, a smile peeking through. (Addie found it a little bit funny and he can see it.) He sighs a little and scratches the place above his eyebrow, glancing at Marianne. ‘What kind of romantic things are we talking about?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Marianne waves her hand in a vague motion, then lets it go back to fiddling with the bun. ‘Um, dates, quality time together, gifts or flowers or whatever, that romantic sappy kind of shite.’

  ‘It depends, then,’ Holden says, voice deep and laced in thought, just as Drew speaks with confidence, ‘Very important.’

  Drew chuckles and Holden smiles, too, but Marianne doesn’t look very reassured, so Drew leans forward in the chair, placing his elbows on the table with his hands crossed. ‘Look, it depends on the guy, yeah, but most guys like the romantic stuff. Going on dates, getting flowers and chocolates, candlelit dinners and just spending quality time together is a big deal. Not having that is just kind of… I don’t know.’

  Marianne nods. She’s looking at Drew as if she were soaking his words like a sponge, and not one that likes them. 

  ‘I don’t really agree,’ says Holden, after letting out a little ‘hmmm’ sound. ‘I mean, it really depends on the guy, but also the partner. Look at Addie and I – we spend most of our time together at work, or doing work, and it’s something we love doing so the time we spend together doing that is what we’d consider quality time, right? And you don’t— We don’t need all that romantic stuff. If you know someone likes you, there’s no need to constantly show it. If it works already.’

  Addie just stares at the ground. All eyes are on her, now, even if not physically – she can just feel the attention on her. Does she agree? Yes, for the most part, and it’s not her Marianne is asking this time. They’ve already spoken about this. Marianne knows Addie enjoys the approach she and Holden have with the relationship.

  When she finally looks up, she catches Drew’s eyes for a moment, and then they’re gone before she can read them. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘I guess it depends on your relationship and your boyfriend, then.’

  ‘My friend’s.’ Marianne nods with a smile that looks like it’s about to slip off. ‘I’m asking for a friend.’

  Drew leans back. ‘Sure, yeah. I hope your friend manages to sort it out.’

  Marianne thanks him, then makes a joke about the goulash being finger-licking, and within moments everything’s as if there wasn’t just a serious conversation. A little later, Addie walks Holden out, receiving a gentle kiss on the lips before he leaves. Drew sticks around for a little while longer and when Marianne invites Drew to their group’s annual Fourth of July party (very exclusive), Addie feels like it’s another unpredictable-Marianne moment she should’ve foreseen. 

  For better or worse, though, Drew shakes his head with a little sigh. ‘Thanks for the invitation, but I’ve already booked a flight home.’

  ‘Oh.’ Marianne nods, not even trying to hide her disappointment. ‘Shame. We throw the best parties around Atlanta.’

  Drew chuckles, tugging his jacket sleeves over his arms. ‘I don’t doubt that for a second. I’ll catch one of them, at some point.’

  ‘Yeah. You should.’

  Addie is leaning against the wall, watching them talk about their plans for the Fourth of July, and realises she’s happy that Holden’s met Drew. She’s happy he’s integrating into her friend group, at least bit by bit. It kind of makes everything more real; more permanent. Later, she finds out from Marianne that Drew messaged her, thanking her for the goulash experience. When she’s lying in bed, thinking about all the work she needs to do tomorrow because she slacked off today, a thought pops up: Marianne’s birthday is going to be soon, and that is bound to be a wholesome party.

  Addie falls asleep with a smile on her face.

◇

19: THANKFUL

tagging. (let me know if you want to be tagged!) @jjmaybanksbaby @ofpinkfizz @snkkat @drewswannabegirl @yeslifeofateen @rudypnkw @stfukie @x-lulu @drewstarkey @butgilinsky @solllaris @hyperactive2411 @chasefreakinstokes @surferkie @jroseron @k-k0129 @starlightstories @rafecameron​ 

[inkjackets]

Family Isn’t Always Blood

written for @e-milieeee cause she wanted to see nino giving gabe what he deserves (and so did i akaskklsk) just a heads up though, this turned out A LOT angstier than i originally planned 

Wonder and awe shone in Marinette’s face, and Alya took in everything with a reporter’s keen curiosity, but Nino could only stand in silence and scowl as he watched his best friend pose for the cameras.

Adrien had, despite the wishes of his father, invited them all to one of his photoshoots. It was supposed to be a fun experience for all of them — and for Marinette and Alya, it clearly was. But Nino was struggling. 

Because he was realising just how torturous photoshoots truly were, and that was on top of his best friend already being shattered.

For with his forced smile and twisted posture that he expertly made effortless, Adrien fooled the cameras but couldn’t fool Nino. Nino saw the extreme effort etched into the lines of his smile and the dark depth of the shadows under his eyes — shadows, which no amount of makeup could hide. Nino had even pointed it out to one of the makeup artists, but she had waved her hand dismissively and said they’d edit it in post, and Nino had only been able to stare at her, appalled. 

The director called for a break. Marinette started chatting animatedly with a designer who was preparing Adrien’s next outfit, and Alya wasted no time bombarding a poor cameraman with questions. Nino headed over to check on his friend. 

Adrien smiled at him and Nino returned it half-heartedly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he eyed the exhaustion eating away at his friend.

‘Dude,’ he said quietly, ‘I really don’t think you should be working this hard.’

And Adrien gave him that small sad smile that Nino had grown to resent. For it symbolised everything he hated about Gabriel and Adrien’s home life. 

‘Thanks for your concern, Nino,’ Adrien said. ‘Really, it means a lot to me. But I’m—’

‘Don’t,’ Nino said, grimacing. ‘Man, don’t say you’re used to it.’

Adrien’s smile slipped. He averted his gaze. Reluctant regret crept onto his face, and Nino’s shoulder’s slumped.

‘Listen, I know my father isn’t—’ Adrien bit his lip. ‘He just wants—’ he cut himself off again. He gazed up with a pained expression. ‘He’s my father,’ he said quietly.

‘Exactly,’ Nino said, just as quiet.

Adrien looked at him, and Nino let his unspoken accusation stretch out between them: No father should treat their son like this.

Adrien rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. ‘It’s not that simple,’ he whispered.

Nino put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder and forced him to look into his eyes, ‘I know. But I’m here for you.’ He gestured at Marinette and Alya who both grinned back and waved. ‘We’re all here for you.’

Adrien started to smile, but then his eyes latched onto something over Nino’s shoulder and the blood drained from his face. Nino turned and a chill went through him as he laid eyes on Gabriel Agreste striding towards them.

‘F-Father,’ Adrien stammered as his father pulled up close. ‘What are you doing here?’

Gabriel didn’t say anything. Nino shoved his hands into his pockets and drew himself upright, trying to put out a nonchalant yet confident air. 

 Nathalie pulled out her tablet and held it out to them. They both looked and saw an Instagram post from one of the crew members — a selfie, with Adrien and Nino in the background.

Gabriel cleared his throat and they both whipped their heads to him. ‘This photograph was brought to my attention and I saw, Adrien, that you were in…’ Gabriel slowly turned his head towards Nino, ‘…unsavoury company.’

Nino stared at Gabriel and imagined a thousand knives penetrating his skull.

Adrien stiffened. ‘Nino’s my friend,’ he said, ice in his tone. 

‘He’s a bad influence,’ Gabriel said coldly. Nino clenched his fists and Adrien trembled with outrage. ‘I won’t tell you to stay away from him again. Now get back to your shoot. We don’t want it to run overtime.’

Adrien didn’t move. 

Nino glanced back and forth between Adrien and his father. As much as he wanted to get involved, it was Adrien’s fight first.

‘Adrien!’ his father ordered.

‘No,’ Adrien said quietly. Nino smiled.

‘Excuse me?’

Adrien lifted his gaze, but instead of looking at his father he looked at Nino, who nodded at him in support. 

‘I won’t continue the photoshoot. Not without Nino.’

‘Adrien,’ Gabriel began, voice low and dangerous, ‘You know I have only your best interests at heart when I—‘

‘Bullshit,’ Nino muttered. There was a moment of silence as his interruption sank in. Adrien laughed in disbelief.

‘What did you say?’ Gabriel asked, his voice terrifyingly quiet.

Nino’s heart pounded. He met Gabriel’s gaze with an intense one of his own. ‘Bull—’ he repeated, enunciating every letter, —‘shit.’

Gabriel’s jaw clenched. A nerve twitched in his temple. ‘Adrien if you continue to hang around with this sort of company I’ll have no choice but to remove you from that school.’

‘No,’ Adrien whispered, eyes widening with terror.

Rage flared in Nino’s gut. ‘You can’t do that!’ he cried. 

‘Young man, I have had enough of your interruptions! You are the last person who can tell me what I can and can’t do with my son. You’re a waste of my time and, quite frankly, your association with my son taints the Agreste name—

WHAM!

Nino slammed his fist into Gabriel Agreste’s face and sent him stumbling back into the set, where he crashed into a camera stand and tripped over a load of wires, bringing a pair of studio lights down on top of him in a flurry of sparks. 

Nino let out a burst of laughter before he could stop himself. Giddy elation and disbelief at himself made him feel slightly delirious. 

Adrien’s grim expression made him sober up though. The smallest bit of guilt ran through him; he hadn’t meant to cause that much chaos. Yet Adrien made no move to help his father. So neither did he.

They both watched as various crew members helped Gabriel detangle and pull the lights off him.

‘How dare you!’ Gabriel raged as he scrambled to his feet, throwing off the crew who were helping him. ‘Do you see my point, Adrien? This is precisely the type of behaviour I don’t want you to be around!’

‘Yeah,’ Adrien said, smiling wide with pain and disillusionment. ‘I see your point.’ He grabbed Nino’s wrist and pulled him. ‘Let’s go.’ Nino thought he saw tears in Adrien’s eyes. 

‘Adrien?’ Gabriel yelled. ‘Adrien!’

Nino glanced back as Adrien dragged him, taking vicious pleasure at the sight of Gabriel looking so dishevelled; standing in shock and disbelief with blood dripping from his nose. The memory would stick with him forever.

As soon as they were out the door, though, Nino’s smile slipped as Adrien’s breathing became uneven and his footsteps quickened. His hand clenched tighter and tighter around Nino’s wrist.

‘Woah, dude,’ Nino said, forcing Adrien to stop. ‘What’s u—oh.’

Nino took one look at Adrien’s crumbling facade before he pulled him in and embraced him. Adrien gripped Nino back tight and grimaced as he fought down his sobs.

‘I’m proud of you, man,’ Nino said quietly. Adrien burst into tears. Sobs wracked his body and his breath hitched in his throat. And Nino simply held him as he grieved for the loss of the father he thought he'd had.

‘I’m so proud of you.’

[blushnik]

What kind of message would you give for beginners on drawing? Cause I'm getting frustrated how my work turn out.

Hi, hun!💙 I tried to sum it up but yeah... I’ve got a few things to say. So I drew pics cause who wants to read some long list with only text, right.

(small disclaimer: these are my own opinions and what works for me might not work for others, ALL of these are my tips from my own experience and is NOT a guide in any way. I’ve learned each one the hard way so I hope they help you.)

There are no shortcuts. Trying to take shortcuts will do more harm than good (i know this because I practiced gesture drawing for 2 years in the hope it will teach me how to draw bodies, spoiler alert: it did not. Anatomy does. Not gesture drawing)

What is it you want to draw the most? Faces? Do that. Don’t bother with human body, animals, perspective, landscape etc. When you feel like you’re decent in one, move onto the next topic (I’d suggest you don’t spend TOO much time on one though because you are gonna come back anyway. Learning these things is a circle, you only expand it over the time)

I am guilty of this one big time. I just wanted to jump right to the hard stuff but I can’t tell you enough HOW MUCH it’d make it easier & faster to improve if I already knew basics. I do recommend ProkoTV and their basics playlist on youtube (amazing channel, really and their podcast is MMM YES)

Please don’t be afraid to use references. EVERYONE uses reference pictures. Using reference pictures is NOT cheating, it’s the way you do it. How can you draw something if you don’t know how it looks like? Reference pictures not only make it easier for you but they make your art look better. Sure there are artists who just draw from their imagination on the fly but I guarantee, they are such master skill level already with such a wide visual library, they can afford it.

Reference pictures are your friends. Use reference pictures. Period.

References are great but they are gonna do you more harm than good IF you just copy the picture in front of you. Get multiple pictures of one thing. Observe how that object works, where the shadows are, how it changes depending on the angle. Don’t just draw. Think about what you draw.

Everyone makes mistakes. There are gonna be a lot of “bad” drawings before you do one good, just keep drawing. Don’t look at mistakes as a bad thing. Instead, try to learn from them. Which brings us to the next point:

If you create something and just dismiss it by “this looks like shit” and throw it away, you’ll never learn from your own mistakes. I suggest, you take a long hard look at it and pick ONE thing that bothers you the most, analyze why it happened and try to not repeat that mistake in the next drawing. You created something, be proud of yourself, accept the mistakes you did, work on them and don’t forget to pick something you really liked about the piece too!

Did you draw a portrait but you hate how lifeless it looks despite the fact you know how to draw faces? Good. You’ve spotted a mistake. Maybe give a little look at facial expressions and use that knowledge in your next piece.

Not everything you make has to be posted. Not everything needs to be a masterpiece. You should find time to simply experiment without high expectations. You may watch a lot of tutorials, you may create an entire “art plan” in your head but you’d be surprised how much stuff you’re gonna figure out by trial and error method. Free yourself and experiment. Even if it looks like someone took a big colorful dump on the paper, 90% of the time, you’ve learned something (a lot of times subconsciously too).

This one is hard. Like really hard. But inevitably, it will keep happening. For me, it’s once a month – 2 months. I feel pretty good with where my art is right now, I’m doing the best I can at the moment and then suddenly BAM. I draw like a kid in the kindergarten who has no freaking clue how to hold a pen. It usually takes a few days of trying (and crying) and then everything’s back online. Why the f-?

I saw a video and I don’t remember the name where they talked about this phenomenon. I was surprised how many people have it like this and they said it happens when you “level up” your art skill. When you “level up”, your brain thinks about the drawing differently, is more critical, knows the better way how to draw things but your hand simply isn’t catching up yet.

As much as drawing through these periods works most of the time, sometimes you feel like you just can’t. Like it physically and mentally hurts you to watch yourself fail over and over again. Take a step back, take a deep breath and go get some quality relax-time. Feel free to say “fuck drawing” for a day or two. Listen to some podcasts, watch some tutorials or art movies – that way you're still improving passively.

It’s 12:45 AM and you refuse to go to bed until you “fix that FKCING hand pose”. Please, go to bed. Chances are your brain is already offline from exhaustion and stress, you ain’t gonna solve any hands and any poses tonight. Go to sleep. Tomorrow, your mind will be clearer.

Learning to draw is already a hard long process. Don’t make it harder on yourself by ignoring your life and your needs in favor of improvement. Stay healthy my dude. It will reward you in the long run.

This is all I can think of for now, if anything comes to me, I’ll add it here. Always feel free to ask and thank you for asking me. 90% of the above was a reminder to myself too 💙 I hope this was helpful  💙 💙 💙

[tsuzuruchipalace]

rating mankai company based on character design

Note: I will take into account hair, color scheme, sprite poses, mostly outfits that are not from plays or scouts, and memorability. This is half an objective view and half my personal opinion.

Disclaimer: I curse a lot for comedic effort. I am mean because I am funny. No, you cannot disagree.

Spring 🌸

sakuya: you get what you see. a literal spring babey. his hair and color scheme’s a little generic, but he’s mankai’s poster boy, so that’s understandable. speaking of generic, his main pose is just this emoji 🧍‍♂️ his outfits tend to be kinda basic, but any outfit with a mostly pink top gets him bonus points. 6/10

masumi: okay his hair is elite. probably one of the most memorable character design aspects among the cast. his mole and eyes also make him very pretty. love my boy’s dark color scheme. unfortunately, points must be docked for baiting us with the emo fit, then as the story progresses, he starts dressing like the trust fund kid he is smh. 9/10

tsuzuru: i love you tsuzu but. my mans is so basic. if he didn’t have such a great personality, he’d be as bland as untoasted white bread. the saya of a3. his best design aspect is the fact that he doesn’t dye his roots. his outfits look comfy, but not necessarily eye-catching. 4/10

itaru: everyone who starts a3! with no knowledge of these characters has one (1) thought about itaru. sec sea man. so obviously there’s something appealing/good about his character design. i think part of the appeal is his fuck-all demeanor. obviously, his eyes and hairstyle are attractive, but the way the artists draw him gives him an air of not caring, which is also attractive in a way. his dyed tips are also nice. he looks kinda lame when he dresses professionally, but his casual outfits hit. especially the ones with light pink. 8/10

citron: although i’m not a big fan of the “character is foreign and therefore must talk and dress different and be funny” trope in these types of media, his fashion does make him stand out from the other characters who tend to have more basic clothes. citron’s summer, travel, and autumn outfits SLAP and anyone who says otherwise has bad taste. his hair and eyes are interesting, but his overall color scheme can be a bit repetitive. 7/10

chikage: i hate this guy’s fucking bowlcut. fucking salad bowl lookin ass. every outfit is the same turtleneck and sneakers in two alternate colors. his outfits are so plain. only thing i like is his casual outfit glasses. HOWEVER. that’s the point. he’s supposed to look boring and blend in because he’s a spy. it’s a smart design, i just don’t like it so im docking points. stay mad about it. 5/10

Summer ☀️

tenma: im yawning. you think tsuzu was boring? this guy has orange hair and i still find his design boring. that’s how you know he’s basic. he’s got generic messy shounen protag hair. he could be from any property. if i drew fanart of him, people would ask where he’s from. he either dresses like your slightly homophobic frat boy classmate or a grandfather who gets his shit stolen by the asshole kids next door. 2/10

yuki: he has the r a n g e. all of yuki’s casual outfits hit. they’re all different, but cute in their own way. to no one’s surprise, one of the best styled characters. though i like his general color scheme, i’m personally not the biggest fan of his hairstyle. it’s okay, but a little plain at times. but i think it suits him well. 7/10

muku: i love him. muku’s design is what i love about this game. you see him, and you immediately know what his character archtype is supposed to be. he’s the soft, cute boy. and if this was a mediocre series, that’d be all muku is. but since this is a3, he’s so much more than that. he’s smart, passionate, sensitive to others’ feelings, and protective. a3 does a great job designing characters that look exactly like their archtype, but having a much more developed personality than that. getting back to the actual subject at hand, i love his hairstyle and color, as well as his outfits. you can never go wrong with light pink hair. i may be biased but fuck you. 10/10

misumi: another great memorable design. his eye shape and hair style are really unique. his outfits also elevate his design. street fashion is always a plus for me. though sumi’s design is special in the world of a3! where most of the characters are just. guys. regular lookin dudes. i think that outside of the game, his design would not be as unique. 8/10

kazunari: personally, im a fan. maybe it’s cause i have an affinity for blonde anime boys. but his hairstyle is pretty unique and his trendy looks set him apart from most characters, even outside this game. and he has a pretty lovable expression in his sprites. his fatal flaw is that his fits are either a hit or miss. they’re either really cute or wtf. at least he’s memorable. 8/10

kumon: i love that he reminds me of an owl. his hair and eyes are very cute and his color scheme is great. and i think they did a great job making him look related to juza, but still very much his own character. but he dresses like your classmate from middle school that looks like a nike-sponsored highlighter. yeah, he’s the sporty one, and i like the windbreakers but... i cannot excuse his summer fit. also, i find his design a little tame compared to some of the other characters in the game. 6/10

Autumn 🍂

banri: i hate his hair. i hate it so much. i know in canon it’s nice and he takes good care of it, but it looks so fucking greasy. the style makes him look so greasy and it makes me mad. he looks like an asshole. i mean, he is, so it fits. if this dumb bitch changed his hair more often, i’d like his design so much more. you saw this coming; his love for cheetah print is fucking repulsive. BUT, maybe unpopular opinion, minus the animal print, his sense of fashion is not bad. why do yall clown on it. if the fit is fresh, the fit is fresh. anyway, he looks like an ass, but objectively his design is kinda eh. 5/10

juza: im sorry im DEADLY fucking biased when it comes to juza, but he’s so handsome. his hair is a such a rich, pretty shade of purple and his eyes are so mesmerizing. his hairstyle is so attractive. his face is so pretty. yeah his design isn’t crazy unique, but the simplicity just works. im so sorry im this man’s whore i didn’t choose this life... but i can stop being a simp for one second to say that he has a boring fashion sense. i mean it’s kinda hot how simple his outfits are but his travel fit is good-- wait a minute i just remembered the fucking sandals. docking one point. 9/10

taichi: okay shut the fuck up i LOVE taichi’s design. so eye-catching and fun. as i’ve said i love street fashion, and taichi’s lil e-boy fits are right up my alley. that shade of bright red goes so well with his fashion sense, making a really cohesive design. with his main outfit, you can tell he purposely dresses like that to be trendy and it’s so smart. 10/10

omi: im sorry omi stans but his design is kinda,, boring. i legit had such a hard time identifying him when i first got into this game. the scar saves it a bit. but... only a bit. he’s just got. hair. and a dad outfit. i mean his tits are huge, but i don’t think i can call that a character design aspect. kinda forgettable design. i don’t dislike it though, so he ranks higher than tenma did. 3/10

sakyo: im not sure why but i really like sakyo’s design?? the contrast of his light hair and his dark clothes is nice. also, megane rights. even when i thought he was an npc during my first playthrough, i really dug his design and thought he was memorable. i actually cannot pinpoint a reason why. i wish i had more constructive things to say... but upon thinking about it, he has a karen haircut, which kinda dampers my thoughts on his design. i like his moles, but i honestly did not notice them until the game pointed them out. 7/10

azami: azami has a damn good design. i don’t think anyone can deny that. the long hair, the contrast of black hair and bright blue eyes, his eye shape. all very eye-catching design aspects. and the street fashion style strikes again. the color scheme matches well with everything. this review is lame, but there’s really only good things i can say about his design so. 10/10

Winter ❄️

tsumugi: it’s so late and im so tired of looking at these sprites. anyway, tsumugi’s design is okay. i think his color scheme’s a bit limited and his outfits are a bit meh. he has a more respectable bowlcut than chikage, but it’s still a bowlcut and it’s still boring. i think the best part of his design is his eyes, they’re very soft and kind. but other than that, tsumugi looks pretty basic. 5/10

tasuku: tbh, i didn’t even realize that the godza member tasuku was the same character as the winter troupe guy in the game’s opening until the middle of episode 3... yeah. im slow. ooooooor... tasuku has the worst fucking design in the game. yeah i said it. come at me, but tasuku’s design fucking sucks. i literally thought he was a minor character until they forced me to realize he wasn’t. his fashion sense is... questionable at best. i look at that man’s hair and think he doesn’t shampoo. he looks so bland i could dry up from looking at him. im sorry but his tits do not make up for the sheer fucking snorefest of his character design. he’s so boring i won’t elaborate anymore. 1/10

hisoka: ya get what ya see part 2. i like that i can tell he’s the sleepy and mysterious character just by his design, but honestly, that’s a character trope im generally not a big fan of. so i wasn’t thrilled by hisoka’s design at first. but it’s effective. i like the hairstyle with the white hair, but i’m not too fond of his color scheme. his outfits look comfy and soft though. it makes sense, but it’s nothing too memorable if you compare him to characters outside the game. 5/10.

homare: ah, now this is a memorable character design. his hairstyle annoyed me in the beginning, but now i love it. it’s so unique and fun. and i like the purple. i also like his outfits. very classy. but honestly, most of his charisma lies in his face. i think that the pure eccentricity of the hairstyle is enough to put him in the top tier without considering any other element. you really could not find this design in any other media. fuck it. i don’t need to consider anything else. 9/10

azuma: i’ll be honest. im not a fan of long-haired anime men. especially the pretty, flirty types. i don’t know, i just don’t vibe with them. originally, i didn’t like azuma’s design, but now i do. i don’t know how, but i think it’s because azuma is just that powerful. his ponytail makes it more bearable for me and i like the way his bangs frame his face. he just has pretty eyes and face. unfortunately his color scheme is a little too repetitive for me and his casual outfits are a little boring. 6/10

guy: maybe it’s because he looks dead inside, but i love him. i don’t even know this character that well yet, but i think his deadass expression is great. the darker under-eyeline sets him apart from the other characters and i love how he dresses. i think his hair is kinda eh. i personally like it, but objectively, it’s meh. it’s a solid design, but ngl it’s nothing special when i really think about it. 6/10

[bubblyani]

Back for Good

(Jim Davis x Reader)

A Jim Davis One Shot

Movie: Harsh Times (2005) by David Ayer

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alcohol use, Swearing,  Violence and Sexual Content

Word Count: 9k+

Summary: Your spirits are lifted when your older boyfriend Jim Davis returns from the Army for good. As the lovers passionately reunite, you begin to reminisce the first encounter, and the unforgettable event that sealed your fate with Jim, possibly forever.

Author’s Note: One of the fantastic Balehead Accounts on Instagram once posted a photo of Jim Davis with a caption more so along the lines of “…Older boyfriend Jim visiting you at College…”. It was too irresistible to ignore. So this story was born. @tammykelly You are an angel to even show some enthusiasm towards this, even before I started, Thank you for the encouragement ! Hope y’all enjoy!

P.S: If anyone want to be tagged in specific Bale! Character fics please do let me know. And if you wanna be removed from anything NOT BATMAN, please feel free to let me know. I understand completely. 

Three.

It costed three people. Merely three for this nightmare scenario to enter reality.

A tall young man panted fast, his right hand assuming full responsibility for the broken bottle, not to mention the intense bleeding that resulted from it. All the while he stared down at his finished product: a much younger man. He watched the figure groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; as a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head as well, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement. Only in that moment, realization and bitter reality coupled up to surprise the standing man, with a sucker punch.

Which was transparent enough for the young woman beside them, the witness. Violence, Danger, her trembling heart sensed it all. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, never did she flinch. Never did her heart consider retracting from him. On the contrary, she was compelled to trust him even further.

Especially when she sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go”

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

 (Present)      

The dusky skies appeared just as serene over South Central Los Angeles as anywhere else in the country, filtering over the streets and the neighborhoods. Cruising through in favorable speed, Mike Alonzo finally took his eyes off the road, permitting them to land on the tall, young man sitting beside him on the passenger seat: his best friend, Jim Davis.

His downcast expression was evident, with his tall frame sunken into the seat. He stared right ahead, while he sipped his bottle of beer in his suit. This posture was nothing short of a surprise for Mike to glance upon. If he had squinted his eyes, he swore he could imagine Jim as the rebellious teenager he once was. Only with a new buzz cut. Otherwise, it seemed that nothing had really changed.

Except it had. Older and forced to be responsible, they were facing times considered very harsh. And Jim just had a taste of it.

“Sorry, dude”

Mike began, looking back at the road. Shaking his head with disbelief, Jim sat up in slow motion as his teeth began to grind.

“Man! Fuck…this...shit!!”

Jim drawled with disappointment, enunciating every word whilst holding up a piece of paper, “I’m so done with this cop hate bullshit!” He added, taking another sip of alcohol. Mike nodded:

“Yeah, dawg. Forget about that! ” He smiled, smacking his friend on his shoulder in a playful demeanor, “Hey, Syl is cooking tonight…You wanna join us, bro?”

The possibility of his girlfriend Sylvia agreeing to this, was at an all time low. Mike was well aware. Yet, he was certain it was a question worth posing to his friend in need.

“Nah, man! I got plans”

Hitting the brakes in front of the stop lights, Mike looked at his friend again with surprise, “Yeah?” He inquired, looking quite pleased. Finally flashing a proud smile, Jim nodded:

“Yep! Gonna go see my woman soon…” he answered. Eyes widening seemed appropriate for Mike at that very moment.

“Yo, No shit!” Mike cried out with excitement, finally stepping on the gas, “The chick from UCLA*? You…you still with her?” He inquired.

“Yeah, Homie! ”

“Dawg!…” laughing with sheer amazement, Mike looked at Jim, “I’m impressed…really” he added, proceeding to chuckle, “Look ‘atchu…my boi Jim....going steady with the fine ass college chick…”

“Whoo!” With his soul finally returning to his body,  Jim howled, “Finer than fine, dawg!”

“Hell yeah!”

Given the state of hyped energy that erupted in the car between the two young men, it would be nearly impossible to guess how sombre it was just before. “So…so…” Mike continued, holding on to the wheel as they kept driving, “… where you gon’meet?”

“Well…actually…” Jim looked at him, licking his lips, “….it’s a surprise” he added with a playful smirk. To which Mike could not help but laugh, “What?” Mike paused, “You didn’t tell her you’re back for good?”

Seeing his friend shake his head like a naughty schoolboy forced him to laugh harder, “Ohohoho!! this is gon be one hell of a reunion, dawg” He added with sheer enthusiasm, “But seriously though, she’s a real good one too, bro…” Mike opinionated, as soon as his laughter died down, “ I mean, even Syl liked her”

“Shit! For real?”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Mike answered immediately,  “And you know Syl, she ain’t easy to please”

Gulping down the remnants of the bottle, Jim exhaled and stared out through the window, “Shit man!” He exclaimed, “I’m really gonna see her again, huh?”

With his tone growing deeper, his eyes began to burn with a flame that could only be categorized as lustful. Sensing the vibe that did not seem so new, Mike chuckled:

“Oh yeah! My homie’s gonna get it tonight! Salud*”

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

The buzz, the chatter of young adults was consistent in the hallway outside. It served as background noise when the door of the toilet cubicle burst wide open, spitting a rather young woman out of it with haste. Only then did the mirror managed to identify her: You.

With your hand clutching on to a bra, you let out a relieved sigh. For within a few seconds, your body experienced a new form of liberation. And you managed to savor it on your own in a public ladies washroom. Wearing a soft smile that was easily reflected in the mirror, you stuffed the piece of lingerie into your shoulder handbag.

“Seriously?”

You jumped with a yelp. Being so wrapped around in your own thoughts, you did not even notice Yara, your friend standing there. With her arms folded and eyebrows raised, it was clear that her face was rife with judgement.

“What?” You inquired breathlessly, “Auntie Flo* is about to visit…and the twins were just swelling to …get some parole time” you added with a playful smirk, pointing at your chest with no shame. The curves of your now-freed bosom seemed more visible through your cardigan top, “And fuck! it feels so good” you exclaimed, as you washed your hands. Yara however, scoffed with amusement:

“So you’re saying you were squirming in your seat the whole time to let the puppies out?”

“What? I had to pee too!”

“Well, You could have just left right then!” She insisted with a seeming annoyance, as you grabbed a tissue.

“…and miss Mr. Linney’s Final Notes? Uh uh! No way, bitch!” You waved your index finger with disapproval as you both exited. Students had flooded the hallway by then. Evening lectures at UCLA finally had drawn to a close, and Friday night was about to make its entrance. Youth in all shapes and colors, gathered in bunches all over the campus area, even beside the beautifully lit Royce Hall. Suffice to say, all were relieved to have some time off in the weekend.

“So…you coming, right?”

You looked at Yara upon her casual inquiry with confusion, “For what?”. Scoffing again, this time in disbelief, Yara's eyes widened looking at you: “Dinner?…tonight?”

She stressed, taking a step out of the campus building, “Last week you promised you’ll join me and Chase” with her arms folded and foot tapping on the ground in pure restlessness, she was a clear visual of a loanshark. However, that impatience left her system the moment her eyes fell behind you,“…and speaking of Chase…Baby!”

With her face lit up, her tone grew affectionate as Chase, her boyfriend rushed over to her.

“ ‘sup babe!” The tall, young blonde greeted, pulling his ebony goddess of a girlfriend for a passionate kiss.

Folding your arms, you could not help but avert your eyes. All the while you drew circles with your foot on the ground. Chase and Yara’s relationship certainly was a refreshing one to glimpse upon in the campus premises. You approved of it with sincerity, even when you looked away in awkwardness. It was not on spite. Truthfully, PDA was nothing you disapproved of. You were certainly not envious of the joy they possessed as their lips played with one another, quite similarly to a steamy MTV music video. You merely looked away, for any display of affection was a sheer reminder of him.

It had been months since you last saw him, possibly 6. And constant communication was not exactly convenient for him. Not in his situation. Was he alive and happy? The sheer reminder of gunshots and helicopter whirring forced your heart to race, which was nothing short of new. Granted, you had learnt to ‘compartmentalize’, a term you recently came to knowledge in your psych minor class. Yet, you were young and only human to have those concerns return to haunt you even for a few seconds. The sound of Yara and Chase’s lips smacking urged you to look up. Finally, you thought.

“So?” Yara inquired, casually wiping the smudged lipstick off her face, “You coming?”

Carefree, yet extremely inconsiderate, that was what she exuded. A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach. For oddly enough, the sight of the happy couple managed to drain your energy out tonight. You longed to run away.

“Honestly…” you began with a sigh, “I don’t really feel so good tonigh-”

“¿Qué pasa, guapa?”

   What’s up, gorgeous?  

That voice. That deep, spine tingling tone was a reminder of your mere existence. The tone that tempted every hair in your body to stand at attention. Turning around in a flash, you covered your mouth, shocked to find the person you prayed to see all this time.

“JIM??” You cried out in a muffled tone, “Oh my GOD!!-”

Squealing in pure joy, you sprinted towards Jim Davis before jumping into his arms. Seemingly extremely pleased, Jim let out a hearty laughter. Suddenly the energy you were drained had returned in the form of a shot of adrenaline when he picked you up and spun you around, kissing you without hesitation. And you swore the feel of his lips on yours added a couple of years into your life.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me you were coming back so soon” Breathless, you pointed out when he finally put you down.

“Well, I’m back for good, baby” Jim replied, extending his arms outward with pride. Your eyes widened: “What? You serious?”

“Yep…” he grinned nodding, “Honorably discharged…and all yours”

You sensed his tone morph into a low purr the moment he pulled you close to him. And you would be lying if that did not fill your stomach with butterflies. After ages.

“Umm….”

Yara’s voice emerged. You and Jim turned back, to find her and Chase appearing the most confused, “…you mind telling us who this is…?” She inquired with raised eyebrows.

Finally in realization, you chuckled. For introductions were in order.

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

The aromatic scent crept into your nostrils, only to soon disappear out of the lack of attention provided. All the while an uptempo Latin Pop track playing in the background mingled with Yara and Chase’ voices, but unfortunately faded away into mere mumbles. For none of that seemed to be the key focus for you tonight. Not when Jim Davis was around.

Even seated at a crowded Mexican Restaurant, he mattered the most to you. Even when platefuls of delectable Taquitos* were served to the table, your eyes did not leave his irresistible side profile. And when his sense of expertise noticed and his eyes caught your gaze, you were breathless. You wondered if it was the romantic in you surfacing, for all seemed to appear in slow motion. His eyes remained seductive, washing all over you that it was certain your panties might melt and diminish into thin air. Those eyes were truly sorcerous, that your eyes suddenly had lives of their own to the point you could sense their figurative cheeks heat up with heavy blushes. For his eyes, they were proficient in the dirty talk as much as his mouth was. Breathing in his cheap cologne with depth, you suddenly grew aware of his touch, and the fact he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder all this time. Being lost in his eyes was definitely an out-of-body experience.

“Hey!”

Your soul reunited with your frame upon Yara’s call.

“Mmm?” Looking over at the couple sitting across the table, you and Jim were unfazed.

“Aren’t you two gonna eat?” Yara inquired with raised eyebrows while Chase had began to gobble. Her gaze questioned both your sanity. To which you and Jim could not help but chuckle in response. Shaking her head, Yara scoffed:

“It’s so weird…” she began, “…seeing you like this”. Wiping the crumbs off his mouth, Chase joined in with confidence, “Yeah! How did you guys even meet anyways? I mean, no offense but…we never thought she’d be the one…” he stressed, pointing at you, “… to have an older boyfriend who’s a Marine-”

“-Army Ranger” Jim corrected. His gaze and tone was dominant, enough for Chase to wither with intimidation.

“Yeah…” Chase nodded with a gulp, “…what you said…”. You would be lying if you admit you did not enjoy that sight.

“Actually…” you finally began, “We met a year ago” turning to face your boyfriend, “ He was back in LA during his break. We met at a bar”

“Hold up! ” Raising her hand, Yara was wide eyed, “How come I didn’t know about this?”

“Cause this happened a year ago, hun. Calm down” you chuckled, “Actually, this was even before Cin transferred. Hah! you didn’t miss much…Don’t worry” you assured upon seeing Yara’s pout, “It was a small bar, but I loved the Pistos*-I mean…” you paused with a smile, “….the beer there…” Your pause caused Jim to chuckle alongside once again. Safe to say it was a chuckle that encompassed a shared memory. A sweet reminder of your first ever meeting.

“And?…that’s it?” Chase inquired with amusement, with both hands resting on the wooden table, “You both meet at a bar one night and…” he whistled, “…then sparks flew?”

Looking at them both, you could sense the suspicion in their eyes. You longed to answer, however it was not so easy to do so. Pausing, you struggled with a response.

“Absolutely!”

Jim answered for you with nonchalance, while his grip on you tightened. For a split second you both exchanged a gaze of reassurance. And you had never been more relieved. The secret was safe.

“So…”, Turning towards the couple, Jim began, “How did you lovebirds meet then?”

Hesitation was certainly not in Yara’s vocabulary when she offered to speak. Leaving her sight, your eyes darted towards the the chilled beer that Jim placed on the table. You smiled to yourself. They were certainly filled with memories.

Reminiscing your first meeting with Jim Davis, never failed to be exciting every single time. Before Yara ended up in your life, there was Cindy. Noticing your evident sadness due to her surprise transfer to USC*, Cindy was hell bent in comforting you, thus suggesting you join her and her boyfriend Ray for a night out in South Central. You agreed, being desperate enough to spend the final few days with your roommate. Situated at the suburbs, this bar was small, intimate and seemingly inhabited by those who knew Ray, which resulted in a welcoming atmosphere upon arrival. Though the place was mostly filled with gangsters, you did not care for the slightest, when especially you found yourself falling for the unexpected; The beer.

Chilled to perfection, the beer there was unlike any that you had tasted before. And it was certainly a surprise, given they were the usual brands. You could not fathom the refreshing sensation that trickled down your throat with the first sip. That sensation tempted your hips to sway, urged your feet to move in rhythm. All in syncopation with the music that played in the jukebox under the dim lights. Until finally bumping into a man woke you from your intoxication. A man you were fascinated with in an instant:

Jim Luther Davis.

Such a pity that Yara’s gusto-filled story barely reached your ears. For reliving a memory simply seemed sweeter for you. Thus, you continued to do so.

Fortunately, Jim Davis did not end up being a handsome stranger that you simply bumped into, for coincidence had other plans. Especially, when he and Mike Alonzo turned out to be Ray’s mutual older drinking buddies. You were ecstatic. Internally, of course.

With the entire group packed together in the booth table, it was one loud but engaging hangout. Except for you. Somehow you preferred to sit right next to Cindy in silence, being distracted by two things: Beer, and Jim.

Blame the chemicals embedded in your system, for you simply found yourself drawn to him. Truthfully, it did not seem so difficult to begin with. Not when he turned out to be your type in appearance. You found yourself watching him. The manner in which he listened to others with swagger and confidence, the manner in which he held himself ; They all brought a certain air to him. Your attention had pierced through all manner of secrecy that he would occasionally end up catching your gaze. And then you would look away, quick and embarrassed. Though you must admit, it was a game you thoroughly enjoyed playing. But at the same time, you felt idiotic and childish.

“Cat got yo tongue, baby?”

You blinked, looking up. Fabio, one of Ray’s friends threw the query over to your direction, all of the sudden. And with that, the table grew quiet. All the eyes landed on you, except for Jim’s. A surge of embarrassment rushed towards you when awkward silence filled the booth. For you were definitely distracted to the point you did not follow the conversation. With you struggling to form an answer, Fabio snickered:

“Yo Cindy, What’s up with yo friend? She deaf or somethin’?”

“Easy, homie”

Before Cindy could respond, Jim’s quick reply arose. And you swore your eyes caught the sight of his hand ball into a fist as his eyes had grown dark. Oddly enough, that was the comfort you needed right then.

“Don’t mind me, Fabio…” you shrugged with confidence, “I’m just a girl hooked on her Pistos” you said, enunciating the Spanish word before taking another sip. You may have smiled at him, but you knew how much you feigned it. Awkward silence remained intact. But Ray managed to save the night, by changing the topic of conversation. Slightly embarrassed, Fabio shot you a look. All before he leaned towards his friends, muttering some words in Spanish.

“You speak Spanish?”

Jim’s low query made you turn to him.

“N-No…” you answered with nervousness.

“Well…” he began, “…you should” Though his tone was of seriousness, he did not fail to flash you a soft smile that comforted you even further.

Thus, the evening progressed. And you began to notice Jim in much detail. The more you did, you discovered a warmth that seemed to trickle down your heart. For you realized, you would not be able to stop yourself from falling for him. Hard.

You smiled to yourself, relieved Yara still did not know you were drifting away in your head, stuck in a memory.

Unable to stop obsessing over him since that first night, you remembered how you found yourself returning to the same bar the following night, alone.

Stepping into the venue, you suddenly were aware how unprepared you were. Even while placing an order at the bar counter, you remembered covering your mouth with embarrassment. Was this a mistake?

“Hey Baby! ”

Jumping in your barstool, you sighed with annoyance when you realized it was Fabio sneaking up on you.

“Just…” you feigned a chuckle, “Don’t call me baby, okay?”. Evidently ignorant, Fabio seemed to have chosen to stay. To your dismay. Sporting gold chains on his neck and wrists, Fabio was on a dire attempt to emulate a thriving gangster, when he actually was just another college kid like Ray.

“So, whatcha doing all by yourself, baby? Don’t tell me…you’re here to see yo boi Fabio?”

Keep telling yourself that, you thought. Exhaling in frustration, you maintained a tight smile, “I uh…just waiting for someone” you struggled. Flashing a mischievous smile, Fabio leaned in closer. You prayed he would not notice how your nose scrunched up by his heavy cologne with disgust. And how your body tightened when his eyes scanned you from top to bottom, licking his lips by the sight of your choker and your red, floral short dress.

“Who are we kidding?” He sniggered, “You wanna piece of this, huh? Come o-” “No!” You cut him off, “I’m really…” feigning a chuckle once again, “…waiting for someone…Thanks” you said, extending your hands in defense. Given the reaction of those around you, it may have been a louder response than expected. For Fabio turned red, making it his queue to slither away. You sighed deep. Luck did not seem to get on with you from the moment you stepped in here. Was this a mistake? When you felt a finger tap you on your shoulder, you rolled your eyes and turned around. For you were ready to give Fabio a piece of your mind.

Except, it was not Fabio.

“Hey…”

Jim greeted you, his deep tone announcing his arrival. Standing at an appropriate distance, he stood tall with a hint of swagger. Your body began to finally relax by the sight, especially when your eyes were refreshed by the open plaid shirt worn along with his white vest and baggy pants.

“Hey…” breathless, you began, “Hey!” Confidence finally became you as you repeated with a smile. The bartender caught your attention the moment he placed a chilled bottle of beer on the counter before you.

“Make it two, Hermano* ” Jim said, handing the man some cash. All the sudden, guilt washed over you as you gasped: “Oh I-”

“I got this…” Jim assured, seeing you reach into your bag. Grateful, you nodded, “So…” he began, “Can seem to get enough of them Pistos, hmm?” An inquiry left his lips the moment he received his own bottle. Smiling shyly, you bit the side of your lower lip. The manner in which that word rolled out his tongue caused excitement. Besides, his mouth suddenly seemed more delectable. Oh, his mouth.

“Yeah…” you admitted, “Can’t get enough…and I hope I never will”

You added, gazing directly into his hazel orbs. It simply was a mistake to do so, given how those eyes burnt with curiousity, urging you to blush in return, “And er…” pausing, you looked down, “ I was kinda hoping I’d catch you around” you said, looking up again.

“Yeah?” Jim inquired, genuinely surprised, “Why?”

That was when you froze. He was right, what exactly was your intention of seeing him tonight? Unfathomable on how you gathered courage to blurt that silly line in the first place. What if you dragged yourself all the way here to be rejected? What if there never was a form of enthusiasm from his corner as you hoped? What if this ends up being the story of a silly sophomore college girl, having delusions over an older man?

You chuckled with a nervous tone, “Well I-…” you paused, as your pulse began to grow loud within you, “Sorry…” you muttered, sliding off the stool, “This was just a stupid idea. I should go-”

“Wait!”

You turned upon Jim’s call. Showing his bottle, he shrugged:

“These Pistos aren’t gonna get finished themselves, hmm?” He dared to pose that inquiry with a playful grin. Smiling back involuntarily, you knew you had no comeback for that.

You remembered the chill outside the bar that night. The breeze that caressed your exposed skin of your legs were still fresh in your memory. Gazing at whatever stars your eyes could make out amidst the city lights, you and Jim sipped on the chilled alcohol from the porch. Given the fact there were little to none outside, the evening was unexpectedly intimate.

“Your uh…” clearing your throat, you finally broke the surprisingly comfortable silence, “Your friend not with you tonight?”

“Mike?” Jim inquired, to which you nodded, “Nah! he’s got his hands full” he answered with a smile.

“You guys close?”

“Hell yeah…He’s my homeboy, ya know? Since we were kids”

“Sweet. Must be nice.” You smiled in return, looking back at the sky, “I uh…remember that you serve. Iraq, huh?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Fallujah* ” Jim answered with a nod, looking at you.

“Whoa…” you breathed in wonder. Silence took over once again while your tongue  savored the beverage.

“And you?…UCLA?” Jim spoke before wiping his mouth, “Man! That’s some fancy ass shit right there”

“Yeah well… it ain’t a walk in the park…” you contradicted in a shy tone, forcing him to shoot you a look of concern. To which you chuckled, “I’m on scholarship, I mean…” you added, helping him come to realization, “Hehe yeah…I had to nerd my way into that gig” moving side to side, you could not help but take another sip,“But, I know…what a good thing I got going on. And I know… if I screw it up, then I’m FUCKED” you enunciated the end, which drove him to laughter. You adored how it soothed you somehow.

“Well…” he began, “…whatever fucking takes, right?”

You nodded, “Hell yeah…Here’s to…uh…positive shit! Hah!” You laughed as you both clinked the bottles together. The more alcohol that chose to settle in your system, the bolder you became:

“What’s it like?”

“What?”

You fully turned to him, “Being out there…in Iraq…” you continued, “I mean…I’m guessing you’ve seen some shit…” you inhaled, “you know…shit you can’t forget, right? I mean, shit like that…” you scoffed, “….that shit can fuck…you…up…” at that moment you could not help but find yourself lost in thought.

But Jim’s surprised expression made you pause. You chuckled in embarrassment.

“I’m just…guessing…” you muttered, sipping once again. Perhaps you went a tad bit too far with the blabbering. For your cheeks began to heat up with worry. Until Jim spoke:

“Well…Shit or no shit…Follow orders, that’s what we do” Instead of a frown, Jim replied, taking a huge gulp from his bottle.

“Yeah…I get it” you nodded in a fast pace. Robust, and straightforward, his attitude was to be admired. Funny you found yourself staring at his side profile long enough, his face could easily be compared to that of a statue. Perfect in proportion, your mouth began to dry out. You were attracted to him, shamelessly so.

“I-”, You paused, suppressing a grin, “…never mind”

“What? What is it?” He asked, looking at you. To which you shook your head frantically.

“Nah, it’s really silly…”

“Come on!…tell me” Fully turning, Jim insisted with a smile. His voice had its way of being persuasive. And his voice had its way of tearing your defenses down, or so it seemed. Taking a deep breath, you began:

“I kept thinking about this but…” you paused, “Last night, you said I should learn some Spanish… Why?”

Desperate for more interaction, that was your excuse. Jim responded with a shy chuckle. Certainly was worth it.

“I mean, we just met and you barely knew me…” you continued with a smile, “So…why?” As your question grew more confident, your inner desperation grew strong. Taking his last sip from the bottle, Jim surprised you by taking a step towards you:

“You really wanna know the truth?”

“Try me” , You replied, quickly finishing your own bottle, all without breaking away from his gaze.

And thank goodness you finished it. For you would have surely dropped it. Especially when Jim stood dangerously close to you, causing you to be immediately aware of the muscles between your thighs contracting. Even more so, when his irresistible eyes traveled from your very own all the way to your alcohol stained lips.

“Cause…” he purred, “…you have no fucking clue how sexy you sound”

You both may have chuckled to his line, but that did not mean your pulse did not quicken. Which increased in speed the moment his eyes took hold on yours once again. Seduction, he certainly was proficient in it. And you, were a witness. A witness who suffered from internal combustion of frustration.

You inhaled deep, “Really?” “Yeah…” he breathed in a sultry manner.

Just when you thought no force on earth could break this eye contact, the door burst open. Some men exited. Breaking away, you looked at your watch watch in an instant. You sighed. Real Life was calling you.

“I…I gotta go…” downcast, you muttered with guilt, “Class tomorrow…” adding extra guilt, you knew that excuse certainly did not put you in a good light.

“Lemme drop you then…”

Jim’s nonchalant and nonjudgmental reply urged you to look up with relief. Smiling in agreement, you watched him enter the bar with the empty bottles. And in that very moment, a tingling sensation filled with thrill washed over you, leaving no inch unattended. Butterflies returned to your stomach, fluttering harder than ever before in your life. Were you being hopeful? Could Jim Davis be desiring the same? Goosebumps traveled through you when that tingling sensation returned with much detail. Too much detail to be specific.

Until you realized it was real. And Jim’s hand was directly at fault here.

Blinking back to the present reality, your eyes caught the sight of Jim’s chilled fingers on your leg. They ran over over your inner exposed thigh in circular motion, thus, inciting the tingling sensation. Of course, no wonder the detail was accurate.

Yara and Chase were oblivious to all this, for they were caught up in their own love story as she kept yapping. But that was only the fact Jim kept on such a convincing focused face. He may be ‘listening’ to your friend, but his hand was evidently not. The longer his fingers lingered on your skin, the more you were reminded of him. And the more you began to tingle and sweat in the most unexpected places.

You were young, and unapologetically shameless. 6 months. It was exactly 6 whole months since you were last physically intimate with your boyfriend. And with studies piling up along with the expectation of a scholarship holding sophomore, ‘getting yourself off’ was never an option. Not with a roommate around.

The tingling sensation grew even stronger. And you began to hear your own quickening breath. Jim Davis’ elongated fingers, they spoke of pride. You longed for them to travel to locations far more adventurous and private than your thighs. Especially when they were rife with experience. Truthfully, it was a fact that his hands and his delicious lips and tongue were fluent in your body than your own self. Being pleasure deprived for too long, the mere thought of him ravishing you, aroused you even more. Aroused, and certainly very starved. The kind that food simply could not satisfy.

“...and under the stars…” Yara continued, holding on to Chase with lovestruck eyes, “…he told me he loved m-”

“Excuse me!”

Cutting her off, you cried out as you stood up in an instant.

“What’s up with you?” Chase inquired, whilst Yara looked offended.

“Just I gotta…pee…” you lied, eyes landing on Jim, “…now”

“Okay…” you heard Chase mutter in kind as you left the table, “…TMI, but whatever”

In all fairness, being judged was the least of your concerns. With every speedy step you took, the faster your heart began to beat. Storming into the empty ladies room, you found yourself staring at a mirror once again, with a heaving chest and noticeably flushed cheeks. It was plain to see, you were engulfed in the flames of pure arousal, and the fire needed to be put out.

And when the bathroom door opened up once again, you turned to find the fireman enter. Wearing a serious expression, it was slightly difficult to decipher his thoughts.

“I…” you struggled as Jim strode towards you, “I didn’t know what else to do-” Except he knew. When he attacked you with a passionate kiss.

Jumping into him was reflexive. Wrapping your legs around his waist seemed almost choreographed. Finally resting on the washroom sink, it was quite safe to admit how both of you were very much relieved to be the only occupants in the room. For there was no intention of holding back. Your denim skirt hiked high up, revealing your thighs in completion under the white fluorescent lights as Jim stood between your legs. And they were much cared for, as his hands gingerly rubbed them back and forth while his lips indulged yours with hunger.

“You think they know I lied?”

Breathless, you inquired with innocence. Except you did not receive an instant reply. Not when you found yourself gasping when he pulled your head back by your hair with a growl. With liberated access to your bare neck, Jim celebrated by placing equally starving kisses all over, resulting in your surprising moans.

“You think I fuckin’ care?” He chuckled into your skin, to which you could not help but chuckle back:

“Oh no, you bad boy” you purred in tease.

“Oh yeah, baby girl …” purring back, his reply incited a giggle out of you before he kissed you once again.

“Ay Papi*!” You breathed into his lips before he snatched up yours for good. Surroundings were simply irrelevant the moment the kiss turned intense, as his tongue crashed in like the rude boy he was, and grabbed onto your own tongue in a passionate embrace. They clashed against one another in frenzy, him claiming you as his. As the kiss grew deeper, your moans grew louder. When he pulled away all the sudden, whimpers left your lips with desperation. Teasing you so, Jim took a good look at you:

“¿Como esta tu Español?” He breathed low. And you were pleased that you actually understood.

   How’s your Spanish?  

Pressing himself against you, he began to slowly grind. You grew excited. Listening to Jim Davis speak Spanish was simply erotic in the first place. And since you have been studying it on your own for past few months, you were certainly impatient to show him.

“Yo…” you began, finding the words “…estudio pala-sorry…” with a nervous chuckle, you looked down, “..I know I suck-”

“No no…keep going” Jim insisted with a smile, bringing your chin up for a reassuring kiss, “Now say it again…” he added, maintaining eye contact with ferocity. Taking a deep breath, all the words clearly appeared in your head. Thus, you flashed a mischievous grin:

“…estudiando palabras…muy importantes”

   I am studying…very important words.  

Gasping was all you could do when Jim picked you up, carrying you into the nearest toilet booth. Thankfully with this restaurant being surprisingly hygienic, you did not mind. Life barely was embedded in your legs the moment he put you down, locking the door behind you to push you against it.

“Oh yeah?” He inquired, panting, “¿Cómo cuál?”

   Like what?  

Panting alongside him, you stood up straight, “Por ejemplo…”

   For example…  

Amidst his pants and his impressed expression, you grabbed his hands, placing them over your buttocks. All the while you looked at him with eyes, heavy with lust:

“¡Haz lo que quieras!”

You could not believe how confident you sounded. Smiling with equal lust in his eyes, Jim kissed you in approval, definitely pleased with what he just heard:

   (Do) whatever you want!  

Growling with effect, his animalistic nature was exuded as his hands gripped onto your buttocks with passion. His big, generous hands felt through every cheek with familiarity, as if they just reunited with a long lost friend. But that did not mean he forgot about all the other friends, the rest of your frame that had missed him as well. Moaning with pleasure, you began to unbutton his white shirt during in haste.

You simply adored his hands, for they were as passionate as his Spanish was. As he proceeded to hold on to your hips, your own hands roamed over his torso over his white vest. Except you froze the second his hands landed on your chest. Shaky breaths exited your lips as you shivered by his touch, for your breasts were at its most sensitivity even through your thin cardigan top. Palming them generously, Jim groaned into your lips:

“Fuck! I missed you, Guapa”

“I missed you more, Papi”

Confessing in return, you kissed him once more. Moans of desperation mixed into your kisses the moment his hands dipped inside your cardigan crop top, only to make direct contact with your untethered bosom. You winced involuntarily, even from his touch so gentle. Jim chuckled with seeming victory. And you were not afraid to admit, how you were simply in the palm of his hand.

Usually, during the peak pre-menstruation, you dared not let anyone come close to you, let alone touch you. But when it was Jim Davis, those rules halt by the door. He was a man who could maneuver his touch. However, he certainly was no good boy. Proceeding with his sweet torture during kisses, you were relieved to have a door to keep you balanced. For his long fingers, they flicked, encircled and pulled your now-sensitive nipples, keeping them fully erect and thoroughly visible even through the clothes.

Gripping his vest even tighter, you pressed your thighs together, for intense levels of pleasure and sensitivity crashed within you, akin to an avalanche. In truth, it simply was an overdose, and you could not handle. You were a mere animal trapped in this cage of frustration. But like an animal, you managed to set yourself free. You pushed Jim back with such force, that he ended up sitting on the closed toilet seat behind him. A surprised expression adorned his face when you straddled him in the process. Peeling your cardigan off your torso, you hinted your need for him. Which immediately was motivation for him to unbuckle his pants. However, his eyes did not fail to leave your sight while he did. For his eyes revealed nothing but pure amazement and hunger. He inhaled deep:

“Fuck!” He uttered, while his hand dipped into his hardened manhood.

“Yeah, that’s right Papi…” you breathed, maintaining the ironclad gaze. All the while you permitted his hand to feel the intense dampness of your opening, “Fuck me!”

And thus, public decency went flying out the window the moment the lovers fully united. The manner in which his hands rested on your bare back; whilst you moved upwards and downwards in syncopation to his thrusts, it drove you wild. The manner in which his generous and erect shaft felt so familiar inside of your tight walls, was too intoxicating as always. His mutual desperation and hunger translated well, as his lips savored on your swollen and sensitive bosom as if they were treasured food rations. Tingles were divided into million branches, impacting every form of stimuli in your system. But even in the midst of these endless waves of pleasure, that certain question from Chase yet lingered in your mind:

  “And?…that’s it? You both meet at a bar one night and…then sparks flew?” “Absolutely!”  

For in truth, it was not just a night of drinking and playful flirting that caused this relationship to blossom. And just like that, You could not help but recall further.

And peek into the moment that remained stored in the deepest corner of your mind. In the form of a secret.

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

With arms folded, you kept on waiting. Long enough for the chill outside to grow stronger. Long enough for you to begin pacing nervously. Even long enough for several men to exit the bar during. Given its cabin exterior, it became more and more evident that this was more of an old fashioned bar. You sighed. Jim was certainly taking a little bit too long inside.

Paranoia knocked on your heart’s door, forcing you to welcome it inside with reluctance. Thus, several questions began to occupy your thinking space. Was there trouble inside? A possible Bar Fight? You shook your head, for you were surely being delusional. Or worse, was this a part of his plan all along? The player type to ditch you for someone else? Perhaps with someone better looking that he just met. Envy formed in your heart towards a woman that possibly may not even exist. Your stomach turned in a merciless fashion. When the door opened again, a surge of hope grew in you. Could it finally be Jim?

Except it was not.

“Baby! You still around huh?”

Fabio said, in a pleased tone, exiting the bar. Clicking your tongue in an involuntary fashion, you turned away with frustration. For he was the last person you hoped to lay eyes upon.

“Hey-Wha-What’s the matter?” Fabio cried, “Can’t look at a friend?” Whilst he tapped you on the shoulder repeatedly. Alcohol was strong in his presence. And the fact he stood uncomfortably close certainly turned your stomach even more.

“Well, technically you’re not my friend” With a forced smile, you turned to him, “You’re Ray’s friend, OKAY? ” a snappy tone exited your lips. And for a split second, there was genuine offense painted in Fabio’s face.

“Just tryna be nice, jeez!” He muttered low, with arms lifted. Coming one’s senses, you finally drew in deep breath while letting your arms loose.

“I…I’m sorry, dude”  you said, in a soft tone, staring the droopy eyed young man. Being Cindy’s friend, your last intention was to cause friction Ray and his friends. Your tone seemed to have been convincing enough, for Fabio flashed a soft smile in return:

“It’s okay…” he replied, to which you were relieved.

But that relief was short lived. Especially when Fabio leaned forward with puckered up lips in an instant, forcing you to gasp.

“What the hell, man?” You inquired, pushing him back with aggression.

“Ah come on, baby…” he drawled, chuckling in a playful manner, “Just one kiss…I mean, look at you! You still waiting out here. For who? I know… you really came here for me” with open arms, he went in for an embrace. Scoffing, you pushed him back again. That was when your pulse quickened again. To the point you hoped to flee.

“That’s it! I’m leaving! ”

You snapped, darting away from the entrance. The concern of leaving Jim behind or finding a cab did not seem problematic anymore, for all you needed was to get away. However, a painful cry left your lips when you felt your hair being pulled back. Your eyes widened. It was an angry Fabio.

“Ugh! Why you being such a Puta* right now, huh?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you closer “Oh wait I forgot…” he snickered, “….you don’t understand Spanish, right bitch?” turning you to him. The alcohol had certainly rendered him more maniacal than ever.

“Don’t’ be a jerk, Fabio…” You cried, as you began to swing desperate punches towards his direction. But your defenses were lowered and moot, the moment he grabbed you tight by the wrists. You gasped, “..let… me… go! HELP! ”.

However, despite your cries, no one came to your aid.

This feeling, certainly was the ‘stuff of nightmares’. This feeling, had haunted you every now and again in imagination. To have it form into reality, was worse. No matter the force you exerted to free yourself, it seemed moot. For Fabio had the upper hand with his strength. And you were overpowered with intimidation. With the heartbeat increased in record speed, your heart was on the verge of exploding with fear. For the first time, you feared for your life. You despised the fact there was no one around, the fact this bar was on the outskirts. Almost close to tears, You heavily despised the fact you may be getting hurt in more ways than one tonight.

Until you heard a bottle shatter. Loud.

Glass fragments dripped from Fabio’s head as he cried out with immense pain. His grip on you loosened before he dropped down to the ground. Only for you to find Jim Davis standing behind him, with with a bottle broken in hand, and sheer rage in his eyes.

Rolling over, Fabio caught the sight of the man, “Jim??” He groaned, “What the hell, man? Why you helping this bitch-ARGH!”

A kick in the stomach was Jim’s choice in response, which incited more cries from the fool.

“THE FUCK YOU TOUCH HER FOR, HUH?” Jim yelled, his loud voice piercing through the tension like high pressured flames. However, the question seemed rhetoric, when he continued to kick Fabio, aggression growing more and more evident, “FUCKING…ASS…HOLE!” With tightened fists, he enunciated with each kick, “MOTHERFUCKE-”

“JIM!!!!”

You cried in an instant. And that very moment was when he finally froze. That fateful moment, you watched his face change, for his expression was clear as day. As if a wave of realization washed over him. As if bitter reality surprised him with a sucker punch.

All the while he stared down at his finished product: Fabio. He watched the the young man groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; all the while a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head and his mouth, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement.

Which was transparent enough for you, the witness.

You regretted being frozen with shock. If it only was for you to control. Thankfully a shred of it reached when you finally mustered the strength to call for him out from a potential murder. Violence, Danger, your trembling heart sensed it all. All from Jim. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, despite your shock, never did you flinch. Never did your heart consider retracting from him or running away.

On the contrary, you were compelled to trust him even further. Especially when you sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go…”

You found yourself uttering those words, as you took his hand in urgency. Pulling him with haste, you both fled from the scene. Adrenaline coursing through the veins whilst running away, leaving a wounded man laying in his own mess before anyone could find out.

You remembered how Jim drove. Quiet, but focused. He drove and drove, until the bar disappeared from your sight. He drove to the point you both found yourselves ending up at a remote beach. And finally, time had returned to its normal pace once again.

Calming sounds of the ocean waves filled your ears, while the sight of the foamy waters barely were visible in the darkness. You watched Jim slowly take his hands from the wheel, rubbing his face. Your eyes widened, when you noticed his hand bleeding slightly. Perhaps from the broken bottle. You longed to speak, however no voice was present. Pushing the seat back, Jim slowly crawled over to the back of the car. Silence overpowered for too long, which urged you to clear your throat and speak:

“A…Are you ok-”

“You’re right, you know…”

You paused, upon hearing Jim’s interruption. Looking back from the front passenger seat, you found light finally shining on his face. Much to your sadness, cracks formed in your heart by the sight of his expression. Especially when silent tears streamed down his chiseled face. As if his mask of bravery was stripped away. Or even melted.

“You’re right…shit’s been crazy over there…” he chuckled with sadness, “…worse, shit’s crazy over here too…” he said, pointing at his own head.

Joining him in the backseat, you took the bandana off your head without hesitation.

“The thing’s I’ve seen…” he continued in mid-whisper, “The shit I had to do. The shit I wanted to do. It’s fucked up…so fucked up”.

It was unfathomable. Witnessing emotions of Jim Davis on variant scale in one single night, including him unveiling his vulnerability, you did not know where to begin processing. Simultaneously, those cracks in your heart, they could not help but form deeper to the point you ached inside. For a second, you were filled with an overwhelming desire for this misery in his heart to disappear. You longed for him to smile again. You froze. Were you tasting a slice of pure affection? Perhaps even, love? For him?

“It’s too fucked up…I’M fucked up-”

“Hey…hey…”

Your voice cracked when you finally began, leaning towards him, “Shhhh…It’s okay…” you said in comfort, while rubbing his forearm, “…its okay…I’m here” you said, as you occupied yourself with tending to his bleeding hand as a coping mechanism. The bleeding that he did not even notice.

With his hand on yours, the heart did feel heavier in comparison. As if his hand was magnetically powerful enough to keep you nearby. Thus, forming an attraction. Not the type that stirred the loins, but merely the kind that longed for you to wail on behalf of him. The kind to carry the pain for him. As if you did not wish to carry on another minute of your life, without knowing he would be well. And you would be lying if you did not want to show him that.

Your trembling hand reached out for his surprised face, turning it towards you with patience. The deep breath you took, it occupied your lungs in completion. Butterflies exploded in your stomach , causing a riot before you moved close. Close enough to feel his breath on your face. And close enough to press your lips on both his cheeks.

You tasted his salty tears, that stained his face. Pressing your own lips together, you hoped you could share his pain this way. Your eyes were smart, urging your voice to take a breather, whilst they gazed at his lips. Those lips that turned you greedy the moment you saw first laid eyes on them. And his trembling breaths of despair were enough for you to finally dispose of any form of hesitation.

For you finally moved to kiss him ever so gently on the lips.

With your kiss, you were there for him, in spite of it all. In spite of the violence and the tears. And the moment you instantly felt Jim kiss you back, you knew you were hopelessly his.

All the sudden, a dose of sweetness was infused with the salty kisses, weakening the flavor of the beer that lingered in his mouth. Selfishly, the need for comfort vanished. For all you needed was him. In every possible manner. Safe to say, Jim wholeheartedly agreed.

A sudden injection of passion entered your systems, setting your bodies in its entirety, in flames. Which also included the loins. Powerful enough for you to straddle him, powerful enough for Jim to flip you down to hover over you. And certainly powerful enough for the both of you to make love.

You treasured it all. The manner in which his fingers were precise, hooking on to your panties to gingerly peel them out of your frame. The manner in which his eyes gazed upon your own, then traveling all the way south to take in the sight of your now exposed opening, that dripped with wetness, blushing in its own means and begging him to explore it. Thus, it was to be expected, when you welcomed him inside you effortlessly. As if it had waited for him all your life.

Even for the first time, Jim was fast, and was rough. Yet surprisingly, you did not care. You knew where it originated. And it seemed most apt.

While he moved in body, he fled in heart. Away from the horrors, away from the pain. This resulted from his need for a distraction. Amidst the syncopated moans that filled the car, you cupped his face. Looking right into his hazel orbs, you witnessed his need. His need for a distraction. And at the peak of climax, you witnessed his desperation. His desperation, that urged you to never him go.

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

         (Present)      

“I failed the test…”

Jim uttered low, capturing your attention. With your face buried in his neck, you heard it louder than ever. Tilting your head, you sat up straight to face him, confusion taking over. After reaching climax following a session of passionate and exciting love-making in a restaurant toilet booth, there you both were in recovery. Never did you expect him to break the silence with a statement such as this.

“What do you mean?” You inquired in a half whisper.

“The Psych test…” Jim elaborated, while you proceeded to put your cardigan top back on,  “…for the LAPD gig” sighing, he was downcast “I failed that shit…”

“No….” You breathed. The disappoint that was rife in his tone, somehow pierced through your heart. Thus, ushering in a wave of sadness that came crashing in, “Baby, I’m so sorry…” you said as you embraced him tight. To your surprise, Jim held you tightly in his arms in return. For when he buried his face on the crook of your neck and remained in silence for a mere few seconds, it was evident that was what he was required of. A rush of butteries attacked as you gently cupped his face.  You loved this man, and your heart was the witness.

“Fuck the cops if the they can’t relate” you said through gritted teeth, before kissing both his cheeks, “Fuck ‘em! Cause something better is comin’ ” you added with a soft smile, while your thumb ran over his upper lip, “We just gotta ...keep our heads straight”

To your relief, Jim seemed amused, “Speaking from experience?”

You smiled with pride, “You could say that…”

Both of you chuckled. “The point is…” you continued with a deep sigh, and huge smile, “I’m glad you’re back for good, baby”

Except for his own smile, it vanished right then. And in turn, his eyes watered and they shone, reflecting nothing but desperation and vulnerability. You took pride in being the one to witness it, just as you did that fateful night a few months back. Stroking your head with both hands, his forehead gently touched yours:

“¡Eres mia!” He breathed deep.

   You’re mine!  

How dare he? Expanding with immense warmth and impatience, it did not take long for your heart to gain rapid pace, as it was your very first time.

“¡Si, para siempre!”  You answered with confidence. For it was simply the truth.

   Yes, Forever! 

——————————————————

Index

UCLA : The University of California, Los Angeles Salud: Spanish term for “Cheers!” Guapa: Spanish term for Beautiful, Gorgeous Taquitos: A Mexican Food Dish Pisto: Mexican slang. A general term for an alcoholic beverage (usually beer) USC: University of Southern California Fallujah: A city in Iraq Papi: Spanish Term for Daddy Puta: Derogatory Spanish term for bitch, whore

Tagged: @tammykelly​ @ladyerina​ @kittenlittle24 @everyday-imfangirling​​ @lucy-roo​​ @works-of-fanfiction​​ @bale-is-a-babe @badsext​​  @maddistyles17 @truly-insatiable @gooseyhouse​​ @artsymaddie​​ @quarterback-5 @mamooska8 @jensen-impala​​ @lilyofthesword​​ @woodencupcake​​ @fonduebitches @soullesstaco​​ @spicybellinger​​ @marvel-lously​​ @glitterypinkkitty​​ @danceyreagan​​ @barikawho​​  @lostgirl0020 @diogodxlot​​ @xxdearlybeloved​​ @shewearsprada​​ @lexiespeaks​

Lemme know if you wanna get tagged. If anyone want to be tagged in specific Bale! Character fics please do let me know. And if you wanna be removed from anything NOT BATMAN, please feel free to let me know. I understand completely.

Check My MASTERLIST for More :)

[meruz]

replying to some asks - lots of weird preachy art advice. just trying to cram every sophomore year art school lecture into my blog

ANON, PLEASE SEND ME A PICTURE OF THIS..........................

glad to hear it!!!! I always love to see sketches from other artists but somehow when I post mine I feel like it’s just...cheap? like its not ““Real content”““ LOL... but if even one person likes to see it thats all I need to hear

very interesting question, thank you for being specific because that makes it a lot easier to answer. This is going to kind of sound like what every other artist tells you but

1) Go to figure drawing classes/sessions! I know we’re in the middle of a pandemic right now but actually that might even make it easier to find because a lot of figure drawing sessions are being held online atm! Anyways, I cannot possibly overemphasize the importance or studying the human form from life. It’s something that artists spend their whole lives studying and still learn new things about. Nude figure sessions are far preferred over clothed ones especially for beginners but, really, any practice from life helps. Whenever you draw from observation, make sure to step back and really look at your model and then your drawing. What discrepancies do you see, what feels like its missing, where do you think you can improve, etc etc. developing a critical eye is crucial.

I think figure drawing classes are the best method by far but theres plenty of other ways to get the practice in. I do a lot of cafe drawing and drawing on public transport, personally. Drawing from life is vastly preferred over drawing from photo reference because the human body is a living thing and conveying it properly means understanding 3D space and gesture and movement, all things that are easier to perceive irl. A lot of artists draw from dance videos on youtube to at least get the idea of movement even if it’s ultimately from a 2D screen. Recently, I’ve been drawing a lot from rock climbing videos on youtube!

because they’re climbing you actually get a lot of interesting angles LOL... good study of pose-to-pose relationships too, actually..

2) Practice dynamically. If you can develop the eye to figure out where your drawings are lacking, you can practice with those weaknesses in mind. If you realize you don’t really understand the structure of a foot or the back of the head or the back when it’s arched, look up references and practice those things specifically. Sometimes it’s not in the specifics but the general - if you realize you have a hard time proportioning out the figure, draw guides for yourself and set goals to draw proportions before details. Stuff like that.

3) Box Trick. This is just the simplest way to get a set of guidelines down for perspective on the human body the same way you put down guidelines to figure out where the eyes sit on the head LOL.

but here’s something to keep in mind regardless: perspective is a game. You’re tricking the eye into thinking something is close or far when actually its just sitting on the same 2D plane as everything else. You can do the math and make all the guides you want but at the end of the day its either going to look convincing or its not. And being convincing is a lot less about being accurate and a lot more about confidently selling your point. So don’t sweat the calculations of proportions, make hands or heads or feet as big as you feel is right and trust your eye and your gut over your brain.

Hi, yeah sure go ahead! As long as you link+credit me, I don’t mind my work being used for non-profit purposes. Especially fanart like.. I don’t even own these characters LOL. Just, if you edit my art, please don’t use it to perpetuate like...hate speech or even edgy politics... unless they are edgy politics I have explicitly endorsed LOL. If you’re ever on the fence abt it feel free to ask, of course!

TYSSMMM yeah ideally I guess its just ? group therapy LOL? I feel like actually Ryuji, Akechi, and Haru are characters we see very rarely interact and when they do they seem very alienated by each other?? So I think it would actually be great for them to chat LOL they have a lot in common especially the fondness for direct action.

VERY NICE THINGS TO SAY TYSMMMMMMMMMM

I guess since I was old enough to hold a crayon? Doesn’t every kid draw? 

But if you mean when I started seriously drawing and trying to get better.. I guess I started carrying a sketchbook when I was 12-13 years old and I’m turning 25 in a couple days so it’s been 12-13 years about. I don’t believe that years have any huge bearing on art progress though. You can be drawing for 50 years without ever deepening or widening your skill set, if you stick to the same old patterns day in and day out. Similarly an artist who is proactive with learning new skills and targeting their weaknesses can improve in leaps and bounds in a matter of weeks.

The style I currently use for painting, I only really started using.... about 3 years ago? When I was a senior in college.

but i wouldn’t say I’ve “““mastered”““ it and I doubt I really ever will because I don’t think that’s the point... I’m constantly changing things depending on how I want a painting to look or the way I want it to feel... or how I feel on any given day LOL

the thing about art style is I don’t think it’s actually something you have to work on or “find”. An artist should change the way they draw depending on the subjects or techniques they want to explore. If I wanted to convey comedy, I’d draw characters differently from how I would if I wanted to portray drama. And if I wanted to focus on lighting I’d paint differently from how I would if I wanted to focus on the details of the human form. When I was drawing a lot of digimon fanart earlier this year I drew differently from how I’m drawing now while putting out a lot of persona 5 fanart LOL - even when the content is similar the characters have different gestures and different tone that I convey through any number of things, proportion, rendering, edge definition, color range, etc etc.

as you experiment with techniques and approaches undoubtedly there’ll be some you’re naturally better at or more interested in than others. and i think that���s what a person’s “art style” really is, the stuff that you gravitate to and come back to over and over even as you transform and explore.

not sure if that makes sense but.. that’s my two cents, anyway.

yea hit me uppp dude isellhotdogs@gmail.com lmk what you want and I’ll give you a quote

[shhhlikeme]

Nin’s Matchup!

(SFW + NSFW)

Matchup Profile: Sfw+nsfw matchup pretty pls! (1/5) Name: Nin>Female>5’4>Film & sfx/theatrical makeup freelancer>V athletic in MS-HS: ballet, was in volley ball, soccer &Basketball teams>Miss my prime days>Scared to start workout again b/c I’ll get lightheaded>If sum1 helps push me through initial fear, I’ll keep growing from there> Likes chilling in ballet stretch poses>paints, photographs&draws as hobby>draws a pic a day (mostly portraits)>writing a comic atm >Always plan contingencies.🦄

(2/5) >embarrassed of my loud laugh(it’s like Kuroo’s)>introvert>not afraid to lead a team tho> V shy & quiet most times>8/10 times, feels awk in public,like idk what i’m saying, but others told me I seem social>Once I’m comfy w/ u, i joke a lot(occasional mum jokes 2 annoy+Sassy dirty ones w/ S/O)>hides behind ppl who likes 2 talk, but not when they’re 2 loud>laughs @ mistakes/when embarrassed>Will stop mistreatment, even if I get in trouble>values communication&genuine discussions🦄

(3/5) Sings when home alone>competes @ Street Fighter tournaments, trains everyday 4 it>Sings “Hit Me W/ Your Best Shot” when fighting bosses in game&swears melodically when i lose>eats chips w/ chopsticks >make hats out of my cat fur when bored>Workahokic night🦉>likes 2 teach >full convos w/ my 🐱>LIVES in oversized hoodies & flip flops, regardless of weather>no pants@home!>Feels incompetent sometimes, but keep practicing 2 improve>Analytical fast learner>idk why ppl think i look innocent🦄

(4/5)>Forgets 2 speak eng when tired (Thai 1st lang.)>Headrubs 4 s/o every night b4 bed>will miss u but is bad@texting>yelps like puppy when I’m surprised>Unconventionally resourceful: Wire hangers’s fixes everything! >stress bakes & will gets pouty if it didn’t turn out well.>overwhelmed to water my 50+ 🌱 >Doodles on smt (always have a pen on me)when i feel socially anxious> 2 dance sober @ clubs> Wants a stable relationship where we work tgt like a team to bring out the best in one another🦄

(5/5) I like a s/o who is lovable, kind, genuine, mature, independent and caring, but can also joke & be silly with like best friends. NSFW: open 2 try new things>❤️restraints, blindfolds & sensual tickle sex (as lee+ler) but had always been too shy to share it with any1>occasionally self conscious of food baby+stretchmarks>🥰edging/teasing >has a thing 4 height differences (likes to feel smol lol!) & primal play.>Is a switch. I’m so sorry if it’s too much info! Thank you for doing this!🦄

————————————

A/N: HI LOVE @crushzone !!!! I SMILE WHEN I SEE YOU IN MY NOTIFS GIRL I WORKED HARD ON YOURS OF COURSE💖 But no matter whaaaat I’m going to be very authentic in my matchups bc they’re based on compatibility and therefore, without further ado, lemme introduce you to your NEW BAE:

————————————

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO 🦉

SFW:

so you’re a theatrical makeup artist.

Aight.

Mind if I offer you a word of advice? :

RUN

“DUDE THAT’S AMAZING IT LOOKS SO SICK!”

Startled by someone’s loud booming voice, you smudged the eyeliner you were applying to your actor’s face all over their forehead. Whipping around to see who had disrupted your work you were faced with a beautiful black and grey haired owl. A rather tall... and very attractive ‘beautiful black and grey haired owl.’

He started walking around the dressing room like he owned the place, touching everything.

“Excuse me, you don’t have a badge. You can’t be backstage—!”

“Pretty obvious don’t you think, Miss ________?”

You didn’t take his bait, refusing to give this stranger your name. Bokuto shrugged.

“Well since I don’t know your name I shall label thee—Miss HOT GIRL of the 9 Kingdoms!” He nudged the knight actor who was sitting in your makeup chair with his elbow. “Did I sound 15th century ish or what??” The owl turned to you expecting to be praised. “I had to meet the person who made the medieval vampire look so scary in the last act. But that guy with the lights didn’t tell me anything about you being so hot.”

You were speechless because he was hot too

But he shouldn’t be back here so you tried to shoo him out anyway

He allowed you to try to shove him out but he was way bigger than you so nice try sis

When he yawned while you panted because you weren’t able to budge him an inch....

Bokuto wagered that he would leave if you agreed to make him look like the Hulk with your makeup skills for a Halloween party he had to go to

You didn’t really want to because you were a professional and you had no idea who this owl was but because you had 15 minutes until the second act and you needed peace and quiet if you were going to finish your job!!! ....

( This boy was not peace NOR quiet )

You agreed.... but because you answered so fast Bokuto kicked it up one notch

Prince of pushing his luck (king is reserved for Shōyo‘s extra ass)

He pretended to allow you to push him out of the makeup room a few steps but before you closed the door he stuck his foot between the door so it couldn’t close.

Smiling, he peered back in, looking down at you:

“AND...... you have to agree to go on a date with me. Tomorrow night?”

“Ugh FINE!”

Bo removed his foot and let himself out with a bounce in his step.

SERIOUSLY WHO LET THIS MAN BACKSTAGE......

Needless to say, after a few dates, mans won you over like he wins EVERYONE over

It surprised you how comfortable you became with him but he just has that affect on people

***

In terms of your athletic relationship Bokuto does many things:

He pushes you to go to the gym with him for one

He signs the two of you up for impromptu Beginner 30-day challenges that you both must stick to

So every morning for 30-days straight he jumps on you in bed to wake you up:

“NIN BABY TIME TO HIT THE GYM. BABY NIN TIME TO GET IN SOME SEXY GYM SHORTS. MON BÉBÉ NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNN—“

“Kōtarō, please shut up.”

he doesn’t

He drags you there and eventually you get back into the swing of things.. killing it in the weight room with your supportive man cheering on your every rep!

You don’t even need him to wake you up during the second challenge!

Your volleyball player boyfriend also signs you up (without permission) for the neighborhood soccer team that Akaashi’s girlfriend is already on

You hated it at first because it was uncomfortable going back after not playing for so long but you soon realized that all the girls there were ex-athletes too and not stars

You formed amazing new girl friendships (especially with Akaashi’s gf) and double dates with them were one of your favourite nights of the week!

You owed that happiness in your life all to your Owl 🦉🥰

He and Akaashi came to every soccer game y’all had and you and the three of you went to all of Bokuto’s games, obviously

Btw you all were FITTTTTT OML

***

In addition...

You already know that your man finds your artistic talents insanely fascinating

On your first anniversary together Bokuto gifted you with a new paint set and new French stand:

Because he admires you Bokuto also tries to draw and paint seriously just like you

You stand over his shoulder and give him corrections and baby owl learns so fast it’s amazing

You two make ‘paint night’ a thing when you move in together and it’s always the most fun event!!!!

Bokuto CONSTANTLY and I mean CONSTANTLY asks for you to add him to the comic you’re writing but you say no because he wouldn’t fit in

He sulks but one day you surprise him by showing him that you drew a cute soaring black and gray owl in the background of almost every outdoor scene in your comic,

you pointed out that it was him

BOKUTOOOO WAS SOOOOO HAPPY

HE WAS SHOUTING FROM THE ROOFTOPS

He called Akaashi right away and almost cried tears of joy hahahahaha

***

Your contingent based lifestyle has saved your reckless boyfriend’s life and career many-a-times

It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

Also, it is important to mention that he is in LOVE with your laugh

Bby owl does anything to hear it and showers your face with kisses when you laugh to draw it out

He loves you so freaking much

When you don’t make sense and speak gibberish in public because your awkward side randomly comes out......your boyfriend loves to make fun of you:

“Huh? Nin, that wasn’t Japanese, that wasn’t Thai and that definitely wasn’t English. What planet is my adorable baby girl from, again? And how do I return her in exchange for a floating space car instead?!”

suh cute

All of Bokuto’s teammates really like you because you work in conjunction with Akaashi which means you actually have the magic ability to get Bokuto out of emo mode even faster than his best friend 🤯🤯🤯

When he’s at an away game in emo mode his teammates will literally FaceTime you and point their phone in his general direction

“Hey, Kōtarō!!!! Look, Nin’s on the phoneeee!”

Bby owl turns around slowly when he was sulking in the corner and when he sees you on the screen he’s running and jumping on whoever is holding your phone.”

“Kōtarō baby. You’re going to stop this emo mode right now. If not I won’t let you paint me nude like we discussed.”

mans was like: 😨😨😨😨🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

YEP the next second you see him hitting his best practice spikes and his teammate thanks you profusely

You do this several times until Kōtarō just knows to not go into emo mode anymore because you won’t be happy

A year into his professional volleyball career The Black Jackal’s coach sent a surprise fruit bouquet to your work one time:

With a note that read:

To Nin,

Thanks.

Thanks a lot.

Love,

The Team

***

I know you don’t really like people who are considered “too loud” and Bokuto is like...... “MEGA LOUD 🎙 “ but you and Akaashi work together to quiet your boy down as he gets older

He’s perfect

And you love him

***

OKAY THIS IS THE FUNNIEST day THING:

You know how you like standing up for people (even strangers) and stuff?

Well one day, you and Bokuto get caught on a show called WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

Where the two of you cussed out this cat-abusing actor on the show in a convincing scenario!

It was PRICELESS

Bokuto literally tells everyone that y’all are movie stars because of it 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

***

More in the relationship:

Bo is always singing with you 💞 when y’all make breakfast it becomes a national sport to sing at the top of your lungs!!

And when he sees you eat chips with chopsticks he’s pulling a Hinata “🤩🤩🤩” face .

He begs you to teach him how

So you try

......and try

..................and try

He can’t do it bruv 😞

You see bby Owl’s emo mode return for the first time in like a year when the chip shatters between his sticks again

This time, you have to enlist Akaashi as the FaceTime saviour and Keiji just tells him:

“Bokuto. You should prefer eating chips with your hands anyway. It gets to your mouth faster.”

cue Bo’s 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 face

........And all is well again

There’s more:

So you’re a workaholic?

Bokuto is fine with that. He just makes you promise that he gets to take you out on your lunch breaks a few times a week or whenever he can

He’s so sweet and your coworkers are BIG jealous of your relationship

Your man BEGSSSSS you to teach him Thai but you find it too hard so when he’s travelling on a long flight he spends the time learning the language on YouTube (and actually get decent at it) so that he can understand you when you’re sleepy😴🥺💕

When Bokuto surprises you by wishing you goodnight in Thai before he falls asleep (while you’re giving him head rubs), your heart explodes BECAUSE why is he the cutest thing in the world ?!?!?!

RELATIONSHIP COMMUNICATION:

You don’t text/you’re bad at texting? That’s fine, mainly because bby owl is so busy with volleyball anyway, but if you don’t text him back when he is feeling needy the boy will call you 20 times in a row

When you finally pick up, your heart is beating like thinking it’s an emergency

But he will answer saying:

“Oh, no emergency. I just want booty pics. Please, Nin babyyyyy?”

you’re like: 😑

ANOTHER CUTE THING YOUR MAN DOES?????

AIGHT:

It’s cringey but.......

When you’re at work all day doing makeup and he’s home he will send you pics throughout the day of him taking care of your plants like they are y’alls newborn children:

His text:

Baby look!!! Ollie the Orchid grew to 7 inches today!!! Yesterday he was 6.8 inches!!!!! They grow up so fast 😭😭😭”

Your reply:

Not quite as long as your dick, Bo

His reply:

I hate when you get me horny when I’m trying to take care of the kiiiids 😭😭😭😭

Dkm

Of all the factors you look for in a man, Bokuto has all of them

Like I said he becomes much more mature when you and Akaashi are his closest compadres

What people don’t know is that Kōtarō is actually very mature he is just a hardcore optomist (besides emo mode lmao) so people often mistake him as immature or dumb

But He’s far from it and you see that everyday

It’s why you fell for him

When dealing with serious issues that life has to handle, you see a different side of Bokuto, a real side, the side he shows in every tough volleyball game when he makes you metaphorically step behind him so he can deal with any problem that comes your way

He would literally withstand all your battles if that meant you’d remain happy forever

We stan a relationship like yours💞

NSFW:

okay so you know how you chill in ballet 🩰 stretches sometimes?

THAT DRIVES KŌTARŌ WILD.

It turns him on so much and he is constantly testing how flexible you are in the bedroom

When you keep meeting his expectations he is POUNDING you cause he is so turned on

He fucking loves it

It also turns him on when you’ll be acting shy and stuff but then randomly you’ll lead your neighbourhood soccer team like a BAD BITCH

When he sees that he’s already asking Akaashi how long until the game ends because he’s horny:

Akaashi deadpans. “Too much information. And the game just started 3 minutes ago. Get a water and calm yourself.”

Bo is sad but it makes for one hell of a I’m-proud-of-you sexscape when you get home from your game!!

Your dirty jokes also turn Bokuto on.

A lot.

A lot a lot:

“Bo.....I was joking.”

“I know but if I hear the word ‘dick’ coming out of your mouth I automatically think of you blowing me so now I want us to go home.” He whines.

You sigh. He’s lucky he’s so fucking hot.

When you’re playing street fighter every night this boy will not leave you alone until you cockwarm him

“Nin can you pleaseeeeee warm my cock while you train? I miss you.”

Your concentration turns him on so he has to ask nicely 😊

You love his dick so of course you oblige

Bby owl is so happy just sitting there being in your company and in your warmth but sometimes or every time he ends up thrusting into you

Sometimes while he’s giving you deep slow thrusts he orders you to keep playing or he won’t get you off

Damn 🤤

Let’s not forget also that you drive your man wild by walking around the house in hoodies all the time and nothing else

Every day, another hoodie will be found in various RANDOM places in the house because Bo flings it off you before he makes love to you wherever, and they go missing

Finally, when you get all sad and pouty because one of your baker trials goes to shit (ruined chocolate brownies this time, boo 💔), your boyfriend is taking your hand gently in an instant, leading you to the bedroom:

“Don’t be sad my beautiful girl, you know how much I hate seeing you sad. It makes me sad.! Here, come in the room and sit on my face—I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

WELL DAMN—😳💦

Maybe you should screw up brownie recipes more often.

————————————

A/N: do you know the show what would you do??? Watch it on YouTube if you haven’t haha I couldn’t stop thinking about you and Bokuto being on it after reading your matchup profile!!!! I hope you liked it bb! Give me all your reactions, I want all the smoke 💞💞💞

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

So here’s a thing that happened, tumblr.

Many moons ago, I was in the Neuro ICU for a while. I was actually in there twice--for a week at first, then out, then in again for about two weeks. In between: “Nothing’s wrong! It’s resolved!” As you might imagine, given the spoiler there about how I went to the Neuro ICU twice: in fact, Something was wrong, and it was not resolved (then).

(it is resolved now, thank you)

This post is not actually ABOUT that, but we must start there, out of order.

This is a post about art and rivers and boys in cars. But we start in the Neuro ICU.

I don’t like talking about this time in my life. I would have been skittish and mysterious ANYWAY--I was raised like that--but I’m extra skittish and vague about my timeline because I don’t want to talk about it, you know? I survived something I had no business surviving. I had to relearn how to walk. That took months and that was the easy part. Because I am a big tiddy goth girl, and because I was very young then, people love to assume that the problem was drugs, and I did it to myself, as if that somehow makes anything less tragic.

I was 23 years old with a brain bleed due to a congenital defect, and even at the time, I had to defend myself: no, I’m not on drugs, I don’t do drugs, I didn’t do coke, I’ve never done coke.

I am also Colombian, which, I suppose, might play into their calculus about the coke, but WHO KNOWS. I was busy gibbering and almost dying at the time, which left little energy for noticing potential microaggressions.

Is it a microaggression, I guess, when you’re dying? Who knows.

I have never even been drunk, tumblr. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t snort. I never have. This is mostly because I’m a paranoid loon with an off again, on again anorexia, ya know, thing, so occasionally I get really hung up on irrational concepts of bodily purity. People think it’s a flex when I try to explain this, that I’m relishing in some kind of moral superiority. I’m not. I admitting to SEVERAL defects (“quirks”) of personality there. The eating disorder. The deep distrust: I will not be vulnerable in the presence of others, I will not dull my senses, I will not allow myself to be weak. A certain perfectionism. A certain tendency towards slow burn self harm. Grand ideas made of nothing that sometimes take hold.

My point is that this big disruptive thing happened.

I survived, which is AWESOME. And yeah, I had to relearn how to walk, and some other things, but you guys know that I do yoga and aerial silks and lyra and ran off to Thailand to train kickboxing for a summer on fighter street and I STILL do not shut the fuck up about it.

So, cool, cool cool cool cool.

And I don’t even want to talk about that part, the medical drama, the body horror, the institutional whatever. My neurosurgeon was fantastic and like a week after my discharge I was high as SHIT on prescribed painkillers my caregivers insisted I take and wrote him a gushing effusive letter about how he was MY HERO because I was ALIVE and anyway that basically makes you BATMAN, DOCTOR LEWIS, I FUCKING LOVE BATMAN.

Again: high as fuck, ok.

 My point is: I hate talking about this.

Because once you’re a survivor in people’s minds, that’s all you are. You are reduced to this one event that had very little to do with you. You are defined by this thing that happened to you.

And this isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened TO me! But still. Happened TO me. Not something I did. Not my action. Barely even my reaction.

But again, personality flaws. What does it say about me that I look at social norms about comfort and inwardly I snarl that I want no one’s pity?

Except I’m not actually that mean. I don’t snarl.

I just withdraw.

This is a tactic that has served me well in life a BUNCH of times. Is it always the answer? No. Is it often worth a shot? Listen. Yeah. Yeah, it is. Sometimes you flee an abusive home life because that’s the only option, and you don’t want to die. Hypothetically speaking: sometimes all you can do is run.

But sometimes you flee people with mostly good intentions, maybe.

This is all very high minded but what’s prompting me to write this isn’t exactly the upcoming (many year) anniversary of the event. It’s something way more mundane and dumb.

I have not logged into my facebook account since this happened. I never bothered deleting the account(s), either. I presume they still exist. I have no idea HOW to log back onto them, and, more importantly, no desire.

“So what?”

So, okay, back when I had my first stint in the Neuro ICU? Like, totally out of nowhere, I just disappeared from people’s feeds. (you all know I do this) Somehow part of the story got out and SOMEHOW, I have no idea how, a small group of my friends managed to independently track down the hospital I was at. And this is on next to no info, across state lines, like--I have no idea how the fuck they did it.

I also don’t fucking know who they were.

I was told, at the time. I have a vague idea of who two out of (I think) four were, or might have been. I was kind of busy at the time, with the dying.

And when I say I don’t like talking about this time: I don’t like even THINKING about it. I avoid it.

Fleeing. See?

So I don’t have a memory of the names. I don’t have memories of the memory.

“So what?”

So, I know from groups other than this one, groups less dedicated than this one, that people actually get REALLY fucking mad at you for not accepting their get better soon wishes. And like, I get it! You were very worried and I did nothing to reassure you.

I WAS BUSY.

I was busy dying. Almost dying. Not dying. I was busy sleeping 20 hrs a day. I was busy being unable to walk. I was busy re-learning to walk. I was busy relearning how to write with pen and paper and for months I COULD NOT DO IT, do you have any idea how that feels to someone who is and has always been and has always wanted to be a writer? Fuck it. Fuck you.

The initial disappearance. I am not to blame.

But then doing nothing to reach out to anybody for YEARS and YEARS--

Okay, maybe a dick move on my part.

“So what?”

So I think one of the people who managed to track me down in the hospital was my best friend from high school, a terribly sweet Brazilian boy who mostly called me not by my name, but simply: The Devil.

I dig it. Always did.

And it’s high school, right. Everybody is thirsty as fuck for their friends, one way or another. We never dated--we were both always dating or pursuing other people--but we had the typical high school bestie unresolved romantic tension deal going on.

This is important so remember it for later: the problem was not attraction. The problem was not one sided unresolved sexual tension. I had a particular thing for how he looked while driving, shades on, one arm slung over the wheel in that terribly and typically male lounging driving pose that’s probably a safety hazard.

We spent a lot of time in his car.

I didn’t drive, at the time, because my mother didn’t allow me to learn, and I got kicked out of my house and disowned when I was 17. This dude spent a LOT of time driving me places. Boys in cars is practically a genre of erotic poetry, thanks to Richard Siken. This is because boys look Cool driving cars, wearing sunglasses, pretending they’re not paying attention to you while you know they are.

So he was fun.

More importantly, I guess, the fact that he picked my ass up at like 6 AM over and over and over again for a big chunk of my senior year is one of the few reasons I managed to graduate despite being technically homeless.

He was not a morning person. I am not a morning person. He did it anyway.

Why didn’t we date, I wondered, years later, for a fraction of a second, and then I forgot about it.

“SO WHAT?!”

So I’m grown up and happy and fulfilled and in a lovely long term relationship (remember! we’re buying a house!), so it’s not about “what if?” It’s that I’m happy and grown up and I write books sometimes.

But there it is.

I write books sometimes.

Artists are constantly stealing ideas from everywhere and this is good. Artists also steal from themselves, grubby little hands on secret parts of our hearts.

So I’m writing this book, right. My Great Work. My Break Out Novel. My SERIOUS FUCKING BUSINESS book. My “this is the thing I’ve worked the hardest on in my whole entire LIFE” book.

And in this book there is a male love interest. He is a political statement. I’m writing him as sexy and heroic as possible. I want this to be the MOST attractive man I’ve ever written.

Latino. Sexy as fuck. Not a criminal. Overly responsible. Action ready, and terribly nurturing.

Hot Single Dad and Reluctant Necromancer is my masterpiece. A passionate statement and stance against the depiction of Latino men in media. A war cry to examine our own subconscious biases. A weapon raised against an unjust system.

I stole parts of him from Frank Castle. I stole parts of him from Geralt. I stole (MANY) parts of him from this one IRL hot dad former Army Ranger guy, Mexican American with a tattoo on his arm of a jack o lantern one of his kids drew. I stole parts of him from this cute Marine in my DMs who gave me story advice about guns and gear. I stole parts of him from indigenous leaders from centuries ago, from the peoples he is descended from. I stole parts of him from every man I’ve met who worked in dog rescue. I stole parts of him from myself, hiding secret parts of my heart in the male character so that no one will know.

Lovely. All good so far.

I got like two whole drafts in before I was thumbing through some printed out pages, idly thinking: how funny that I don’t have any real life, personal to me models for this guy.

All my prior male love interests, you see, are based on someone. In the werewolf trilogy, they’re BOTH based on someone--different someones. The villain, too, is jokingly referred to as the “evil werewolf ex boyfriend” for a reason.

Everybody is someone.

So how funny, I thought, that necromancer hot dad lacks any references from my own--

OH, wait, fuck--

Overly responsible brown dude with sad dog eyes drives the female lead/occult specialist around while good naturedly complaining that she’s weird as shit.

Oh, damn.

And suddenly a bunch of teensy little backstory details made sense.

Cool.

“So what?”

Bonus round of self realization: my own understanding of this time in my life radically shifted, turning, lurching, sickly rotating on a new axis.

Why didn’t we date?

Somewhere between then and now, post ICU but pre novel writing time--

This one time I overheard somebody talking to somebody else and it had nothing to do with me but sight unseen, on the other side of the stacks in a used bookstore, one dude said to another: “you know that if you were lighter, you’d have a chance with her, right?”

How terrible, I thought, and I forgot about it.

Why didn’t we date?

Because my mother told me, when I was very young, that boys from Brazil were all very wild, and I should avoid them. And she told me this so early and so plainly that I never thought to question it. When I was older she took harder stances that I easily ignored because I knew they were wrong--don’t you dare bring a black boy into this house. You’re dating a Jew? I can’t believe you did this to me. What are you going to do next, kiss a girl?

WELL, Ma, as it turns out, I mean, not til college, but yes.

But the smaller, more mild statement was so much more insidious.

I wonder if he knew. I don’t think he did. I wonder if he figured it out later. I have no idea, because we were friends when we were still essentially children, and now we are grown. Not everybody thinks about this kind of thing, and I don’t blame them.

How much damage did I do?

Does it matter?

Does he know?

I know.

I know, now, that my rallying cry against a system’s unfairness is also a cry wrenched wetly from my own subconscious depths. YOUR biases against? Yes. But more accurately: my biases against.

“So what?”

So this kind of epiphany shit leaves you breathless about it and you wanna scream. You wanna SHARE it. You must infect others with this knowledge.

But you can’t out of nowhere foist this apology on someone. That’s selfish. That’s about redeeming yourself in your own eyes AND asking someone else to confront unpleasant emotions on your behalf, even though they’re the wronged party. Selfish. Tell me I’m not a bad person, baby. Tell me I never hurt you, not even a little. Forgive me if I did. Wade through this pile of astral shit for me just to make me feel better. Reassure me. Hurt yourself for me in the here and now.

So I’m not going to do that, obviously.

“So what?”

But there’s that other part of it, right? Not the apology. The surge of emotion. The realization that all those morning drives back then added up to something deep within me, something so foundational to my concept of care and maybe even the start of something like love--the knowledge that this person gently carved some ideals for you, so long ago, so subtly that you never questioned it, never even realized, because it felt so natural, because something about it is so inherently good and right.

Despite everything--despite society, propaganda, colonialism, the prejudice of my upbringing, my own unexamined complicity, ALL of it--

Despite everything, this person taught me something so deeply about love and the shape of it, something so foundational that I built all my art on it and didn’t even see the beams of it until halfway through my most ambitious and soul bearing undertaking.

This is how you care for another, went the lesson, and I wrote pragmatic actions over words romantic male leads all the way down.

This is what love might look like, and in my own life, ever ambitious, I chose a poet talented with words and actions and good fight choreography, because I think that’s sexy and dichotomies are mostly bullshit, or at least things that happen to other people.

But I didn’t learn what love looked like from my childhood home life, obviously. How could I?

Without you, though, without you and your mirror sunglasses at 6 AM and your exasperated teasing, devil, witch, bruja, without any of those, where would I have learned? How long would it take me, to find someone who would teach me a wholesome lesson?

I’m small and cute and predators love a victim with a lack of context. I give myself and my wit some credit, but what’s pattern recognition worth if you never get any good data points?

Deep lessons.

Again: this kind of epiphany makes you wanna scream. Who to infect, with all this new knowledge?

Maybe no one. Probably no one.

But maybe, just a little, you wonder--

How would that conversation even go?

Hey, so I wrote this book--no, it’s my fifth, not my first, but thanks--so I wrote this book, and there’s this character, right, and he’s--well, hahah, I mean, he’s not exactly--I just--funny story, really--no, god, no, you don’t have to read it--it’s just--he’s just--I mean, no, you, you’re just--forget it, actually, just--

Like, what the fuck is there to say?

“I couldn’t have written this without you.”

And

“Did you check on me? When you thought I was dead?”

and

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice, at the time, that I meant anything to you.”

or is it really

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize until now that you meant something to me.”

What to do with all this emotion? Or more accurately--like rivers carve out gorges, here is the shape of something that once was. This shape will always be here. Even without a single drop of water ever again: we see the river.

What to do with the shape of all this emotion?

I consult the great Richard Siken via a feat of bibliomancy. Advise me, O Oracle. The oracle is War of the Foxes (2015), turned over blindly in my hands, opened randomly to The Worm King’s Lullaby, pg 45, verse 1:

The holes in this story are not lamps, they are not wheels. I walked and walked, grew a beard so I could drag it in the dirt, into a forest that wasn’t there. I want to give you more but not everything. You don’t need everything.

This advice is too good. I close the book.

The advice does not tell me what to do, but it’s too good. The verse reaches into my chest and carves out my heart, slices it open. Inside my heart: pomegranate seeds. Tiny jewels, fit for a dragon, snacking on garnets and rubies, and the apple of Eden wasn’t an apple, because it was the desert, wasn’t it? It was a pomegranate. Something with scales, maybe snakes. The serpent, the devil.

What to do with all this love?

I swallow the pomegranate seeds. I buy myself some time. I want to give you more, but not everything. Do you need everything? I don’t know. I don’t have it to give to you, in any case. Does it matter?

Why are you doing this, me?

Because art is messy. Art is cutting yourself open over and over again. You clean up most of the mess, try to bottle the fluids and label them nicely or deliberately misleadingly, fit for someone else’s consumption, but either way, you’re bleeding.

Maybe this urge is bleed with me or maybe it is oh, you already did.

I swallow the seeds. I buy some time.

I’m not done yet. I’m not.

Maybe all this adds up to nothing.

Maybe if I do this right, it adds up to a lot.

Maybe if I do this right it will feel real, maybe what I want is to gift the shape of these rivers to somebody else, all emotionally intimately with strangers. This is a shape that love can be. This is a silhouette you may recognize.

Maybe that’s a tribute, or a tributary.

But it’s not about you, not really, so don’t get too big headed about it. This is about Art and something like Justice. Big things. This is a book about big things, about history and dogs, history and gods, crimes and lies, slaughter and slander.

Right, yeah.

An act of faith, an act of will.

I swallow the pomegranate seeds. I buy myself some time.

It’s not harvest season yet. Not yet, not now, not yet.

If not now, then when?

When it’s ready.

There is no ready. Perfection is an illusion.

Yeah, sure, but page count is REAL.

You’re evading. That’s another word for fleeing. Do you know that?

Yes. I do.

How long will you run?

Just a little bit more. Just a little. I promise.

[tokendisastergay]

Quarantine Diary, lovingly referred to as quarantime: (this is 100% for me to look back on and remember how i spend my time when left to my own devices, also hopefully so i am slightly productive in a day)

DAY ONE: I think I might lose my mind. This morning I got a new game for myself and spent a good portion of the day playing that. I also taught myself the beginning of Halloween from Rent on piano. At night I really started to lose it and watched a full lengtg documentary on foreign surrogacy. As of now I go back to school on the 31st

DAY TWO: I’m not sure I’ll survive for two weeks, but much less a whole month. School got pushed back to April 15th. Help me. I once again spelt an embarrassing amount of my day playing two separate games I’ve just started. I also taught myself most of Johnny Can’t Decide from Tick Tick Boom on piano, however since my wrist is broken and Jonathan Larson has abnormally long fingers some of the chords posed a minor challenge. It was also Saint Patrick’s day, so my dad put on Irish punk music for my baby brother (and us) and we made cabbage, fake corn beef because we’re vegetarian, and french fries because the store didn’t have potatoes in any other form.

DAY THREE: Having a sense of time is only a distant memory. I’m running low on lucky charms. My herbs did sprout this morning though so that was pretty thrilling. I taught the baby what noise the cow makes. Spoiler: it was moo. Me and my dad made veggie burgers, and then had our first tabletop game night in months. (We used to do it every thursday, but we’ve been way too busy for that recently).

DAY FOUR: I wasn’t sure if this belonged in yesterday’s or not but technically it was this morning because it was so late at night, but I officially got the first scene of the screenplay I’m currently writing done! I’m writing it specifically for a film festival for short films, and I only really have one *very long* scene left!! I woke up, and immediately took a nap because it was like 6. I cooked me and the baby breakfast and then composed a whole two measures for the score. Currently playing the “sit on the kitchen floor and fake sip unopened gatorade, and then say “ahhhh”” game. (after i wrote this I also went for a run, i ran a sub thirty minute three miles!)

DAY FIVE: animalcrossinganimalcrossinganimalcrossinganimalcrossing also I drew Cthulhu (I end every one of my sketchbooks with a Cthulhu, perhaps I will post my first Cthulhu vs most recent Cthulhu) I also ran way too aggressively yesterday because I am Sore.

DAY SIX:

very little change. Piano, animal crossing, etc. I did listen to A Chorus Line today; I got really into A Class Act, which is a show about Edward Kleban, the dude who wrote A Chous Line’s life. I remember listening to that in the car with my dad when I was really little, but then again I remember listening to Book of Mormon with him around then as well, so it probably wasn’t the best way to judge what the show was going to be like. (Fun fact my dad also took me to see Book of Mormon when I was 11!) But I also know my grandmother really likes it and so I just thought it’d be a little more Watch With Your Grandma Friendly. It was not. Not like,, super inappropriate just not what I was expecting

DAY SEVEN:

Again, I’ve learned I only have so many activities. I’m trying really hard to think of another idea for my screenplay, since there is absolutely no way for me to get enough middle aged people to film the one I was planning. I was also on call with my bf for four hours straight today so that was fun

DAY EIGHT:

Worst day by far. I didn’t do much of anything, and I feel really guilty about how little I got accomplished. That’s about it.

DAY NINE:

Got a lot accomplished!!! I organized my whole desk (which, for context towards the end I was getting to things from 2014, that’s how big of a job this was) I also started my vocab for one of my classes, and I set up my journal for next month! I thought I’d start using it a little more since I have nothing else to do, plus updating this every day has hopefully gotten me back into the habit of actually using something daily.

DAY TEN

Okay honestly it’s been a minute since I updated this so I don’t really remember what I did,, but I’ll use this day to define what I’ve been doing daily. I’m pretty sure I haven’t say yet, but I’ve been stretching every day. I used to be a very serious gymnast, but I got to the point where essentially I had to choose between attending public school, or continuing with gymnastics, and like the average parent of a twelve year old, my dad was not about to let me stop going to school for something I physically couldn’t keep doing past my mid twenties. But I really miss having any control over my body, so I’ve decided I’m commiting to trying to gain back a little flexibility. It drives me crazy, I do theater obviously and the fact I’m such a mediocre dancer now is not doing good things for my ego

DAY ELEVEN

DAY TWELVE

DAY THIRTEEN

DAY FOURTEEN

I ran pretty well today. Sub nine minute miles, not super speedy, but fast for me at least. I mean I ran two miles in close to 15 minutes, so if I can do that for another mile I’d PR my 5k time for sure. Other than that, I procrastinated my speech, but I did get a bit of it done tonight on call with my boyfriend

DAY FIFTEEN

The speech was really eating me up. In an effort to ignore it I blew through 200 pages worth of a book today. I had a call for my acting class from 5:30-8:30, and I’m kinda looking forward to some of the stuff we’re doing in there. I start school again tomorrow and I have never been so excited for school to start back up in my life (and I’m never particularly unhappy; I quite enjoy the first week of a new school year)

DAY SIXTEEN

So school was kinda a dud. The website couldn’t support every kid in the county trying to get on it at once so it just,,, didn’t work. I spent most of the day filming my speech and I’m superrrr proud of it (I love giving speeches with all my heart, I go so overboard when we get assigned them for school though, no one else put as much effort into theirs as I did)

DAY SEVENTEEN

I got all of my class work for the week done, except for one class that isn’t doing it the way the rest of mine are. Don’t really remember what else happened today

DAY ???: I got my last two lab reports done. Also it was easter, so we hid eggs for the baby and looked longingly at the Easter egg bread we made (half jewish half italian, an unfortunate combination during Passover) Got my three hour mandates boyfriend call in and we looked at early humans and what we evolved from. Turns out I hate looking at that shit and I think Lucy will never leave the realm of my mind

DAY ???: Not a super interesting one but a good one. I filmed a monologue for my long form improv class, and did it on my Fancy Filmmaking Camera, which was completely unnecessary but very fun. We did have to deal with some legal stuff that I both don’t feel comfortable sharing and don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable with. I had acting class, and that was absolutely it. Today my boyfriend and I talked about how shitty cops are, and his adventures in growing vegetables

[melodramaticfanatic-blog]

Lucky in Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: It’s safe to assume that all my stories are going to have at least a little NSFW, 18+ and language. Just how I write.

Summary: Y/N became friends with Chris Evans shortly before Captain America fame made him a superstar. Now they’ve been through a lot together but Chris has always wanted more A/N: For @troublermalik. Chris Evans one shot with fluff and some NSFW/smut. This got long (WAY TOO LONG for a one shot probably) because I kept working on it and then putting it on hold and then today hormones made me their bitch so I went in on it HARD (while crying over the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman, naturally.) so sorry or whatever. Oh, and I hate this title!! I tried like 3 and didn’t like any of them

Word count: 8575 roughly.

Gif not mine, credit to owner

Y/N breaking her tooth was the best thing that had ever happened to Chris Evans. It may have been painful for her and required an emergency visit to a dentist, but if she hadn’t slipped while bowling and managed to fall at exactly the wrong angle, they may never have met. 

It had happened 2 years ago. Y/N had been on a blind date, a set up through one of her friends, and the man took her to a cosmic bowling alley. The lanes were dark, disco balls and black lights flashing against neon paint as classic rock pumped out of the speakers. Although the idea for the evening was great and Y/N wanted to enjoy herself, the man who was accompanying her was the worst kind of date. He was overly competitive about the score, utterly uninterested in talking to her (not that he could have even if he wanted to with the volume of the music), and far too interested in her various body parts. 

All in all, when the laces of the rental shoes untied (something Y/N didn’t notice due to the dim lighting) and caused her to stumble onto the slippery wax lanes where she promptly fell on her face, it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. At least that was her immediate thought before she realized that she had chipped her tooth and the broken shard had injured her lip leaving her with a bloody mouth and damaged smile. She had bid a quick farewell to her date, promising to reschedule without any intention of actually following through on it, and left the lanes while searching google for the closest dentist’s office. That dentist just happened to be Dr. Robert Evans, who’s son Chris was lucky enough to be in the office visiting when Y/N arrived as he had just gotten home from filming his upcoming Marvel debut, “Captain America: The First Avenger”. Despite her bloody mouth and eventual slurred speech due to novocain, Chris and Y/N had hit it off immediately. 

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“You have no idea who you’re messing with.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at Chris and tried her best to look intimidating despite the fact that the man was several inches taller than her with the physique of a superhero...literally. 

“Bring it on Y/N,” Chris taunted back. 

“I’m warning you...”

“If you’re so confident, why not make this interesting?” he retorted with his characteristic easy charm. Despite his light tone there was an undercurrent of competitiveness to his words. Chris played to win at everything in life.

Y/N sized the man up and arched an eyebrow. “Name your terms.”

“If your skills are what you say they are-”

“They are,” she interjected.

“Well then, I’ll owe you a six pack of beer to drink while I wash your car. If, by some freak accident, I prove to be more talented in this particular arena than you are though...” Chris smirked at her for a moment as he thought about what he’d claim as a prize. Then his entire face lit up with mischievous delight. “You’ll be accompanying me to the upcoming Avengers red carpet premier.”

Y/N pursed her lips as she thought about the stipulations. She felt very confident in herself but if something did go wrong...she didn’t like the idea of going to a premier. She had been photographed several times while hanging out with Chris and her picture had even gotten into the tabloids. It was not the most pleasant experience in the world. Many of his fans knew about her; she was his best friend after all so he had mentioned her in interviews a few times. Most fans were very nice in regard to her relationship with Chris, they knew she dated other men and knew that Chris dated other women so they did not see her as a threat. Every time her picture appeared in a tabloid next to the Captain however, a new outcry would rise from the internet and she would be hit with waves of negative comments and anonymous hatred from obsessed fan girls. Going to a premier where there would be rows upon rows of journalists and photographers seemed like pushing her luck. 

“Scared Y/N?” Chris had his most dangerous smirk firmly in place, one side of his mouth lifted and his brow quirked. It was obvious to Y/N that he was teetering on the edge of laughter, ready to break out any second in the full body shaking peals that were never far from the surface. 

“Of you?” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “Never. I just feel bad that all the paparazzi are gonna be able to snap pictures of you washing my car. Maybe they’ll publish articles speculating about if you’re broke and working for me to make ends meet!”

His smirk just got wider. “Just remember, I like how you look in silver.”

“Thanks but I won’t need to know that. Now stand back in awe.”

Y/N pushed her hand against Chris’s chest lightly and the man took a step back chuckling, more likely to be kind than because the shove had any effect on him. She positioned her feet carefully, shoulder width apart and narrowed her eyes with focus. Her fingers tightened around the grip of the club in her hand and she drew her arms back slowly before swinging them out again in a gentle arc, knocking the bottom of the metal putter against the brightly colored ball on the ground. It connected with a pleasing knock and spun forward along the artificial grass.

“Go baby, go...” Y/N muttered under her breath as she tracked the ball’s progress. “Curve for me...!”

As though the ball could hear what she was asking of it, it swerved and began to ride along the ridge of a hill.

“Yes...yes...YES!” The ball found the perfect course trajectory and dropped into a small cup next to the large flag that marked the hole. “Hole in one! Fear my mini golf genius, Evans!”

Y/N jumped into the air and came down to rest on one knee, celebrating as if she were Tiger Woods and had just won the PGA cup. Chris couldn’t resist shaking with laughter at the display, his right hand coming up to grab his left pectoral as it always did when he laughed uncontrollably. 

“We’ve got a long course to play here, Y/N. Don’t get cocky on me now.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Y/N retorted with a serious air before her face turned wicked. “Being cocky is your job.”

Chris shook his head and positioned himself at the line between artificial grass and sidewalk. All around him, children and families were delighting in the amusements of the mini golf course: chasing balls that had escaped into water hazards, taking pictures with the fake dinosaurs that lined the Jurassic themed diversion, laughing and lamenting their poor luck as they came out of a hole that was only par 2 with more than 5 strokes. 

He and Y/N often ended up in strange contests like this as they were both competitive and had a fondness for sports...or at least sport like activities. They had done everything from beach volleyball to ultimate frisbee, usually with a small wager attached to the win. Most nights, Chris wanted to win because he liked to win. Tonight however, he wanted to win so that he could have Y/N on his arm at the upcoming premier. He had just broken up again with his on-again / off-again girlfriend and knew that showing up at the premier alone would only result in him being bored out of his mind most of the night. Y/N would absolutely prevent that; she was always fun to be around. 

“You going to shoot your shot Evans or have I intimidated you into quitting already?”

“Oh please, my skills are hotter than the fire coming from that very fake volcano.”

Y/N cocked her hip out slightly and braced her hand against it, striking the international pose of female confidence as her face resolved into an expression of exasperated incredulity. Chris tried not to focus on her, tempting as it was to ignore the game and spend his time watching Y/N and laughing in the unrestrained way she always caused. Instead, he trained his eyes on the blue ball he had picked out (a choice that Y/N had made some very uncouth remarks over) and concentrated on hitting it with enough force to find the cup but not the excessive amount that would cause it to skip right over the hole. With an apparent lack of effort, Chris managed to sink his shot in one as well. 

“Oooooh,” he chuckled and shook his head. “What’s Danny gonna say when you tell him you can’t go out for date night because you’ll be on my arm?”

“I don’t think he’ll be too upset,” Y/N deadpanned back. “After all, I’m sure he’ll be out with his new girlfriend that night.”

“You guys broke up?”

“Yeah, earlier this week.” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, mussing it up prettily as she led the way to the next patch of green. “He was too needy, ya know? Everything was always about him. Like, I’d get home from working a 10 hour shift and he’d be there asking me why I hadn’t made him dinner.” She shook her head in a frustrated way. “Who looks at me and thinks Stepford Wife?”

It’s definitely not the first thought I have, Chris mused silently. My first thought has always been...no, never mind. Better not to acknowledge that thought. 

“Wow, bad time of year for romance all around, I guess.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion, one eyebrow arched delicately. 

“Jenny and I broke up again too,” he clarified. 

“Dude, you know I love Jenny,” Y/N began, her shoulders slumping as she looked at her friend, “but I seriously do not understand how you do it. I get whiplash just watching your relationship from the outside. How do you even keep track of if you’re together or not?”

“Maybe that’s been the problem all along, Y/N. I was thinking we were together when she was thinking we weren’t...we’re just on the wrong schedule! You’ve solved it, Dr. Phil!”

“Don’t you sass me, Evans,” she said as she reached out to smack his large bicep playfully. “I’m not afraid to call your mother.”

“Ok, ok, I’m just teasing. Nah, Jenny is great...and when it works, it’s great. But...” he trailed off with a shrug. 

“But how often does it work? Like a rough percentage?”

“Maybe...10% of the time?”

Y/N looked back at him with her eyebrows raised, her face expectant as he thought over what he had just said. 

“Yeah, I get you. If it’s only working 10% of the time, the other 90% sucks.” 

She nodded at him, a hint of sadness in her face. “You deserve better than 90% suckage Chris.”

Chris knew that Y/N was serious whenever she called him by his first name. Most of the time she referred to him simply as Evans or by some new mocking nickname she had crowned him with. Despite their teasing banter, the two were very close and cared for each other deeply. He knew that she wanted to see him happy just as much as he wanted that for her. 

“I’m tired of the whole relationship thing at the moment,” Y/N continued. “It never seems like the people involved are on the same page. It’s never just relaxed and easy. Like this! The way that we are together.” Y/N reached out and laid her hand against Chris’s chest, stopping their progress along the course so that she could look him in the eyes. “Everything is always good between us. We can talk about anything, we can always have fun, we’re tend to agree on the big stuff and be on the same wavelength...why can’t real relationships work like this?”

Chris gave an easy shrug and shook his head, watching as Y/N turned to move on to the next hole. Real relationships. We could have a real relationship, he thought, we could have a great relationship, even better than what you just described. If only you felt the same.

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“HA! Hahahahahahaha,” Chris had burst into the kind of laughter that doubled him over in exaltation. It ripped out of his belly and shook every muscle in his well toned body as he gripped his pectoral with one hand, his other hand holding Y/N’s shoulder as an anchor. 

“Not fair! If I hadn’t messed up the 12th hole so badly, I could have won!”

Chris could only shake his head as he laughed. He hadn’t just beaten Y/N, he had destroyed her. 

“Seriously, I think there was like, water on that hole or something. There is no WAY it should have taken me over 8 strokes to make a par 2 hole. STOP LAUGHING YOU BIG JERK!” She whined in a voice of fake outrage. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Chris sighed as he finally caught his breath. “You’re my favorite thing in the whole world.”

“Ha! I’ll believe I rank in the top 10, Evans, but I’m not claiming the top spot with your nieces and nephews around. Hell, I’m pretty sure even Dodger comes ahead of me on that list,” she scoffed. “Which is fair as he is such a great dog.”

He just smiled back at her indulgently, trying not to let on how wrong she was. “Whatever you say babe. Now, about what you’ll be wearing to the premier-”

“UUGGGHH!!”

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“UUUGGGHH!!! GRRRR!!! ARRRGGGH!!!”

“You can moan all you want, girlfriend. You made the bet, you have to deal with the consequences.” Y/N’s roommate, Angie, said in her thick New York City accent as she stood outside the bedroom. Years of being away from the city had done nothing to change how she spoke. 

Y/N felt like she had been groaning and moaning ever since she had lost to Chris that night at the golf course. She would never go back on her word so she had gone out and gotten a great gown, silver as requested, and prepared for tonight with a pedicure, manicure and professionally done make up and hair, but none of it had done much to calm her nerves. As happy and relaxed as she always was with her best friend, the spotlight was not her comfort zone. She didn’t want to think about how the next few hours would be spent in front of hundreds of people and in the company of movie stars. Sure, Chris was a movie star...but he was also just Chris. Silly, puppy-dog, can’t stop laughing, dork, sweetest human being alive Chris. Hanging out with him was like snuggling in a giant sweater. He was all fluff and comfort. Tonight was going to be a whole different ball game. 

“Seriously Ange...I’m not saying that I won’t go, but seriously...what am I doing?!”

“I can’t believe you’re whining about this, Y/N,” Angie replied with a roll of her eyes. “You’re going to the premier of a huge Hollywood movie where you’ll be next to some of the hottest men in the known universe. Oh yeah, and you’ll be there as the date of one of those absolute hotties. What is there to complain about?”

“Don’t call Chris a hottie...it’s weird.”

“He is a hottie. I can’t change the facts, girl. The fact that you are somehow magically blind to his intense good looks doesn’t mean I am.”

Y/N looked at her roommate and frowned. She wasn’t immune to Chris’s good looks; you’d have to be 10 kinds of stupid not to notice that the man was handsome. It was more that she chose not to think about him that way. Keeping him solidly locked in her mind under the label of “Friend” made everything much simpler. 

“If you’re going to stand there and mock me, the least you could do is tell me how I look?”

Y/N gave a small spin for her roommate. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant style that she would never be able to replicate again, which complemented her sleek gown nicely. The structured bodice hugged her beautifully and pushed her chest up to put a decent amount of cleavage on display. Its straps lay off the shoulders, a delicate drape of fabric brushing against her upper arm, and the fabric continued in long swaths down the back of the gown, creating a train-like effect. The skirt itself had a small train, really just a puddle of fabric attached to the slim tube that was fitted to her legs. The whole gown fit like a dream, she hadn’t even needed alterations, which was the main reason she had picked this one. 

“You look amazing. You’ll fit right in. In fact, I’ll be surprised if you don’t come home with a date...if you get your choice of the men, go for Tom Hiddleston. I’ve seen him dance; I think you could make good use of the way those hips move.”

“Angie!” Y/N cried out in shock just as there was a knock on the door. 

“What? I’m human, girlfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N responded, brushing by her roommate. “You’re something alright.”

Quickly checking her hair in a mirror and smoothing her hands over the front of the dress, Y/N opened up the door. Chris was standing in the hallway and before she could put up her guard against it, Y/N was struck with exactly how amazing he looked. His dark hair had been gelled lightly and slicked into a dapper style that fit his bone structure perfectly. His beard was trimmed and neat and before Y/N could reign the thought in, she found herself wondering if it would tickle to be kissed by him with that beard. Damn Angie, putting thoughts into her head just before Chris arrived. The best part though was his suit. It was a bright cobalt blue that accentuated his eyes until they became hypnotic. The bright white of his shirt made a gorgeous contrast to the bright blue fabric and the black that lined the lapel of the jacket. 

“Well damn,” Chris said with a frown as his shoulders dipped.

“What? What’s wrong?” Y/N looked down at herself nervously. “Is the dress not good? Do I look terrible?”

“Not at all. It’s just that..” he trailed off with a shake of his head and looked down while she waited anxiously. “Well, I tried so hard and thought I looked pretty good tonight but now it’s not going to matter at all because no one is going to be able to look away from how beautiful you are, babe!”

“Don’t do that, Evans!” Y/N reached out and punched his shoulder as he looked up at her from under his lashes with a wicked smile.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he said with a chuckle. “Seriously though, Y/N. You look more incredibly beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen.”

“You can keep the compliments coming, I’m not forgiving you that quickly.”

“Since I have your permission, I think I’ll just keep complimenting you all night.”

“When are you just going to ask her out, Chris?” Angie called from inside the apartment. “I’m sick of you two doing this ‘We’re just really good friends and there’s no sexual tension between us’ thing.”

“Angie!” Y/N practically screamed. “I swear, if rent was not so obscenely ridiculous, I would kick you out and pretend we didn’t know each other.”

Chris laughed a bit awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“Alright, if you’re not going to jump on it, girlfriend, I’ll take this bullet. When are you going to ask me out?” Angie had come to the door and was looking at Chris with a cocky expression on her face.

“We’re leaving. Right now,” Y/N said, her tone dark. She gave Angie a small but forceful push back into the apartment, grabbed her clutch from the table near the door and proceeded to slam it behind her. “I cannot even. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into her tonight.”

“I hate to tell you but that was not a tonight only situation,” Chris said as he easily looped an arm around Y/N’s waist. “Your roommate has been flirting with me like that since the first time I met her.”

“And you never mentioned it?” Y/N looked up at Chris in confusion but he just gave a relaxed shrug. 

“She doesn’t actually mean anything by it. Trust me, if I took her up on it and asked her out, she would freeze up and then refuse.”

“And you know this because...?”

“Just one of those things.”

Y/N continued to look up at Chris, her brow furrowing and a small frown creasing her face. She didn’t like the sound of that. Had Chris asked Angie out? Had they actually gone out? As they walked out to the waiting town car, Y/N pondered the possibilities silently and tried to decide why the idea of her friend and her roommate having secrets or a relationship bothered her so much.

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Flashbulbs were everywhere. It was beyond blinding and if Chris hadn’t kept a steady hold on Y/N, she probably would have bumped into someone and fallen down. 

“They’ll calm down in a bit,” he whisper-shouted into her ear. “The only reason they’re taking so many pictures is cause we just got here. A little down the line, you’ll have no trouble seeing.”

“How can you see?!” she asked in a terrified voice.

“I’m just used to it.”

“I don’t understand how anyone could ever get used to this...” Y/N muttered.

Chris took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. He knew this wasn’t where she felt the most comfortable but he also wanted Y/N to enjoy herself. Premiers weren’t always great but if you let them, they could be a lot of fun. 

“Mr. Evans, we need you for a quick chat over here,” an assistant came bustling up to direct him to an interview. 

“Do you want to come with or hang back?”

Y/N looked at him with wide and wild eyes. “Hang back, definitely hang back.”

He laughed and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek for courage. “Stay right here, babe. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pressed down lightly on her shoulders as though he were sticking her in place and moved off to the microphone the assistant had pointed out. 

Y/N took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm herself. Chris had been right about the flashes calming down and now that some time had passed she was able to see a little better. In front of her were lines and lines of journalists and photographers, all calling out names and questions, but behind her there were bleachers full of fans. Many of them had signs and posters; some looked as though they had been camped out all day. Y/N turned slightly so that she could read some of the signs. 

“Hey, hey, Y/N!” someone called out to her. 

She looked around and spotted a fan at the barrier waving to her. “Umm...hi?”

“HI!! Sorry, this is probably totally creepy,” the girl said with a big smile. “I just feel like I know you from all the times Chris has talked about you.”

Y/N went a little closer to the girl. She was young and had obviously been waiting for a long time. Clutched in her arms was a canvas with all of the Avengers lovingly represented on it. One or two of the characters now bore a signature from the actor who played to role. 

“That’s really cool,” Y/N said pointing to it. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah!” Her face lit up as she held the canvas out for Y/N to inspect. “I want to be an artist when I grow up.”

“Do you mind?” Y/N reached out hesitantly and the girl placed it in her hands. It was incredible, each detail captured, every character given so much emotion. “You’re really talented.”

“Thanks! I was hoping to get everyone to sign it but...I couldn’t get a couple people’s attention. Do you think you could ask Mr. Evans if he’d sign it though?”

Y/N looked up at the girl and smiled. “Hold on to this,” she said, handing the canvas back. “I’ll make sure he comes over...or I’ll kick some Captain butt.” With a quick wink and smile, Y/N turned back to the front of the carpet and moved back to the space where Chris had left her. As if on cue, he finished his interview and returned to her. 

“Ready to keep going?”

“Not quite. I need two favors from you actually.”

Chris stared at Y/N, his eyebrows slightly raised. He could tell by her low and serious voice that she was being sincere. “What’s up?”

“Do you know who’s already inside?”

“Uh, yeah. I know that RDJ, Hemsworth, Mackie, Scarlett, Paul and Tom Holland have made it down the carpet...why?”

“Alright, she caught Rudd and Tom Holland. Do you have their phone numbers? RDJ, Hemsworth, Mackie and Scarlett, I mean?”

“Yeah...again, why?” Chris was beginning to look at Y/N like she had lost her mind. 

“’k, so favor number one: can you send a group text to those guys and the rest of the cast and ask them to make sure they sign this girl’s artwork?” Y/N jerked her head slightly to indicate where the fan stood. “She’s been here for a long time waiting and she made this incredible work of art to honor you all. It’d really mean a lot if everyone did this. If they could just come back out really quick?”

Chris was beaming at Y/N now, his phone already in his hand. He had been worried that she hated every bit of what was happening and it warmed his heart to see her caring so much about his fans.

“Done. Is favor number two that I go over and sign it right now?”

“Well...yeah.” Y/N gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sorry to be predictable.”

Chris wrapped his arm around her waist again, guiding her back towards the fan. “Trust me, babe. This is not an ‘’I’m sorry’ situation.”

Y/N smiled up at him brilliantly before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the young girl. “Look who’s here! And I didn’t even need to kick his butt. I just told him someone had a picture of his face and he couldn’t be stopped,” she said teasingly, looking between Chris and his fan. 

“It’s true,” Chris said with his trademark charming smirk. “I can’t resist beautiful things.”

Y/N laughed at him and shook her head, stepping back slightly so that his fans could have access to him. Watching him talk to everyone, sign posters and pose for pictures, she was reminded how lucky she was to have him in her life. His presence was something she had almost grown too accustomed to...almost taken for granted. 

“Hey Y/N,” said a low voice just behind her.

She turned to look over her shoulder and spotted Sebastian Stan standing at her side. She had met him several times before through Chris and had forgotten that as another Marvel actor he would be attending tonight. 

“Hey Seb, it slipped my mind that I’d be seeing you.” 

The man reached out and draped an easy arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “Ouch, didn’t realize I was so forgettable,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Don’t be stupid,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“He can’t help it, stupid is his default setting,” Anthony Mackie teased as he walked by on his way to sign the canvas.

Both Seb and Y/N laughed at the man, Seb miming a kick in his direction.

“So, did Chris bring you tonight?”

“Yup...I lost a bet.” Y/N hung her head in a comical display of shame. 

“Well you may have lost but I think we all won.”

She looked up at him with her head cocked to the side. 

“You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Oh,” Y/N blushed furiously, both at the nickname and the words preceding it. “Thanks...?”

Sebastian laughed at the way her word went up at the end, turning it into a question. 

“Hey Seabass!” Mackie called out. “Get over here and look at this. The girl managed to capture my magnificent thighs!”

With a smirk and a quick squeeze, Sebastian released his hold on Y/N’s shoulder. “Gotta go, Doll. Duty calls.” He shot her a wink and walked off to the line of fans, clapping Chris on the shoulder as they passed each other. 

“Alright, I’m thirsty,” Chris said as he reached her. “Ready to go inside?”

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“You didn’t tell me to make sure I had waterproof mascara on, you big jerk!” Y/N punched Chris’s shoulder again lightly, blinking her eyes rapidly and rubbing her hand along her cheek. The movie was fantastic, full of action and great one-liners like all Marvel movies, but it also had heart wrenching, terrible moments that had brought Y/N to the edge of sobbing. 

“I didn’t want to spoil anything,” he replied chuckling. “Besides, you look amazing.”

“I look puffy and red...and if I get a hold on Tom Holland tonight, I’m going to tear him apart for breaking me down like that!”

Chris was laughing in earnest now, his whole body rumbling. “That just means I have to spend the after party making sure you don’t get near him.”

“Good, you do that. Keep me at your side all night or I’m likely to hit one of your friends and cast mates for making me cry.”

“Alright, tough guy. Let’s go get a drink and enjoy the party, huh?”

“I can’t go in there yet!” Y/N looked at Chris in horror. “I have to go to the bathroom and take care of the trash panda mess that is my face! Get it together, Evans!”

She left him chuckling fondly as she strode off to check her makeup and gather herself. Hardly a minute had passed before Chris was joined by Sebastian, the man holding out a beer which Chris gladly accepted. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Seb asked casually. 

“Went to clean herself up. She got a little teary eyed during the screening.”

Sebastian nodded and took a long pull from his beer. “Listen man,” he started hesitantly. “Are you two...I mean, do you...”

Chris stared at his friend with his brow furrowed. 

“She still dating that guy? Davey, Dippy, Dopey...whatever his name was?”

“Nah, they broke up.”

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “And what about you?”

“I broke up with Jenny again, I told you that.”

“No, I mean, with her. Are you...would you be pissed if I asked Y/N out?”

Chris just stared at the other man. Sebastian wanted to ask Y/N out? His Y/N?? But she’s not mine, he reminded himself. She never has been. And she’s dated plenty of other men since I met her. What right do I have to tell Sebastian no?

“Uh- I mean, go for it.”

“Do you mean that?” Seb asked, studying Chris’s face.

“Yeah, sure. She did just tell me that she was kinda over the whole relationship thing right now though, so she might not be the most receptive...you might get a better response if you wait,” he added the last bit casually, tacking on a shrug and wondering if he was overacting the casual vibe he was aiming for. 

“I’ll take it into consideration,” Sebastian said thoughtfully. “See how the night goes and play it by ear.”

Chris just nodded numbly.

“Alright,” Y/N called as she approached the two men, “I’m decent enough to hang out with the world’s mightiest heroes again.”

“Would you settle for hanging out with the guy that plays a semi-stable 100 year old man?” Seb asked with a charming smile, stepping out to reach Y/N before she got to Chris. 

“Uh-” she said, glancing between the two men.

“Just don’t let her near Tom Holland,” Chris said, clapping Seb on the shoulder and moving away with a huge fake smile plastered on his face. “She’ll kick his ass and then we’ll all be in trouble.”

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“Mr. Evans, I know it’s a party, but please don’t forget you still have a late night interview after this...it might be wise to slow down on the drinks?”

The small assistant was hovering near Chris’s elbow, his expression anxious as he watched Chris sip yet another scotch on the rocks.

Chris didn’t normally drink, but tonight was not a normal night. “Keep me at your side all night”, that was what Y/N had requested. That was what Chris had wanted. Instead, she had spent the evening on Sebastian’s arm, at Sebastian’s side, laughing at Sebastian’s jokes, dancing with Sebastian. He slammed down the rest of his drink, wincing as it burned his throat, and knocked the glass onto the bar. 

Most of the time, Chris was extremely easy going. He was good natured. He liked almost everyone. Jealousy was not something he felt often but at the moment it was twisting in his stomach like an anaconda around its prey. His center was nothing more than a tight fist of rage. This wasn’t him being competitive, this was a base instinct. Fight or flight. Protect what was his. And maybe it was just the alcohol or maybe it was seeing her with someone that seemed to pose a real threat to him, but at that moment, Chris decided that Y/N was his. She would be his.

“Mr. Evans? It’s about that time to head to the show?”

“Thank you, Harold,” Chris replied to the assistant with a smile, his face easing out of the angry mask it had become over the last few hours. “I just have to go and get something.” With that, he stood up and made his way over to where Seb and Y/N stood, the man’s arm laid casually around her shoulders. “Sorry to interrupt but I actually have to steal you away, babe.”

“Oh?” Y/N sounded surprised but not necessarily disappointed. 

“Yeah, gotta go to that chat show remember? Interview with James Corden for TV? You said you’d come hang out?”

“You can stay here if you’d rather,” Sebastian offered quickly. “I can always give you a ride.”

“Thanks Seb, but I’ll go with. I wouldn’t mind just chilling backstage. Besides, I really like James Corden. He always makes me laugh with his crosswalk musical things!”

Sebastian looked slightly disappointed but didn’t argue, choosing instead to simply give Y/N and Chris both hugs and send them on their way with a promise to call her and arrange lunch. 

“You guys are having lunch?” Chris asked as they left the building and walked towards the town car that was waiting outside for them.

“He offered to take me to a ball game and then buy me food,” she responded with a shrug. “I tried to make it clear that it wasn’t gonna be a date.”

“Oh?” he asked as his heart lifted. “Seb’s not your type?”

“I can’t imagine dating a celebrity,” Y/N replied, her tone laced with disgust. “Besides, I told you, I’m over the whole relationship thing right now.”

“Right...” Chris felt his heart sinking back down in his chest again. This was the first time since he had met Y/N that they were both single at the same time and he was free to try and start a romantic relationship with her. Of course she would be sworn off romance. Will I ever catch a break? he wondered as the car pulled out and began the short drive to James Corden’s studio.

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Y/N sat backstage and watched the monitors of what was happening just around the corner. James Corden had brought Chris out to wild applause from the audience and asked him a few introductory questions about the movie. Chris gave all the right answers, promoting the movie well and exercising his not unformidable charm. 

“And there are deaths in the movie?” James tried to wheedle out spoilers. “Does everyone make it through?”

“Hey, I’d love to tell you, but I’m pretty sure Marvel has snipers in the audience that would take me out before I got a word out,” Chris joked jovially. 

“Well, at least tell me if I should go to the theater prepared with kleenex! That’s just good manners.”

“I’ll say this,” Chris hedged with a small smile, “I have it on good authority that waterproof mascara is recommended.” 

“Oh, well I always make sure to wear waterproof,” James retorted with a flutter of his eyelashes to the audience’s delight. “But who is this good authority? I heard a rumor you were recently single again; was I misinformed?”

“No, that’s true, I did break up with someone not too long ago.”

“Someone new in your life already?”

“No,” Chris said with a warm smile, his eyes flicking down briefly as the smile grew wider. “No, not new. Someone who’s been in my life for a while but I never fully appreciated.”

“Oh?” James tried not to interrupt or even make himself very noticeable. If Chris  kept talking, he may get a huge scoop. 

“That’s not the right way to say it actually. I always appreciated this person. I’ve appreciated her since the day we met...but I always thought that we couldn’t be any more than we were.” 

Backstage, Y/N sat frozen. Was Chris talking about her? She had told him off about the waterproof mascara...but the rest...?

“You’re married right?” Chris looked up suddenly at James who nodded. “Is your wife the greatest person in the world? The one that you want to tell all your stories to? The one that you can talk about anything with and always have fun with? The person who always seems to be on your wavelength?”

James was nodding frantically in agreement. 

“But more than that, right? Like, she also expands the things you know, gives you new experiences, takes you new places. She makes you better than you are. She’s the person that you see first in any room. You could walk into a full three ring circus and your eyes would still find her first. It doesn’t matter what she’s wearing, she’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. She’s my best friend and so much more than just that; so much more than I can put into words. That’s how it is with her; that’s how I feel about Y/N.”

All the air in the room, all the air in the world, seemed to have disappeared. There was no sound. Not a rustle of fabric or a whine of an electronic device. Y/N’s lungs seemed to be clenched too tightly to draw breath. Chris was in love with her. That was what he had just said, wasn’t it? He hadn’t used those words but what else could he have meant?

“Thank you for sharing that with us, Chris. And congratulations to you and Y/N. On that rather beautiful note,” James turned to the cameras with a smile, “We’ll take a break and be right back!”

The audience clapped and a crew member counted them out, letting James and Chris know when it was safe to relax. The moment the cameras were no longer filming, Chris leapt from his seat, shook James’s hand and practically galloped backstage. He was worried that Y/N might have fled but she still sat, frozen, in the chair she had taken before he made his confession. 

“Y/N?”

She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes wide and dazed. “That was...”

“The truth?” Chris finished for her.

“Was it?” She asked, her gaze becoming more focused on him. “Is that how you feel?”

He nodded. “That and more. I should have told you before, I should have just listened to Angie and asked you out but I...I don’t know. We were such good friends. And you were always dating other guys. And you hate the celebrity thing, you always said you’d never date anyone famous and you hate it when your picture shows up places, and I knew if we were together your picture would be taken.” Chris knew he was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop. “I always thought you just hated my career too much and that you weren’t interested but tonight...you were so great tonight. You took such good care of those fans and you even had fun but then Seb came around and he was flirting with you and you were laughing and touching his arm and I was this close,” he held up his fingers with a small space between them, “to tearing his arm off and beating him with it. Make him even more realistic as Bucky. So I just had to tell you, I had to-”

Y/N flung herself out of the chair and into his arms, her lips colliding against his with all the force of years of repressed passion. Chris responded equally as enthusiastically, wrapping his large arms around her and lifting her off the ground as he pressed their bodies together. Her lips were lush and tasted slightly of vanilla and cinnamon; Chris wondered if she always tasted this sweet and then if she would taste this sweet everywhere else. His hand went to the back of her neck as her fingers tangled into his hair, causing the gelled locks to splay and stick out in ridiculous, messy patterns. She tugged on his tresses lightly, garnering a moan from him, which allowed her to briefly slip her tongue into his mouth. 

Chris held Y/N even closer, his tongue chasing after hers and caressing its way into her mouth. He ran it along her lips, against her teeth, finally reaching out to brush against her own tongue, licking and exploring her as deeply as possible. 

“Chris,” she breathed out raggedly, breaking the kiss to speak. “Dressing room. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment. She had already been in his arms so it was easy to reach a hand down to the back of her thigh and pull her legs around his waist. Walking quickly, he carried her down the hallway, ignoring the looks of several crew members. He had been waiting years for this moment, god help anyone who tried to interfere or judge.

While they walked, Y/N kissed along his neck, her light nibbling causing his knees to tremble dangerously. 

“It does tickle,” Y/N giggled slightly. 

“What’s that, babe?”

“I was wondering earlier if your beard would tickle me if you kissed me.” She nuzzled against him and giggled again. “It does.”

“Just wait...soon it’s going to be tickling the inside of your thighs,” Chris retorted, his tone darkened with lust. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. “I’ll hold you to that, Evans.”

They reached the dressing room and Chris shoved the door open, striding inside and dumping Y/N onto the plush couch. “Don’t move,” he warned before turning to quickly close and lock the door. She wouldn’t have had time to move had she wanted to; Chris moved rapidly and within seconds was over her again, his body a pleasant weight pressing against her, pushing her down into the soft couch.

“I love this dress,” Chris muttered against her lips. “You look so amazing in silver.” He stopped to kiss her again as his hands traveled along her body. “But it’s covering too much of you...”

Chris sat up and grinned wolfishly at her before moving his hands down to her ankles. He went slowly, his touch brushing the fabric upwards as his fingers traced along her skin against her ankles, her calfs...up to the outside of her thighs. As his hands reached her hips, he looked away from their progress to stare at her eyes again. 

“Lift your hips for me, babe.”

She did as he asked and he continued to slip the fabric off her, his palms stroking over her belly, brushing along her breasts and finally coming up to pull the gown over her head. He cast it to the floor of the dressing room and simply stared down at her for a moment, sprawled on the couch in just bra and panties, looking up at him with her eyes full of hunger and lust. 

“Damn, Y/N. You are even more amazing than I imagined...and trust me, I imagined a lot.”

He grinned at her wickedly again as she bit her lip and then trailed his fingers down her neck causing her to shiver. He continued his descent, his hand stopping only briefly to squeeze her breast through her thin bra before moving down again to find the edge of her underwear. 

Never taking his eyes from hers, Chris slipped his fingers into the edges of her panties and drew them down, pulling them away from her and dropping them on top of her discarded dress. Y/N seemed shy, closing her legs and blushing, but Chris coaxed them open, kissing her knee and trailing his hand along her inner thigh. 

“You’re beautiful, babe.”

“Chris, I-” Y/N started but broke off in a ragged gasp as his fingers brushed over her slit. 

“You what?”

“I,” she panted. “I-”

“Is there something you want to tell me, babe?” His tone was teasing as he smirked down at her. He continued to run his thumb up her slit, pressing it against the small bundle of nerves each time. 

“Mmmm...” She moaned and arched her back. “More...please...”

Chris stoked her again, this time pressing circles against her clit when he reached it. “I don’t think that’s what you wanted to tell me, Y/N.” He moved her legs gently so that he was sitting between them, her slick sex fully exposed to him. “What did you want to tell me, babe?” Instead of stroking, this time when he touched her, Chris pressed his long middle finger inside her, groaning at how she squeezed around it.

Y/N was panting and moaning, her hips moving on instinct against Chris’s hand, chasing pleasure, while her own hands squeezed and tweaked her breasts. 

“I love you, Chris,” she said on a breathy exhale. “I love you!”

“I love you too, babe,” Chris said triumphantly. He pulled his finger out of Y/N earning a moan of disappointment that rapidly became a groan of pleasure when his mouth took the place of his hand. 

Chris licked a stripe along Y/N’s wet pussy, savoring the taste of her, every bit as sweet as her lips. Just as he had promised, his beard tickled the inside of her thighs as he went to work, exploring every part of her with his tongue. Every few strokes and licks he would work his way back to her clit, giving it a firm flick with his tongue before sucking it gently. In a matter of minutes, Y/N was coming undone, chanting his name while he sucked on her and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed through her. She was so overwhelmed by the pleasure, she didn’t even notice as Chris stood and began to undress. It wasn’t until his body weight was above her, pressing her pleasantly into the couch again, that she opened her eyes.

“Hey babe,” Chris whispered, kissing her lightly. His face hovered over hers, bright blue eyes shining down at her with a mixture of lust and love, his hair still standing on end from where she had run her fingers through it. 

Y/N moved her hands to his shoulders, squeezing the large muscles and sliding along the soft skin. He was the most beautiful man she had ever met and he loved her.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered to him. 

Chris wasted no time in complying. The tip of his hardened length had already been aligned with her, brushing against her entrance teasingly. At her word, Chris pressed his hips forward, both of them groaning as he slipped into her. 

“Damn, babe,” he moaned against her neck, his head falling against her, “You’re so tight.”

Y/N couldn’t think straight enough to protest that it wasn’t her tightness but rather his impressive size. Chris was thick and long; he was barely inside her and already filling and stretching her in that perfect blend of pleasure and pain. He moved slowly, pressing into her with gentle determination until he was fully sheathed in her. For a moment they simply stayed that way, as closely connected as possible, but before long, Y/N was aching for him to move, craving the friction and pleasure to come. 

“Please, Chris,” she begged him. “Please fuck me.”

Chris chuckled and kissed along her neck, slowly drawing his hips back and starting a steady rhythm, rocking against her. 

“More,” she moaned as her fingernails dug into his back.

He snapped his hips forward forcefully and she cried out, her back arching as her face screwed up in pleasure. Chris kissed along her jawline and continued, his strokes becoming faster and harder now that she was accustomed to the feel of him. 

“I’m close, I’m so close,” Y/N moaned as he continuously hit the sweet spot deep within her.

“Me too, babe,” Chris said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Let go, Y/N...just enjoy it.”

With one last moan of his name, she came undone again, her nails digging into his back as her body tensed and relaxed, her muscles clenching tightly around Chris and bringing him over the edge as well. He found her lips again, kissing her and moaning her name as he continued to thrust, coaxing them both through the waves of pleasure as they came down. 

For another minute, they simply lay on the couch, twisted in each other’s arms, enjoying the feelings they had been denying themselves for years. Then Chris drew back to stare down at Y/N; her hair was a mess from rubbing against the couch, her cheeks flushed and lipstick smeared. Her eyes were still glazed with recent pleasure and her chest heaved unevenly. 

“You’re just as beautiful as the first time I saw you,” Chris said lovingly, leaning down to kiss her chastely. 

“The first time you saw me I had a hole in my lip and a mouthful of blood,” Y/N scoffed at him.

“Yeah, you did. And you were still the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”

“Such a liar, Evans.”

“Not to you, babe. Not about this.” He shook his head seriously. “I was crazy about you from the first moment I set eyes on you.”

Y/N blushed and looked away from him biting her lip. “Hey...what’s our percentage?”

“What?”

“You know how things were only good with Jenny like 10% of the time? What would you say our percentage is?”

Chris looked down at her and laughed, enjoying the unrestrained laughter that she always brought out in him. “About...99.9%.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment before breaking out into a huge smile. “I’ll take that answer.” 

“What percentage would you have said?” Chris asked quizzically. 

“Nope, not telling,” Y/N said with a smile as her phone started to buzz. 

“Oh, come on, babe, that’s not fair!”

“You should have asked me before you told me what your percentage was if you wanted to know! Now I have no incentive to tell you,” she teased while grabbing her phone. 

“Oh, I can give you an incentive,” Chris growled playfully. “Come ‘ere!”

He grabbed her and pulled her laughing back to the sofa, kissing her wildly and tickling his fingers along her body. Y/N’s phone lay forgotten on the table, the screen open to a text from Angie that read simply: “Saw Corden. About damn time!”

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, calbeebellona!

May 7 - ShieldShock ficlet for the prompt “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll give it back.” or “Their pick-up line wasn’t as good as any of mine, I’m just saying.” I hate Civil War, so maybe set it in an alternative universe where there is no Civil War? I would also like it to be humourous and a bit of fluff? Basically, I just want a happy story with some laughter in. for @calbeebellona

Written by @iamartemisday

The Avengers had fans. Steve knew this, yet it was still a bit surreal to walk through the halls of Javits Center and see twenty one people dressed in homemade Captain America costumes of varying levels of quality.

He himself was suited up for the occasion. The shield strapped to his back felt heavier than usual and he was sweating under his helmet. So far, no one had recognized him, though. Tony had explained it to him while insisting he couldn’t go to any fan event in plain clothes and sunglasses.

“Do you have any idea how shady that looks, pun half intended,” he said with the beginnings of a grin. “If you really want to do this, you have to go whole hog. Get in there and work that suit like the real Captain America.”

“I am the real Captain America,” Steve had said.

“And that’s exactly why no one will notice you.”

Steve didn’t have to be a genius to know that didn’t make any sense. And yet, he’d been walking around the convention all day, attending panels, browsing the dealer’s room, buying a few things, and not a single person had anything to say about Actual Real Steve Rogers in their midst except ‘awesome cosplay, dude.’

“Maybe we should go,” Steve muttered to Bucky after they’d been asked to pose for pictures for the hundredth time. “Pretty soon, someone’s going to figure out we’re not just fans in costumes.”

Bucky, clad in black pants, combat boots, and a black jacket with the left sleeve ripped off to expose his metal arm, punched his shoulder. “Come on, Punk. I thought you were having fun. This was your idea.”

“I know,” said Steve. He quickly averted his eyes as a girl with his face plastered all over her clothes ran by. “I didn’t think it’d be so… this.”

A man with a distended gut and a cheap shaggy brown wig walked by in an amateurish Winter Soldier costume. His entire right arm was wrapped in aluminum foil, complete with a crudely drawn red star. He caught sight of Bucky and paused to give him a once over. “Your Bucky costume’s not bad, but that’s the wrong arm.”

He waved with his right arm, allowing bits of foil to fall off, then disappeared into the crowd as Bucky’s jaw fell and his face turned bright red. “It is NOT the wrong arm!”

He clenched his fists as Steve made a token effort not to laugh at his best friend’s pain. “Come on, Buck. I thought you were having fun.”

“Bite me,” Bucky stomped off towards the refreshments table, and that was probably the last Steve would see of him for hours.  

He wandered into the main corridor, filing past kids with toy propulsion blasters and young women in catsuits and red wigs. A few more fans asked for photos. One of them wore a shirt which loudly proclaimed she was Steve Rogers’ future wife. He fake smiled like a champ and made a beeline for the dealer’s room as soon as the overly touchy girl set him free.

It was a little less crowded than before. Steve could actually move without fear of crushing someone’s foot. He stayed close to the walls, ignoring the multitude of Hawkeyes, Thors, and even a few Lokis hanging around. A few booths away, a bespectacled young woman in blue jeans and plaid would have been the most normally dressed person he’d seen all day, were it not for the signs she was carrying.

SUPPORT JANE FOSTER!

JANE FOSTER WAS ABLE TO BUILD A BRIDGE TO ASGARD IN THE DESERT WITH A BOX OF CAR PARTS.

JANE ONCE PUNCHED A NORSE GOD IN THE FACE. CAN YOU PUNCH NORSE GODS IN THE FACE? JANE FOSTER IS BETTER THAN YOU.

How she held all those signs with only two hands, Steve couldn’t say. Maybe she was secretly magic. A shirtless man covered in green body paint sidled up to her, his grin a perfect contrast to her irate frown. “Hey babe. Wanna hang out later?”

“That depends,” she said, “do you want to talk about how Jane Foster is unfairly treated by so-called Avengers fans and denied credit for her scientific innovations by drooling fangirls with internet access and delusions of becoming Asgardian royalty?”

The shirtless man blinked. “Uh… Jane who?”

She rolled her eyes and kept walking in Steve’s direction. From up close, he could almost say he knew her, but the name escaped him. “Do you need help holding those signs?”

He hadn’t meant to speak. The words just popped out of his mouth of their own volition. The young woman brightened up. “See? That right there is a much better pick up line. Here you go.”

She handed him the ‘Punched a Norse God’ sign and Steve made a note to ask Thor about that later. He had a feeling he knew which god got punched and that was a story he needed to hear.  

“My real pick-up lines are much better,” Steve said, earning a smile from the girl whose name had finally popped into his head. “It’s Darcy, right? Darcy Lewis?”

“Yup,” she said as they re-entered the hall. “I guess you’ve seen the pics online. I’ve been working with Jane for years and last week I made the mistake of looking at the Avengers fan forums. There was a lot of bullshit on there about Thor dumping Jane because she’s ‘boring’ or that she dumped him because ‘she’s a bitch’. As if the woman just sprang into existence when Thor needed a muggle girlfriend and her life has no meaning outside of him. For fuck’s sake, they broke up mutually. They’re still friends and Jane had been working her ass off on that bridge since before Thor was even a thing.”

“That’s awful,” Steve said. This was why he stopped going to the fan forums after the first time. That and the rather… suggestive art people drew of him and Bucky. Or worse, him and Tony.

“I even found this website: janefostersux.com. And that’s ‘sucks’ with an X because who cares about proper spelling when you’re an unemployed, basement dwelling edgelord. It’s okay, though. I told Tony about it and he broke through the firewalls and filled every webpage with pictures of omelettes. I’m not sure why omelettes. I guess he was just hungry, but it killed traffic to the site so I can’t complain.” She heaved a long sigh. “Anyway, thanks for listening to me ramble.”

“No problem,” Steve said. They stopped in hotel lounge for a break, leaving their signs at their feet as they took the last empty spots on the last empty couch. “I think it’s great that you’re doing all this. Dr. Foster deserves to be respected.”

“Got that right.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a spiral notebook decorated with science stickers and a pen attached. “I’m collecting signatures from fans to give to Jane later. You in?”

“Of course,” Steve said. He wrote a quick note for Jane, who would probably be amused to learn how he finally met her legendary intern.

“Aw, you’re awesome,” Darcy said, with a smile that made Steve’s stomach flip. “And you’re the best Captain America cosplayer I’ve seen all day. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the real thing.”

Steve coughed and rubbed the side of his neck. “Well, actually…”

[franeridart]

Your colors lately are even more beautiful!!! Your art is amazing!

AHHHH thank you!!! so much!!!!!! I have, admittedly, finally been putting more effort into them haha it’s good to know it’s noticeable! ;;

Anon said:My dude, I want to own Bakugou's shirt in that Kamino squad drawing

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! happy you liked it!!!!! :D

Anon said:What do you think of Kaminari x Ibara or Toga x Twice?

I don’t really have strong feelings about either, honestly :O but the only person I really ship Ibara with is Tetsu, and I can’t say I’m much into villain-shipping in general

Anon said:Have you read Sweater Weather by crispykrimi?

Nope, I don’t really read tddk fics, sorry ^^’’

Anon said:Do you think kirishima goes to izuku and they talk about their relationships?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm honestly, while I realize that Kiri and Deku are on friendly terms, given canon I’d say if Kirishima needs to talk to anyone about stuff he’s gonna go to either Baku, Kami, Sero, Tokoyami or Mina, since those are the people we’ve seen him open up to, in canon! Same goes for Deku, if he gotta open up to someone it’s gonna be Iida, Todoroki or Uraraka :0 well, it’s not like it’s impossible for them to talk about it, but I can see it happen more in a possible future where they’ve grown closer than they are atm in canon! At least imho haha

Anon said:I just wanna say that I’ve been following you for a pretty long time (since the tattoo au was just starting I think) and you’re art just continues to improve and look amazing as time goes on. I’ve always loved it but these past couple days I saw some of ur recent stuff and was just blown away bc it looks so good. Thanks for drawing and sharing ur art w us, I love seeing it!! I hope u have a good day!!!

THAT SURE IS A LONG TIME!!! I’m so happy to hear you stuck around that long aaahhhhhh ;; and thank you so so so much for the compliment, oh my god!!

Anon said:have you ever considered kiribaku getting hit by someone w/ a body-swapping quirk?

I have! It’s a trope I find real funny - but I’ve also seen a whole lot of art/fics for that topic already, would people even seriously be interested in seeing more? It looks like the type of thing that’s gonna come out more or less always the same, which is why I never really bothered to draw out my ideas haha

Anon said:Your kids!au makes me wanna write so bad.

THAT’S GOOD!!! Inspiring people is the best thing I could ever ask for!!!! (...remember to credit back to the post if you use any of my ideas tho ;; pls)

Anon said:Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!!! I love love love looovee the kiribaku kids!!!!!!!!! Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!

THANK YOU!!!! I’m super happy you like themmm!!!!!

Anon said:Hey:) just wanted to leave you a note to let you know how much i adore the way you draw Tamaki. Of course I love your kiribakus and bnha art in general, like your comics, but not a lot of people draw Tamaki and I really love yours:)

Holy smokes thank you!!!! Jiki is actually incredibly comfortable to draw, I’m glad you like my take on him! I’ve got so many unfinished sketches of him.... I should really try to finish those...................

Anon said:so this ask is like,, basically a huge appreciation ask for your comics bc they're cute and funny and they always light up my day!! on a side note: are you franeridan on ao3 bc if so I'm dying thank you for bookmarking my fics

Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!! And yes I am!!!! whatever fics they were if I bookmarked them they were for sure incredibly amazing and made my day better so thank you so much for using your time to write them!!!!!

Anon said:may i ask the heights of teenage mako and tai!!

Mako is just a little bit under 2m and Tai’s ~170cm! As things are then, Mako’s a lil bit taller than both Baku and Kiri while Tai is obviously shorter!

Anon said:i used your art for reference. is it ok if i post it crediting you and saying you drew the picture that i took reference from?

Sure, if it’s just for reference and credited I don’t mind! (but if you were using my stuff for pose references may I suggest you avoid doing that in the future cause my anatomy is absolutely terrible you’re just gonna end up making my same mistakes aaahhhhhhhhhhh ;; there’s lotsa more accurate refs around, believe me)

Anon said:please draw more shinsou he looks amazing in your style!!

Thank you! And sure, in the future why not!!

Anon said:Just wanted to let you know that I was scrolling through your bokuroo tag and 1) Aaaah I'm still so in love with how you draw kuroo and 2) I love how I can see the way your art style has improved over time and it's just so nice to see?? Bless your art so much and you're such a great person too I'm cry

SOB thank you so much oh my god, this really means the world to me???? ;; so many compliments holy smokes bless you

Anon said:Hi! I'm the anon that sent you the message about the A Day to Remember song for KiriBaku, and found another awesome song for them - Let Me Be by Escape the Fate. It's super cute and sappy for an alt/hardcore band and it fits Kiri more than Baku, imo, but could honestly come from either of their perspectives. ~SongAnon :)

AH GODS that’s sweet ;O; how come hardcore bands always go so soft on their ballads I cry - I feel it works perfectly from Baku’s pov too, tho!! Let him be Kiriiiiiii ;;; sweet

Anon said:I just wanted to say that I love your art and style as a whole, but I really really appreciate the way you draw Kirishimas eyebrows... like they look so simple but,,, they truly make my day 💕

Kirishima’s tiny eyebrows!!!! I’m glad you like them, they’re weirdly expressive and easy to draw honestly hahaha

Anon said:your art is shit //no no no nonno oo fdjsakfl;d I MEANT THE SHIT your art is the shit fjkdsa i'm so sorry i love you and your art this is why i can never compliment anyone ahhhhhhh //i'm crying omg i saw someone else send a separate ask to someone elase that was like your art is shit but it is the shit and i was like whoaaa how cool but noooooo jfsdakldsfa kms i'm sorry

This was a bit of a trainwreck ngl haha but it’s okay anon!!! It was an honest mistake, don’t worry too much about it!!! Thank you so so so much for liking my stuff

Anon said:Hi erm I believe that YouTuber "AnimeUproar" used your kinoko komori fanart without crediting you and I'm not sure whether you gave him permission. The title of the video is "EVERY QUIRK EXPLAINED! | Class 1-B (My Hero Academia / Boku no Hero Academia All Quirks)" // Same anon as before and he also used your Setsuna art in the same video. The kinoko art had your watermark cut off while the other one didn't but they still have no credit anywhere and I'm not sure whether you have permission. Sorry if you did and I'm just being stupid lmao but it's the same YouTuber and the same video in case you want to message him

If it’s not credited you can be sure I didn’t give them the green light to use it, honestly - but, you know. Whatever. I’m tired. Let them use it. It’s a video so it’s not even like people can save it and reupload it anywhere else. sigh

Anon said:I am like 2000 years late but,, your bakubaby sketches saved my life wow they’re so cute

*cries forever* thank you !!!!!!!!!!!! ;;O;;

Anon said:All of ur art especially recently is just??? Blowing me away?? Oh my god?? I just your coloring and then that fantasy one holy fuck the DETAILS I feel like I can touch it it's so good I can tell you put a lot of time into it it shows it shows so much god it's so high quality I'M STILL !?!?! your art seems to get better all the time thank youuuuuu for blessing us w it it's so incredibly lovely ahhhhhhhhh

I’M SO HECKING HAPPY YOU LIKED THAT ONE cause it really took forever honestly - it was fun from start to end so it’s fine, but, you know, it’s cool to see it was worth it haha thank you so so much for the complimentsss!!!!

Anon said:I love your art so much :') it makes me so happy whenever I get a notification from your blog

I still can’t believe people really have notifs on for this blog oh my g o d ;u; thank you

Anon said:I just wanted the share, that I came across your art in a trash, and scrolled down your blog looking for more, and I liked it so much that I decided to follow you... Only to find past self already did whoops haha. So I liked you enough to follow you twice!

THAT’S SO COOL!!! Holy smokes!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!! °O°

Anon said:I just went thru your whole art tag chronologically and omg you've come so far! Every time your art crosses my dash I smile and I'm happy every time I see it!

Have I? I have!! Sometimes I look at my really old art and I hate it and want to delete it but then I’m like, comparing it to the new stuff makes me feel good about it so it’s still there - that does mean sometimes people are gonna see the old stuff too, tho #rip I’m sorry you had to see that stuff, but thank you a lot for thinking I got better!!!!

Anon said:I love how Jirou's eyes look in your style. (How everything about her looks, too.) Damn, she's a stunner, isn't she?

*whispers* she is oh my g o d !!! I love Jirou. She’s just. So goodlooking. Gods. I’m glad you think she looks good in my style!!!

Anon said:ur momo and jirou are so beautiful!!! 💙 if i wasnt already as gay as it gets id have a major enlightenment rn ahhh

GOSH!!!! thank you so much!!!! :D

Anon said:have you considered... minamomo and/or kyooru

Never before Jirou and Tooru, actually, but I have thought about Mina and Momo and I’m still unsure about where that ship even came from. Like, not in the sense that I think it’s a bad ship, but in the sense that I really don’t understand it :0 why do you like Mina and Momo, anon? There’s so many people shipping it, I’m curious about where it came from! But every time I asked I got no answer #rip I wanna be interested in it, help me understand why it should be interesting!

Anon said:Have you ever considered Aoyama x Sero?? 10/10 recommend.

I haven’t! Mostly cause I generally hc Aoyama as ace, really - but that’s an interesting ship I might think about more :O

Anon said:I finally started reading BNHA again after dropping it in May and HOLY SHIT DID I MISS A LOT!! JUST THAT ARC WAS INSANE??

I know right??? I KNOW RIGHT????? I loved that arc from start to end, no lies anywhere, such a genuinely good arc!!! 

Anon said:Hey fran, I just wanted to say that I like your art very much and that I love to see how much you are improving as time goes on. You are doing great. ♥

So many people telling me that I’m improving oh my g o d it makes me so happy ;u; thank you so so much

Anon said:ahhhh i loved your aokaga drawings, they're the cutest and I hope you make more of them being cute together!!!!

Eek, sorry anon but I’m really not into making content for that ship anymore ;^; I’m glad you still like the old things, tho!!

Anon said:I really wanted to tell you that I love your art so much I can't even explain. It cures my anxiety and I'm not kidding. When I feel down and shitty, I just go through your blog and your fanarts make my day (my favorite ever is your bokuro). The way you put the emotions into characters gives me life, honestly. Thank you for your art

THIS MEANS!!! THE WORLD!!!! TO ME!!!!! Knowing that I can help you like that is such a good feeling anon, holy heck!! Thank you so much for liking my things and sending this ask!!!

Anon said:heyo tell us abt some kami angst hcs :)))) tenk youu

Anon............. love............... whatever in this blog made you think I might have angst headcanon about anything..................... I’m the most fluff person around............

Anon said:That idea you had about making hagakure's costume out of her hair or something like mirio's!!! WHAT A GREAT IDEA IVE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE!! You're so smart! I LOVE IT

THANK YOU BUT IT WASN’T JUST MY IDEA!!! After Mirio explained his costume the idea was floating around on my dash a lot, it just made sense to a bunch of us!!

[callmeakumatized]

My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend - Ch 10

[[ SURPRISE!!! Another Chapter! :D ]]

Ao3 ff.net previous chapter

Marinette had never responded to Adrien's message from Friday night, and she didn't try to call him, despite her threat to do so. Adrien both liked and disliked this development. While he hated not hearing about how she was feeling – because, really, he loved her, dang it – he desperately needed the time to quell his own feelings and decide what to do from here. Because he knew he needed to make the next move. He just didn't know if he was brave enough to do it, especially without the loving support he had come to rely on so heavily from Ladybug – Marinette…Maribug?

So he ignored Nino's small-talk texts. And Alya's Ladyblog update messages. Instead, he focused on what he could do for his Lady.

So far? He had a big dollop of Nuttin' atop a sundae of Diddly-Squat.

What could he say that he hadn't already said? 'Purr-pose' instead of 'Porpoise'?

(Yeah, he didn't think so either.)

Needless to say, the main sounds he heard throughout his weekend were cheese-eating (normal), Ladyblog update blips (normal), and a lot – a lot – of (maybe melodramatic, to a degree) sighing (not as��normal).

When Monday came around, Adrien seriously considered telling Nathalie he was sick. Or running away. Or joining the circus. Anything to be anywhere but there was a viable option in his arsenal of excuses at this point. The Saturday evening Akuma was still fresh on his mind, and it had been especially nasty. It wasn't hard, per se, but Ladybug, while playing up a scary version of "Nothing's wrong why would anything be wrong!?" had taken turns roughly vaulting him toward the danger (grinning wickedly while she did so) and getting ridiculously close to him in very intimate ways (trying to maintain appearances, maybe, but running her fingers through his hair while there were explosions was toying with his brain and totally on purr-pose, don't try to tell him otherwise).

And he was pretty sure the "mistake" where they went for a fist bump and she broke his nose was totally not the accident she had pretended it was. Especially because she had insisted on the fist bump before the Miraculous cure, which would, admittedly, fix it, but not completely. Which she, of course, knew.

Even thinking about it now, Adrien could feel the bruising.

The unexpected sloppy kiss she had planted on him and the desperate look in her eyes afterward did nothing – N-O-T-H-I-N-G – to help his hurting heart. Or his reeling emotions.

So when Adrien pulled up to the school, he already had expectations of what he would see, what he would find. A girl crushed under the weight of a broken heart? Maybe. A woman angry over her lover's quarrel? More likely. What Adrien expected to see when he walked into the school building was, perhaps, based on his own feelings. He felt down, and he felt confused, and he felt anxious, so maybe he assumed Marinette would feel the same way too.

He was SO. WRONG.

What he saw was Ladybug in fleshy form. A girl with a planned plan planned to planny precision. It was disgusting. And Adrien had to pick his school stuff and his jaw off the floor when he first saw her.

She looked gorgeous. Just enough make-up to keep it subtle. Just enough hairs coming loose from her up-do to keep it casual. Sneaker heels and a cute skirt instead of flats and pants. The girl was siphoning the oxygen straight out of his lungs, using it to fuel her full laughs and playful jabs at her classmates.

He first spotted her in the locker room where she was putting on red lipstick in the mirror of her locker, giggling with Alya, Rose, and Alix about something. As he gazed at the back of her head, he could have sworn she saw him reflected there. He definitely saw the flash of hard blue eyes before she leaned over, grabbing Alya's head and planting a puckering kiss onto her best friend's cheek. The girls all giggled, and she turned right to him and winked. Adrien gulped in response, reaching down to pick up the books he had dropped. He rubbed his still-sore nose self-consciously.

When he looked back up, Nino had joined Alya, and Marinette had put on his headphones to listen in on the music he were talking about.

The girls walked by a few minutes later, passing a statue-like Adrien who had frozen when Marinette had shown him how adorable she looked with red lipstick and headphones.

He was captivated by visions of dark lashes and red lips.

He was jealous of Alya's kissed cheek.

He was jealous of Nino, Alix, and Rose's close proximity.

He was terrified of Marinette.

As the girl walked up to him, Adrien tried to tighten his grip on his bag and his books, trying to not repeat the action for a third time that morning, but to no avail. They clattered everywhere, only accentuated by his efforts to keep himself upright. The familiar warmth of embarrassment manifested itself in his cheeks, neck, and ears, and Adrien concentrated heavily on picking up his stuff and not looking up. Until Marinette's shoes paused in front of him.

When he had finished with his books, a hand shot out in front of his face. Adrien still didn't raise his eyes, but he was not one to turn away a hand offered to him…especially when this was the girl of your dreams (and maybe his nightmares the night before, but he didn't want to think about that). Marinette's grip was strong, and she pulled him up with ease. Then she paused for a moment before lifting up on of his hands and kissing his palm. Adrien might have made a whimpering sound at this.

Marinette only smiled, their eyes finally meeting…and then purposefully flicking him on the nose before sauntering off.

"Do you deserve it?"

"Huh?" Adrien's reply was about an octave higher than normal. He was too busy rubbing his throbbing nose and blinking the sudden tears of pain from his eyes.

Adrien's blurry vision finally started to focus. His best friend stood there looking at him, lips pursed but eyes twinkling.

"Do you deserve it?" the DJ repeated, slower this time.

Nino's voice was usually a welcomed anchor to this sea of chaos that was his life (though it was slowly turning into a hurricane of madness, a sharknado, a flippin' Bermuda triangle centered around him). The question, however, was not welcomed.

"Uh…" Adrien easily understood the meaning of the simple question. He just didn't know where to start.

"Just answer me, bro."

"Yes…?"

"That's the first step. How you gonna fix it?"

"I – what? How do you even know – ?"

Nino closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head and placing a hand on Adrien's shoulder.

"Dude, you are just lucky that it was me you sent that message to and not her."

…Wut.

"The girl is shooting daggers at you already. Have you talked to her since Friday at all?"

Talked with? Nah, not really. Fought with? Yeah, absolutely. And in more ways than one.

"No? What message?"

"You seriously thought that that girl – that girl – would cheat on you?"

Oh. That message. How had he…? Nevermind. Whatever. WHAT. EVER.

"Nino…I…I don't know how to explain. But, yes?"

"You know that that girl has been in love with you since you started public school, right?"

"WHAT?"

"The girl has your schedule memorized." Nino chuckled for a second before sobering instantly. "Do not tell her I told you that. Cause honestly, I do not want that," – he motioned toward the direction Marinette had gone – "after me. And you better figure this out soon. Mari is seriously ticked."

"I…but…"

Nino only shook his head and walked away, a salute and a smile his only departing graces.

Adrien blinked stupidly at nothing. Then he lost control of his books again. He couldn't help but see it as an awful metaphor for what his life was: a mess.

qpqpqpqpqp

Adrien could handle the cutesy gushing over hat designs with Myléne and the discussion of the new Jagged Stone/Zombie Skullcrushers duet with Ivan. Heck, he could even deal with hearing Marinette gush about LadyNoir with Alya, the conversation so close it was almost in his flippin' ear. But this? Ah nah. He drew the line at the "gun show" she started participating in with Kim and Alix during their lunch hour. Particularly when Kim started feeling her gorgeous, glittery (how is that possible?) muscles.

Not to sound like he was a masochist, or that he owned Maribug or anything attached to her, but…those muscles were his.

Without warning, Adrien unceremoniously grabbed Marinette by the arm and dragged her away from the group of classmates, giving Kim the stink eye. They only made it a couple tables away before Marinette slipped her arm out from his grasp.

"Excuse you!" she shot out, placing a hand on her hip and popping it out in such an adorablewayshewasgoingtokillhim.

"Excuse me?" Adrien shot back, matching her quiet tone. "Excuse you! Letting him feel you up like that…"

"He was not feeling me up!"

"He might as well have been."

She snorted.

Adrien walked a step away, grabbing at his hair before going back to her and pointing a finger just passed her face. "Stop flirting with everyone! It's – It's killing me, Marinette! If you're going to touch anyone, or kiss anyone, or for goodness' sake share headphones with anyone, it should be with me!"

Marinette stared blankly at him for a moment. "Huh. You'd think I would have seen this coming or something. I mean, you do tend to get jealous over the silliest things…like yourself."

Adrien sat on the nearest table, covering his face with his hands and groaning loudly. This day didn't turn out how he imagined; it was worse. Removing one hand from his face he reached out and caught hold of an escaping Marinette, pulling her to him again, but more gently. She came willingly and he pulled her into some semblance of an embrace. Mostly so he could continue the conversation through whispers in her ear. Mostly.

"I thought you didn't know, Mari."

"And I thought you did know."

This was something he had sorta figured out, but it still left questions.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Uh, er…well, you see…" Marinette pulled away a bit and Adrien saw the crack in her confident façade for the first time that day. It almost gave him confidence. But, since he didn't know why she was hesitating to answer, courage quickly dissolved into nervousness.

"You asked me out!" she finally whisper-yelled at him.

"You said 'yes'! Why – Why would you say 'yes' to that!?"

Marinette flushed before suddenly grabbing both sides of his face. "You just…you have that – that face! You shouldn't just walk around with th-that face and expect unsuspecting females to be able to answer, uh, logically!"

Adrien couldn't help it. He knew he was in deep trouble, but…he snickered. Marinette immediately let go of him and flicked his nose again. With a cry, his hands grabbed her wrists to block off anymore attacks. She struggled against him, gritting her teeth.

"And you came to my house, and you called me MY NICKNAME!" Her voice was getting louder. "Or do you go to everyone's house and call them 'M'Lady' and say 'See you tomorrow' and KISS THEIR HAND!?"

Adrien froze. When had he…?

Oh. Oh gosh.

He…he had done that, hadn't he?

"Well, I-I-I, I mean, you're not wrong…" his voice drifted with his gaze as he thought back to that time with Marinette, poking around her room and flirting – teasing – her. Marinette stopped struggling, the lack of movement bringing Adrien's eyes back to his partner's. He was shocked to see them a little watery, and when she spoke, her voice was very small.

"You do do that to everyone?"

"WHAT? No! NO, Marinette, that's not –"

"I thought that that was just for me…"

"It IS! What I meant was that you're right, I did do that, but I don't do that to anyone else! I've never done that to anyone else!"

"Just to me? And well…me?"

There was a mixture of skepticism with hopefulness in her eyes. It was a fear for both of them: Marinette fearing Adrien's disloyalty, and Adrien facing the fear of letting her down. Again.

"Yes," Adrien said firmly, letting go of her wrists finally and placing them tentatively on either side of her face. "And I just, I didn't mean to those times with you-you either, it must have j-just slipped out, I-I mean, I didn't…" His face felt warm. Why…why had he done that? It had flowed so easily. Had he…but no, he couldn't have…?

He had had a crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And Marinette seemed to have simultaneously reached this same conclusion.

"Oh my gosh, you filthy hypocrite!" she spat at him, pushing his hands away. "You were hitting on me!"

"WHAT! I was not – not – hitting on you!"

He was totally hitting on her.

"Oh, 'Princess'," Marinette pulled away before adorning what he assumed was supposed to be a fake Chat Noir voice and a fake Chat Noir walk, twirling around and fluttering her lashes at him (even in pretend, Chat Noir still had swag). "Oh, it's raining! Please, please let me in! EVEN THOUGH I LIVE A BLOCK AWAY."

"I wasn't hitting on you! I was flirting, and that is not the same!"

HE WAS TOTALLY HITTING ON HER.

"You had a crush on me! ADMIT IT!"

"Says the girl who has more posters on her wall of me than La Mode magazine!"

Several gasps sounded throughout the cafeteria. One of them was Marinette's. One of them was also Adrien's.

That was a low blow, and they all knew it, even those in the unwitting audience.

The next thing Adrien knew, he was sprawled across one of the long lunch tables, Marinette shoving a thick slab of pudding into his face.

All he could do for a moment was blink stupidly at the ceiling. That is, until he heard the "Oooo's" coming from the kids around them. When he sat up, he saw a smug, red, and angry Marinette. But he was done playing around.

Adrien made a show of licking off what he could before looking around and making a grab for whatever was around him – mashed potatoes, perfect – and flicking it into her own face.

Or, he would have.

But she was Ladybug. The blithe girl deftly dodged the potato slop easily. Instead, the wad of starchy goodness landed in a young girl's hair. The young lady yelped at the surprising impact.

A stillness broke over the cafeteria…until a voice that sounded suspicious like Alya's yelled, "FOOD FIGHT!"

"DETENTION!" a stronger voice rang out, bringing the lunch room into another quiet lull. Adrien and Marinette's gazes snapped to each other. Both their hands had more globs of food in them, aimed toward each other. Audible gulps sounded. They then looked to the person whose heels now clicked against the tiled floor in a heavy rhythm.

Ah. It looks like Principal Damocles decided to join them all for lunch today.

Great.

[shineethinks]

hi im a new shawol!! what are some shinee inside jokes? i only know onew sangtae helP i dont get milk and etc

hi bebs WELCOME TO SHINEE WORLD, i’m your mom now. this got v long with loTS of links so i put it under a read more!disclaimer: by no means a comprehensive list, i am but one human and i do not own any of the videos, credit is where credit is due!

onew: 

onew sangtae: something that’s renowned in fandom and it’s basically onew makes these situations or says things that people don’t know quite how to react to LOL shinee even has a song for it (starts at 0:23 but the beginning is the infamous rap from their song shinee world (doo-dop) and you should NOT miss that) he just kind of does things and carries on

chicken mania: dude really loves chicken 

ex: a lot, like a LOT, A LOT, (a lot)

ttakbam: this is a forehead flick that koreans use as a punishment for losing a game/bet/etc. onew is literally KNOWN for this in korea, it’s funny bc it strikes fear and panic in the hearts of his enemies (and members) 

ex: here, here 

can’t find his drink or man: from shinee’s performance of lady gaga’s “just dance” in 2009 

pinee: during shinee’s “one fine day” onew went to krabi where he introduces us to pinee

jonghyun:

michael jackson voice: dear god this joke has been running since the dawn of shinee. in their song 산소 같은 너 (love like oxygen), jong drew influence from MJ in his singing and onew mocked him 

(ex. here and here) and has been mocking him ever since. in their song excuse me miss (amazing performance) shinee continues the joke and imitate him as well 

is this the reality you wanted: jong’s catchphrase during their reality show “hello baby” where they took care of a toddler named yooguen. as they were all v young during this time (ring ding dong era) there were a lot of situations that jong was like “is this real life / are we really doing this” and that’s when he’d say it to the camera @ the viewers 

shortness & insoles: let’s be real, jongie is not a very tall man; he is smol and adorable and it’s fun to tease him about his height (honestly it seems like he’s fine with it as he seems to tease himself as well in the lyrics of “young and rich”)

about insoles: here

young and rich: here 

his kazoo: just….. he would and it amuses me to no end that he got shawols kazooing as well 

key:

girl group dances/wild dances: he’s the king of girl group dances; key’s able to memorize dances very easily after just watching them and he became pretty infamous for that. he has a lot of fun with them and with dancing in general 

girl group dances: here 

general insanity: here

possibly my favorite 7 seconds ever like you are idols p l s contain yourselves (during shinee world III in seoul): here

savagery: here

scared of heights&haunted houses: and they did this and this to him

key’s daily life as a living breathing meme: key’s know how!

my gucci burned: during shinee world V in dallas, key explains it here (he’s talking to jong when he’s talking about the drier). what a guy, what a meme

minho:

dibidibidi my name is minho (shinee world (doo-bop)): the iconic shinee rap where the famous dibidibidi was born and shinee gets their nicknames: bling bling jonghyun, powerful dancer taemin, dubu leader onew, almighty key, flaming charisma minho; it is ridiculous and hilarious and they kept it for nine years woaw 

flaming charisma: from the aforementioned shinee world rap but they always make jokes about it equating minho to fire 

ex: here, here 

his fkin loud-ass sneezes: he sneezes loudly; but on yang nam show, he explains (for the first time in 9 years) that he sneezes loudly bc he has allergies, he used to hold it in but the doctor said that it’s not good for him so he just let it out; after the members heard that there’s a medical reason, they feels bad man 

dabho: he dabs and infected his members 

taemin:

milk: this is from ring ding dong where taemin is drinking milk for no apparent reason (which is incidentally where i x’d out of the music video when i first saw it LOL); shawols joke that it’s because during this time taeminnie was 16 and still a growing child 

everlasting struggle against bugs: he reALLY hates bugs and recoils away (from the lovely @nothingbutsoulmatesjongkey) from them which is a source of amusement to both shinee and shawols alike. boy is a damn professional but when he spots a bug he will freak out even if it is during a performance LOL sos save him 

more examples: here, here (there are a lot) 

GUCCI SLIPPERS: probably the bane of shawols’ existence, a cursed image 

pics: here, here

mockery: here (also check out all of valentae’s stuff, you won’t be disappointed)

everyone shames him and they are the real gucci that should have been burned 

magic hands: a condition that afflicts him that causes him to  lose/break everything he touches; sometimes while he’s performing his rosary bracelet flies off into the crowd and a fan holds it for him until he can get it afterwards, he also just … breaks things like trophies and once on the set of “view” there were motorcycles that everyone was sitting on and looking at and when taemin touched one, it fell over and part of the plastic cracked (from 2016 weekly idol)

ex: here (sorry i couldn’t find an eng sub so i just did it here 1. he had to get a new rosary ring bc he lost it during running man when he threw something; 2. a moment after a fan gave a present to him, it flew out of his hands while he was waving; 3. during one fine day, when he was in switzerland, he misplaced his train ticket, 4. tries to open sugar packet, fails; 5. once shinee had to wait at the airport for a few hours bc he lost his passport; 6. broke his name sign)

hot chocolate??: from shinee’s “one fine day” he just looks lost and v cute and we mock/love him for it 

this video: i saw it and cried from laughter and my roommate was so concerned 

does not like cucumbers: same with onew 

when cameras are off: why is he like this

ot5:

bbu-syeo (뿌셔뿌셔): this is a korean snack where you pour the power flavor on the noodle crackers and break it (it’s name literally means “destroy destroy” or “crush crush”). 

shinee are models for the snack so they did a commercial in 2009 

for that one there’s a parody that some of the members uploaded themselves on social media (i believe it was key and jong) 

in 2015, minho, onew, and jonghyun came out on korea snl and also parodied it 

they also have another commercial released in 2016 

school of rock: a horror parody that boys did where they are girl students (this is where their names for GIRLnee come from though jong (jongmi , knowing brothers) and key (eungyo, snl) have different ones from other shows as well 

harry potter parody: a parody they did in 2008

the video: here 

shinee reaction 8 years later: here

monkey magic: from an snl skit in 2015, “dangerous manager” 

“show us a cool pose”: from shinee’s 5 second interview, from the part the video starts, it asks them to show a cool pose and all of the shinee members did the peace sign and taemin…… did that (also key speaks in japanese for his answers)

jams sadly: after a married to the music win, they decided to mock their own crying when they win an award 

honestly they’re just super sav bc they’ve been around for so long they don’t give a fuck and it’s hilarious to watch 

they’re the best group 

stan them, stan talent