#i know i could probably just draw and send headshots since i just want a headshot commission but like ejcnrhchgr

[phobiaexists]

The pain of seeing an artist I like being open for nitro commissions but I don’t have up-to-date ref sheets done on any of my characters that I want them to draw

[sheetzking]

♛Commission info! (Open)

this is where ill describe pricing and what i will/wont do! ill also reblog this whenever im opening comms up !!

♛ 2/2 slots open

first of all, i thought id branch out to Tumblr since i feel like im alot more comfortable on this site now, but i probably wont be opening these up that often yet, they might be available more on my Toyhouse if you were also on there since im way more active on that site :)

ill also be linking that for more art examples (my page is viewable for anyone,so feel free to browse if you need to!)

The prices below are for polished and fully coloured pieces only! if you are looking for something less pricey, i have pwyw (pay what you want) commissions also! just message me about it with the price ^^ (E.g. im interested in your PWYW commissions, i have ___ , what will that get me?)

♛

PRICES

£6 Chibi: small, compact bodies, i only do fullbodies of these since they are small and relatively lower effort.

£8 Headshots/Busts: top of the torso to the head, normally used as icons/pfps

£13 Halfbody: top half of the body (pretty self explanatory LMAO)

£18 Fullbody: All of the body, these will probably take longer than the rest since it will be more work

£21 Chibi+Fullbody page: 1 piece with atleast 3 chibis and 1 fullbody, normally with some props relating to the character to give it more...pizazz??

£23 Animated icon: animated headshot that blinks and moves their mouth (speaking,smiling,frowning,etc.) this would,obviously,take longer, especially depending on design+ whats happening in the animation

All backgrounds are free! if you want a specific background (or no background at all) let me know beforehand!

Any extra characters (in the same piece) is +£5

I have no turnaround time (sorry) but the most amount of time you could expect is...probably a month,if it isnt, i will let you know immediately!

i also have more options on my toyhouse commissions, if you wanted something specifically from that list, message or ask me :)

♛

WHAT I WILL/WONT DO

I WILL DRAW:

-SFW content

-Humanoids (any gender or appearance, animal features.etc)

-Anthro characters (im not the best at these,tbh. but ill obviously do my best!)

-Suggestive content (of humanoids only)

-Ponies

-Fanart

-Oc content (including self inserts, oc x canon, etc.)

I WILL NOT DRAW:

-NSFW/Explicit content

-Feral (anything like realistic animals, stuff like warrior cats, im just terrible at it sorry lol)

-Hateful or malicious content towards anyone or anything

-Proship/incest/anything that is illegal. i will never do anything like this.

♛

METHOD OF PAYMENT

i use paypal only! all my prices are in GBP, please be aware of this before purchasing from me :)

i will send the link to my paypal through messages AFTER i confirm the sketch is to your liking, no holds or negotiations!

♛

TERMS OF SERVICE/TOS:

-You can use my art as icons/pfps/banners, but you must credit me.

-do not repost my art to other websites without my permission.

-do not use my art for commercial use! never use my art to sell a product or to use it for profit.

-do not use my art for AI or nft purposes. do not steal my content.

-i have the right to refuse any offers, please respect that!

-i do not accept refunds, but if the art is not to your liking,i will gladly change anything about it!

♛

EXTRA INFORMATION

Thank you for reading this far and thank you for your interest,im still figuring alot of things out but i want to try harder and improve my skills! please dont feel obligated to reblog or commission me :)

im also open to art trades! feel free to ask about those,id love to get some art of my ocs :)

i highly reccomend looking through my art examples on toyhouse if you are seriously considering buying from me or trading with me! <3

sorry if i made any mistakes here! im not good with words ...

[crossover-enthusiast]

SO

I'm just gonna touch on how he gets from famous theatrical smug Meerkat to depressed and mentally unwell kat.

He was in the battle between his career/image and secret life for a LONG LONG time. But one day? He finally did the right thing. He confessed publicly to everything that he did and was promptly arrested and soon after jailed. He couldn't take the fact that he caused so much harm, he decided it was only best to do what he had to do and break the cycle.

He lost a lot of his money through suings and ended up having to give up Romeo before he was sent to jail, sending him to an animal sanctuary instead.

He was in prison for YEARS, though the sentance isn't as extreme as you'd expect cuz 1. Spooky month jail system is probably shit considering theres literal murderers and kidnappers everywhere and 2. I want to continue his story after prison so giving him too long of a sentance could take away that opportunity. Though he was still in there for at least 5 or so years.

A lot happened to him while he was in jail. He practically had a target set on him since he was a celebrity, getting beat on a fair freaking bit.

Two distinct instances include getting his leg fucked up really bad by someone beating him to the point he received a permanent leg injury. After he got out of jail he ended up getting his hands on a cane to help with that but it really is the least of his worries, it ofc comes with difficulties but he is in no way ashamed of his disability. (Speaking of which I need to draw him with his cane more, I just usually don't cuz I usually do headshots or half bodies so I don't really have that opportunity)

As for the second instance, well, I'll warn you that it covers some serious subjects that could be potentially triggering such as s/a. Such topics must be handled with respect and similarly to Roy, ignoring said parts of ones story can cause more harm then good. But of course your comfort is the most important, so skip to the red text if you aren't up to reading something mentioning those subjects. Stay safe dude

Meerkat while in prison in one instance was assaulted. It was a big factor in his diminishing confidence and was definitely something that was very hard for him to go through and that he did not at all deserve.

skip here to continue.

Anyways, once he got out of jail, he wasn't half the man he used to be. He was miserable, tired, and his authentic self was buried deep under layers of hurt. He managed to get a hold of an apartment and get a job at a coffee shop, but he was not doing well in the slightest.

I don't really know what else to share but if you have any questions, let me know!

Ohhhh damn, poor guy-

Also I'm surprised he came clean. Good for him, I suppose

Soo does he ever get back to that point he was before he went to jail, or close to it?

[saltminerising]

Running An Art Shop With Minimal Crying 101

Hey y’all, not sure what compelled me to write this Now but I wanted to put together a list of helpful ‘good business practice’ tips for artists who want to start selling commissions on FR and want to build up a good reputation and make bank. I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable throwing this on the forums personally so here you go, y’all have to look at my stupidly long possibly helpful brutally honest post cuz I don’t know where else to put this.

I’ve been doing art on FR since I was a young teenager in 2015 and through that time I’ve definitely learned some lessons the hard way. I’ve taken on more than I could handle, I’ve let commissions rot for months because I got overwhelmed… you know what I mean. Here’s some of what I’ve learned over the years that’s helped me run a consistently successful art shop for well over a year now.

I don’t have a tumblr and I don’t know how to add a ‘read more’ to a submission, so happy scrolling <3 I apologize for causing some people a very minor inconvenience

-Do not take prepayment for either more than three commissions at a time, or more than the number of commissions you think you can finish within a month or two, whichever is smaller. This is especially true if you’re like me and you have ADHD. Trust me, the more commissions people have already paid for you have piled up in your to-do list, even if they’d only take you 20 minutes each, you will get more overwhelmed and discouraged and people will wonder why it’s taking you so long. Even if you aren’t getting concerned PMs, a lot of people are just too anxious or polite to ask for updates. (On the flipside, if you commissioned someone and haven’t gotten any word/updates in a while, you’re not in the wrong to ask how things are going and when you can expect an update.)

-Full payment upfront is something I definitely recommend for smaller pieces (headshots, sketches, etc) you can finish in one sitting. However- if you’re doing a ref sheet, a rendered fullbody, etc, and you’ll be spending multiple sessions on the piece and getting feedback for it multiple times- split it up, take half upfront and half either after the sketch is approved, or before you send them the final unwatermarked version. I’ve done dozens of commissions like this and never had a problem, personally. There’s a low chance of a customer backing out on you if you’ve already started and sent WIPs because, y’know, sunk cost, and on the other hand it is reassuring to customers (especially if your shop is new) that if you drop off the map, they paid $20 upfront and got at least a sketch, instead of paying $40 upfront for an unfinished piece.

-In the same vein: if you’re doing a large piece like a rendered fullbody, ref sheet, etc, more communication is always better than less! I always stay on the safe side here. Some people will tell you they just want you to go apeshit and do whatever you think will look cool, other people might have much more specific ideas of what they want and how closely your artwork needs to match the image of their character in their head. Send them the sketch and ask them if they want any changes. Send them the lineart and ask if it looks good. If you’re working on a time-consuming painting that will take you weeks to finish, please please please, communicate! Send updates! Your customers will feel a lot less anxious about how long you’re taking if you keep them posted (plus this is just a personal thing but I love seeing peoples’ artistic process, it sparks joy!!)

-If, once again, you’re like me and stuff like painted fullbodies take you so much longer than other commission types- the worst thing you can do is underprice. Let’s say a detailed, shaded dragon fullbody takes you, for instance, 8 hours, maybe longer because you get burned out and can’t finish it in just one sitting, but you don’t think people will buy an $80/8kg fullbody. Do not lower the price you think your art is worth. If fullbodies take you really long compared to other art, or you get unmotivated, just… don’t offer painted fullbodies, or scenes with multiple characters, or whatever. If there’s a form of art you’re capable of creating but it’s faster, more fun, and gets you more money to do smaller things, just do more smaller commissions instead of taking the big ones. This one was a lifesaver for me.

-Once again in the same vein: It is okay to say no. Just because you are physically/artistically capable of drawing a detailed scene of multiple dragons with complex apparel, doesn’t mean you won’t get burnt out or bored. For me, larger pieces take exponentially longer because I just get bored and don’t want to work on them anymore. If someone asks if you can draw something that will require so much of your personal time and effort to go into a single piece, just say no. Sometimes I’ll say yes to some big commissions because I think the character is cool and inspiring and I want to draw them; otherwise, I will admit, I’ve said no to big commissions because I personally found the character boring as hell (though I wouldn’t phrase it that way). And that’s ok! 

-If you are going to be really busy in the near future, stop taking commissions. You have finals? Don’t say “sorry if things take forever, I have finals”… just don’t take the commissions while you’re busy. If you have too much on your plate, commissions will just stress you out more, and nobody likes to draw motivated by stress. There’s nothing wrong with temporarily pausing your art shop. Put your mental health first. And if you aren’t able to get commissions done on a regular basis because of mental health, or because you don’t give enough of a shit about other peoples’ characters: don’t do commissions. I don’t mean this in a bad way; I’ve been in that spot before and it’ll just cause more stress and guilt than it’s worth. 

-NO PARAGRAPHS. That sounds hypocritical of me writing this lol but do not put long paragraphs in your art shop, ever. I promise nobody will read it. Put your rules, and any other information, in bullet points that are one or two lines. Keep your rules clear, simple, unambiguous and short, or everyone will ignore it and I won’t blame them. Put titles and subtitles wherever you can. If you have a block of text longer than probably five lines, it will be ignored by most people. I have decided not to buy art from people because I didn’t want to have to dig through blocks of text for information.

….so yeah I think that’s about all I can think of at the moment. time to sit back and get yelled at for not being able to shut the fuck up and get to the point lol, hope you (yes you) have a great day c:

[fonulyn]

ok, I've seen Infinite Darkness twice already and do I understand this correctly: Claire achieved the same results as three government operatives (four? Should I take Patrick into account? I'll go back to him in a second) just by reading articles on the internet? Also, did Claire accuse Wilson based on her assumptions and then he abducted her and by that he gave her a solid proof that he was in fact behind some bad stuff.. the big brain Wilson could've just ignored her 🤣 about Patrick: such a sweetheart ❤️ criminally underrated ❤️ I thought he was going to be The Dick. He got sidelined pretty quick, though. In one scene Wilson tells Graham they should send Jason and his team to Shanghai to investigate and I thought that meant four agents because of what Patrick said before: 'there's supposed to be four of us.' And then there's the scene when Claire meets Leon and Patrick is walking beside Leon: and I thought they were going together to some kind of a meeting point but then Patrick just freaking disappears and the next time we see him is in episode 4, lol 🤣

I don't really know what you mean by "achieved the same results"? so idk if i'm responding to this correctly at all, apologies if i misunderstood something.

but like. of course I can't be exactly certain about this but I do think she did more than just google stuff. plus like, she did look for patterns where other people wouldn't look for them? the first assumption from anyone wouldn't be that oh wow the government is making BOWs and using them for their own purposes, so idek, someone else would've probably been able to find out what she did too but they just had no reason to dig. she did.

also she didn't only sit at the computer but she did go see that one soldier's home and found them with their head blown off. now to anyone else it might not mean that much but Claire lived through Raccoon City, she knows to draw the connection between zombies and headshots, so it'd definitely be more suspicious to her because of what she's gone through than it would be to some random person.

and i do think you're correct when you say she accused Wilson based on her assumptions instead of cold hard proof lol. she is the type that needs to do stuff, she needs to act, she needs to raise hell when she thinks there's something that needs to be fixed! so she went and confronted Wilson, probably in hopes of making him say something incriminating.

which is perfectly in line with how she wanted to go public with the chip. it absolutely makes sense, characterization-wise. and it also shows how she might not think everything through before acting because acting to fix problems is her first instinct. like, publicly confronting someone as dangerous as Wilson is? probably not the best move. as is shown as she gets nabbed for it.

i don't mean to criticize her, i think that it's absolutely a wonderful quality to want to change things for the better as passionately as she does! there's a lot of merit in what she's trying and doing. but she is impulsive, and looking further ahead is not her greatest strength. and i think it shows in all of her actions in ID.

lmao but yeah Wilson could've just been all "I dunno what you mean smh" and not given her the actual definite proof. or then he should've just killed her outright and not just tied her up to slap her around a bit.

haha Patrick has a ton of fans it seems tho, so maybe not that underrated. but yeah he did get sidelined quickly and i do hope that if we get a season two he'll be in it, too. because it'd be a shame if they establish a character and then only use him so little. I already think it was wasteful to kill both Jason and Shen May off so quickly tbh. there was so much more potential there.

but like, I don't think Patrick was ever a part of Jason's team. I don't even think Leon was supposed to be a part of the team but since the president trusts him so highly he was kinda tacked along so Jason needed to try to convince him to join them. in the submarine it seems they were willing to let Leon die there so I don't think it was the plan all along, it was just something that needed to be done as circumstances changed.

could be i'm misremembering something, but yeah. the team of four agents, to my understanding, was called in to the white house and then they made further plans and i feel it kind of does make sense to leave at least one man behind with the president tbh.

idek if i'm even answering to anything you said lol this is kind of a ramble :'D

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

What... did you say...?

It's been a hot, like, 2 years since I last wrote for THH or Naegiri, and man, it shows... My Makoto writing is all rusty and I hate it. This fic isn't very good by any of my usual standards, but I really wanted it out of the door, and I just remembered just how much I like Makoto, Kyoko and Naegiri. I may not have the same fervor I had for DR as I did almost 4 years ago when I started writing Febris-Induced Case, but hey... I still like those guys. I hate canon but I love those guys. It's such a weird feeling. I usually go back to V3 instead, so seeing them again... made my heart flutter a little, then realize my prompt fill sucked ass lmao. Oh well. I'll probably go back to the ship and characters later during this card; but for now, I think I at least got that one prompt out of the way. Honestly, I had to do it with a THH-inspired oneshot because, y'know, Chapter 5 is a thing and it was the glorious sick episode that got me into DR in the first place. Also, is this set Post-Canon or is it in an Everybody Lives AU? Who knows! I sure don't!

--------

Last Heartbeat

Summary: Someone is trying to kill him while he's down for the count; yet Makoto can't find the strength to move away from the danger. 

Fandom: Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc

Wordcount: 1.6K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo​

AO3 version available here.

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There’s a shadowy figure hovering over his bed.

 He doesn’t know who it could be or why they’re here – but he’s got a bad feeling about this. All he can see about them is the reflection of the moonlight in their eyes (he forgot to close the curtains before collapsing back into bed, but he’s thankful for it, now) and the way their smile shines through the darkness like white under the black light, sharp teeth threatening him.

He doesn’t know why, but there’s one feeling that’s overwhelming the rest of his sense – he needs to escape from whoever that person is, as fast and as soon as possible.

 That’s all well and dandy, but the thing is, his limbs won’t bulge. He’s trying his hardest to push him out of the bed before that person can do anything to him – he doesn’t even know if they’re armed or not – yet neither arms nor legs are responding to his desperate calls. He feels like his entire body has been covered in lead and that, in turn, seeped into his blood and flesh and made him heavier than he has any right to be.  

The light reflects in the sharp edge of a knife pointed right towards him by the mysterious figure, ready to strike at any moment, to extract the breath from his chest – but he’s already breathless, so he wonders if he hasn’t been stabbed already… but that can’t be, right? He’d have felt if the blade had struck. He’d be able to see blood flowing down it, right?

It doesn’t make sense, but he feels lightheaded and breathless, so it may just be his head playing tricks on him.

 Adrenaline kicks in before long and he manages to push himself to face the mysterious figure, legs following with a delay, as he sees their eyes: sulphuric yellow, bright and glistening, unrealistically bright even considering the lights outside – like a demon’s. Their breathing is unnaturally heavy, so close to him that he hears every crackle, every wheeze and every wet sound in it, oppressing him through merely existing and being in such a close range.

He’s now facing the figure, who has lied down on him, their knife still showing under the moonlight. Their expression is haunting, a mix of pleasure and pain like he’s never seen one before – their eyes are full of sorrow, but their teeth keep smiling, distorted in a pleased grin, a droplet of red falling down from one of them, one sharper than the blade they’re holding.

 Their intent is nefarious indeed, but his legs are trapped in the drapes and covers tangled in his feet, and he finds himself cornered by the wall against which his bed is. He attempts to flee from the sides, left, right, left, right – but the person (the creature?) flawlessly matches his pace, if they’re not actually predicting what he’s about to do, so there’s no way out there either.

With strong hands, they pin him down to the bed, preventing him from even attempting an escape. He now has a closeup view of their eyes: their pupils are slit, like a cat’s in a way, and focus directly into his despite the fact it should be impossible in a mostly dark room like that one. They emit their own light, so they can probably bypass his limits, making them invincible by default.

 His own breathing is heavy (albeit less than the creature), his hands are trembling and he’s stuck in this position, having to wait and see what the other person is going to do, even if he can guess their intentions can’t be good – he still has some hope left that it could be one giant misunderstanding. This may just be weird dream, after all, and his luck could finally be on his side for once and –

Hands wrap around his neck, cold and leathery to the touch, as the fingers dance around the edges of his jaw – he has no idea of what they’re doing, but he wishes he wasn’t so vulnerable and lethargic right about now, wishing he could recover just enough strength to get away from this dangerous situation. Their gaze is cold as it studies him, contrasting with the caustic grin, and their intent is now too clear for him to remain any optimistic about it.

 Oh my God. They can and will kill him.

 He has no idea of why someone would kill him, right now. Something tells him he must have done at least one thing to be a person to eliminate. He must know too much or snoop around too many places, and that must be displeasing to at least one individual. Kyoko did try to warn him, after all, of what sort of cases she may get on; but he didn’t mind because, simply put, he’d go through the apocalypse to be with her.

He’d very much appreciate her to be by his side, right now, considering he’s about to get killed, all alone, and it stings to think he’ll be drawing his last breath all on his own. If there was one thing he could be proud of about himself, it wasn’t any sort of talent nor ability, but his role as the heart of the class, the beacon of hope of the group as some have nicknamed him (it used to be ironic, but it grew on people); so, now that he’d need someone to pay him the favour back (now that he ever thought of it that way, but you know…), there’s nobody by his side and he’s left facing a demon in the darkness.

And that’s when one realization strikes him.

 He’s going to die alone.

 He’s going to die right here and ow without having had the opportunity to see all of the people he loves one last time and to tell them how grateful he was for every single one of them.

He won’t have the chance to hug Komaru one last time and tell her how she’s the best sister ever.

He won’t have the chance to thank his parents for their love and support, for comforting him in times of needs.

He won’t have the chance to tell the class he loved being their classmate and friend, how he spent some of the best years of his life with them, how they were the best thing to happen to him.

He won’t have the chance to tell Kyoko that… that…

 The fingers around his throat slowly move from his neck to his head, eyes glancing into his, still burning with hellish flames, albeit suddenly expressionless, evoking nothing in his panicked mind. The person’s breathing gets heavier and heavier as his starts to disappear, second by second, as his own breath is starting to run short. He’d try to fight against it if his limbs weren’t, again, too heavy to move, too stiff to use, especially in a situation like that – adrenaline isn’t enough to save him, now.

And there he is, dying in his bed, slain during a moment where he was too vulnerable to escape. It’s sad, sad thing; but at least, it’ll be a quick and easy death, if it comes to it.

 --------------------------------

 He wakes up to the soft light of the sun peeking through the curtains and the faint scent of lavender. The air is soft and a little cool, unlike what he can vaguely remember having felt before – only to jolt up when he remembers he shouldn’t even be alive to think that.

Two hands push him back into the bed, gentle yet firm. He doesn’t need to think much (and thank goodness for that, his head is heavy and feels like it could split in half if he used it too much) to know who this is, smile a little at the realization, then get even more confused about how he landed in this dream-like situation.

 “Stay put,” Kyoko tells him in this tone that only her voice has, the one that’s stoic yet caring, in a way he can’t quite describe.

“B-but… I…”

He coughs, loudly, and his laboured breathing reminds him of something: the person’s, the creature’s.

“Everything’s okay, Makoto. You’ve just gone through a terrifying night. Everything else is fine. You’re still here.”

 Her words are making him think a little more rationally about what felt like his death: it must have been a nightmare he didn’t wake up from. That’s weird, because usually, he’d wake up when he’d pass away in his dream, only to jump awake, drenched in sweat. The apocalypse happening before everyone’s eyes hasn’t helped.

“I don’t know what you saw while I was tending to you, even if I can imagine a version of it.”

He’s used to comforting Kyoko, not the other way around. She used to be very much uneasy with it, stumbling with her words and preferring silent gestures to words – which she still does and does very well at that with people she’s opened to – but she’s trying her best, he can tell.

“All I can tell you is that you were trying to escape from me but couldn’t.” She puts a damp washcloth on his forehead, prompting him to notice she isn’t wearing her gloves. “I assume you mistook me for someone else while I was simply trying to keep your fever in check.”

 So, the figure… wasn’t trying to kill him, then.

“That’s probably it,” he replies with a cough interrupting him. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s fine. Please tell me about it if you feel like it. I want to understand what happened when you pushed me away.”

“Will do,” he gives her the biggest smile he call pull off.

[anninhiliation]

Circles

60 Follower Writing Challenge @you-kinda-smell-like-christmas

Congratulations on the 60 followers!😍🥰😈 I bet you have so many more by now (Since this started like a month ago sdhfjksfhskj)😈👀🥵

Masterlist     Going Under

Wordcount: 2.6k+

We couldn't turn around

'Til we were upside down

I'll be the bad guy now

“Why am I mad?” I huffed as I angrily tossed my purse on the kitchen counter “Oh I don’t know, maybe because I caught my boyfriend staring at another girl’s chest practically drooling then had the audacity to walk over to her to flirt as if I was nothing as if we were nothing! I swear to god every time you leave for tour you probably bring some whore into bed with you!” I fumed as I walked away from him

I noticed his body language stiffen, as my last words burned his ears. Chris tried to remain calm, as he placed his keys on the small metal hook. He took a deep breath before turning to face me.

“Nena are you jealous?” Chris questioned in an accusing tone as he followed close behind me into the family room "that girl was a fan and I was just saying hi” he explained trying to lessen the tension as I continued to walk away, towards the foyer.

“Yea just saying hi with all those arm touches, looking her up and down, kissing her cheek- I swear to god Chris if I wasn’t there you would have probably let her come to bed with you!” I shouted as I took off my heels placing them in the small closet and rubbed my feet.

“Mi Amor I'm sorry, I promise it was all harmless” Chris sighed as he placed his hands on my shoulders, going in to massage them "Vos sabes que yo te amo y nunca quiero hacer algo para lastimarte"

I flinched away, moving his hands away from me and walked up the stairs. 

"Stop lying to me, and to you because we both know none of that is true” I mumbled from halfway up the stairs

But no, I ain't too proud

I couldn't be there

Even when I try

You don't believe it

I had locked myself in our shared bedroom and proceeded with my night routine. Before getting into bed I heard a soft knock on the door. 

“Chris” I whined “I’m done with this for the night”

“Nena, can we please talk about this?” He pleaded as I rolled to my side facing away from the door

“Chris I’m done for the night” I sighed

“Can you at least open the door...por favor nena” Chris implored

“Can’t you just sleep on the couch tonight  I don’t want to deal with this anymore” I groaned

I heard Chris mumble something from outside the door before turning away and going back downstairs. 

We do this every time

Seasons change and our love went cold

Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away

I tossed and turned all night unable to fall asleep with the fight with Chris still beating through my thoughts. I huffed as I tore the covers off of me, slipping on one of Chris’s sweatshirts and opened the door. Guilt pooled my body as I saw a now cold tea mug on the ground. I sighed, picking it up and making my way downstairs. Chris laid sound asleep on the white couch in the living room. I placed the cup on the coffee table and snuggled in next to him. His arm instinctively wrapped around my lower waist and held me close. I melted under his touch, as I heard him let out a content sigh. 

“Chris?” I almost inaudibly whispered

“¿Si?” He mumbled 

I wiggled around under his arm, turning to face him. His sleepy big brown eyes met mine as he waited for me to continue. My hand intertwined with his high lighted locks as I gently played with his hair. 

“I’m sorry mi amor” I sighed “I overreacted”

One thing lead to another, and our lips came crashing onto each other. My leg wrapped around his waist as Chris moved making me fall onto my back as he hovered his body over mine. He kissed my neck hitting my sweet spot making a soft whimper escape my lips. Chris tugged my sweatshirt off, as I yanked off his shirt. He kissed my collar bone and down my body. Heat flooded down to my core as I tugged on his locks begging for more. 

“Papi...I need you” I moaned as fingers grabbed the hem of my panties

“Fuck Nena” He groaned as he pulled the fabric down exposing my soaked entrance slipping a finger in drowning it in my arousal. 

He nipped my inner thighs before kitten licking my wet folds sending me on a cloud of pleasure. 

“Chris” I whimpered as I tugged on his soft locks 

He tugged on my bundle of nerves before drawing stars on it. My headshot back as my toes curled as he did all the right things to my core. Slipping two fingers in and curling them at the right angle. 

“Papi” I whimpered 

Chris changed the pattern to figure eights as he pumped harder. Two fingers stretched me out nicely enough to please me, but not enough to fulfill me tonight. 

“Papi I need more...I need you inside me” I begged as I grew desperate

He let out a groan as he pulled his mouth away from me. Chris lowered his boxers and wasted no time inserting himself inside me. I let out a fulfilled moan and scratched down his back as his first thrust threw me into the stars. We kissed desperately letting out all of our unspoken emotions. His tip pounded into my inner sweet spot as he moved his lips to my lower neck. A knot formed in my lower stomach as he nipped my warm skin. 

“Papi...I’m close” I whimpered as my hands found their way back into his hair

“Cum for me nena” He grunted as his thrusts lost their tempo

I let the knot to snap, as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My thighs shook and toes curled as Chris rode me out. His name escaped my lips as I hit my highest point. I felt a warm liquid shoot inside me as Chris let go of his own orgasm. He slowly pulled out of me and laid back down next to me. His arm grabbed my lower ribcage and pulled me closer. My head snuggled on to his other bicep as he kissed the top of my head.

“Te amo nena” He whispered before the two of us drifted off to sleep

I dare you to do something

I'm waiting on you again

So I don't take the blame

We went three consecutive days after that without fighting, arguing, or bickering at each other. Tonight, we decided to celebrate how well their promos were going and hit the club. As soon as the door opened, the Latin music enveloped everyone's ears. Chris ordered us a drink, which turned into two, then three. I grinded on him, as the music possessed my body and the alcohol pumped through my veins. I barely noticed he left my side when a warm pair of hands wrapped around my waist making my hips sway onto his. 

“I've been watching you all night and damn ma you got some moves” an unfamiliar voice growled in my ear

“Chris your voice sounds funny” I giggled 

But before I could piece together that the man standing behind me wasn't Chris, my arm was yanked and I was pulled off the dance floor. 

“Nena I leave you alone for one second and you already find yourself someone new? Yet, I am the one who is always accused of bringing someone back to the hotel with me, and that I am the cheater!” Chris huffed as we walked outside of the club “I swear to god, nena I have never even kissed a fan on the cheek and I take your hurtful words and never say anything! But I am tired of this double standard you set up.” By the end of his rant, Chris was left panting and red. 

His words felt like someone had shoved a knife through me and twisted it. His facial expression, the darkness in his eyes petrified me to the point where  I ran off. I hid in the crowds of people hearing him scream my name. 

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away, run away

I stopped running when I reached my favorite diner. The warm familiar smell and faces soothed my nerves. As a hostess who always took the night shifts walked me to my usual table. 

“I’m surprised you and your boyfriend didn’t come in here together tonight. He’s been waiting for you ya’know” She cheered with a friendly smile as she walked me to my booth

My breathing hitched as I saw Chris look up at me from the booth. He was less tense than before, as he watched me slide into the opposite end of the booth.

“What are you doing?” I questioned 

“Nena, I've been thinking for a while and we need to talk” He sighed as his hand rubbed his face and dragged it down, a thing he only did was he was nervous and stressed.

Let go

I got a feeling that it's time to let go

I say so

I knew that this was doomed from the get-go

I bit my bottom lip and bounced my leg quietly as I felt bad news headed my way.

“What is it?” I finally questioned as I toyed with the menu trying to distract myself from what was yet to come

“Lo Siento cariño” He sighed dodging my eye contact “but we need to break up.” he finally choked out as he looked out the window

“What? Why?” I gasped, thinking back to all the times we broke up in the past.

 But this time he sounded and acted differently, sending a pit to my stomach. 

“Nena...all we do is fight.” He explained making me quirk an eyebrow “We are always arguing, pissing the other one-off, estoy cansado nena.”

“We always make up  at the end of every fight” I quietly protested

You thought that it was special, special

But it was just the sex though, the sex though

And I still hear the echoes (the echoes)

“Nena we never made up we just fuck” Chris pointed out locking eyes with me

I broke eye contact looking down at my hands, fidgeting one of my rings. He was right after every argument one of us would come crawling back to the other apologizing and the apology would always end in us cumming. The sex was always intense, as the two of us would let out all of our pent up anger, and other bottled emotions. 

“You’re acting different this time” I blurted out “Is this...the last time?”

“I’m afraid so nena...we are no good for each other and it has to end” He stated grimly

I got a feeling that it's time to let it go

Let it go

Seasons change and our love went cold

Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away

After that night, I took all of my things and moved out staying in with a friend until I found my new apartment in the middle of the city. We never texted or called after our agreement to stay away from each other for our own health. He even blocked me on all social media platforms canceling out any temptations we might have had. Three months had gone by since I last saw Chris and even started moving on. My life was going great until I heard a knock on my door. I opened the door and my heart sunk to the ground. Chris awkwardly stood in my doorway, taking in the new environment and subtle changes I did to my appearance.  

“Hey nena” he finally spoke as I moved away letting him in.

I dare you to do something

I'm waiting on you again

So I don't take the blame

“What are you doing here Chris?” I puzzled as I closed the door crossing my hands over my chest

“I missed you nena” He started once again, we picked up where we left off. He slammed me against the wall, in a pang of desperate hunger. 

“Fuck nena” He groaned as he lifted my hair and nipped my neck remembering where my sweet spot was.

I melted under his touch, feeling a pool forming between my legs. We quickly ripped off each other’s clothes throwing them aimlessly around the apartment slowly making it to the bedroom. Chris pushed me to the bed as he slammed himself inside me. It had been months since I’ve had him and his full size inside me, making me wince a little. Chris noticed as he kept himself slow letting me adjust before going at our old pace. The sex was rough and quick, as we desperately chased our relief wanting to see the familiar galaxy the two of us sent each other to.

Maybe you don't understand what I'm going through

It's only me, what you got to lose?

Make up your mind, tell me, what are you gonna do?

It's only me, let it go

I laid on his chest, tracing his tattoo as I listened to his heartbeat calm down. 

“Chris...can I ask you something?” I started trying to muster up some courage to find the truth

“Whats up nena?” He responded as his hand softly rubbed my lower back

“Did you come back for sex or for me?” I blurted out as I looked him in the eye “I hate to ask like that because its been three months and I need to know” I cut myself off not wanting to mention I had gone on a few dates with someone and it seemed like he would want to take things to the next level and officially start dating.

“Nena I came back for you...it was hard to find you” Chris whispered as he kissed the top of my head “I missed you so much nena”

Seasons change and our love went cold

Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away

I woke up to the sun gently piercing through the shades and a missing body that was supposed to be next to me. 

“Chris?” I called out 

No response, making me jump out of the bed taking the bed sheet with me. 

“Chris?” I called out again, as I searched around the apartment. 

I stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed he was nowhere to be found and not a single text or scribbled note was left. Feeling like a complete idiot I decided to reach out to him. 

What the hell I thought when my text didn’t go through

I hit his number and decided to call instead but was sent straight to voice mail. Confused, I checked his Instagram and he still had me blocked. Tears flooded my eyes when I pieced everything together. He did not come back to build a new relationship. He came back because he caught the scent of me starting something new with someone new. I had been moving on from him and he couldn’t handle that, so he came back into my life just to leave again.

I dare you to do something

I'm waiting on you again

So I don't take the blame

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away, run away

[kenzieam]

Linked - Chapter Two

Rating: M (smut, language, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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Bucky and Levi find themselves connected through tragedy, can they let go of the past to find their future????

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I have not added to this since last September, shame on me!! Reread Chapter One here and let me know if I should continue with the story.

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WHAT ARE YOU DOING? The voice in Bucky’s head screamed. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY NO! DANGER, DANGER! You don’t want to get involved with this! She doesn’t want you; YOUR WIFE KILLED HER HUSBAND... HER HUSBAND KILLED YOUR WIFE. WALK AWAY!

His mind was screaming loud enough that it wouldn’t surprise Bucky if Levi could actually hear his thoughts and he winced internally as he caught sight of her hand, clutching white-knuckle tight to her messenger bag.

Shit.

Despite his misgivings, Bucky nevertheless sat at the table the hostess indicated, pausing awkwardly as he debated holding out Levi’s chair for her. She sat quickly, however, as if expecting him to offer and not wanting it. King clamored into his own chair; reaching for a menu, asking for a chocolate milk and maintaining a rundown of the best parts of their game all at the same time and Bucky couldn’t hide a smile. He would rather rip his tongue out by the roots than admit it, especially in his present company, but King had become very precious to him in a short amount of time and he very much looked forwards to seeing the little guy. Maria had been totally against the subject of children, but Bucky had always wanted to be a dad. He needed to be careful though, he knew, for this was a minefield he wasn’t sure he would ever be either ready or able to walk through.

“What do you want, Coach? I want pizza!”

“King, keep it down.” Levi chastised gently.

“Sorry, mom.”

“It’s alright, just use your inside voice, okay?”

“Okay.”

Levi’s eyes flicked unwillingly towards him. “What do you want, Mr. Barnes?” She asked softly, sounding nervous.

Jesus, doll. You. “Call me Bucky, please. Pizza sounds good...?” Bucky offered shyly.

Pizza safely ordered (half-pepperoni, half-Hawaiian – gross, mom!), Bucky cleared his throat and asked tentatively, his heart hammering in fear. “How are you liking it here so far?”

Levi looked startled for a micro-second before answering. “It’s nice. I met Nat and Steve right away, so that made everything so much easier, I-” a loud chime interrupted her, and she flushed. “Sorry.”

Bucky watched as Levi reached down and rustled in her messenger bag, pulling out a tablet and tapping quickly at it before tucking it back inside.

“Sorry about that,” she repeated. “That was a client.”

“What do you do?” Bucky blurted, his nerves loosening his tongue. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s alright. I’m a graphic designer; but lately I’ve been designing a lot of book covers.”

“Like novels?”

“Yeah, just small time. First-time authors, independents, people that haven’t really made it big yet.”

“How does that work?”

Levi flushed, glancing down at her glass before answering, her fingers toyed with the condensation forming at the base, drawing small but enchanting patterns. “I’m compiling a catalogue of images and pictures of subjects; I snagged some professional editing software a while ago and can manipulate a stock image fairly realistically. Some are live models, others are no-license. The client emails me what they’re looking for, I make something up and send them a few choices; it’s fairly straightforward really.”

“Live models... like pictures of real guys, like Fabio?”

Levi giggled, a sound that arrowed straight into Bucky’s heart. “Not that famous, but a few wannabe models have let me take their picture, usually in exchange for a series of headshots. They get their portfolio; I get a few brooding pics.”

“Shirtless?” Bucky wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but the idea intrigued him.

“Yes, mostly. Why, are you volunteering?” Levi snapped her mouth shut in shock. What the fuck is gotten into you?

Now Bucky flushed, eyes flicking to Levi’s for a heartbeat; a shy grin pulling at his mouth and the sight arrowed straight into Levi’s heart. “Think I’d make it?”

Fuck, yeah. But I don’t want to share. "I think you’d do. Romance readers love a dark and handsome mystery.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Bucky teased, loving the way Levi’s face went so adorably red, her amethyst eyes widening as she realized her slip.

Finally, the universe took pity; Levi was saved from answering by the arrival of their pizza and King’s triumphant shout.

The next few minutes were spent eating, King devouring his slice with typical 5-year-old gusto.

“How do you like coaching so far?” Levi asked, wiping tomato sauce from her bottom lip, something Bucky suddenly and desperately wanted to do with his tongue.

Bucky struggled to focus on her question and not her plump lips and what they would look like wrapped around his cock.

What the fuck, dude???

“A lot actually. I didn’t expect to, honestly; I was just going to help Steve out a bit. I played soccer in high school and a bit for my university team, so I guess he figured I knew what I was doing.”

“You played for your university? You must have been good.”

Bucky flushed. “Yeah,” he hedged, unsure whether he should mention that he had already been drafted in the pros. “But I busted up my knee pretty bad and decided to get out.”

“That must have sucked.” Lev offered quietly, looking surprisingly upset at the news.

Bucky nodded, clearing his throat. “I lucked out with a good surgeon. I signed up for the military and, after a couple of tours I got out and into security. Mostly I just consult now.”

“Is that how you met Steve?”

Bucky couldn’t stop a wide smile. “Yeah, he wanted me to review and streamline the security system for his business.” He hesitated before adding, “I was always pretty mobile with that anyways, consulting all over the country, sometimes the world. I didn’t need to stay in one place, so... it made it easier when I decided to move… after-”. He broke off, Levi would know exactly what he meant without him spelling it out.

“Yes.” Came her quiet reply. “I understand... About that, did you ever-”

“No.” Bucky kept his voice gentle even as his heart raced. “Not now, please.”

Levi nodded shyly, her cheeks going pink. King had fallen silent, looking between the two adults, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a pizza slice forgotten in his hand.

Levi sent Bucky a beseeching look. She’d not told King who Bucky was. At most, he knew that his coach’s wife had died, but he didn’t know that she’d taken his father with her.

“Nothing, buddy.” Bucky grinned in King’s direction, but Levi could see the faint tightening at the corners of his eyes. Fortunately, King, who was uncannily observant, even for a child, took Bucky’s lie at face value and happily tucked back into his pizza.

‘Sorry,’ Levi mouthed, and Bucky shook his head gently, returning quietly to his pizza.

Lev refused to let Bucky pay for full bill, insisting on half and completely crushing any thoughts that this had been anything but an entirely platonic meal.

But, whether by luck or serendipity, they found themselves again at May’s after the next game, sharing a table due to King’s enthusiastic ‘Coach! Sit with us!’ that he’d bellowed across the room.

The third time was planned, and Levi felt herself almost ashamed at how much she began to look forward to aftergame pizza with Coach Barnes.

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

King ran ahead, hollering at the top of his lungs to his teammates, who shouted and yelled back. Levi followed behind, trudging really, she’d not gotten much sleep last night, and stumbled, biting back a surprised squawk, when a soccer ball connected suddenly with her temple. She staggered, clutching at her head but the ball hadn’t been flying with too much force and it had startled her more than anything else.

“Hey!” Bucky appeared like magic, the offending ball in his hands. He touched her shoulder, peering into her face with concern. “You okay?”

Lev nodded, not wanting to make a scene, she probably could have avoided being hit if she’d been more cognizant of the field, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Fucking Seymour. I’ll handle this.” He marched over to the nearby group of players and spoke in low, furious tones to them, starting in on their coach, obviously the maligned Seymour, when he bumbled over, trying to cover up the fact that he’d been too busy playing Candy Crush on his phone to monitor his players.

Lev continued walking, almost scurrying, picking up speed to avoid any other flying missiles and sat gratefully on her usual spot at the bleachers. Her eyes drifted to find Bucky,he was still speaking to the other coach and it was starting to look heated, but then Bucky took a visible deep breath and stepped back, obviously pulling himself away before things got out of hand. His eyes searched for her and he exhaled noticeably once he found her, moving unerringly to her side, concern evident on his handsome face.

“You okay?” He murmured, reaching up to brush where the ball had connected. His touch left goosebumps in its wake and Lev hissed at the contact, at the tingle of energy that frizzled between his fingertips and her skin. He seemed to feel it too, eyes widening slightly and pulled his hand away, not fully dropping it, gaze searching hers. “Lev?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention-” Levi ducked her head.

“Not your fault.” He retorted curtly. “Wayne Seymour needs to be watching his players better.” He visibly exhaled out his mounting irritation and leaned down to meet her eyes again. His brows drew together in question and he looked so startingly puppy-dog at that moment that Lev forgot how to breathe.

“James, I’m fine.”

His brows jumped slightly, nobody called him by his given name, he always corrected them and told them to call him Bucky, but hearing Lev say it made something inside him sit up and pay attention. Reluctantly, he drew away; he had to start coaching but right now he wanted nothing more than to stay beside her.

His hand, drifting without official orders, rested lightly on her knee for a beat before he pulled it away, startled by his actions. It wouldn’t do for the coach to be seen touching one of the player’s moms, but his hand suddenly ached as it was drawn away, tingling to touch her again.

“Pizza tonight?” He asked, stumbling over his words.

Lev studied him for a beat, her cheeks going adorably red. “We’ll see you there.” She replied softly.

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

“Coach, can you come to my party?!” King asked excitedly, bouncing in his chair like it was a small trampoline.

Bucky took the empty chair at the table, mouthing a ‘Hey’ to Lev before focusing on King. “What’s that, Little Man?” He’d heard King babbling something about this during drills earlier, but he’d still been so caught up in Levi being hit that he hadn’t paid much attention.

“My birthday!”

Lev hushed King with a low shushing sound. “His sixth birthday, I’m planning a small get-together this weekend; King’s teammates, some school friends and their parents. You’re certainly invited, can you make it?”

“Of course.” He grinned down at King. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Yay!!”

“Kingston Sebastian Riel!” Levi hissed. “Tone it down.”

“Sebastian?”

“His father and I couldn’t agree. Brock wanted Kingston, I wanted Sebastian. We ‘compromised’.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

“I love that name.” Bucky smiled. That had been his name, whenever he’d indulged in picturing having children with Maria, naming his son ‘Sebastian Barnes’.

“I don’t need to use it very often; King usually knows how to behave in restaurants.” Lev replied, eyeing her son.

“Sorry, mom. Sorry, Coach.”

Lev’s serious demeanor broke and she ruffled his hair. “Inside voice, remember. I know you’re excited but we’re not the only people here, right?”

“Yes, mom.”

Bucky gazed at Lev while pretending to peruse the menu. She wasn’t like some of the other mothers out there, that let their kids get away with murder, ignored the little darlings as they ran around screaming and disturbing people, getting in screaming matches with bystanders that told her to rein in her offspring. She loved her son, that was obvious, and she loved him enough to actually parent him. That distinction mattered to Bucky, something that he probably would have argued with Maria about, had she ever agreed to having children. She had been raised to believe herself always correct, her parents always backing her, no matter if she was right or wrong in any situation, and it had chafed Bucky at times; something he found he could reflect back on now, with time, although with no less diminished guilt at remembering your dead spouse as anything but an absolute water-walking saint.

“Mom, I have to go to the bathroom.” King announced. When Lev moved to stand, he continued. “I can go myself.”

Lev looked torn, then nodded slowly. “Wash your hands.”

King nodded once then disappeared.

“What can I bring?” Bucky asked.

“Sorry, what?” Lev pulled her attention away from the direction King had gone, focusing back on Bucky.

“What can I bring to King’s party?”

“Oh,” Lev cleared her throat, thinking for a moment. “Beer? If you want to drink any, I don’t have a lot hanging around and… I’m not sure how many are coming, but maybe a chair too. The backyard is pretty big and there should be room, but you never know.”

“Any food?”

“No, thank you. I’ve got it.” Lev’s lips curled in a small smile and Bucky wasn’t surprised to feel his heart skip suddenly in his chest. This had been happening more and more around her and he was losing the strength to fight it.

“What does the Little Man want?”

“You don’t need-”

“I want to.”

Lev chewed her bottom lip before answering. “He talks a lot about some ‘Ronaldo’ guy?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve heard him during practices. Cristiano Ronaldo, he’s a famous Portuguese soccer player. Think he’d like a jersey?”

“He’d probably never take it off. But James, seriously-”

Bucky leaned forwards suddenly, resting his hand onto of Levi’s and startling her silent. “Please. I’d like to.” A little awkwardly, he pulled his hand back, straightening slowly in his chair, cheeks heating.

“Do you have any children, James?” She asked, abruptly but not unkindly.

“No.”

“Did you ever want any?”

Bucky traced the edge of his glass, staring hard at the liquid inside. This seemed both an insanely private question to ask, but also one he didn’t mind answering, at least for her. “Yes. Maria-”

“I’m back!” King announced, as if he’d trekked to Papua New Guinea and was just now arriving home, footsore and weary from outrunning cannibals.

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, mom.”

A part of Bucky was insanely grateful when the pizza arrived moments later, and he was saved from further discussion of children he’d wanted but never had the chance to have.

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

Lev opened the door, a slight look of panic on her face and smiled widely when she saw who it was.

“Bucky, hey! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

He’d thought about it; for some reason, after their last pizza ‘date’, he’d spiraled down into a dark shame, one he’d not felt since those early months immediately after Maria’s death. It must have been because of Lev’s question, harmless as it was for someone you could consider a friend, someone you shared dinner with on the semi-regular now, to ask; but it had triggered something inside him, a buried guilt, a hidden tangle of emotions he’d been too afraid to grab and study up close, but King meant too much to him to bail and, if he was being honest with himself, Levi did too.

“Sorry I’m late-”

“No, it’s fine! I’m just a little-… I haven’t had a get-together like this since before…” She broke off, cheeks going pink and Bucky knew immediately what she meant, how she felt.

“Here, let me take that-” Bucky reached for the bags of chips grasped tightly in her fingers but she pulled away.

“No, thank you, it’s fine. You’ve got your hands full too.” She said, jerking her chin at the six-pack of beer and folded lawn-chair taking up most of his hands. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, gifting Bucky with a genuine smile. “Thank you for coming, I’m glad you’re here; and King’s going to go crazy.”

Their eyes met and held for a heartbeat and something warm flashed in Lev’s gaze, something that matched the tentative eagerness burning low in Bucky’s chest.

“C’mon in.” Levi shook herself slightly, as if breaking out of a trance and smiled a bit nervously. “I’ll be right out, just head on through the kitchen and out the back door. Everyone’s out there, you’ll see Steve and Nat right away.”

“Okay, thanks.” Bucky tried not to look as Levi sashayed in front of him, unaware of how the natural sway of her hips made adult thoughts flood his mind. Maria had not had curves like this, she’d been almost fanatical about calorie counting and restriction, resulting in a toned but unwelcomely bony body under Bucky’s caresses, but Lev was curvy, deliciously so, in all the right places. He didn’t mean to compare, but Maria had lamented to him many times about all the squats and lunges she did and how she still never achieved an ass even close to what Lev seemed to have naturally. His hands ached to touch her soft skin, trace her delicate lines and supple curves, lose himself in her feminine body.

A chorus of greetings hit him as he stepped outside and Steve launched himself at him, tearing Bucky from his musing as he prepared to collide against a brick wall, reaching Bucky in about two bounds; half-dragging him towards where he and Nat were seated, managing to yank the beer from his hands, open Bucky’s chair, push him to sit in it and slap him on the shoulder all at the same time.

A lot of the parents and kids Bucky realized he knew, mostly from soccer, and Nat and Steve introduced him to the rest. Most of the kids were screaming like banshees in a large bouncy castle set up in the corner of the yard, while others ran around holding all sorts of toy, shrieking at each other at the top of their little lungs.

Two tousled heads of hair, one chocolate brown, the other blond suddenly appeared at Bucky’s side, waving foam swords and screeching his name. It took Bucky a moment to recognize Steve’s boy, Hunter, and King, and then King was scrambling into his lap like a puppy, narrowly missing his balls.

“Coach! COACH!” He bellowed, as if Bucky were miles away across a shadowy moor and they were reduced to using only their voices for communication.

“Hey, Little Man.” Bucky leaned back from the dangerously waving weapon, thighs tensed to protect his jewels. He caught Steve’s smirk at his situation but then Hunter decided to do the same, leaping into Steve’s lap with the same reckless enthusiasm as King and Steve was suddenly too preoccupied trying to protect his own nads from destruction.

“You came to my party!”

“Yeah, buddy. I did.”

Grubby hands unexpectedly wrapped around his neck and Bucky suddenly didn’t care about anything else. Wrapping his arms around King, he basked in the little boy’s enthusiasm, the fondness for this child he’d held in his chest sharpening into something far more profound and intense.

When King finally scrambled back down and bounded away to rejoin his gang of rabble-rousers; Steve, who’d managed to detach his own son and send him on his criminal way as well, slapped his shoulder and grinned widely at him, making Bucky’s cheeks go pink.

Other parents eyed him with small smiles as well, making Bucky clear his throat self-consciously, and then Lev was back, falling into the empty chair beside Bucky with a laugh and a groan and his attention was immediately diverted, pulse beating just a little bit harder as he caught a hint of her scent; reminding him of sunshine and meadows of beautiful wildflowers.

Lev seemed more relaxed and a small, fleeting part of Bucky hoped it was because of him, but he pushed the thought away quickly. He couldn’t feed this wolf anymore; he couldn’t keep up with this idea that there was something between him and Lev. They were joined by tragedy, united by death and that was as far as it should go.

But if that was the way it was supposed to be, why was he so drawn to her? To her son? Why had he found his thoughts turning more and more to them, rushing into his mind first thing in the morning, the last scene to play in front of his eyes before he closed them at night?

Why, if this wasn’t ever supposed to be his, did he want it so badly?

Despite his turmoiled mind, there was enough going on in the backyard for him to push it aside, at least pretend it wasn’t gnawing insidiously at his brain and Bucky was surprised when he started to enjoy himself. He had avoided large crowds, big gatherings, since Maria’s death and had never truly been a social butterfly of his wife’s caliber anyway but, before he realized it, a few hours had passed and even the kids were starting to wind down.

King had looked adorable, pink-cheeked and grinning, as he sat in front of his cake, blowing out the candles with not too much spit thankfully, when his guests had finished singing. Some friend of Nat and Lev’s had made it, and had tasted surprisingly good, although the almost neon icing had taken more than a few hard sucks to completely pull the stain from your fingers.

Each present had been worth a cacophony of yells from both the birthday boy and his guests, but it had been the last one, Bucky’s gift that seemed to have the showstopper. When King had opened the gift bag and pulled out the pint-sized Ronaldo jersey, his eyes had gone huge and, when Lev had leaned over, murmuring to him who it was from, the little boy’s eyes had searched the crowd for Bucky and he’d scrambled from his chair to launch himself at him, crashing into his arms with a howl of pure excited glee.

“Thank you!” As fast as he’d landed in Bucky’s lap, King had again scrambled away, tearing off his shirt to yank on the jersey before snatching the new soccer ball from Uncle Steve and Aunty Nat and scampering away, leading a whole posse of screaming kids behind him

“Good job, man.” Steve murmured, leaning over to Bucky’s ear.

 King had then bounded up to him, begging him and Uncle Steve to come play soccer with him and Hunter, and that had taken up Bucky’s attention until Lev called a game over and Bucky had finally looked around, realizing that almost everyone was gone.

 “Mom. MOM?!” Hunter bellowed, running up to Nat. “Can King stay over? PLEASE?” He grabbed onto Nat’s shirt and tilted his head up, sending her an angelic look that left no doubt as to who his father was. Steve had used that same pleading puppy-dog look on Bucky last weekend when he’d begged him to help move an obnoxiously heavy fridge from his garage to the dump.

Nat glanced up at Lev, brow raised, and Lev smiled, shrugging. “If you think you can handle both little monsters tonight, go ahead.”

“Get your stuff, buddy.” Nat grinned.

“YAY!!” Both boys screamed, dashing into the house, barely avoiding a crash as they both tried to fit through the doorway into the house at the same time.

Bucky hovered, knowing he should be leaving but not able to muster the energy. He wanted to stay, even a bit longer and so far no one had zeroed in on him and demanded to know what he was still doing here. He watched with a fond smile as the boys reappeared, carrying an assortment of varied weapons and miscellany and shooting at each other with small Nerf guns.

“Did you pack any clothes?” Lev asked dryly, snagging King by the back of his shirt as he scampered by. He was still wearing the Ronaldo jersey.

“Clothes?” King asked, confused, peering up at his mother as if she’d suddenly started speaking a new language and Lev smirked. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Have fun today?” Nat asked Bucky innocently, stepping over to lean her back against Steve’s chest, who immediately wrapped his arms around her and dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head as he too awaited Bucky’s answer, a cat that got the canary grin on his big stupid face.

“Yeah, didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Insane?” Steve suggested.

“Loud.” Bucky finished. “I should know better, coaching half of them but still…”

“You’ll get used to it.” Nat replied, a knowing gleam in her eyes that made Bucky frown in confusion at her. Steve mumbled something in her ear, brow furrowed, and she just giggled, pressing a kiss to his chin and whispering back.

Lev reappeared, carrying a small backpack shaped like a Stegosaurus and called King to her. He skipped up, becoming serious when Lev dropped to one knee and gripped his upper arms gently, whispering earnestly and probably telling him to behave tonight. After a moment, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and the boy made a show of squirming away and wiping at his face, but the delighted grin on his face showed his true feelings.

A few minutes later, both yelling boys had been herded into the SUV and Bucky found himself standing alone beside Lev, waving as Steve and Nat backed out of the driveway and drove off with a honk.

“I should go.” Bucky mumbled, wanting to do anything but. He’d been spared any comments by Steve and Nat as they’d bundled the boys into the vehicle, but that didn’t mean he’d be safe later from any ‘observations’ they’d make of how he’d stayed later than them.

“NO,” Lev’s cheeks went pink “I mean…. stay for a bit, please. Today was so crazy we didn’t get any real chance to talk-” She trailed off uncertainly, her cheeks full on red now, matching the heat in Bucky’s face.

Twist my rubber arm, doll.

“Sure, okay.” He exhaled a little shakily, timidly, lips curving into a smile at Lev’s delighted grin.

“Go grab a seat, I’ll be right back.”

Bucky nodded, venturing into the backyard and sitting on the high-backed bench closest to the freestanding patio heater. The warm glow was comforting against the beginnings of twilight chill, while a firepit squatted nearby, ready to be lit as well.

Levi returned a few minutes later, carrying two bottles of beer and a blanket under one arm; then, after the briefest pause to peruse seating, plunked down on the same bench with Bucky and handed him a bottle.

“Here, try this.” She grinned. “An old friend of mine got me started on these oatmeal stouts; I didn’t have enough to go around.” She pulled the blanket between them. “Cold?”

Bucky gestured with his chin to the heater. “Nah, I’m good.”

Lev smiled, turning to face him and pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged. She squirmed for a moment to adjust the cushion at her back then opened the blanket to lay over her lap and settled back with a sigh.

“Thank you for staying.” She said quietly. “It’s nice to just sit down for a few minutes.”

“No problem.” Bucky mumbled, hiding his please grin behind another swallow. “This is good.” He nodded to the sweating bottle in his hand.

“I know, right?” Lev smiled, then fell silent, regarding him quietly long enough that Bucky felt the urge to start squirming in discomfort. “How are you doing?” She asked gently and Bucky knew immediately what she was referring to.

“Getting better.” He replied, his voice low. “Having work and the team to coach definitely helps. You?”

Lev nodded, then swallowed, looking suddenly uncomfortable herself. She glanced up at Bucky from under long lashes, looking surprisingly anxious. “I uh…” she cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t let you think the wrong thing about me and Brock, we…” she broke off, picking anxiously at a cuticle.

Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion as he waited quietly.

“We weren’t like you and Maria, we weren’t… forever.” she finally continued, looking ashamed. “I was… I had divorce papers drawn up, I was ready to give them to Brock, but then he…”

Bucky stared for a moment, stunned. A thousand thoughts suddenly racing through his head. A small, secret little part of him rejoiced; Levi had been ready to leave her husband, akin to available, before his death. She’d already been looking to move on.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, knowing his words were totally inadequate and also, not truthful.

“No, it’s fine. We weren’t working out. I… I was young and stupid and thought the college boy I fell in love with would change, grow up with me. He wasn’t a bad guy, we just…. I was hopeful and naïve, and I forgave a lot.”

Anger burned low in Bucky’s chest; what had Levi been forced to ‘forgive’?

“It’s not stupid,” he began and, at Lev’s confused brow lift, continued. “Hoping someone will grow up, most people do.”

“I’m happy he’s gone.” She whispered in a rush then clapped her hand over her mouth, mortified. “I don’t mean it like that,” her eyes were huge. “I just…. It’s extreme yes, but… I don’t have to deal with him anymore, try and work with him over custody of King or anything.”

Bucky nodded, reaching over to squeeze her knee. “I understand, it’s alright.”

Lev wiped at her cheeks. “I mean, he would have fought me on everything, just to be a dick.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, but thankfully Bucky’s words seemed to have mollified her guilt. He never would believe she’d truly meant she was happy Brock was dead, she wasn’t that type of person, even if a small, secret part of Bucky was.

“How’s King doing, if I can ask that?”

Lev nodded. “No, it’s fine, you can ask. He’s… surprisingly good, actually. Brock was never really in his face anyway, never really a hands-on dad, so there wasn’t much to miss.”

“He didn’t help out?”

Levi shook her head, her tears finally stopping. “No. Not when King was a baby waking up all night hungry, or teething, never. He… I don’t know, he looked at King like an accessory or something. An object to compare to his friend’s kids. He didn’t like that King couldn’t walk as fast as his friend’s boy, or that he wasn’t using full sentences as soon as his boss’ daughter. Never mind that they weren’t the same age, King was never good enough for him, he was always pushing him to do more and… sooner rather than later it would have started to mess with his head, make him think there was something wrong with him when there’s not.”

Rage burned low in Bucky’s chest, a whole new facet of hatred for Rumslow. What kind of man treated his wife and kid that way? King was an incredible little boy, smart and articulate, kind and funny. Bucky knew he’d be proud to call King his own.

“I feel so guilty.” Levi whispered, the tears returning. She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t regret having King at all, and I will always be grateful to Brock for giving me him, but…. What was I thinking? Bringing a child into that type of environment?” She shuddered. “Right up until King was born I hoped my pregnancy would trigger something in him, some switch would flip and he’d stop being such a frat boy, start paying attention to me and my wants, and the baby he’d helped make. But he didn’t, he wouldn’t.” Her voice broke and Bucky stopped thinking about what was right and proper in this situation.

Setting down his beer he scooted towards her, drawing Levi into his arms. She clung to him with surprising desperation, burying her face in his throat and, if the timing weren’t so gloomy, he probably would have groaned at the sensation, at the shiver of delight that shot up his spine.

“Hey,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair and closing his eyes, indulging in a heartbeat’s length of adoring the feel of her so close to him. “Hey, stop thinking that. You’re not a bad person, you’re not a bad mom; all that shit, that’s on him; it’s not your fault. He sounds like a total asshole, who wouldn’t love King? He’s such a special little man. Shit, I would’ve-” he broke off, suddenly dangerously close to unsteady ground, that minefield he’d worried about stepping through.

Lev went still in his arms and he could feel her desire to ask him to elaborate, to explain what he’d been about to say.

Shit, I would’ve treated you and King like the treasures you are, I never would have taken you for granted that way.

Levi raised her head; eyes glittering with tears and searched his face. Bucky gazed back down at her, dangerously close to letting everything he was fighting so hard not to feel flood his eyes. Her eyes dropped to his lips for a heartbeat, then back up to his eyes and time stood still.

Fighting himself every inch of the way, Bucky slowly lowered his head, searching Lev’s gaze for permission, some hint that she either wanted this or suddenly was coming to her senses and wanted to stop; but she never wavered and, as their lips touched in a sweet and tentative way, her lids fluttered shut in relief and Bucky let his own fall closed, warmth flooding his body.

Desire raged hot and hard in Bucky, demanding more but he kept the kiss light and gentle, a shy exploration of each other’s mouths, the taste of stout still on their tongues as he slicked his along her bottom lip then plunged gently inside as she parted her mouth for him, a sweet moan rising in her throat.

Pulling back, easily one of the most difficult things Bucky had ever done, he rested his forehead to hers, fighting to calm his breathing, to control his body from all but attacking her.

Lev panted with him, fingers curling against his shirt then one tentative hand reached up to cup his face, rasping against the stubble and he leaned into her touch, letting out a low groan.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, each word burning like acid. “I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay.” She breathed back.

“I… we need to-” He couldn’t force the words and so he acted instead, pushing gently away from Levi and returning to his end of the bench. He shivered at the loss of her body, her heat, against him and Lev watched him for a moment, multiple emotions warring in her eyes.

Part of Bucky hoped she stayed over there, while a bigger part wanted her to close the distance again.

Finally, she relaxed her shoulders and managed a shy smile, then unfolded the blanket to its full size and offered him one side. Bucky accepted, draping the cover over his shoulders, allowing himself this substitution. They shouldn’t be crawling all over each other, kissing, but they could share this blanket, that was bashfully intimate as well and far more the speed they should be going if they did plan on seeing where this went.

Levi settled back against the bench, turning to face forwards. There was space between them now, so much that it would difficult to lean over and nudge the other with their shoulder, but close enough that, if one dared, they could hold hands under the blanket.

For a time they were silent, gazing at the emerging stars, or the muted red glow of the patio heater, listening to the sporadic sounds of life around them, the occasional vehicle, owl hoot or dog bark but then Lev exhaled slowly and spoke, her voice hesitant.

“We were interrupted at dinner, but I asked if you ever wanted children. I don’t want to pry, but-”

“No, its fine.” Lev had bared enough of her wounds tonight, it was time for him to disclose a scar or two. “I did… I do. But Maria wasn’t interested… ever. It wasn’t a big deal when we got together but… as time passed, seeing friends have babies and stuff, I started to think about it more and more. I…” He trailed off, studying his hands knotted together, fingers twisting. “I kept putting it off, really talking about it with her though. It was obvious what she felt, she’d never babysat as a teenager, she never offered to hold any of our friend’s babies, even if I was always asking, just to feel that little bundle, that tiny weight in my arms; I’d test the waters, and hint and stuff, but she would always laugh and be like ‘no way’ and I just… let it go until there was no more time.”

“She never would have?”

Bucky considered a moment. “No, I don’t think so. One of the things I always loved about Maria was her conviction, even if it was against me. No meant no to her, every time.”

Levi gazed at Bucky silently, but he kept his gaze down. He wasn’t ready to show her, she wasn’t ready to see, the emotions crashing through his eyes right now. Finally, he found the strength to say what had been nibbling at the corners of his mind for some time now, a hard truth that had come with hindsight and miserable evaluation during long, sleepless nights, something he’d never even voiced out loud before, not ever really examined up close, just knew deep down, no matter how hard it was to acknowledge verbally.

“I think…. It would have been the issue that pushed us apart eventually… if she hadn’t died.”

He heard her breath catch but was too scared to look over and squeezed his eyes shut, praying that Lev didn’t show kindness right now, some form of acceptance for his stark confession, maybe reach over to touch him, or whisper sweet words, because he was too raw, too open right now for it to do anything but agonize.

“I’m sorry.” She finally murmured, barely audible but he heard her in the silence, felt the pain all the same.

 Me too.

[noonaficcorner]

Rose-Colored Boy | Part One

Paring: Mark Tuan | Reader

Genre/Rating: Friends to Lovers |  Fluff, Smut (later on), Slight Angst

Warning: Language

Summary: What happens when you get to meet one of your online friends in real life? Will the friendship hold up when you realize that everything is not as simple in the game? When the computer screens aren’t in the way, hopefully your walls don’t come between you and something great. 

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

A/N: This is my first kpop fic so please be kind. I couldn’t get the urge out of my head to write, so here is part 1. I don’t know how many parts this is going to be, but enjoy!

“I swear to god, if you don’t get this asshole off my six I’m going to die and make sure I’m reincarnated as the worst ingrown nail on your big toe! Kill him!” Your voice carried so loud, you were sure that your neighbors assumed someone was really committing a murder. It wasn’t that you were normally a violent person, but the way that the game caused you to lose all sense of your surroundings and common sense, possession was the only semi-logical explanation for that kind of behavior. Your fingers started to ache from the intense banging on the keyboard and quick back and forth of the mouse beneath your palm, but you couldn’t stop. The rest of your team was in your ear, yelling out curses for help, and you were right there with them.

“Sinderella, reload! Reload!” FlyingRooster93 screamed in your ear, but it was too late. Just as you were taking his advice, a headshot took you out of the game.

“Fuck!” Your head fell to the desk and you wanted to beat something up or wallow, but a ding from the computer brought you back. It was a request for a private chat. Not really wanting to talk to anyone, you saw it was FlyingRooster93 and a small smile touched your lips before accepting.

FlyingRooster93: Sorry for telling you too late >_<

Sinderella: It’s okay. I should have gotten off hours ago. I start my new shift at work tomorrow.

FlyingRooster93: That’s right! Washing the asses of old people or something.

Sinderella: Not exactly, dumbass. I’m moving to the day shift and it happens to be on the elderly floor.

FlyingRooster93: Does that mean you’re not going to washing some old dude’s balls?

Sinderella: You just wish someone would wash your balls.

FlyingRooster93: You’re right, I do. I’m exhausted, too much effort. And you still didn’t say no, so I’ll take that as a yes lol.

Sinderella: Whatever! What are you still doing on anyway, didn’t you say you were going on some big trip or something in the morning.

FlyingRooster93: Crap… you’re right. It’s been so long since I’ve been on, I lost track. Thanks, Sin.

Sinderella: No worries. It will be another 83 long years before I see you again anyway.

FlyingRooster93: Dramatic much? Want me to draw you like a French girl, so you could then leave me to die in some ocean?

Sinderella: Maybe, but I need a sugar daddy to give me a big diamond first. Gotta pay for your funeral somehow.

FlyingRooster93: Should have known you only cared about wallet size.

Sinderella: Fuck yeah I do! Have to pay these student loans off somehow. But for real, will I see you sometime this decade or wait forever and a year again?

FlyingRooster93: Or I could text you as you hit on the grandpas….

Sinderella: …

FlyingRooster93: What? Want to hit on the grandmas instead?

Sinderella: In order for me to text, I would need your number or am I doing this telepathically?

FlyingRooster93: If you did, that would fucking awesome for one, but yeah, I mean, we’ve been on the same squad for 2 years now and we talk all the time. This is what friends do, right?

Sinderella: Friends…

FlyingRooster93: Are we mortal enemies or something? Sin, it’s no big deal. Here, 116-201-4947. I gotta go pack. Text me, okay? Don’t be freaked.

Sinderella: So bossy. Fine. You text me first. 868-112-2586.

Sinderella signs out.

The last thing you expected was to exchange numbers with someone you’ve been gaming with for the last 2 years. You didn’t know each other’s names, just handles, but for some reason, this made you nervous and excited. You both knew certain aspects of each other’s lives. Like age and the base of your professions, but that was it. You knew he was a “he” because his voice was one of the only ones you could pick out while playing. You didn’t want to admit, but it was a really nice one and somehow eased your game rage. But texting? What did that mean? Was this going to lead to phone calls? Video chatting? You turned around and looked into your mirror to see your makeup-less face and messy bun. Shuddering at the thought, you left your desk and jumped into your bed. Just then, your phone flashed with an incoming text. Why was your heart about to punch through your chest cavity? Calm the fuck down, it was probably just spam. Holding the phone face down in your palm, you slowly turned it over.

116-201-4947: Are you going to save me as FlyingRooster93 or should I give you my name as well?

Asshole. You laughed and your fingers flew across the screen.

Sin: I mean, a name would be nice, but I could also save it as pushy bird.

Mark: I am not pushy. But, it’s Mark. Should I keep calling you Sin?

Sin: I mean you can. But, it’s y/n. Mark… I was expecting something more manly.

Mark: It’s very manly. Anyway, go to bed, you have to catch a rich grandpa in a few hours. Night, y/n.

Sin: And you have to… go away for a million years. Night, bossy Mark.

Mark: ;-)

Tossing your phone to the side, a smile was on your lips as you laid back down. Your online friend was becoming less abstract and more real and it didn’t feel so bad. Even though you joked, you really hoped he didn’t ghost you like usual now that a window had opened between the two of you.

What you didn’t expect was for that window to stay wide open. Mark would text you almost every day. It wasn’t fully deep conversations. He would send you the occasional joke or something that crossed his mind. You would reply with a meme or snarky comeback. Your gif wars were insane, but made you laugh on days that were really rough either with work or at home.

There were things that were still a mystery. The fear of having voice or facetime was never tested because all you both did was text, but some truths were told. The 93 in his username was for his birth year. All the traveling he seemed to do was for work, even though he never said exactly what his job was. You found out that he had 3 siblings, but he was living away from his family due to work. He lived with his friends and he loved meat. Both of you talked about your favorite BBQ spots and some even overlapped. You found yourselves arguing when it came to which bubble tea places were the best. You even divulged some things about yourself. Like how you just moved out from home and living alone for the first time. How you really enjoyed becoming a nurse and hoped to move up in the hospital. Little facts were exchanged and you found the awkwardness melted away. It was nice to know more about a guy beyond how quick he was on the reload. Weeks turned into months, and before you knew it, two months had passed. However, when your phone rang one night, the shock at Mark’s name across the screen had you stuck.

“Hello?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper even though you were alone, but the surprise at the call itself had you on edge.

“Is that how you always answer the phone? As if you just did something wrong?” His laugh came in deep and hearty. You could tell he was smiling even if you didn’t know what that smile looked like.

“Well, when strange men call me after midnight, I’m not sure if I should answer.”

“Yeah, about that. Sorry. I just needed to talk and my hands were too heavy to type.”

“Likely excuse. Told you to stop rubbing it out so often, you’ll get weak bones and go blind.” Laying back against your pillows, comfort easing in as you listened to his laugh again.

“If I go blind, you have to take care of me before I get a dog.”

“Are you saying I’m dog-ish?! Wait, what’s that noise?” You heard some muffling voice through the speaker. It sounded like an announcement of some sort.

“I didn’t say anything. Anyway, I’m at the airport heading home. Finally, right? I start to board in about 40 mins and wanted to kill some time and…”

“And what? Bother my beauty sleep?”

“That was terrible of me; you need all the beauty sleep in the world.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m gorgeous even on minimal sleep.”

“Prove it. Want to meet up tomorrow?”

The phone slipped from your fingers as if it morphed into water. Meet. Up? Like face-to-face? Human-to-human? Was he serious?!

“Yes, I’m serious. y/n? Pick up the phone.” His laughter came through again. Shit, he knew that you dropped the phone and you must have spoken those last words aloud.

“Are you back, y/n? I’m coming home and I want to hang out with you and not through a screen. I know it’s shitty of me to spring this request on you this late, but you’ve really become one of my closest friends in just a matter of weeks and it’s just natural to want to meet, right? Or maybe I’m way off base and you don’t. Fuck, didn’t think about you…”

“Mark.” You said over his rambling,but he just kept on.

“I mean we text every day and I thought we could just watch something or go eat something…”

“MARK!” You yelled, and finally he shut up.

“Thank God. I didn’t think you would shut up. Do you want an answer to the question or would you like to continue with your monologue? I can get you a skull if you want to get deeper, hamlet.”

“Yes…”

“Yes you want a skull or you want an answer?”

“Answer damn it!”

“Yes. I’ll meet up with you.” You breathed out. You tried not to laugh at his eagerness, but the realization of what you just agreed to started to dawn.

“Okay… awesome.” He breathed out and you could tell the smile was back on his lips. Lips that you were about to be able to know what looked like. Shit.

“I promise I’m not some psycho killer, but would it be okay if we met up at my apartment? It’s just…”

“Sure. I’m off tomorrow so I can just, go there?” You interrupted. You didn’t want to sound so eager yourself, but you were trying to beat back the worries that started to build up in your chest like a bad case of indigestion. You wanted to meet him, he’s basically been your friend for two years, why would this be hard?

The sound of the announcements came through the speaker again. “Crap, that’s me. I have to board. I’ll text you my address and a time that works. See you tomorrow y/n.” Before you could even say bye, the line went dead. As you sat on your bed staring at the phone as if it would bite you, Mark’s text came through with his address and apartment number.

Holy shit! You were really going to meet FlyingRooster93 in person.

[strife-totsuka-dazai-orihara]

!!IMPORTANT!!

Hi! My cat Plum needs desperately to go to the vet thanks to a shady growth on her chin that has begun leaking. (Gross, I know) Thing is, I am far from financially stable and I don’t really have the funds to make this vet trip. To make an appointment alone is $45, and I’d have to get her her rabies shot so they don’t put her down, which is another $55. Besides that whole cost, she’s going to need lab work done and probably a bunch of other shit to find out if the growth is malignant or not. This could send my total cost waaaay over $250, and I don’t even have a fourth of that. This cat is my whole world, my little derpy baby, and I would be crushed if anything happened to her. The whole hairless area on her chin in the first picture is the growth, and I’d really like to get it checked out as soon as possible. The second is an older picture just to show you how beautiful she is.

If you could donate to my paypal (https://www.paypal.me/embrown66) that would really help. Any amount would help immensely.

If not, I can totally start doing some art commissions to acquire some funds. For now I’ll only be doing headshots (from the shoulders up) since I have to focus on school work and my time is so limited, but hopefully that’s okay with anyone interested! I can do a quick sketch for $5-$7 depending on how detailed it is,

I can do some clean lineart for $10,

Or I can do something full color for $13-$15 depending on the detail.

(And here are some extra examples of my personal art style just in case)

I can draw in my own art style or the art style of whatever you want me to draw from. DM me on here if you have any questions or if you want a commission, and we can figure everything out together. Ill try and answer as soon as possible! I’m super new to this, so bear with me. 😅 (I will say though, personally I’m best at drawing Bleach characters, if that wasn’t already obvious, but I’m willing to draw whatever!)

[jeramiahsental2]

Oh hey look it’s another thing.

Ack, I kept forgetting to post this (and then when I remembered, it was either the crack of dawn or the dead of night). I mean, it’s only been (checks calendar) 20 days since I finished it? Oh, feels like it took longer. I mean, that’s a pretty long time between completion and posting, compared to the last two drawings (both posted pretty much same day)... ANYWAY.

Same thing applies as usual: more info on the drawing (and lots of rambling) will be under the "Keep reading”!

Start date: 5/30/19

End date: 8/15/19

Total time taken: 78 days (actually 56, since there were 22 whole days where I either did nothing with it or undid any changes I made after getting some feedback).

This was actually a birthday gift for my friend! That’s why it’s so much more complex than any of the others I’ve drawn... It didn’t have the little watermark at the bottom of course, but I kinda wanted to show it here, too.

Firsts: first time drawing more than one character, first time drawing characters directly interacting with things and each other (does it show?), first time drawing ANYTHING with the perspective Chikorita has, first time drawing that kinda fiery glow that Typhlosion has behind his back, first time giving the character an actual surface to stand/sit/lie on, first time drawing a character looking down, first time drawing a character without complete separation between their head and body...

In all seriousness, Typhlosion was the hardest part of this thing to draw.

Not only because I had to put Cyndaquil and Cubone in before I could draw his arms, and then figure out how to position everything so the arms weren’t super stretched.

Not only because I completely changed the position of his head about 3/4 of the way through, and it took me 1/2 of the remaining time to figure out how to position his body.

But the main reason it was such a pain - and this is the most infuriating part of any drawing I have ever done, to the point that I freaking cried - was because I could not for the life of me figure out how the heck to draw him sitting. I mean, I still don’t think it looks good. There’s just something off about it that I can’t put my finger on. But it wouldn’t look half as good if not for @possiblytracker​‘s help (although, it was... indirect help. I was a bit too cowardly to message them directly or send an ask off anon, so haha anon ask for the win *finger guns*).

(Also can I say holy shit I am really nervous tagging them. Like, FRICK this is the reason that I rarely send asks off anon, because I’m always worried about how people will react. Even when I am 99.57% certain that the interaction won’t be negative in any way, shape, or form.)

(Anyway back to drawing stuff.)

Chikorita! Let’s talk about the cute little bean. She was the last of the four to be drawn, so I guess I’m going in order of difficulty. For the most part, she wasn’t all that hard to draw. Except for the perspective. She has a back leg, I swear.

She technically doesn’t have a definition between her head and neck, which admittedly made it a bit more difficult to draw, but her collar made it a lot easier to differentiate between them. She also has leaf hair, which I love.

Onto Cubone! Technically the most complex of the characters, but the second-easiest to actually draw. Can I just say, holy crap his skull helmet has a lot of damage. Like, I wasn’t intending to put that many cracks and chips into it, but that’s how it ended up! Can’t say I’m unhappy, though.

He’s hugging his bone like a teddy bear. He’s also supposed to be leaning against Typhlosion, but I’m not sure how well that second part came across.

Finally, Cyndaquil! There’s a reason this little guy’s body is mostly concealed behind Typhlosion’s hand, and that’s because I had no idea how to draw his leg from this angle. I’ll figure it out eventually. (Side note, that’s also why Chikorita’s that close to Typhlosion, though she’s supposed to be leaning against him too.)

I’m honestly happy with the glow behind Typhlosion. It’s not supposed to be flames; he had his fire when I was first drawing him, but I figured it would be easier and probably better overall (both in terms of how it looks and because Chikorita’s leaning against him and Cyndaquil’s on his head) if I just made his dorsal vents glow instead of actually have fire come out of them.

Shading was a mixed bag. On the one hand, I had to completely ignore the glow because I tried including shadows from it and it just looked... bad. On the other hand, apart from that, shading was its normal fun self. It didn’t really seem to give the drawing as much depth as on the other drawings I’ve done, though (except maybe the headshot of my sona).

I’m still not 100% happy with it, but at this point I know that I’m not going to be. Better to move on to other projects, look back at this one as progress (and progress it is!), and maybe come back and redraw it in a couple years to see if/how/how much I’ve improved.

Whether you read all of that or skipped to this, I hope you liked the drawing!

[solastia]

Rogues And Charlatans | 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Seokjin

Word Count: 3,501

Summary: What is a gang leader supposed to do when his longtime rival shows up at his door, beaten and begging for help? Defend their honor, of course.

Warnings & Genre: Mafia!au, Fluff, and poorly attempted crack. There will be light violence, but nothing overly graphic. Maybe one person gets shot point blank. Basically, this isn’t a dark and serious mafia fic. It’s just a bunch of crooks in love, y’all.

The warehouse was near the seaport, nearly an hour away, and the entire drive there was made in silence. Everyone was tense and battle ready, fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Yoongi had even generously offered to let Seokjin be in control of the music if he wanted (something he never offered to anyone), but he had declined, stating the silence was comforting. Yoongi didn’t really understand that, because if anything it made him jittery, but he let it drop. Only the occasional forlorn sighs broke through the tense stillness as Yoongi tried his best to get them there as quickly as possible. 

After what felt like the longest trip of his life, the building came into view and Yoongi pulled into an alley to alert his men. The sun was just beginning to set, lending an eerie crimson glow to the area that he hoped wasn’t a sign of things to come. It had been way too long since he’d last been out doing his own dirty work, so he was maybe a little on edge. Message sent, he sighed weightily and pulled out his gun, checking it over and stashing another clip into his jacket. The car was suddenly filled with the sounds of buckles being undone and weapons being loaded and checked as the others followed suit. 

“Joonie, give me a gun.” 

“Baby, no. You’re going to be in the car and Yoongi’s men are watching. You don’t need a gun.” 

“I’m not staying here. Haven't you seen horror movies? The person that stays in the car always gets killed.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s the opposite, sweetheart. Just stay here for me, please? I’ll be able to concentrate better if I know you’re safe.” 

“Joon! Come on!” 

Yoongi growled and pulled an extra Glock from his glove box and held it behind him. 

“Jesus Christ, if he wants to fight so bad, let him. Honestly Hoseok, I don’t even understand why you’re here.” 

Hoseok smiles widely as he meets Yoongi’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“If Jungkookie is hurt he’ll need me.” 

Yoongi supposed that was true. “Still, stay close to us. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Do you even know how to shoot that?” 

Hoseok shrugged sheepishly, which Yoongi took to mean he didn’t. 

“Have Namjoon explain it before we get out. Only shoot if you have to. How someone could apparently work for three fucking gangs and not know how to shoot is a mystery,” he sighed, then pulled out his phone to send one last text to let his men know they were ready. 

“I’m a doctor. People tend to avoid shooting the person that keeps them alive and asks no questions.” Hoseok smirks before turning to quietly talk to Namjoon. 

Yoongi shook his head fondly, then turned to Seokjin, 

“You ready?” 

Yoongi had admittedly never seen Seokjin in action before, so the person next to him was practically a stranger. Seokjin was sitting ramrod straight, his gaze locked onto the warehouse in front of them. His eyes were hard and cold and his plush lips that were usually laughing or smirking were set in a hard line. He already had his good hand firmly clenched around his Beretta and had his injured arm hidden in the folds of his jacket. You could barely tell he was hurt. He looked like a man that could kill you without a thought before going to have tea with his mother. This was the crime boss Kim Seokjin and Yoongi had very complicated emotions about the way he looked right now. The sudden image of him on his knees staring up at this version of Seokjin was one that he didn’t think would go away very soon. 

Seokjin turned to him, his eyes softening for a moment as he nodded. Yoongi answered with a quirk of his lips then signaled to everyone else. They silently left the car, barely closing to doors to not make a sound. Seokjin was on his left and Namjoon took his usual spot on his right. Jimin and Hoseok were behind him, with Jimin taking the initiative to guard Hoseok. 

They prowled towards the side door Yoongi’s man had told him about, the guard already having been taken out the moment he’d told them they were here. He whistled lowly and his guard noiselessly appeared out of the shadows, twelve men circling around the group with their firearms aimed ahead. Seokjin turned to Yoongi with a smirk, impressed. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, pleased to get to show off. He knew he had some of the best-trained men in the game.

The man that Yoongi had working undercover was the one that met them by the door, guiding them in silently and pointing to the office on the third floor where the leader was holed up. Jungkook would also be found there in a separate room, with the leader’s brother as a guard. 

Yoongi signaled his men to go ahead of them to silently take out as many as they could before they were found out, only keeping a couple with his party as backup. The last thing he wanted was for this leader to run off. He wanted to get a few kicks in himself before presenting the asshole to Seokjin with a god damn ribbon and letting him do what he wanted. 

As his group quietly stalked up the stairs, he could hear occasional grunts or the telltale muffled burst as someone used a silencer. His men were quick and efficient, as usual, and soon had both the first and second floors cleared. There were two guards blocking the way to the office and Yoongi jerked his head towards one to signal Seokjin to take him out as he took on the other one. 

Yoongi used the butt of his gun to knock the guy out, not wanting to waste a bullet on someone so insignificant, and the low grunt as Seokjin used his knife on the other showed a ruthlessness that Yoongi wasn’t aware he was capable of. 

He was both turned on and a little terrified. 

Namjoon set his foot on the door and waited for Yoongi to count down before slamming it open, nearly tearing the door on the hinge. The five people inside all jumped up and clumsily turned their guns on them, before lowering them just as quickly as Yoongi’s men, now numbering thirty easily, began to crowd into the room. All the people in Yoongi’s group, even Hoseok, had their guns trained on five men. The terror on their faces was amusing. They knew there was no getting out of this one. 

“Which one of you asswipes is the leader?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly, strolling closer and looking them. Not a single one of them looked very impressive. 

A stocky and nearly bald guy walks forward, dressed in knockoff streetwear and at least ten chains that were probably painted plastic. The man is obviously scared, but trying his best to maintain face in front of his guys, strutting towards Yoongi and pointing his chin up in a way he apparently thought was intimidating. 

“That’s me. Who the fuck are you?” 

Yoongi guffawed at the brazenness of this asshole, pointing at the man and sharing an amused grin with Namjoon. 

“Seriously? You’re that fucking stupid? You come into my town and start shit, not knowing who the big boys are? I’m Min Fucking Yoongi, ring any bells now?” 

The man's face goes white, obviously aware of the name even if he hadn’t known him on sight. 

“I didn’t do anything towards you, man. This is just a little business.” 

“No, see. It doesn’t work like that. When you play a game, you level up and work your ass off before you can fight the boss. You don’t stride into town with a handful of petty thugs and think you can win. You went right after Kim Seokjin, someone who has been at this longer than you’ve been alive, and think you can take him on. It’s only a matter of time before you think you can fuck with me, and that isn’t happening. Where’s the fucking kid?” 

“Look, just give me what I asked for and we can all go home happy, huh? All I wanted was a cut, no big deal to you guys, right?” 

Seokjin growled, sending shivers down Yoongi’s spine. 

“Give me Jungkook. I’m not as nice as Yoongi so I won’t ask again.” 

“And I said give me what I asked for. You want to “play the game” or whatever you geezers were calling it, right? Just-”

A gunshot sounded, a little too close to Yoongi’s ear for his comfort, and the leader fell to the ground. The wound was in the middle of his forehead, a perfect headshot. Yoongi quickly turned behind him and caught Jimin’s eye. He shrugged and huffed. 

“What? I hate it when people let the bad guy talk so much. The whole evil monologue thing is annoying as hell.��� 

Yoongi shook his head, but his lips quirked in an amused smirk. Maybe the Park kid wasn’t half bad. 

Yoongi looked over the remaining men, all who looked ready to bolt. 

“Get the fuck out. Or stay, if you want to join your friend here.” 

The remaining thugs ran out of the room, a couple stumbling after Yoongi’s guards tripped them. He sighed as he watched them run for it. It was hard to find good help these days. He knew his men wouldn’t dream of running like cowards. 

“Well, this was a little anticlimactic, wasn’t it?” Hoseok chuckled. 

“Jungkook?!” Seokjin yelled out, trying to guess which of the three doors ahead of them lead to his brother’s location. 

“Kookie baby, you in here?” Jimin joined him in tapping on the doors and peering inside the unlocked ones. 

“IN HERE!” Jungkook’s voice rang from the metal door near the back of the office, where it was, of course, locked from the outside. 

They heard the murmur of duel voices talking excitedly inside the room and Jimin stayed by the door as Namjoon looked around for a key or something. They found the key in the leader’s pocket and rushed to open the door. 

Jimin had his gun pointed towards the other man in the room as Seokjin ran to Jungkook and gathered him up, his former cold exterior melting as he inspected his brother for damage. Jungkook was rumpled from wearing the same clothes for the past couple days but otherwise seemed undamaged.

“I’m okay, Jin, really. Taehyung didn’t let them hurt me. He convinced them they’d get more if they left me alone. We’ve just been in here playing cards and watching Netflix on his phone. It was a nice vacation really, although food service sucked,” Jungkook giggles as he tugged himself from Seokjin’s grasp and walked over to Jimin. 

“Hey babe, I missed you.” 

Jimin lowered his gun and wrapped Jungkook into his arms, tucking his head into the crook of his neck.

“I missed you. Never do that again.” 

“I promise I’ll never get kidnapped again,” Jungkook chuckled, before turning and gesturing towards the other man. “Guys, this is Taehyung. He’s the boss’s brother, but he’s cool.” 

“Yeah? Well, your brother’s dead. I killed him,” Jimin sneered, although the friendly demeanor of Taehyung’s didn’t change. 

He shrugged, still smiling brightly. “ Half brother. He was a dick. Kicked me around a lot. Won’t miss him. So you’re Jimin? Jungkookie wasn’t kidding when he said you were gorgeous. Hello, pretty Jiminie.” 

Yoongi observed the trio with a quirked eyebrow, not even wanting to know where this was going, although watching Jimin flounder and blush under Taehyung’s flirty grin was a little amusing. 

He turned to Seokjin, who was finally starting to wilt now that adrenaline was no longer fueling him. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you in a bed before you collapse.” 

Seokjin beamed down at him as he draped his arm across Yoongi’s shoulders. 

“You called me a pet name,” Seokjin crooned as they wobbled down the steps. 

“Lies and slander.” Yoongi could feel his face heating up, trying to reason with himself that it was just from the effort of trying to lug this giant around. 

“It’s only fair I get to call you one now. Hmm, honey? Pookie? Cupcake?” 

Seokjin’s teasing grin was burning a hole into Yoongi’s brain, he was sure of it. And it stopped altogether when Seokjin’s voice deepened and he whispered, “Baby boy?” right into his ear. 

Yoongi glared up at Seokjin, whose knowing smile only grew in size as Yoongi tried his best to intimidate the other into silence. 

He helped Seokjin into the car and buckled him up before going around and getting into the driver’s seat. The back slowly filled up, Hoseok on Namjoon’s lap and Jimin in Jungkook’s. Taehyung was in the middle for some reason and Yoongi looked at him curiously. 

“Why are you in my car?” 

“He’s coming with me to Jimin’s,” Jungkook mumbled into Jimin’s shoulder as he cuddled into the smaller man. 

“And Jimin is okay with this?” Seokjin asked, peering around his seat as much as his bruised ribs would allow. 

“Yeah. It’s cool,” Jimin answered airily, although Yoongi caught the flash of interest in his eyes as he glanced at Taehyung. 

Yoongi and Seokjin shared a look and decided to drop it. 

The ride back was almost as silent as it was before, although it lacked the tense air. Instead, it was like everyone was basking in relief, relishing the safety of each other. There had been many deaths that night, but as Yoongi took in the relaxed faces of those around him, he couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty.

He rolled into the gravel driveway of his mansion, coming to a stop by the front steps. A couple of his men met them there and opened the car doors for them. Yoongi walked around to help Seokjin out as the rest of them assisted each other out of the back. 

Yoongi backed off and stood awkwardly on his front steps as Seokjin hugged Jungkook, saying goodbye and nagging him into coming home for dinner eventually. Soon Jimin came and collected Jungkook from his clinging older brother and began herding him and Taehyung towards his own car. Yoongi cleared his throat and clasped Jimin’s shoulder to hold him back for a moment. 

“You did good today, kid. I think everyone should meet here at my place tomorrow afternoon, maybe talk about a few things.” 

Jimin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What? Like a partnership?” 

“Something like that,” Yoongi shrugged. “Gotta admit, you impressed me and it felt good having you on my side. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” 

Jimin nodded with a small grin and threaded his arm through Jungkook’s as he led him to his car, with Taehyung already inside waiting for them. Yoongi lifted his hand in a small wave as they drove off before he turned to the rest of the party. 

Hoseok was looking over Seokjin’s arm, while Namjoon made eye contact with Yoongi only to make suggestive eyebrow waggles while gesturing at Seokjin. Who the fuck knew what he was trying to say but Yoongi was having none of it. 

“Are you guys going to take Seokjin straight home or what's the plan?” 

“Actually,” Seokjin laid his hand gently on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I was hoping I could just stay here again tonight? I really don’t feel like having to be in a car again. I’m tired and hungry, and I’d really like one of those pain pills now.” 

Yoongi’s eyes widened as the depth of Seokjin’s exhaustion finally showed in his voice. 

“Fuck, of course! Namjoon, you mind?” 

“On it.” Namjoon gently scooped Seokjin up and started the journey into the mansion and up the stairs. Seokjin smiled sweetly at Yoongi over Joon’s shoulder. 

Yoongi let out a long-suffering sigh and Hoseok patted his shoulder like he understood his pain. 

“I’ll fix you guys something to eat. I’m sure you’re dying for a shower.” Hoseok offered as he walked beside Yoongi into the house. He nodded and quietly thanked Hoseok as he slowly trekked upstairs. 

Yoongi’s own exhaustion was finally hitting him, the adrenaline that had kept him going all day now a thing of the past. He heard the shower going in Seokjin’s room as he passed it, and willed the thought of wet and naked Seokjin far from his mind. Luckily, he was too fatigued for any blood to head where he didn’t want it right now. 

Once his own shower was done and he was clothed comfortably he went next door, finding Seokjin digging into a tray full of food enthusiastically. It looked like there was enough for two, which was probably how Hoseok’s meddling ass intended it. Seokjin waved him over and patted the empty spot next to him on the bed, scooting the tray so it would be in the middle where they both could reach. 

Yoongi took a bread roll and slowly picked it apart, popping a piece into his mouth every now and then. He was hungry, but he was almost too tired to really worry about it. He simply sighed and relished the warm weight of Seokjin sitting next to him as they ate in silence, as Seokjin somehow ate quietly for what must be the first time in his life. 

Once the tray was finished - ninety percent of it consumed by Seokjin - Yoongi picked it up and set it on the floor, planning on taking it with him when he left the room. 

“You already take your pill?” He asked, looking over at the content albeit drained Seokjin settling into his covers. 

“Yeah. Hoseok gave it to me before he and Namjoon went to bed. Did you know he lives here?” 

That was definitely news to Yoongi. He’d known the annoying doctor was around a lot, but not that he shared Namjoon’s room. 

“Next time he tries to bill me I’ll have to tell him it’s part of his rent.” 

Seokjin hummed and scooted closer to Yoongi. The blankets were a bit of a barrier, with Yoongi on top of them as Seokjin was underneath, but it still felt amazingly intimate to Yoongi. 

“Hey,” Seokjin whispered, so close that Yoongi could feel little puffs of air against his side. “You were amazing today. Thank you for helping me.” 

“Yeah, well...” Yoongi shrugged, coughing a bit to cover up his awkwardness. “You know there's nothing I hate more than wannabe thugs.” 

Seokjin gave a little throaty hum and leaned over, pressing a featherlight kiss against Yoongi’s side. Even though all that Seokjin’s lips touched were the cloth of Yoongi’s pajama shirt, it still felt like it was burning his skin. 

“My hero,” Seokjin practically whispered, as his eyes began to drift shut. 

“You’re tired. I’ll leave you to it,” Yoongi practically leap up in a rush to get away and scream in private, but Seokjin reached out and lightly tugged on his shirt. 

“Stay? I feel safer when you stay.” 

And oh fuck, who was he to say no to that? 

Yoongi inhaled a shaky breath and nodded, lifting the covers up to slide underneath. He leaned over and shut off the light before trying to settle in. He stared up at the dark ceiling as his mind tried to process what was happening. Only it got worse, as Seokjin tiredly cooed and slid even closer, draping his good arm around Yoongi and tangling their legs together. He thought this should feel weird or uncomfortable, but as he felt Seokjin’s cheek settling onto his chest and inhaled the freshly washed sandalwood scent of him, it just seemed...right. 

Yoongi was grateful for the dark veil of night as he couldn’t fight off the contented smile growing on his face. He closed his eyes and settled in for the best nights sleep he’d had in years. 

[caffeineivore]

Cheer up emo R/J

For @coppercrane2 specifically because she wanted this scene but also for whoever else wants it and needs some R/J cheer up emo.

**

If JFK is a post-apocalyptic wasteland where manners and dreams went to die, LAX is simply a clusterfuck. Raven Fletcher isn’t stupid enough to mean-mug the smarmy-looking TSA agent at the end of the line, not exactly, but the smile in place on her face is about as gruesome as Heath Ledger’s Joker. She had the whole system down pat by now-- plastic bag of toiletries, no belt, no hat, no jacket, no sunglasses, shoes that could easily be slipped off and on, no electronics and items in the pockets-- but the whole process is a drag, anyway. And of course, they still always gave her crap, and this time is no exception.

“What were you doing in LA?”

“Meeting up with some clients in the industry, catching up, making plans for New York Fashion Week.”

 “So you live in New York, then?”

“Yeah. I thought it says so on my license.” And moreover, she certainly didn’t sound like a Californian, now did she? 

The TSA agent gives her a warning look; her sass is clearly not appreciated, and undoubtedly he’d use it as an excuse to make her suffer in the next five to ten minutes and probably go through every last bit of her bags, down to counting how many tampons she stashed in and probably testing her makeup wipes to ensure that nothing was radioactive. Raven bites her tongue and tries not to roll her eyes as he beckons over a female officer to pat her down even as he paws through all her belongings. He shakes out a Dior dress that’s tucked into her garment bag that’s likely worth more than the X-ray machine that the bag just passed through, and Raven wants to ask that he change his damn gloves first, but at this rate, if he goes any slower, she’d miss her connection. Sunny weather or not, she’d be damned if she got stuck in LA for another day.

Finally, the ordeal comes to an end, which leaves her roughly half an hour to get from one end of the airport to the other on four-inch Louboutins. Raven has no problem with mowing through crowds-- sharp elbows and the aggressive New Yorker walk does wonders-- but to have to do so just to get to her gate in time is aggravating when it was certainly not her fault that the security check took so long. She certainly couldn’t just crumple up the damned Dior and stuff it back into the garment bag-- she had a client dinner right after getting back in town, and on no planet did Raven Fletcher appear at such events anything less than perfectly dressed and groomed. 

There’s the moving walkway up ahead, and she strides on, a woman on a mission, long legs eating up the length of the conveyor. Raven is a petite woman, five-foot-four before the stiletto heels and too short for the modeling work that she immerses herself in dealing with on a daily basis, but she’s leggy, and can walk, jog and possibly do step aerobics in heels with the best of them. She steps off at the end of the moving walkway, leading with her shoulders, and smacks painfully into a solid male chest.

“I’m so sorry. Are you all right, miss?” A pair of big hands wrap around her elbows and pull her up, and had she landed any harder, she probably would have broken a thousand-dollar heel, and perhaps an ankle. Raven looks up from legs clad in casual gray chinos to a torso in blue tweed, with brown elbow patches, up into an almost-unforgivably handsome face, all golden California tan and tousled, sun-bleached blond hair, wearing horn-rimmed glasses over his baby blues. And... headphones. Of course. Because it would certainly be too much to ask for a man to be too perfect, so this particular specimen had to be moseying through the airport deaf to his surroundings like an oblivious moron.

“I would be better if you were watching where you were going, but forget about it.” She bypasses the hand he holds out to help her up, and snags both her garment bag and her briefcase. Her ankle gives her a twinge as she stands up, but she stalks off without a backward glance. If she hurried, she’d have just enough time to pop into the Starbucks by her gate for a quad venti iced macchiato to wash down the Excedrin before getting on the plane. 

The boarding process, after she reaches her gate, and where someone else might have passed their time sleeping or watching a movie or two on the five-hour flight, Raven opens her briefcase after the plane reaches cruising altitude to organize her files for the upcoming client dinner. Not that there is much to do, really, because Morgan Austen, even at age seventeen, didn’t exactly require much of an introduction. Blonde and willowy and charming and self-assured, the girl’s celebrity background might have gotten her in the door, but she’d certainly lived up to all the hype. Only too often were the celebrity actor-model types unforgivably uppity and spoiled, and while a small, petty part of Raven enjoyed putting them in their place as needed, it always came as a pleasant surprise when someone didn’t have to get told off for their own good. 

Her heart gives a pitter-patter, though, when she reaches inside the bag and feels, underneath her manicured fingertips, a bunch of manila folders rather than the sleek leather portfolio that should be contained in that compartment. Cautiously, she draws out the papers, then only barely manages to avoid swearing loudly and noticeably in the airplane cabin. 

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. This is a joke. A really bad joke.”

In place of the carefully-curated and prepped collection of headshots and polaroids of Morgan Austen is a collection of lab reports, all with the header of ‘153BH, UCLA/Huntley’. Raven has exactly zero interest in the subject of Nucleotide Metabolism, and the worst part about it is the fact that she has a whole three and a half hours before the plane lands and she can even get on her phone to do something about this mishap. 

It’s the longest three and a half hours of her life, feels like, and she pulls out her cell phone almost before the flight attendants turn off the seatbelt sign, calls the agency to postpone the dinner with the rep from Michael Kors.

“Yeah, there’s been a problem with my bag. Stupid LAX. Can you just... tell them my flight was delayed, or something? They’ll be a-o-fucking-kay because they’re getting Morgan Austen to walk their damn show in a month and it’ll be the biggest thing to happen to them since dude designed Michelle Obama’s official portrait dress. Thanks, Luna. You’re a whole bag of organic non-GMO peaches. And... someone’s calling, and it’s a 310 area code, so I’m going to let you go.”

She recognizes the area code as Los Angeles, of course, and expects that it’s some minion from some customer service desk in LAX reporting that they’d found her bag, but the voice which comes through is male and sounds oddly familiar, with that faint Calfornian drawl. “Am I speaking to Ms. Raven Fletcher?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“My name is Jude Huntley, and we bumped into each other at the airport? I seem to have your work bag rather than mine.” The tone is summery-smooth and apologetic, the cadence quick yet lacking the almost-harsh briskness of Manhattan. “It’s entirely my fault, and I’m going to get your bag back to you, but could you tell me where you’d like to pick it up?”

“Well, if you can’t tell, I’m kinda on the opposite coast to you now, buddy. Elite Models, New York, New York. We’re on 5th Avenue.” He doesn’t seem at all fazed by her slightly snotty tone, which takes the wind out of her sails, just a little. “Look, pal, if you want to send off my bag to New York, that’d be great. I can do the same with yours. UCLA, right? At least it’s summertime. Hopefully school’s out for you. Shitty time for me to lose my bag because summer’s prime time for campaigns, but it’s not like my stuff can just magically appear overnight.” All around her, people are rising up from their seats, and Raven scowls at nothing in particular. “I gotta get off the plane. Look, since you clearly got my number from my card, you can get the address, too. I’ll get your bag back to you as soon as I can.” 

She hangs up, and seethes from the gate all the way to the taxi stand and then all the way to her apartment, before kicking off the heels and unapologetically ordering pizza delivery, to be consumed with wine while soaking in the tub. After the day she’d had, it was the least she deserved.

**

Raven arrives at the agency at eight o’clock sharp the next morning, with the briefcase-that-is-not-hers in one hand, a giant to-go cup of coffee in the other, and spends the first hour of her day making a phone call to the reps at Michael Kors to explain her bag mishap and reschedule the dinner meeting. Thankfully, Morgan Austen’s name is enough to negate any wrath which might have been incurred at the inconvenience, and, crisis averted, she’s just about ready to schedule a conference call-- with a talent scout out in BFE, Cornfields, Small-town USA somewhere-or-another-- when her assistant Phoebe knocks on the door. The diminuitive brunette has a peculiar look in her beady eyes.

“Someone’s here to see you. No appointment. Great face but I doubt he’s a model, unless he’s doing some sort of ad for Geek Chic. Says his name is Jude. Do you know a Jude? I didn’t think you knew a Jude, though this guy’s sort of got the hot younger Jude Law thing going on so...”

Raven’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. She’s only made the acquaintance of one individual by that name, and certainly Phoebe is wrong. There is no freaking way that the man from the airport in Los Angeles was actually in New York at this very second. She waves in a vague manner at Phoebe, who takes it as assent to let him in, and then her jaw drops. It’s the man from the airport, all right. Still wearing his tweed jacket and his horn-rimmed glasses, but now sporting dark-blond five-o’clock shadow like gold dust smudged against his chiseled jaw and deep shadows under those blue eyes. But his lips quirk into a smile when he sees her, and he holds out her bag, like an olive branch.

“You asked for it to be overnighted, didn’t you? I took the red-eye over.”

“But--- but---why?” Flying a red-eye from coast to coast is the worst, and doing so on standby just seemed like her own idea of Hell on Earth. “You could’ve just dropped it off at a FedEx. I...” She had barely been civil to him on the phone, and definitely was on the wrong side of rude when they’d bumped into each other at the airport. Under no circumstance could Raven see a reason for a man-- especially one who looked as though he had a job and a life well on the other side of the country-- to drop everything just to bring her her bag back in person. 

But rather than give her a hard time, the man named Jude smiles, and it’s a great smile, with a dimple in both cheeks and in the chin. Geek chic indeed... “Well, I need those lab reports back, too. Summer class. I have a commitment to my students to get it back to them by Friday, and they’re kind of time consuming to grade. Call it an impulse, I guess.” He’s still holding out her bag, and this time she takes it, and belatedly hands him his own. “Anyway, let’s start over again. My name is Jude Huntley, and I’m an assistant professor at UCLA’s Chemistry department.”

“Raven Fletcher. I’m an agent here at Elite Models. Nice to meet you.” Two almost-identical bags switch hands, just before his fingers close around hers, and the touch is warm and sharp with the brush of static electricity. Raven’s fairly sure that her spine is, metaphorically speaking, stainless steel. And yet a shiver works its way up and down as he holds on for just a moment too long, and a decidedly unfamiliar warmth creeps up into her cheeks as he smiles at her again. 

“The pleasure is definitely all mine.”

[pelinrdemir]

Branding is not as simple as it sounds, this is something that people will be judging you by. When you’re not there in person to represent yourself, your website and logo will. Your logo will be seen probably more than yourself. These are the things that set the image of you, and so you have to really show off, but not too much.

In the DO/Purpose book, David Hieatt talks about the importance of having a purpose for your brand. (https://thedobook.co)

    ‘It tells your story, it builds your teams and it defines your culture.’

If you do not have a purpose, what are you working for?

My purpose:

1. Reach the masses.

2. Impact the masses.

I need to reach the people, not only people around me and the jobs I am applying to, but a wider scale, for people to know my name. However, this is not enough, anyone can scroll past my work, I want people to look at my work and be impacted by it. This links to the quote by Seth Rogan on my website (www.pelindemir.co.uk) , how your work can have the weirdest idea behind it, but you have to portray it in such a way that the mainstream can understand it and be affected by it.

I made this table to visualise myself, what bits I can take from this and include it in my branding.

From this I wanted to represent ‘balance’ in my work either with balance of colour or my content. I want my brand to be in unity; colour, theme, and content. They all need to work together so I can portray one image of myself instead of this chaotic brand that has no consistency.

I started with my logo; I knew I wanted to include my name as that would be something people remembered. I began playing around with just my initials of PRD, I tried multiple ideas but none of them clicked, and also people would not know what the letters meant. Next, I did my first name with the letters of my middle and last name, I even went as far as buying a domain of www.pelinrd.com as I thought this was my final idea. Every time I had new ideas I would send it to my friends and family for them to circle their favourites so I could work off them. 

Finally,  I took a look at  Pablo Picasso’s famous line drawings  (http://www.pablopicasso.net/drawings/ )and wanted to include this simplistic style of art. I drew my face with my natural wavy hair and finished the other half off with my name. I really liked this look and received positive feedback from the people around me.  This was all done on Adobe Illustrator.

I tried having a Tumblr website as it is cheaper, but I really could not navigate around the website with ease, I think it is nice to have as social media for personal use, but not for my online portfolio which needs to look formal. I was told about PortfolioBox (https://www.portfoliobox.net) and instantly I was able to use the website and create my own. They have an online chat section too, so any issues I had I could instantly ask someone, and have it sorted.

I created some wireframes on Adobe Illustrator to have gather ideas of how I would organise my work. I put this into my website, I added a navigation bar with the necessary headings and added my Logo at the top. I added a link to my Instagram in the bottom left corner but also did a contact me page to make it easier.

I personally think that my ‘about me’ page is the most important page; this is probably the first time that people would see a photo of me and see what type of person that I am through my written bit. My brother is a photographer (https://www.instagram.com/boranakindemir/) and so he took headshots for me. I did not want typical LinkedIn style photos on my website, I wanted them to be respectable but still have a touch of personality and so I made a gif of 3 images, a ‘nice’ one, a laughing one, and a random one. I decided to have them black and white to match the theme of my brand. The bio section next to had to have some personality too so I added some humour into it whilst also showing the genuine person I was. I didn’t want it to be boring nor did I want to tell direct them into a way of thinking, so I didn’t say much about myself, I let my work show who I am https://www.pelindemir.co.uk .

I knew from the beginning that I wanted the website and logo to be as simplistic as possible. I wanted my work to be what shone through. Colour wise, I knew I would do black and white, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted an accent colour or not. I have since, decided against this so I can leave it as simple as possible. If I do have a situation where I need another colour, I would use different shades of grey. I did not want a complete plain black and white theme on my website, so I incorporated the marble effect (still black and white in colour) to add some texture. Almost all the logo’s I have seen of people was black and white, if not just another solid colour and white. This is usually because it is easiest to see and if something is printed in black and white, it is still visible and clear. For example, on the creative careers website (http://creativecareersguide.port.ac.uk/cvs/creative-examples/) they have many CV examples which all include peoples logos. Majority of them are black and white.

[booksandchainmail]

nanoha vivid liveblog: episode 7

we off left last time with nanoha and teana both preparing massive attacks. which team will win? will this fight last another beautiful, beautiful twenty minutes?

oh, we’re starting off with the op this time. probably means theres a lot of action early on

starting with these two seems appropriate (and a hell of a fight)

gods, fate’s two swords mode is badass. 

One thing that’s really great about this training fight in general is that everyone gets to go all out (with limiters), and since its in the future compared to strikers, we get to see some pretty rare moves all together at once

fucking brutal vivio, you kicked her in the head

shes so cute

annnnd headshot

and nanoha returns to its roots of fuckoff huge beam attacks

sein is suddenly very glad she wasn’t allowed to participate

thats also just a really good tactic, since its not like subaru would have survived it if she had shielded herself more. I’d wonder why more people didn’t try, but i don’t actually think anyone else was close enough to a team member. Also smart of subaru to shield vivio, rather than the other way around, since teana is a lot less prepared for her than she would be for her old partner

oh cool, vivio’s picked up roller skating from nove

and using her own magic to substitute for skates is a great idea, i wonder why more people don’t do that? maybe it burns through magic quickly?

and now for some fisticuffs

i mean, it did kinda have to come down to the two of them, and this season is focusing on martial arts rather than more magical fights, so this makes sense

and thats a KO

OH WAIT NO

damn einhart, you just do not give up

and using the moment your opponent’s convinced they’ve won is a decent way to land a hit on someone who specializes in counter attacks

and now we get to see glimpses of other battles!

nanoha and teana at close range is a hell of a situation, considering they both tend to ranged attacks. doesn’t look like tea can beat her old teacher yet.

that would have been a very punchy fight. presumably subaru wouldn’t use her destructo-hand cyborg ability in this match, but she’s still capable of a lot more firepower than einhart

gods fate’s broadsword is good

oh! new teams!

this one is split between frontline close range fighters and ranged attackers, which could be very strong but has some weak points

i guess what youd want is nanoha and teana hammering away at the opponents while vivio, einhart, and rio keep them stalled in the middle. hopefully the constant barrage will make the other team slip up, and will definitely limit their mobility, but if they can get fighters past the front line it’ll go poorly

and this team is entirely speed based, with four of the most mobile fighters. it might be best to use corona’s golem as a delaying tactic on the other teams front line, and send all the speedsters around the sides to try and take out the ranged fighters quickly

gods i want to see that fight

holy fuck

looks like subaru got to the ranged fighters, but she’ll have a rough time getting through that barrage

lutecia youre like two years older than they are

awwww

OH TIME FOR THE TOURNAMENT ARC

which might actually just be the whole plot, i think it was still running when i stopped the manga? and the anime definitely won’t get past it.

for some reason i don’t think any of these girls will be relevant

how has einhart not considered this before? it seems pretty well known and she’s the type to be really into fighting matches.

actually, on second thought einhart doesn’t seem to have thought much about the possibility of fighting as a sport since she’s so caught up in her inherited war memories. also, i can definitely believe she pays zero attention to current events and sports matches

nove rolled up the sleeves on her kimono bathrobe. because of course she did.

THANK YOU

NOW PLEASE MAKE SURE SHE KNOWS THAT

i really do like this idea of dealing with strength-induced angst and trauma via martial arts instead of more risky avenues. imagine what the world would be like if bruce wayne started mma instead of becoming a vigilante. 

nove is still tsundere about teaching

this is good! i did not expect nove to be such a major part of this show, and im glad theyre acknowledging that she has a life outside of coaching. its pretty rare for mentor figure to also get their own character arcs, and especially in nove’s case it makes a lot of sense. i mean it’s only been four years since she was a brainwashed combat cyborg working for a mad scientist turned terrorist, no wonder she still needs to figure out what she wants in life

i wonder how cost plays into this? if you need a device to compete, and better devices do make a substantial difference in fighting ability, it seems like the tournament should standardize gear to an extent, and provide for competitors who cant afford it

gods this is fucked up.

its not enough for einhart to continuously train, to get stronger and win against powerful opponents. she feels like she needs to fight on an actual battlefield.

and i can’t really say she’s wrong. there’s a lot of difference between being a skilled tournament fighter and handling actual combat, and the example she’s trying to surpass was one explicitly for actual warfare

but she doesn’t have to achieve that strength, and she shouldnt feel like she needs to

einhart is brooding too loudly for vivio to sleep

hey! it’s her! they don’t give an actual rank, just a generic officer title (im assuming. unless she was demoted a lot in the past four years), but presumably she’s risen even further. i fully expect hayate to end up running the tsab 

awww

makes sense to go to the leader of the wolkenritter and an ancient belkan magic expert for help with ancient belkan weapons i guess

it’s the intelligent devices! 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh?

oh

if these kids are being taught by a wolkenritter, theyre gonna be impressive

hayate knows her fighting show tropes

holy fuck

shes being taught by all the wolkenritter

this extremely cheerful child is possibly the best taught warrior on this planet

ok, lets see: i’m guessing yagami is more in regards to the wolkenritter, since hayate is very much not a strike arts fighter. sword draw sounds appropriately knight-y, and i’m always a fan of sword fights. weird that she uses midchildan magic, since non of her teachers do. and she’s a newbie, which makes her a completely unknown quantity

if these guys are fucking novices, what do the other competitors look like?!

oh, this is really good. einhart has been training herself for a long time, and pretty much everyone’s commented on how good her fundamentals are. there’s not much point in another two months of basic training on top of that. but she hasn’t really had worthy opponents, hence the whole street fighting misadventure, and so she needs more sparring.  

so we’re getting a rambunctious nun

gods, sein

hdgks;

i like her already

oooh, two swords. incredible speed sounds like exactly what it says on the tin. another midchildan fighter, despite being part of the belkan church. and she’s also new, but a bit older than miura

... theyre just a girl gang

i guess nanoha is going even heavier on the genre mixing than usual this season

holy hells she’s self taught

three times competing, fifth best in the city... she’s the most experienced fighter we’ve seen yet, but i think this year’s newbies might be better than average

the contrast of elegant lady with butler and tea, and the massive dumbbell and weight rack is excellent

well fuck

this just got even more tied into ancient history, which is mostly just going to be weird for vivio, but could be pretty bad for einhart

a tiiiiny bit

unlike einhart, who apparently got all of klaus’ blood

she’s pretty old for this competition, or at least the others we’ve seen. come to think of it, it takes a weirdly large range of competitors. since its the intermediate championship, presumably theres a younger bracket, and it might be better to extend that until twelveish rather than let ten year olds fight seventeen year olds

anyways, her thunder theme is very evident here. dahlgren magic, which is a new one, to have a family rather than planetary system. and shes very experienced, and has done really well previously

i like how everyone else is at home, or with friends or teachers, and then we’ve got this weirdo running through the desert in a dark hoodie with the hood up

oh hell, another new magic system. her style is really broad, her skill is nondescript, her device is unknown... not a lot to go on here OH WAIT SHES THE CHAMPION. 

THE INTERDIMENSIONAL CHAMPION

nove wasn’t kidding about this region being a tough bracket

and back to our protagonists, who now look so simple and reasonable. vivio is just a punch girl with mixed magic styles! so uncomplicated

corona does golems. that is literally all the information here

is rio the first modern belka practitioner we’ve see for the tournament? she’s got her own style, which honestly seems pretty common at this point, and then her maginificent FLAME-LIGHTNING TRANS, which sounds like it should be a band or something

lutecia’s style: magic

but don’t they all use magic. that doesnt matter. lutecia uses better magic.

also, idk how much use healing and summoning will be in presumably one-on-one tournament matches

and here we end, with our ancient fight nerd waiting for her device

gods this tournament’s going to be great

[talesofdark]

8 $ commissions or donate-how-much-you-can and receive drawing/sketch (will be donated to boyfriend’s family)

As my followers probably know, about a month ago, my boyfriend and his family suffered a great loss: the death of his father in Finland, where he was working. He died in his sleep.

He was a very kind man, rough at times, mostly because he didn’t want to show weakness so he could be strong for everyone else, even though he was close to losing his mental sanity at times. These people only knew hard times, but at least they had each other. Up until now.

Apart from the emotional suffering, they were left in a horrible situation, financially speaking. My boyfriend was born with Ventricular septal defect (VSD) and his family had to pay for his medication, and later for his heart surgeries at age 7. They had to sell their house in order to pay for everything. 

They had to work hard to pay their debt, and up to this day they are still paying. Now his mother is left without her main source of support, her husband. His mother earns a ~255 $ salary, which is not enough to sustain the family: herself, and her two children, my boyfriend and his 10 year old sister.

My mother promised to help with a little donation, but she’s not a very generous woman, and a difficult person, so I think I will try to help by myself.

I therefore want to open commissions. Most of the money will be donated to his family, to help pay for the funeral, repatriation (costing 5000 euros- a fortune, basically)

I will do 8 $ commissions that will have my trademark “sketchy” lineart, and color added. Additional characters will be 8$ as well, considering the relatively low price I start with anyway. Also, if you want to donate, any sum helps, and I’ll do drawings/sketches for anything you donate as thanks.

I’ll draw a headshot or waist up by default, with a blank background. If you want something else please specify, though I’d rather keep this format- these are really busy days and full body drawings take way longer, for me at least.

Examples:

Just send me a message stating what you’re interested in. I will reply as soon as possible and will probably finish each drawing in max. ~3 days, since the funeral is on Sunday, March 12. 

Thank you.