#i was working on that edit and suddenly the perfume ad happened and i just rolled with it *shrug*

[youshouldseemeinadeerstalker]

Post break-up Ed bringing out his own perfume line.

[anemo-writes]

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

[waitimcomingtoo]

Plank all over me was so good!! Could you make a part 2? Maybe they got invited to another interview and was challenged to do couple yoga poses?

Plank All Over Me 2- Yoga Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Plank All Over Me

Masterlist

Requests are SO INCREDIBLY CLOSED

“Hello everyone, I’m Tom Holland.” Tom opened the video.

“And I’m seriously wondering why I keep agreeing to stuff like this.” You quipped. Tom gave you a fond look at your familiar banter.

“Because you had such a great time last time that you wanted to do it again.” Tom said to you. “Sound familiar?”

You shot Tom a look for playing dirty. He was, of course, referring to your first date. Your chemistry was so potent that your second date was planned with an hour into the first one. Tom had teased you that night for being so eager to plan another one, but he was secretly planning your third and fourth in his head so it all evened out. Hell, the boy was already imagining what flowers would line the alter at your wedding. Roses, for those wondering, to match your perfume.

But the third date never happened, not after the events of the second one. It had gone perfectly, just like the first one had. He pulled out your chair for you, held your hand, made you blush, all the things he should. He was funny and smart and sweet. You couldn’t have been more enchanted with him. At the end of the night, Tom walked you to your door step like a true gentleman. He started to lean in for the kiss, and you did to. At the last minute, the flash of a camera caught your attention. You panicked, thinking it was a paparazzi, and pulled him into a hug instead. It ended up being your neighbors camera, but the damage was already done. You still cringed at the memory of his hesitant hug back. You cursed yourself for not kissing him that night. It made things awkward between the two of you today.

“Not at all.” You short back. “I’m Y/n L/n and since you guys liked our Plank All Over Me challenge for some reason, we were asked to come back and do the yoga challenge.”

“I also enjoyed the Plank All Over Me challenge.” Tom piped up with a cheeky grin. You were glad he was acting normal for the camera. You only hoped he wasn’t hurting on the inside.

“Yeah, I think you enjoyed it a little more than me.” You matched his flirty banter with your own.

“I was gonna say I enjoyed it a lot more than you, but sure.” Tom shrugged with a happy smile. “I guess that can be said about a lot of things.” Tom muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You felt your heart sink. He was referring to the date again. He thought you didn’t enjoy it. To the best of your ability, you tried to silently tell him with your eyes that you loved the date, you just got too scared to kiss him.

“Can we get started so this can end faster? Please?” You pretended to beg the crew. Tom laughed and bit his lip as he admired you in your cute little pink yoga outfit. You wore pink sweatbands and wristbands to match each other, a decision you made all on your own with no crew involved. From his side, he wasn’t mad at you. He was just upset that you didn’t feel the way he did. That didn’t stop him from finding you gorgeous, and definitely didn’t stop him from wanting you.

“Here’s your first pose.” A crew member turned a laptop around to show you the following image:

“That’s the first pose? What’s the second pose? Third base?” You asked in shock. There was no way you were gonna achieve that position.

“God I hope so.” Tom laughed. He suddenly got serious and pointed at the camera. “I’m kidding. Respect women.” You laughed until he added under his breath, “We haven’t even gone to first base.”, making your face fall.

“Someone get me out of here.” You kept you the act of hating being there as you prepared to recreate the pose.

“Come on. We can totally do this one.” Tom clapped and got on his back. “Give me your hands.”

“This man just wants to hold my hand.” You teased.

“Yes, and?” Tom joked, making you roll your eyes before giving him your hands. “You should get on my feet while my knees are bent, and then I’ll lift you. Okay?”

“You sound like you speak from experience.” You poked fun at him as you laced your fingers with Toms. You couldn’t ignore how right it felt to be with him in that way.

“Well if my acting career failed, I was gonna be a yoga instructor.” Tom said simply while concentrating on keeping you steady.

“Really?” You asked in surprise.

“No.” Tom laughed as you rested your tummy on the bottom of his socked feet. You held on tightly to his hands and pushed yourself off the ground so you were hovering over him.

“Do you feel secure?” Tom asked.

“Not in the slightest.” You quipped.

“Then up you go.” Tom smiled as he straightened his legs, lifting you fully off the ground. Both your bodies shook before you slipped a little, causing you to grip Toms hand as hard as you could.

“There, there. I got you, love.” Tom said softly as he slowly straightened his legs again. “I won’t let you fall. Don’t worry.” He assured you. He spoke so softly that you knew in your heart it wasn’t for the cameras. He showed a genuine concern for you that made your heartbeat quicken. Or maybe that was due to the fact you were suspended in the air over an incredibly suave and handsome Brit.

“Is this it? Are we doing it?” Tom said in a strained voice. You were so caught up in his charm that you hadn’t realized you actually did the pose.

“You got it.” A crew member gave you a thumbs up. Tom carefully let you down, and stood up, still holding your hand. You bit back a smile and he pretended not to notice.

“Next pose.” The member called.

You leaned against Toms shoulder as you studied the next position you had to get into.

“I don’t know about this one.” You sighed against his shoulder.

“We can do it.” Tom said confidently.

“There’s no way you can keep yourself up.” You shook your head and raised your eyebrows at Tom to taunt him. He accepted your challenge with a smirk.

“Yes I can!” He defended. “Look at this bicep.” Tom once again flexed his bicep for you and you once again felt it. You pretended to be unimpressed.

“No. You’re gonna fall.” You sighed sarcastically to push him even more.

“I can totally keep myself up.” Tom said firmly.

“You couldn’t even keep all 13 colonies.” You bit your tongue between your teeth to keep from laughing at the shock that crossed Toms face.

“Wow.” Tom touched a hand to his chest and pretended to be offended. He then leaned in to whisper in your ear, “First she doesn’t let me kiss her, and then she insults my heritage? Ouch.”

“Sorry.” You chirped and gave him a sickly sweet smile. “About both things.” He couldn’t resist his urge to grin before getting into a plank.

“Just get on my back and then I’ll lift myself up, okay?” Tom said.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this?” You accused again, making Tom smile to himself.

“Positive, love.” He said. “I spend my free time reading “How to Pick Up Girls For Dummies”.”

“How’s that working out for you?” You asked as you held onto his ankles.

“Pretty well, I’d say.” Tom remarked as he literally picked you up to complete the pose. You rolled your eyes at his humor and straightened your arms.

“Quit looking at my ass!” Tom suddenly snapped.

“I’m not!” You protested.

“I know, but you should be.” Tom said with a smirk. “You’re at its best angle.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that.” You grumbled as Tom let you down. He stood up and straightened his shirt before looking into the camera.

“For the record, when I first tried on the spiderman suit, I was surrounded by mirrors.” Tom informed the room. “So yes, I know all my angles. All of them.”

“Next one?” You asked the crew to drive the conversation away from Toms ass. The crew showed you an image and your jaw dropped.

“This one looks easy. We just get on our knees, put our pelvises together, and lean back.” Tom shrugged at it’s simplicity.

“We can’t do that pose.” You shook your head in fear.

“Why not?” Tom asked.

“I’ll get pregnant.” You said as if it were obvious. Tom burst out laughing at your words.

“Pregnant? I haven’t even kissed you yet.” Tom reminded you, making your cheeks flush.

“Yet?” You raised an eyebrow and gave him a suggestive grin as you both got on your knees. Tom gripped your hips and pulled you close.

“Oh, mark my words Y/n. I will get that kiss.” Tom whispered in your ear before leaning all the way back. You did the same until a crew member said you could stop.

“Last one.” They said and showed you the image.

“Okay, for this pose it looks like you do a plank and then I do a handstand in front of you and place my feet on your lower back.” You mapped out your plan for the pose. Tom listened intently to your words.

“And then we kiss.” Tom nodded along.

“No!” You laughed in surprise.

“They’re kissing in the picture!” He pointed time the screen. They were in fact kissing in the picture.

“That’s not a part of the pose!” You protested. “Wait a minute, are these couples poses?”

“Did you just figure that out?” Tom laughed at how naive you were to the concept of the video.

“You knew?” You gasped.

“Of course I knew. Why do you think I agreed to do this?” Tom joked as he got into a plank. You stood over him and slowly put your hands on the ground in front of his head.

“I just figured you loved yoga.” You replied as you bent over his face. Figures, he’s even cuter upside down.

“No, I love…” Tom trailed off and shook his head. “Yeah, yoga’s great. I love yoga.”

“Do you?” You giggled as you kicked yourself up into a handstand and rested your feet in his back. Tom looked up and you were suddenly mere centimeters from each other’s lips. You could see why the couple polished their pose off with a kiss. You were in perfect position for a classic Spider-Man kiss. The shy blush on Toms face let you know he was thinking the exact same thing.

“Can’t get enough, actually.” Tom said with a cheeky grin. “I’d do yoga all day if I could.” He remarked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Again with the innuendos? I cannot catch a break.” You groaned as you got off of Tom and laid on the ground to face him. He lowered himself onto the ground and rolled next to you. You gave him a soft smile.

“Hi stranger.” You said lowly so the cameras wouldn’t hear. It wasn’t for them. It was all for him.

“Hi yourself.” Tom spoke at the same gentle tone.

“You know, if these cameras weren’t here I would’ve-“

“Would have what?” Tom cut you off. “Done exactly what you did the last time the cameras were there?” He asked a little bitterly before getting up. You sighed before getting up yourself. He was hurt, and it was your fault. You shouldn’t have made that comment. He probably felt like you were ashamed to be seen with him. First the dodged kiss in front of your house, and now this. Tom didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was hurting. You’d blown it, completely and truly.

“This has been the Yoga Challenge with Tom Holland.” Tom pointed to you with a fake smile. You swallowed and put on a fake smile of your own.

“And Y/n L/n. Thanks for watching and we’ll see you next time.” You waved to the camera.

“If there is a next time.” Tom shrugged with the same frozen smile. “Because sometimes you think there will be and then there isn’t.”

Awkward silence filled the studio when no one knew what to say in response to Toms comment. The crew had no idea what he was talking about, thus making your entire face burn with embarrassment.

“Welp, good bye everybody!” He gave a friendly wave until the cameras cut away. Tom walked off set without a word to you. You watched him, heartbroken, as he walked away before sulking off set as well.

You sat in your dressing room, just staring at yourself in the mirror as you wallowed in self pity. Last time you were in your dressing room all alone, Tom came to ask you out for the first time. You had a sickening feeling he wouldn’t be coming around this time. Just as you were ready to pack up and go home, there was a knock at your door.

“Hey.” Tom said sheepishly as you opened the door. You rested your head against the door and gave him a grateful smile.

“Hey.” You said back. No further conversation ensued.

“Ooo. My favorite. Awkward silence.” Tom said after what felt like hours. You grimaced and looked down.

“Sorry.” You answered. And then you didn’t say anything else. You’d been on two dates with this man, planked over this man, and done couples yoga in matching sweatbands with this man and all you could think of to say to him was “sorry.”

“No, thats actually why I’m here. I wanted to apologize for how I acted during the video.” Tom said sincerely to your surprise. “You don’t owe my anything. Not a kiss, a date, an explanation, nothing. I’m sorry I acted like I was entitled to more of you than you were willing to give me.”

“Oh, Tom.” You sighed. Now he was apologizing when it was you who made things awkward. You should’ve just kissed him that night, no matter who saw. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Can you start with telling me what happened on our last date? I thought it went perfectly and then I tried to kiss you and you just…” Tom imitated your awkward hug with himself and you laughed sadly.

“I panicked.” You admitted.

“Because you didn’t want to kiss me?” He asked in a way that showed he was upset with the truth, but had accepted it.

“Because I really wanted to kiss you.” You promised. Tom perked up and cocked his head.

“Is this girl logic? I have three brothers, darling. Girl logic goes over my head like a summer breeze.” He said in defeat.

“I don’t know how to explain it, I’m sorry.” You twisted your finger around before giving your hair a stressful tug.

“Do you not like me? At least, not in the way I like you?” Tom asked, making you feel like you were in elementary school again.

“Of course I like you. You’re sweet and funny and charming.” You smiled as you listed his qualities, and he smiled too. “And weirdly good at yoga.”

“About that. I may or may not have been practicing.” Tom confessed.

“Why?” You wondered.

“To impress you.” He admitted. “All I ever want to do is impress you.”

“You don’t need yoga for that.” You chuckled softly. “I like you exactly as you are.”

You felt yourself slipping back to how it used to be with Tom. The icy awkwardness was melting away and the warm feelings of affection were coming through.

“So why didn’t you kiss me?” Tom asked the question that’d been on his mind since that night.

“There’s so much pressure on us, I guess I just cracked. Everything you and I have done since the Plank All Over Me challenge has been scrutinized under a microscope by new outlets trying to prove we’re dating. When you were leaning in and I saw the camera flash, it’s like I could see the headlines already. They’re gonna have a field day with us, and I hate the thought of this becoming something it’s not. Everyone’s gonna have an opinion and they’re going to try to tear us apart. This is too important to me to let the media screw it up. You’re too important.” You told Tom how you honestly felt, and it felt great to get off your chest. He smiled at your honesty and nodded in understanding.

“Okay, so, eliminate the outside pressure. No ones watching us now, are they? It’s just you and me. What do you want to happen?” He asked with a shrug.

“I want…” you bit your lip and thought about it. “I want you to get into a plank.”

“Okay, Y/n, anything you sa- wait what?” He asked in confusion.

“Get in here and get into a plank.” You commanded as you stepped aside and let him into your dressing room. Tom gave you a strange look as he walked in. Despite the odd request, Tom obeyed and got into a plank. You wasted no time in getting into a handstand in front of him and recreating the final pose you’d done for the video.

“Y/n, as much as I enjoy looking at your beautiful face upside down, why are we doing this?” He asked.

“Because I never thanked you for the incredible date you took me on.” You answered simply.

“Can we have this conversation when I’m not holding my entire body weight on my arms?” Tom laughed as his face began to redden.

“Do I get to say thank you this time?” You asked coyly.

“Wait a minute…” Tom realized you were quoting Mary Jane Watson during that scene in the original Spider-Man.

But you didn’t wait.

Not this time.

Not anymore.

You kissed Tom upside down, in true Spider-Man fashion. His lips fit against yours perfectly, even when upside down. The kiss was everything you dreamed it’d be, even if it was on the floor of a dressing room while all the blood in your body rushed to your head.

“There.” You smiled when you pulled apart. “You got your kiss.”

“And it only took two dates, two videos, and about a dozen planks to do so.” Tom teased you as you got down from your handstand and laid next to him.

“Was it worth the wait?” You looked up at him and asked.

“Worth the wait? Absolutely.” Tom stared. “Worth the pulsing ache in my biceps? Maybe.”

“Hey.” You lightly smacked his arm.

“I’m only teasing.” Tom grinned before kissing you again. It was even better right side up. “Of course it was worth it. I’d do a hundred planks for you.”

“What about a thousand?” You asked.

“Easy.” He shrugged.

“A million?” You continued.

“Child’s play.” Tom stated.

“A billion?” You asked.

“You’re completely unreasonable. I don’t think we’re going to work.” Tom said in a monotone voice.

“Oh no.” You laughed into his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. “Please take me back. I’ll do anything.”

“Even the downward dog?” He asked.

“Are you being fresh?” You sat up quickly and Toms eyes filled with panic even though you were only joking.

“No!” He was quick to assure you. “No it was a yoga pun! I promise!”

You pursed your lips at the adorable man in front of you and smiled.

“You and your innuendos.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 4

 a/n: Finally i am posting this in a normal hour😂 Re-editing the chapters are taking way more time than i expected but i think it’s worth it. If you have any questions about the characters or the storyline, don’t hesitate to ask me!

Ps: are we wondering when we will get lighter and happy themed moodboards😂

    Couple of days have passed since the divorce suit. As expected, everyone in the Ministry has found out what happened between Scarlett, Sirius and Arabelle. Because Arabelle couldn't stop talking about it like it was her victory. But her victory didn’t live long; since she was just a secretary at Auror's Department and Sirius was being the head of the department, he fired her without a second thought. Nobody could disrespect his Scarlett the way Arabelle did. Though Arabelle didn’t seem very upset by this act which made Sirius even more annoyed with her. Already Sirius has become very furious at work after the divorce and he was making it hell for everybody around him. It was very unlikely of him though; he was the funniest around, but now he was just shouting and cursing at everyone.

    Scarlett was in the other hand. She was diagnosed with depression at St. Mungo’s, she was not doing very well but she was harming herself rather than the people around her. Leo had to turn back to New York for work after his one week leave even he didn’t want to leave his mother, so Carina took Scarlett with her to Hogwarts. Because when she was alone, she was not taking her pills but having alcohol almost every day which actually she shouldn’t have. Because of that someone had to keep a close watch on her for her own safety and health. Staying Hogwarts seemed like a good idea to the twins because when Carina was too busy, Remus was taking care of Scarlett since he was working at Hogwarts too. This whole cheating and divorce situation was really hard for Remus as well because he was close friends with both Scarlett and Sirius for years and he has never seen them like that before.

"Mum after the dinner i and Professor Snape will work, we need to make some potions and rearrange the shelves. Come and help us huh?"

"He won't want me there, i will stay here."

"I asked him earlier, he accepted. And mum you can't stay in the room forever, it is not helping you."

"Apparently we changed the roles, you are the mum now Carina."

"I am trying to help mum..."

Scarlett nodded unwillingly; she didn’t want to upset Carina. "Okay fine i will come but if I feel uncomfortable, I will leave."

Carina smiled happily. "Deal! But first we should eat dinner, you passed the lunch but you have to eat now."

    Half an hour later they were heading to the potion’s classroom in the dungeons. Scarlett was quite nervous but trying to keep it cool. Carina opened the door for her and invited Scarlett in then followed her.

"Hello professor." Carina smiled to the black-haired man who was already making a potion.

"Hi." He said looking up at them while stirring the potion.

Severus was nervous as well. He hasn't seen Scarlett for almost 30 years except that one time, like a week ago, when she has come to see Carina. They have made a good job about avoiding each other for so long.

"You two didn't meet properly yet. That's my mum Scarlett and th-"

Scarlett cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "We know each other Carina."

Carina was confused, she has always talked about Professor Snape and her mum hasn’t said a word. "From where? You haven't told me that."

"We were… We were classmates." She mumbled, all the memories were coming back slowly and she wasn’t ready for them.

Severus Snape nodded without giving any further information and put a chair next to his desk for Scarlett to sit since she was trying to lean onto the desk tiredly.

"Thanks." Scarlett sat down and started to watch the two potioneers.

"Okay then, that's cool. Was mum good at potions class, Professor?" Carina asked while preparing ingredients for the potion that she was about to make.

"She was good, she was a very good student overall. She was one of the bests of our time."

"Potions wasn't my brightest class but i had Severus as my partner." Scarlett smiled ever so slightly for the first time in weeks, she has remembered the class where she has turned his hair rainbow colours in an accident.

Carina was very happy to see that tiniest smile on her face. "We learnt that you are good at potions mum, you can stir the potion while i am cutting those herbs."

Scarlett stood up to stir it but her hands were shaky and she got quite dizzy after she stood up which Carina noticed.

"Mum did you take your pills? You were supposed to take them after the dinner, I have handed them to you…"

"No... I will go and take them before you scold me." She walked out of the classroom before Carina could say anything.

Carina sighed at her mother’s behaviour.

"Is she alright…?" Snape asked trying to hide the worried tone of his voice.

"Not really. Actually, in the worst condition i have ever seen her... But i think seeing an old friend was good to her, she talked a little bit even i saw a glimpse of a smile. Maybe you can spend some time together?"

Snape paused for a moment, he wasn’t expecting a question like this at all.

"It was just an idea; you don't have to do it..."

"I... I would like to help." Snape mumbled unsurely; he would like to spend some time with Scarlett but he was also very nervous about it.

"Thank you so much professor, I really appreciate it." Carina was smiling happily when Scarlett came back silently and sat on the chair once again.

"Took the pills?"

Scarlett nodded as yes and started to look around. The classroom hasn’t changed much, only there were many more shelves now. Then a candle tin caught her eyes on Snape's desk. She took the red tin that has a rose drawing on it. Snape has noticed what she was doing and kept watching her carefully. Scarlett took the lid off and saw the fully burnt candle. That moment they caught each other’s eyes for the first time in years and had the same flashback.

~

"Sev, i made this candle for you! There are rose petals in it and i added couple drops of my perfume. Whenever you are away and miss me just burn the candle; it will smell just like me." 20 years old Scarlett giggled cutely.

"Thanks love. You've even drawn a rose on the lid, a scarlet rose." Severus said while hugging her tightly and inhaled her rosy scent in, how much he loved that scent.

"My first thought was putting my own photo on it but then ended up with the rose so it wouldn’t be as creepy." She laughed.

"I'd love your photo too." He kissed her lips softly. "I hope I will never have to burn this candle, ever."

~

"Why are you still keeping this?" Scarlett asked suddenly.

Carina was surprised by her mother's bold question; she was not the kind of woman who likes to involve things that are none of her business so that question was very unlikely of her. Also Carina was afraid of her professor’s reaction, he truly hated when someone touches his stuff without asking but she hoped her mum could get the friend pass.

"It has a memory that I would like to keep." Snape answered casually and walked to the potion shelves while trying to ignore her eyes.

Scarlett didn't say anything else and put the tin back on his desk. She was surprised that he still had it, why would he want to keep that yet alone burnt it even though he didn’t want her in his life. While she was thinking about these, Severus was lost in his own thoughts. Scarlett's presence had brought all the emotions that he was craving for years. And here she was sitting right there but he was scared to talk or even look at her. He kept arranging the shelves to distract himself from her while Carina made some potions to renew the old ones for a while.

"Professor i finished the potions you asked for, do you need any help there?"

Carina's voice brought him back to reality from his mind. "No, no thank you. If you are all done, you can leave. That’s all for tonight."

"Okay professor, have a good night." Carina smiled and packed her stuff.

"Good night." Severus said silently while still avoiding Scarlett’s gaze.

 Carina and Scarlett went back to their room and started to get ready for the bed.

"Mummy why did you ask him that question about the candle? It was so random."

Scarlett just shrugged her shoulders while brushing her copper coloured locks.

"It made him, i dunno, kind of sad? Probably it was a gift from a loved one. But to be honest it always caught my eye too because the look of it screams -you-."

Scarlett didn't answer to that as well and just laid down on the bed.

"Mum you are so talkative tonight..." Carina sighed while getting into the bed with her.

"I have a headache Carrie, i just want to sleep." Scarlett lied, she was not in the mood of talking about this at all.

"Okay, sweet dreams mama." Carina kissed her cheek.

"Sweet dreams baby."

Scarlett closed her eyes but the memories didn't let her to fall asleep, it would be a long night.

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape

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[youreacowgirllikeme]

Moments

Notes: I was a bit in the feels today, so here is some soft Chris fic nobody asked for, with a bit of angst thrown in. there may be some inaccuracies regarding the timeline, but this is fiction, so…enjoy

Warnings: swearing, slight angst

Your relationship has always been a funny one.

You’ve met three years ago when Chris was still working with you at New Day, the early mornings spent together, cracking bad jokes over the strongest coffee known to men had created a strange, but lasting sense of comradery between the two of you.

He has always been a bit of a flirt, but in a funny, nonchalant way, and there was that invisible line, that unspoken rule that the two of you would never do anything more than the occasional bantering and bickering. No feelings involved.

But still, there were the occasional moments that made you think, made you mentally recalibrate the relationship to someone you usually considered just a good friend.

The first one was on one of those early morning elevator rides, you were running late and just barely managed to sneak a hand between the closing doors. Chris was the only other occupant, nursing his coffee and snickering as he saw your slightly disheveled appearance.

“Doing some morning sport, Y/N?” he asked, and you just flipped him the bird.

“Feeling cheeky today, aren’t we?” he responded, and suddenly took a step in your direction, looking at you.

“You have a leaf in your hair.” He said, voice going oddly quiet, and then his hand reached out to pick the small green thing out of your tousled locks. Your scalp was prickling in a strange way and your heart gave a soft thump that you blamed entirely on still being slightly out of breath. Your eyes were locked with his, and for the first time you realized just what a mesmerizing shade of blue they were.

“Thank you.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome.” He murmured, eyes never leaving yours.

Then the mechanical voice of the elevator announced your arrival on the studio floor, and whatever spell there has been between you got broken by the opening doors.

“I’ll see you in the meeting room in five.” he said, and hurried out of the elevator to his office, leaving you behind trying to make sense of what just transpired between the two of you.

The situation was never brought up again, and nothing changed. You kept up your job as assistant producer, providing Chris and Alisyn with the content they needed to pull off a good show, and kept Chris ego from inflating too much with the occasional well-meant criticism or lighthearted teasing.

Then, the office Christmas party happened.

You had a blast, drinking eggnog and aimlessly swaying along to the shitty Christmas playlist some intern had put together.

Chris had brought a date, some woman you’ve never seen before. You were trying not to be annoyed by the obnoxious way she laughed about jokes Chris cracked, or how she clung to his arm like a blonde, perfumed kraken. You did your best to ignore the pair for most of the evening.

When the lady finally went to the bathroom, you approached Chris where he was leaning against a wall in a quieter corner of the office. The eggnog made you bold, so you cut right to the case.

“So, who’s blondie? Never seen her around before.” you tried your best to sound as normal as possible. “She almost died of laughter at that joke you made back there, it wasn’t even that funny.”

“Maybe she just has better humor than you.” Chris said, giving you a smirk.

“Ha, as if. You know my humor is superior.” You said, your voice coming out way louder than intended. You poked his chest with your index finger and stilled for a moment as you felt the steel hard muscle under his dress shirt. You knew he worked out, but that was new.

“Jesus, you’re drunk, Y/N.” Chris chuckled. Oh, he was going to enjoy the hell out of teasing you about this for the next weeks.

You just stared at him, trying to come up with some clever remark, but your brain felt fuzzy and funny, so you just stuck to “Shut up, Cuomo.”

He brought his face down a bit, so it was nearly on your level. He was close enough for you to get a whiff of his aftershave, he smelled heavenly.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” He said, and you weren’t sure if his tone was still teasing. You felt a blush forming on your face at the intense look he was giving you.

“Never will.” You shot back, struggling to keep your voice steady. Some strange energy was buzzing between the two of you, it was one of those moments where every outcome seemed possible.

“Chriiiis, come over, I wanna dance!”

And just like that, the moment was over, broken by the screech of Chris’s blonde side kick making her way over to you.

“Coming, just give me a moment.” He called back.

But you fled before he could say another word to you, the ugly emotion in your chest feeling a lot like jealousy now.

Blondie never showed up or was mentioned again, so you figured that whatever thing Chris had with her didn’t work out. You tried not to feel a small sense of satisfaction.

Chris, as expected, teased you mercilessly about your run-in with the eggnog, but never brought up the strange tension that sometimes was tangible when the two of you were alone together. You didn’t either and over time, it just dissolved, the two of you going back to the easy and carefree joking you were familiar with.

But sometimes, you were watching him from afar, and if you would’ve paid closer attention you would’ve noticed that he was watching you as well.

A few months later, Chris approached you during an ad break.

“Could you maybe drop by my office after we wrap it here? There’s something I need to discuss with you.” He sounded as serious as you’ve ever heard him, so you swallowed the inappropriate joke that was already on the tip of your tongue and just replied “Sure thing.” before he had to get back in front of the camera.

You tried to ignore the way your heart was fluttering when you walked down the corridor to his office after the show. It was just a chat with Chris, like you’ve already had a thousand times before, you told yourself as you tried to calm your nerves.

Except that it wasn’t.

“Prime Time? An hour, every day?” you exclaimed; excitement evident in your voice.

“Oh my God, Chris, I’m so thrilled for you, this is huge.”

Chris just beamed at you, full of pride and looking so happy that it was infectious.

“You are the first person I’m telling the news, Y/N, because I wanted to ask you to come with me and be executive producer. I can make some demands regarding certain positions, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I can’t imagine doing a show without that weird, brilliant brain of yours.” He grinned, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“You want me to be your executive producer?” you asked, a bit choked up because of all the emotions you were feeling. You didn’t really know how to respond, so you just stepped forward and threw your arm around Chris. You were too short to properly reach around his bulky frame, but you just hugged him as tight as you could, pressing your head into his chest and just whispering “I’d be honored.”

You could feel large, strong arms embracing you, and heard Chris amused voice close to your ear.

“It’s a deal then.”

You let go of him and looked up into his face. He was smiling down at you, looking so genuinely happy that your stomach gave a little flip.

One of his large hands came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t move a muscle, praying that your face wouldn’t betray the excitement you felt at having him so close.

“I could not do this without you, Y/N, thank you for trusting me, and for your loyalty. It means the world.”

“Sure thing, Cuomo.” You whispered, and it took every ounce of self-control not to close the gap between your faces and just kiss him. No, you reminded yourself, you were colleagues, and the new show was too important to jeopardize it by letting pesky feelings get in the way. So, you took a step back, quickly collected yourself, and spoke with new confidence in your voice.

“So, when are you going to tell Alisyn?”

Cuomo Prime Time was a huge success. Chris thrived on being able to plan his own show, picking out the content and guests with much more freedom than he had at New Day. Seeing him so in his element made you happy as well, and the new degree of responsibility was much less scary with him by your side. He was a confident, reliable and steady presence in the studio, and you felt like your friendship only grew stronger during the intense discussions you had while planning the next show.

Unfortunately, your crush grew as well. You’ve always been aware that Chris was smart, and a dedicated journalist on top, but being the anchor for his own show brought a more mature and sincere side out in him. He really poured his heart into the show, and yours was a little more his with each day.

You cheered for him after a he gave a successful interview, calmed him down when a guest had been particularly vile and untruthful and comforted him when right-wing nut jobs dragged him on social media, because you knew how much that got to him, even if he would never admit it.

Then, January 6th happened. Hell broke loose in Washington DC, and your team was on it the second the extent of the insurrection became known. You planned a special edition of Prime Time in light speed, and Chris was on fire, on camera as well as behind the scenes. He called on all his background contacts, gathering as much insider information as he could.

When it was announced that Trump would be impeached for the second time, Chris got into it with so much dedication and vigor that it got you slightly worried. He would spend all his time in the studio, on the phone, writing mails, tweeting, barely sleeping.

You tried to talk him into going home more than once, but he just dismissed you.

He spent the days of the impeachment trial basically living in the CNN building, the time he wasn’t on air his eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every debate that was held on the senate floor, cursing Trumps lawyers and the GOP members defending him with so much fury that you almost got scared. As it became clearer and clearer that the trial would result in an acquittal, your worry about how Chris would handle the outcome grew. And rightly so.

The acquittal was announced, and he was furious, slamming his fist on his desk and throwing his CNN mug across the room where it shattered into a hundred little pieces on the opposite wall. You had never seen Chris like that, and while it terrified you how he was behaving, you knew that you could not leave him to his own devices now.

“Damn it, go home, Y/N, I need to be alone!” He snapped at you. You flinched at his harsh words but did not back down.

“Forget it, Cuomo, you need a friend now.” You said, resolute, carefully approaching him from behind at his desk, putting your hand on his shoulders and applying some comforting pressure. But he shook you off and turned around in his chair to look at you, tension, anger and sadness coming off him in waves.

“I said.” He swallowed, his voice almost giving out. “Leave me alone.” And then he broke down, burying his face in his hands while dry, angry sobs shook his whole body. Seeing that strong, controlled man like this felt like a punch to the gut, and you carefully kneeled before him. You put your arms around his body and just held him while all the tension from the last days, even weeks, fell off. It was this moment when you realized the full extent of your emotions for Chris. There was just nothing you wouldn´t do to make sure he would never feel like this again.

When he finally calmed down and raised his head, you took his face between your hands, put your forehead against his and looked him deep in the eyes.

“They will be held accountable, I promise you. We’re going to do what we do best, we get after it and we are going to show the American people the truth.” You said, voice full of passion and conviction.

His eyes were still looking lost, but his face hardened, and he gave a single, sharp nod.

“We will. Those fuckers better get ready, because I will drag every single one of them into the light. They will not get away with that.”

“That’s the spirit I want to see.” You said, giving him a small smile.

Your hands were still on his face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move them away just yet. He still looked so vulnerable, and you slowly began to brush your thumb over his cheek.

He closed his eyes and he leaned into your touch like a cat. Seeing him like this made your heart almost jump out of your throat, you really were head over heels for him.

He was at peace for a moment, and you unconsciously leant forward until your noses were almost touching. Now was the right moment, you thought, now you would finally go for it.

But then he opened his eyes again, and they went hard as he saw how close you were. He pushed your hands away and you could feel his walls going up, shutting you out.

“What do you think you are doing.” He barked. “I don’t need a pity party, I can handle myself.” His words felt like a slap to the face, there was no sign of the man that you held in your arms some minutes ago. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes and stoop up from the floor, bringing some distance between you and Chris.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked in a quiet voice. You didn’t want to scream, because if you got yourself worked up the tears would start to fall. And there was no way he would see you crying, not now. “I was just trying to help you and be there for you.”

He gave a small, humorless laugh. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore, and you felt like you might be sick at the look he was giving you.

“Like I said, I don’t need pity, or anything else from you right now, so how about you finally leave me alone, Y/N?”

He turned his back to you, the dismissal evident in his posture.

“Chris?” you tried, but he wasn’t answering. You started to get angry, and with the anger the tears started to fall. You were almost glad he wasn’t looking at you.

“Fine, go fuck yourself then. I was trying to help, I thought we had something there…” your voice gave out with a choked sound, and you fled the office before totally breaking down in front of him.

You cried all the way home, and even there the tears didn’t stop. It hurt, more than you could’ve imagined, and even though you tried your best to distract yourself, your mind always wandered back to the way he had pushed your hands away and the harsh tone of his voice as he told you to leave him alone.

Above all, you were angry at yourself for developing feelings for him in the first place. He was complicated, and proud, and your gut had told you from the very beginning that it wasn’t a good idea to get too close. That you would just end up getting hurt. You should have listened.

You were ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell, followed by a series of sharp knocks against the door of your apartment.

“Y/N!”

It was Chris. What the hell was he doing here?

You quickly dried your eyes and made your way over to the door. You already were in your pajamas but didn’t care. It wasn’t as if you owed the guy anything.

You opened the door forcefully, anger slowly taking over. How dared he just show up here after treating you this way?

But your resolve crumbled as you took in Chris’ appearance.

He looked like shit. His suit was wrinkled, and there were bags under his bloodshot eyes. He looked like he’d been crying.

“What is it, Chris?” you said, your voice not betraying the emotional turmoil you were in. You felt anger, sadness, worry and hurt at the same time, but there also was a glimpse of hopefulness, because there had to be a reason Chris came all the way to your apartment that late in the evening.

“Y/N.” he began, and you almost started crying again at how lost he sounded.

“I am so monumentally sorry. I fucked up big time with how I treated you back there, I was so angry and confused, but that’s no excuse for the way I acted. I just wanted to let you know how deeply sorry I am, and I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, and your heart hurt seeing him like this. But still, you had to address the elephant in the room. Because there was no way he hadn’t noticed what you were about to do back in his office. He was no fool, and he owed you at least a talk about it.

“Chris, I forgive you.” You said, and he breathed out on relief.

“But we have to talk about what happened. You knew what I was about to do. And I am sorry if I read too much into your behavior towards me, I just really thought we were having a moment. But the way you reacted, the way you looked at me like you did…it is totally okay if you don’t feel the same way for me, but do you really hate the idea of us that much that you had to look at me as if you were disgusted by me? I thought we were at least friends.” You stopped as you felt your voice starting to break again. Saying this out loud hurt so much, you just wanted to go back to your bed and cry some more.

Chris looked like someone had punched him in the face.

“Oh no, no shit, please Y/N-” He paused, rubbing his face with his hands in exasperation.

“I thought you were just taking pity on me.” He said in a small voice you had never heard from him before. “Jesus, Y/N, I am an angry, bitter man. And I am much older than you. I never saw a chance for us, but I’m selfish, so I kept you close. You are way too good for me, and I didn’t want to have a moment with you only for you to realize how messed up I am afterwards. I never even thought about the possibility of you feeling the same way.”

He sounded as if he still couldn’t believe it.

You just stared at Chris. His hands were fidgeting, he looked so nervous and hopeful, and your heart was soaring, the force of your feelings for him almost overwhelming you.

“God, Cuomo, you are such a damn idiot.”

And with that, you threw yourself into his arms and kissed him. He responded right away, embracing you and holding you so close to his chest that you could feel his racing heartbeat. His lips were warm and soft, and his body fit into yours as if you were made for each other. It felt wonderful and goosebumps were breaking out all over your body as Chris tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slowly sliding across your bottom lip.

You never wanted to let go, but you were still standing in the hallway in front of your apartment, and you were wearing your pajamas.

You reluctantly broke the kiss, but Chris cupped your jaw and drew you close for another one, short and sweet this time.

“I can’t just stop after finally getting what I want.” He said softly.

Your heart gave a little jump at his words, and you pressed another kiss to his lips.

“You can get as many of them as you want but come inside first. I don’t want my neighbors to see me like this.”

“I actually think your sleepwear is pretty cute. Pink, I like it.”

You smacked his arm in a playful manner and when he smiled back at you, everything felt right in the world.

[leanarg]

Practice Challenge II

((Hi again! So, these are 3 fics in one post! Including my first two rps with @ladyreggiewright​ (our very first one after ages not doing this so asdfghk) and with @wylan-caldwell​ I had so much fun doing both, so thank you, guys! <3 Thanks for reading too, hope you enjoy them as much as I stuggled writing them ;P  Google Docs link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ARTjqveFJ1njDc2LL0PU4C0ShN2jlO9JC1Imt9MDTh8/edit?usp=sharing ))

A CHANGE OF LUCK

“Alright, y’all ready?” Rita said with a loud voice vibrating with nervousness. “The speeches are over. In the next block, Prince Arin will be picking the names.” That was her fifth lap around the entertainment office floor and she just couldn’t stop repeating what Vandy Post had already announced before each round of commercials. I knew she was trying to act authoritative, but seeing her in this state was always amusing.

It wasn’t unusual that the building was bursting with energy this late at night. The pre-press team always stayed working on putting together the bulldog broadsheets content and adding the last details, then sent the whole thing before the deadline to the press team operating on the last floor, where they were all in charge of the printing process. I would dare to say there was activity in this place 24/7. But this particular night, we were focused on The Report. The streets looked almost empty from up here, everyone was at home in front of their TV waiting for the names of the lucky girls randomly picked by a drawing of names out of different crystal boxes. 35 provinces, 35 boxes, 35 names. 

My attention had been focused on Arin’s stern expression. His life was about to be decided by fate, or as many people want to call it, destiny. I wonder what was he thinking, standing there expressionless, willing to uphold his duty. 

Is he excited? Is he nervous? Is he wishing he could run away from that room and leave all this tradition behind?

My name was inside of one of the boxes, so I should had been even more anxious and edgy than Rita herself, but, after the PET Gala fiasco, where: I hadn’t gotten the clues I was so close to getting, I hadn’t finished the job I was supposed to be doing and my one month salary had been reduced to half; I was certain that whoever was in charge of my luck was not very fond of me. 

“They are back!” Rita shouted as soon as Arin’s face reappeared. Everyone in the room fell silent. I scoffed a laugh when I noticed them unconsciously leaning slightly towards the big tv, but I ended up doing the same after adjusting my glasses. One by one the basic information of the selected were being transcribed from the screen to our devices as Arin picked out their papers. 

<< “From Allens, Idalia Moretti, from Angeles, Emily Rose White,... from Honduragua, Callia Adair…” >>

My fingers were moving fast across my cellphone’s keyboard. These were the girls we would be hearing a lot about  from now on and I needed to know everything about them.

<< “From Labrador, Lea…” >>

I froze. My head felt dizzy trying to take in what I had just heard. For the shortest of seconds, everyone’s eyes were on me. I could hear Rita’s voice instructing them to get back to work and maybe someone else was now in charge of The Globe’s blog but at that moment I couldn’t care less about that.

It’s really happening... I made it to the selection!

Finally, I could stand up. I was feeling so much energy inside me that I wanted to run. Suddenly, the lift made a sound and my dad came quickly out of it and … wait, my mom is here? She was carrying my sleepy little brother, Dean. 

I could read the shock on my parents’ faces.“I’m in!!” I said a little too loud but since Mr. Grant was there no one dared to complain. My dad let out a short laugh before extending his arms for an embrace. “Congratulations, Rosie, I knew it would happen, didn’t I tell you V?” He said to my mom. “Grants always get what they want.” 

Ugh, I wish. But I wasn’t going to argue with him right now, so I just offered him a wink.

As soon as my father let go, my mom surrounded me with her free arm. “So how does it feel to be a lady, huh? We have to celebrate this!”

“Well, do ladies feel hungry this late? Cause I wasn’t feeling it a moment ago.” “Yes, let’s leave these guys to work in peace.” my dad said suddenly remembering where we were. After clearing his throat as if that simple gesture was a switch between the dad and the boss, he talked with Rita to make sure someone had replaced me updating the blog, then he congratulated everyone for their dedication and finally wished them good night. “I just hope you are paying me the full day,” I said to my dad as we all headed outside.

“I mean, are you working right now?” He raised an eyebrow, mockingly.

I sighed “I guess Grants can’t always get what they want after all.”  And I meant it in more than one way. 

The next week ran fast. My father and I agreed that I had to keep going to the office as usual, but it wasn’t easy to balance my work and my phone ringing every 5 minutes. More than once I had to ride home in the middle of the day because someone was waiting for me at home. 

First, a man with a very peculiar face came to do some kind of interrogation, which was understandable until we got to the most uncomfortable, personal ones. I almost spit my coffee laughing until I realized he had no intention to leave until he got every answer to each one of the questions on his list. 

Like him, I received a tailor and a doctor; but it wasn’t until the press started to ask for interviews when I realized my life had made a turn of 360 degrees. 

The thing I lamented the most about this odd schedule was that I couldn’t travel to the provinces to interview some of the selected as we had planned, but I did take advantage of every opportunity I had to do deep research about them. 

Some of the names or last names could be found on old newspaper editions, there were tragedies, accomplishments, unfortunate events… I smiled to myself, while I made annotations on my journal, fascinated by all the different interesting lives that were about to gather under the same roof. And I guess somehow that included mine.

The farewell party organized by Labrador’s Mayor seemed more like a political campaign than a real party. I might have fallen asleep during his speech if I hadn’t been texting Harris for the 40th time that week.

The last time I knew something about him was the night of the announcement when he sent me a simple “Congratulations, Lady Lea.” Then as the photographer, he had to go with Rea to the half-tour over the country to cover the selected interviews. 

“How dare you not be here when you are needed,... you lucky mooncalf.”

I looked up to see the crowd from my place on the big platform set in the middle of the Amberly park. It hadn’t been a very good idea, because there were grey clouds gathering over us and the sun was partially covered by them already. 

Someone forgot to check the weather section today.

But the trees surrounding us were decorated with purple and green metallic balloons -the colors of our province- and there were several signs with good wishes so I appreciated the effort. 

Everyone was here; The Globe employees that didn’t like me at all, my family on the first row, my college best friend, Liv had made space on her busy schedule  to come to the event, even my grandmother had sent his chauffeur with presents. That was her way to show support and I honestly didn’t have any complaints.  After the Mayor’s speech, the great boss Maxwell Loyd took the microphone to speak, I rolled my eyes, not caring about the people in front of me. He didn’t waste this opportunity to promote himself and flatter me. I mean, if he really had thought all that about me I would have had a promotion and a raise already, instead I just got ridiculous instructions and a handshake. 

When they both finally finished, the rain had started to pour, plus it was almost time for me to leave for the airport. I buttoned my coat before taking my place behind the microphone to start talking, but the eyes of the lady in charge of my schedule forced me to skip until the end of the speech I had prepared the night before. Every time I was going to make it sound deep and sentimental she made a sign for me to hurry.

“I appreciate your support… I will do my best… thank you for coming.”  

Were the only complete sentences I managed to say under such pressure. There was clapping and cheering afterwards, but there was after the previous boring speeches as well, so I didn’t get too excited about that. 

“Have a good time, my Lea.” My mother said after kissing my brow. I could smell her sweet perfume that I was going to miss. “I will, mom. Take care, I’m only leaving cause I know you are going to be in charge.” I side eyed the two men of the house. Then I kissed my little brother and messed his blond hair. “Bye bye little toad.” He just babbled something and waved his little hand. 

“So, Lady Grant. What do you expect from Prince Arin? Do you secretly plan to drink all the coffee from the Angele’s Palace? Rumor has it your father won’t let you marry until you turn 48 years old do you think Your Highness would wait for you that long?” “Wow, Mr. Grant you ask pretty basic questions, I have been asked the same ones all week.” He gave me a big tight hug and I ignored the wool of his coat feeling  itchy on my cheek. “I’m very proud of you Leana, and of course I’m not talking about this selection situation… I’m sorry about-” I stopped him not wanting to have our little disagreements as today’s last memory. And I also hoped I could change his mind by the time I returned home. “We can talk about that when I come back, dad.” He nodded. “I’m starting to feel bad for our dear Prince Arin.” I scoffed a laugh.

“Lady Grant, we are past the established hours already.” I heard a lady behind me. 

I turned to my friend Liv with an apologetic expression but she just smiled and waved. “I will text you… Bye! The rain started to fall harder but I had read the weather section on the paper this morning so I was properly dressed with boots and a coat over my white shirt and black pants. 

I walked towards a guard who was holding an opened umbrella to cover us with it. He opened the door of the car.  Then he offered to take my bag for me, but I had packed some of my old journals in there among my personal things. “Thank you… What’s your name?” “Finn Ray, my lady.” He answered confused. “I will keep this here with me, Finn.” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone before entering the car. I guessed he was new at guarding selected, because I noticed him turning to look at the woman in charge of the schedule. She nodded once at him and joined me inside the limousine. 

By the time we got to the airport I had learned that our chauffeur was called Alan Cobb, he had been working for the palace for 3 years on special occasions. He had three kids and his wife was expecting a baby girl. 

The strict lady was Miss Ramirez, she was happily single, obviously tardiness was her biggest pet peeve and she had worked there for 6 years already, but she enjoyed her job and had never thought of doing anything else, although I didn’t quite understand exactly which was her role in the royal offices of Labrador.

She left me at the boarding door after wishing me luck.

The flight to Angeles was long. I shared a plane with 3 others selected, that seemed pretty decent at first sight. 

We had a polite introduction conversation before we took off, but then everyone focused on her own thing; Jen Li, -the Yale law student from Waverly- took advantage of the 8 hours flight to sleep. Alana Hansen looked out from the window almost the whole time lost in her thoughts, and based on the green tone on Regina Wright’s face I guessed she was a risky company for the moment. 

I remembered I had read about her parents' unfortunate plane accident in an old newspaper, they used to be famous politicians and she was an apple that had fallen close to the tree. Hopefully not too close.

So, considering my options I prefer to write in my journals during the whole trip.

As soon as we arrived we were hurried to a room for makeovers. For me it felt more like a day in the salon, nothing drastic was made, just a few lights on my hair, perfect makeup and a stunning blue dress with matching elegant pump heels shoes. 

They did insisted on giving me contact lenses, since I had forgotten to pack mine, so after a long argument with the stylist, Mariel, I decided to wear the contacts and let him enjoy “his creation”. 

In the end, despite the little changes, when he showed me my reflection in the mirror, I had to recognize I was content with the  upgraded version of me.

                                       ESSENTIAL RESEARCH

The tour around the palace was quite short considering its size. I was almost sure that it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, but the curiosity to see my new room, made me settle with the basic information,

I took a glance down at the little map on my hand. Eloise Hall room 28, second floor. As I headed to the stairs, the decorations and fancy details surrounding me were impossible to ignore. With every step you could find paintings by famous old artists -my mother admired- hanging on the walls, expensive vases and beautiful furniture. 

Looking around I spotted one of the selected quickly scribbling some notes in a notebook. As I got closer I noticed she was my plane mate, Regina Wright. Her green tone had disappeared or maybe covered with makeup and she looked much more secure now that we were down here on earth soil. 

I laughed a little bit inside walking by her side “Hope whatever you are writing is worth a bump on your head.”  

“I hope so too” She said absentmindedly, not looking up from her notebook. After some seconds she took a short look at me, flipped through her notebook and quickly closed it before I could react and lean discreetly to read what she was working on. 

Okay, now I’m curious.

“Excuse me, hi. Leana is it?” She gave me a polite smile. 

“Yes, feeling better... Regina..? I asked faking ignorance. 

She looked at me as she didn’t know why I was asking her that but then just answered, “Splendid. But please, call me Reggie.”

We continue walking up the stairs towards the second floor, while we shook hands, 

“I'm Leana Grant but you can call me Lea or Lee” I said touching the arc of my glasses I had put back on as soon as I left the makeover room.

She nodded. “Alright, Lea. Journalist, correct?” She made her pen click as if she was going to start writing again. I frowned, puzzled. “You too?” 

She chuckled at the question as if I should already know who she was. And the truth was, I did. 

“No,” she finally said, opening her notebook again, adding something, then she continued. “So, what brings you here?”

I was sure Reggie had many qualities but subtlety wasn’t one of them. 

I pressed my lips together, thinking about my motives, which one of them should I tell her? I’m here as an inside informant for The Globe; or, I’m here to live and learn about this whole selection phenomenon… I didn’t even know which one was the right answer.  “... just figured I couldn't miss this whole thing, you know.” 

Half- truths are always safe.  

“Are you here for politics?” I added before she could even think about my answer. 

She looked pleasantly surprised by my question, clearing her throat. “Yes, that is one of the reasons.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You did your research.” 

I guess it was my turn to feel recognized, but unlike her I didn’t want to be so obvious, so I shrugged. “Your name rang a bell.” 

She looked at me suspiciously, lifting her chin, a slight movement I didn’t quite understand. “Is that so? That's good, I suppose. Best to be prepared.”

“Maybe you are right, I guess you actually did your research. What do you have about me?” I asked directly now, pointing at her notebook casually.

She remained serious. “Oh, just the usual. Occupation, caste, age.  Name, obviously.  There's 35 of us after all. Would be a shame to get anyone mixed up.”

“Well, now most of us are threes and the twos are pretty well known.”

“Yes well, obviously. Was to be expected. It's still an appropriate mix.”

Her statement made me remember her parents somehow, obviously she had their school but I wonder how much she agreed with them. “That’s... a word to describe it, yes.” I answered incredulous, “So where are you staying?” I asked, as I noticed I have already found my room.

We discovered we were room neighbors which I decided was very convenient for me. I liked people who have answers to my questions. 

She was concerned about my acoustic guitar hobby and I assured her I hadn’t brought mine with me. “The music room will do.”  And she assured me her studying was going to be silent. 

The conversation continued but my curiosity was already unbearable, so I opened the door of my room to check it out. I didn’t want to be rude so I invited Reggie inside as we talked.

“What are you working on?” I stepped inside

She followed. “Political Science Major.”

I gave her a glance to let her know that was not the answer I was looking for. 

She blinked with realization. “Oh, I see I misunderstood. Well, actually I was just writing a paper on the pros and cons of capitalism and if our country should focus more on it like we did when we were still called the 'United States'” She air quoted the name.

I looked around my room considering her answer. Suddenly my eyes met with three maids standing in line in the middle of the room. When they saw us they made a courtesy and I nodded at them as a greeting, hoping we can have proper introductions later.

“Hmm the lesser of evils... but the United States not exactly an example to be followed.” I said to Reggie. 

“Exactly.” She said. I noticed her writing a mark in her notebook.  

“A-are you like grading me?” I dared to ask what I had suspected since the beginning, but I didn’t want to believe. It was shocking at first but after the third mark it became amusing.

“Who else do you have in there?” I asked curiously before running next to her to peek at her notebook.  She closed it again. When I looked at her she smiled at me awkwardly “No, of course not. Just remembered something.” Her notebook was behind her back, now out of my reach. She straightened her shoulders before adding, “Well, thank you kindly for your invitation, glad to have met you…”

I stayed there confused, Had I gotten it wrong? Or was I right and she didn’t want me to know? Anyway, I should have said nothing.  “Alright ... glad to meet you too, see you around.” I said worried that she might be uncomfortable now. 

She nodded as she headed to the door. One of the maids hurried to hold the door for her. 

I frowned concerned, I couldn’t just lose a source like her. “Wait for me tomorrow, I think we can walk to the dining room together.”

She turned to give me a frown, seemingly confused by my suggestion. “But I already know where it-” then she smiled. “I will.”

As soon as Reggie left I took out the journal from the pocket of my dress and tossed on the pretty desk by a large window where I peered at the view of the Angeles city.

                                                                                       FOR THE RECORD.

After introductions my maids brought me dinner up to my room. So while I was eating the best creamy mustard chicken I ever had, we had a little chat. 

Among other things we talked about I expressed my surprise when I didn’t see any Royals when we arrived. Liberty, Camila and confirmed the Schreaves didn’t plan to meet any selected tonight, we would have to wait until morning. Queen Anjeli and Princess Ayesha had to leave the palace to attend important matters and Wylan Caldwell in spite of not being a selected was currently living in the Palace. Back in Labrador, I managed between college, work and extra work to fill my schedule, my mother never liked me being out of the house so late at night or sometimes not being able to have a complete breakfast in the morning, I enjoyed being busy and drive my Vespa from one place to another, but it was hard for me to admit that one of the reasons I liked my life that way was that besides when I was concentrated writing notes on my iTypewriter; I was not good at being alone with my thoughts. That’s why when I was a child my mother bought me a ukulele to play when I was feeling anxious, which gave excellent results. Later when I entered college I took a short guitar course with the same purpose. 

Therefore, later that afternoon, when my maids went back to their chores, leaving me alone I decided to leave my room to check out the music room, as I promised Reggie I would do. 

It took me some minutes to find the right door downstairs but my memory had never failed me and it wasn’t going to start now. 

I opened the third door in the west hall and peeked inside. I felt relieved when I saw the big piano in the last corner and dared to walk inside. Besides the piano, there were several instruments resting on their stands spread around the room, most of them to play classical music, but luckily, an acoustic guitar was among them. I was going to pick it up to test it when I spotted shelves full of old vinyl records. 

I walked towards the vinyl record player, it had a beautiful vintage look, it’s big horn imitated the ancient gramophones used during the Victorian years, but I suspected to be a more recent model. 

I noticed someone had left a classic record on, I wonder which one of the Royals had been listening to it as I moved the tonearm onto the outer edge of the disk, the little diamond tip to touch the groove. 

I guess I still remember how to use one of this. 

I stretched my arm and pulled one of the discs from the upper shelf, the others came down with it and  << "KNEEE-KNEEE!!" >>

The blaring sound of violins vibrated around the room making me wince for the annoying sound filling my ears.

“Damn!” I covered my ears while trying to find a way to turn the bloody record player off before my head exploded. Overwhelmed by the sound I went on my knees and stretched my hand behind the furniture looking desperately for the plug, but before I could find any the music stopped. 

I stood up still touching my ears 

Have I gone deaf? 

“I take you didn’t mean to do that.” I heard someone say behind me. 

Okay, I haven’t 

I turned around to find a guy eyeing me warily, from the corner of my eye I noticed a laptop and a couple of heavy leather books that weren't on the table before. 

“I was considering turning it on but it made the decision for me,” I said without explaining. 

At that moment, a couple of guards came into the room alarmed. They scanned the room quickly before looking at us puzzled. 

Wylan followed my gaze and turned to them, slightly. “Just a mishap. We’re fine.” He acknowledged with a wave of his hand. I let out a sigh of relief as they left the room to return to their posts.

“First time using a record player?” He asked to continue teasing

I gave him a deadpan look. “Ha-ha I take that the last person who played it had some hearing problems.” Before I crouched to pick up the rest of the vinyl records still scattered on the carpeted floor, I noticed a smile tugging at his lips that didn’t last.

In a minute he was bending in front of me to help. “You picked some good ones.”

Suddenly we looked at each other for a second, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at his for a second trying to figure any sign of sarcasm in them, and he just had the word “awkward” written all over his face. Obviously I was making him feel uncomfortable. 

I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so busy trying to read him. 

“I like classics- acoustic to be precise.” I finally said with a shrug. “Do you own any of these?”

“This John Mayer one is mine. I have some other ones too. They’re over there.” He gestured to the rack behind me, then stood up with the vinyls he helped pick up.

I raised my eyebrow and nodded approvingly. “You have some taste, I will give you that.” I looked up at him, waiting for him to offer his hand for me to help me stand, but apparently living in a castle was no guarantee of anything, so I just stood up slowly, brushing my dress. 

“Some were gifts I grew to love.” He acknowledged, holding the vinyls out for me. “I’d recommend keeping the volume down before you turn it on next time.”

I took the discs to put them back in its place on the shelves “Well, you should put a sign somewhere,” I joked, a bit annoyed by his recommendation. 

I adjusted my glasses and stayed standing there, admiring the vinyl records once more. My curious mind wondered about the Prince. “Which ones are Arin’s?”

“I’m not sure. He might not own any.” I caught him glancing at his things he had left on the table before back to me. “Might be a good question to ask him yourself.”

Or you’re just evading the question. But fortunately, one of the things my job had teached me was to have thick skin so I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily. 

“You really don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” I asked with an amusing tone.

He let out a small sigh, relenting a bit. “He likes The Killers. There’s probably a vinyl or two of those in here if you really need a good conversation starter.”

I faked a grimace “ugh! that piece of information should’ve hurt…” I said mockingly before adding. “I guess some advice for tomorrow’s interview is completely out of the table.” 

“Depends on what advice you’re looking for,” he let out, surprising me. 

I started to walk around the room still looking at him, considering my answer. “I don’t know, you are his friend... knowing a little bit about his personality would help,” I said casually, as if I didn’t already have thousands of questions listed in my head. 

But somehow he knew I did. “I’ll answer one question you have. Just one.”

“So generous …” I said more to myself than to him. My hand went unconsciously inside the pocket on my dress and my fingers touched my journal inside of it, purely out of habit. Of course, I wasn’t going to take it out so I crossed my hands in front of me as I resumed my walking around the room. 

“Okay…” In my mind I was looking for a single question that could indirectly tell me things about Arins personality … and why not about Mr. Uncomfortable himself too. 

“How do you start getting along back in college, like how did you become friends?”

Suddenly he let out a laugh, startling me. I frowned at first, but then I decided it wasn’t so bad, it picked my curiousness further.

I looked at him genuinely amused and he begined, “We were both going for runs and without knowing, I drifted a little too close. I was listening to music and not paying attention. His bodyguard sort of…” He paused to bring his fist to his neck simulating a punch. “And took me down.” I could see he was amused, for real. 

I laughed picturing the scene on my mind, considering all his previous teasing and had to admit it was a little bit entertaining to do so. “Ouch! His bodyguard does look ... fierce.” I commented remembering the man’s complexion I had seen several times on TV.

I wait for him to continue before asking, “what happened next? What did Arin say?”

His smile was more like a ghost on his face now, not physically there but somehow still present. “He apologized. After that we found out we shared a couple classes together and I offered to help him study for exams.”

“That’s an epic story… I bet it left you marked for some days.” I made a grimace, touching my neck, imagining the pain.

“Swallowing hurt, to say the least,” he said, remembering. After a minute, he combed a hand through his hair. “ Did that satisfy your question?”

“Hmm yeah, it was good, for now” I answered scoffing a laugh. The truth was I didn’t expect to enjoy his story that much, but I just couldn’t settle with only one question, but it wasn’t convenient to push more questions on him now. 

Fortunately he didn’t refuse, he just rolled his eyes at me, amused. “Alright, well I have to get back to work. At least try to not deafen the entire palace again.”

“I can’t promise anything.” I let out, finally taking the acoustic guitar from its stand, while he turned to gather his things.

“Reassuring.” He gave me a side glance and started walking out the room, he offered a two fingered salute before disappearing behind the opened door. 

After a second, while looking down at the guitar already in place on my lap, I compelled,  “Wylan... thanks!”

“You're welcome.” 

I heard him say from the hallway just before I started strumming the guitar strings, hoping its sound was enough to help me survive the first night. 

[plague-of-insomnia]

So Andre suggested I post my serial original fiction, In/Exhale, on AO3.

The thing is, I wrote season 1 in like 2012, and it was the first time I had tried to write the story for a public audience... so I would have a huge urge to re-write/Re-edit it (again)... but I honestly don’t really have the time/energy for that.

Would anyone be interested in reading it via AO3?

(In its current state. You can read it via free downloadable ebook on my site right now.)

It’s on on-going series, with three complete seasons so far, probably like 300-500K words.

I know several of you expressed interest in reading some of my original work. When I asked that question I wasn’t thinking of I/E, but it is a story very close to my heart.

Here is some info about the story from my website:

Here’s a tiny excerpt from the first episode (abridged):

Kai tried to bite back the wave of regret that swept over him. Sure, he’d lost a few years, but that was behind him. He had a future now, one he hadn’t thought would be possible, and he needed to focus on that. He’d put the past firmly behind him, and focus on the now, on the possibilities ahead of him instead. And none of these people had to know any of it, if he could help it.

It only took a few minutes to reach the third floor, and Kai shuffled out behind a couple of cute girls. He wondered if he could ever bring himself to get close to someone again. Not just in bed--he had Nikki for that, and what they had was incredible--in fact, he planned on seeing her tonight after his classes. But growing up as an orphan in a home, he'd always dreamed of having a family someday. A wife whom he loved, and who loved him, some kids. Most of his life that had been as big a fantasy as flying, but then he'd met Becca. Becca, who he'd thought could maybe be the one, who would stick with him despite everything.

Kai felt his hands balling into fists as he wandered down the hall for his first class. New start, new start, he thought, fighting his fingers' instinct to sign the words as he finally found room 312, shuffling in behind a few other students.

Room 312 was one of the large auditorium-style lecture halls on campus, with stadium seating leading up in tiered rows, divided into three sections by stairs. It was still early; class didn't start for at least another twenty minutes, so plenty of seats lay empty. Kai glanced at the front row, where there were gaps obviously intended for wheelchairs and sighed despite himself before turning his attention to the stairs and the far top back of the room. Troy had told him to push himself as far as he reasonably could, and although he had avoided stairs as a general rule for most of his life, he decided to give them a try.

Without his crutches or a handrail it was harder than it could have been, and halfway up Kai debated stopping. But he'd been trapped at the bottom of rooms like this so often in his life, and the thrill of his breath coming so easily even as his exhalations and inhalations grew quicker and shallower, encouraged him to keep going.

When he finally reached the top, he collapsed in the first available seat, staring down and reveling in his achievement. He knew it was silly, and it wasn't like he'd ever seen a mountain, but he realized this must be what it felt like to climb one and look down, admiring the view, knowing what you did to earn it. It wasn't the most practical seat for various reasons.

Kai was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't realized a girl had sat down beside him. It was her aroma that got him first; one of the things Kai had enjoyed most since he'd been extubated post-transplant was getting his sense of smell back. She smelled delicate and floral; he couldn't quite place the exact scent, but it was subtle and lovely. A body spray, perhaps, instead of a perfume. Certainly not pungent enough to provoke an attack if this had been before.

When he turned his head, he realized she'd been staring at him, and for a moment, he grew nervous. Had his collar dipped or come undone and she could see his trache scar? He knew it was creepy looking, especially if you'd never seen anything like it before. Reflexively, he brought his fingers to his neck, and maybe she sensed she'd been staring, because she blinked, shook her head, and smiled.

"Sorry." She cleared her throat. "I'm Renee Poche," she said. Her voice was soft and sweet like her scent; clearly, she wasn't from the Midwest.

"Kai Fox," he replied, offering his hand, reluctantly dropping it from his throat.

She smiled. God, she had a beautiful smile. She was petite; it was hard to tell how tall now that they were sitting, but it was yet another indication that she wasn't from around here. Her hair was dark--almost black--and curly. Kai didn't know much about women, but it looked natural, her thick tendrils perfectly framing her face in a managed chaos he found entrancing despite the fact that Becca also had curly hair.

"That's an unusual name. You a freshman?" She asked as she pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag.

Kai flushed slightly, realizing how silly it was for his body to react this way. "Yeah." He couldn't manage to say more than that.

She flipped her desk out and laid her supplies on it, smiling the whole time. "I'm an architecture student, so my program's five years. I'm a second-year right now. But I put off most of my core classes last year, so here I am."

Kai grinned despite himself. He wanted to touch her curls, feel their softness on his skin, never stop smelling her unique floral scent. His stomach churned and he knew immediately he wanted to know more about her--everything. Suddenly, his chest grew tight, and his face paled. No. This hadn't happened since. . . . Reflexively, he dropped his hand to his right pocket, feeling the inhaler beneath his palm.

"You OK?" Her face was so concerned and sincere, and she'd reached for him, placing a warm, tiny hand on his arm.

He stared at it, forced himself to take a few slow breaths, realizing he was OK. They'd experimentally grafted the most important nerves, so he had more sensation than most transplant patients, but it was different than before, something he was still getting used to. The tightness could have been his imagination. How was it that this girl he hardly knew, whom he'd just met, could make him feel so off kilter? He eased his lips into a smile to reassure her and give backing to his words.

"Yeah. Sorry." He swallowed. "First day jitters, I guess," he added with a bit of a blush.

She laughed, a musical, lilting sound that made him grateful for his hearing. "So what classes are you taking this semester?"

Kai thought a moment. "World History I, English Comp, Intro to Philosophy, Intro to Psych."

The professor had arrived and was setting up for the lecture, writing "World History I, H101, MILLER" on the white board.

"Me too," she said. "I mean, I have those same classes. We should sit together in them, too."

Kai felt a warm flutter in his stomach. "I'd like that."

Renee looked as if she were about to say something else when the professor cleared his throat and began to speak. He was a short, chubby, bearded man, or perhaps his height was an illusion created by the distance, dressed almost stereotypically in khakis, simple button-up, and tartan sportscoat with brown patches on the elbows.

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to World History I. This course will fulfill your common curriculum requirement, but only if you study hard and pass my exams."

Kai knew he should be taking notes, but he'd nearly forgotten himself, so entranced by Renee, so he fumbled for his bag to grab a notebook and his own pen. It could have been his imagination, but she seemed to be casting glances at him every few minutes, smiling the entire time.

"Many people ask, 'why study history?'" Professor Miller leaned on his podium as if he were studying the class, taking everyone in one by one. With nearly three-hundred students in this section, there was no way he could know them all, and Kai knew he and Renee were just two in a sea of faces. "Of course, the easy answer is 'because then we're doomed to repeat it.' However, I think life is far more complicated than that."Professor Miller abandoned his podium and crossed so he was nearer to the first row of students, laying one arm across his stomach and balancing his opposite elbow in the palm of his hand, supporting his chin on his fist. "I believe that the past, however behind us it may seem, is never truly gone." Miller again searched the faces in the crowd, and for a split moment, despite being dozens of feet away, Kai felt as if their eyes met, and his pulse quickened, nervous, but not sure exactly why. He glanced over at Renee, partially so he didn’t have to look at the professor, and partially to simply steal a peek at her. She had her head bent over her paper, as if she were taking notes, but he could see from here her page was blank.

"The past is always a part of us, and as much as we may like to forget that, not only can't we, we mustn't." Professor Miller nodded his head, then turned his back on the audience.

Kai knew Miller wasn’t speaking to him, couldn’t be speaking to him, but why did his words feel so personal? And why couldn’t one forget the past? Kai had done it before, shifting dark memories into the deep recesses of his brain, never talked about, never thought about. Why should now be any different?

[cinnalock]

Mond Twins Profile (TWST)

((Okay, my original plan was that I was just going to stew on their backstory until we learned more about Twisted Wonderland’s world and lore, but after looking through old Disney movies, I was struck with inspiration and decided to create their backstories from that inspiration.

Last Edited: 5-15-2020, added TWST-profile information))

BASIC INFO

FULL NAME(S): Thomas Mond / Katherine Mond

GENDER: male / female

AGE: 18

BIRTHDAY: November 21

STARSIGN: Scorpio

HEIGHT: 188cm / 173cm

EYE COLOR: green

HAIR COLOR: burnt orange

HOMELAND: Kingdom of Prophecy (original), Land of Pyroxene (lie/fabricated backstory)

DORM: Ignihyde / Chateau Beastiale

SCHOOL YEAR: 3rd

CLASS: 3-C (13) / 3-B (17)

OCCUPATION: student, freelance entrepreneurs

CLUB: board game / gardening research

BEST SUBJECT: ancient incantations / obstacle run

DOMINANT HAND: right

FAVORITE FOOD: chestnuts (chicken curry=favorite dish)

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: caviar / strong cheeses

DISLIKES: dancing / big dogs

HOBBY: flute playing / shopping

TALENTS: herbology / playing the electone

APPEARANCE

picture by AmberAnimeCommission

Thomas is a young lad of standard build and a lean, strong body. He has long, dark orange hair normally kept in a loose braid. He has narrow, but kind eyes that are a deep green color. He wears glasses due to farsightedness.

Katherine is a young lady of standard build with an hourglass shape. She has long, dark orange hair normally kept in a loose braid. She has gentle, but mature eyes in a shade of vibrant green. She wears glasses due to nearsightedness.

The Tale of Red Fur 

((This is the twins’ backstory in “story” form. It’s inspired by the mystique, “hinting at original Disney lore” way Twisted Wonderland references old Disney characters and aspects.))

Several hundred years ago, a glorious kingdom stood strong under its reigning king. On a cold autumn morning, a harsh winter threatened to swarm through the land in due time, the king's young grandson watched in horror as a hawk descended upon an innocent squirrel. The young boy tried so hard in vain to strike the bird down with his bow and arrow, and watched as the hunter disappeared into the forest with his prey. Downcast at being unable to save the small creature's life, the prince withdrew his attack, and began heading back to the castle until the sounded of distressed chirping rang through his ears. Tracking the source of the noise, he came upon a nest of two squirrel kits, their fur matching the shade of the victim he'd seen earlier. For awhile he waited in hiding for the mother's return, and when she did not and the cries grew louder, he resigned that the poor kits were truly orphaned.

The prince retrieved the kits from their nest, their concerned, confused cries deafening his ears before they fell silent with exhaustion, soothed to sleep by the warmth of his palms. He returned to the castle with his furry boon, asking for the king's guidance in how to care for the creatures. Seeing the kits' warm shade of red fur, a fond memory befell the king. A memory of his youth, one full of exhilaration...and the slightest pang of guilt. The king smiled at his grandson, assuring the young boy they would do everything to help the kits survive the winter.

The kits were doted upon by the king and prince, and grew strong with their love and care. As the winter grew colder, the king fell with an illness from the frigid weather. His grandson and the growing kits warmed his heart during this difficult time, but he was unable to overcome the ailment. The king's body vanished when his last breath came to pass.

The kingdom mourned, but his son's coronation soon followed. The grandson continued to mourn, and when the snow began to melt and the time for the kits to return to the wild came, the prince was unable to let them leave as he feared the same fate that had befallen their mother would await them. His parents, though proud of their son's empathy, bade him to not spoil the creatures, wishing for them to return to nature. With his son unwilling to yield, the new king wished a favor from an old acquaintance from his father, a grand, elderly wizard. In the dark of night, the wizard and grown kits disappeared from the kingdom. The prince was distraught, but came to accept that the squirrels had returned to the wild.

The wizard wasn't seen again for hundreds of years, and the memory of the young squirrels he helped raise faded from the prince with time. As an adult, he told his own children the legends that had befallen the land, from the brilliant victories of his grandfather to the superstition that if a child misbehaved and wandered too far into the land's forests, they would be lured to the cottage of a cruel, purple-haired witch by a pair of redheaded twins she was rumored to have kidnapped and tutored in the ways of dark magic. The superstition was a frightening story as he told it, knowing of all the disappearances that had befallen several children in the years prior, though he wasn't sure if he believed the tale himself. As time passed, fewer and fewer children vanished from the kingdom, and the superstition became just another frightening tale to trick children into behaving. Many people claimed to have still sighted the purple witch, however the twins were heavily believed to have resulted from a storyteller's enthusiasm.

The Twins 

((This is is the twins’ story verbatim. Realizing the fanciful “tale” above came from wanting to relate to Twisted Wonderland’s way of telling the universe’s history, I decided being straightforward about their backstory would clear up a lot of confusion about them going forward.))

Thomas and Katherine were born as squirrels in medieval England. When their mother was killed by a hawk (their father suffering a similar fate before), they were saved as kits by an elderly King Arthur and his grandson nurturing them through the winter. Arthur fell to illness from the harsh weather in his old age and passed away. When his son took the crown, the grandson did not want to release the twins back into the wild when spring came, heartbroken at the thought of them dying like their mother or his grandfather. Worried about his son's attachment to the squirrels, the new king asked Merlin to release them into safety and watch over them to make sure they could adapt to living in nature again. Merlin agreed, but the twins were easily attached to humans by this point and their comfort with him made it difficult for him to usher them back into the woods.

The twins were found by Madam Mim, who'd seen Merlin "raising" them. In an act against her old rival, she captured the twins and turned them into humans, teaching them black magic and using them to lure other victims to her cottage when they were old enough. By the time they were preteens, Merlin discovered what had happened and tried to dual Mim for their freedom. Knowing the witch's tricks, Merlin tried to transport the twins to a different period in time to hide them from Mim. The witch knew what he was attempting as he was doing it and cast a similar spell to try and hide them from Merlin. Both spells hit the twins at the same time and they were sent to where neither spell-casters could figure out.

The twins surfaced at the threshold of Night Raven College in the dead of night. Scared and with no guardian or guidance, they used their magic to revert back to being squirrels, staying at the school to figure out where they were and how to adapt. In their small, unassuming forms, they were able to hide out in lectures and listen in on conversations and, whenever night came again, they'd turn back into humans to test the skills they had seen. Their presence was not entirely unnoticed, but many assumed the noises made and messes left were the result of ghosts or rowdier students. During this time, they also learned of Diamond Crown Academy. When they came of age, they were selected by their respective schools’ magics to attend, though they lied about their origins when asked. Crowley and Citrouille were highly aware of this rouse, but also very much aware of the twins' strange circumstances of suddenly appearing on the college's campus out of nowhere. They decided letting the twins have a place of residence and get an education was the best course of action for them, especially since they were recruited by the schools and did have an aptitude for magic.

HOBBIES

Being part of the Ignihyde dorm at Night Raven College, Thomas is proficient with computer work. His special skill involves coding, able to read and make code for something as recreational as a video game or as serious as hacking into a security system. Despite the technical emphasis of his dorm, he still enjoys more active hobbies such as playing sports or hunting. His favorite hobby to relax with is playing the flute.

In semi-part of her magic training at Diamond Crown Academy, Katherine enjoys making perfumes and other beauty (mostly bath) products in her dorm at Chateau Beastiale, some of which include magic additives. Like her brother, she enjoys more active hobbies as well, particularly finding enjoyment in ballet and gymnastics. While she also enjoys baking, her favorite way to unwind is to simply shop and get elaborate manicures and spa treatments.

PERSONALITIES

While the twins don't remember their time as infant kits, the twins have very strong memories of the time spent with King Arthur and his grandson (they believe this was due to some sort of residual magic presence Arthur had gained over the years influencing them). They remember his kindness and unyielding sense of responsibility towards his family and his kingdom. When Mim turned them into humans, she treated the now-children to a very manic upbringing. While she taught them how to read, write, and do magic, she was also very scornful and quick with harsh punishments over small transgressions. Due to her unpredictable behavior, the twins were greatly afraid of her and followed her every order, no matter how ridiculous. The black magic she taught them also leeched into their minds, making them numb to their actions of luring other children to her cottage. They grew to trust only each other, frightful of Mim and unsure of how to escape her clutches. When the duel between her and Merlin resulted in them being banished to Night Raven College, their came a sense of relief for their freedom despite being worried about how they'd adapt to their new home.

The twins are frequently at odds with their own instincts. They remember their time with King Arthur fondly and want to honor his kindness, but Mim's treatment made them paranoid and resentful. They're generally soft-spoken, but there's a self-protecting air about them that makes them intimidating at first glance. However, they can be very friendly and approachable when they do bother to speak up. They're not entirely used to socializing, or at least not doing so frequently due to the long time Mim spent isolating them and them then having to hide as squirrels as they learned the modern world, but most people chalk this up to shyness. Their time with Mim lead them to learn how to be incredibly manipulative whenever they wished in order to obtain what they wanted. While they try not to behave this way to mislead kind people, they're also very self-preserving and, sometimes, feeling they "deserve" what they're aiming to get after the suffering they've endured. They are very kind and caring as they try to emulate Arthur's treatment of them, but they're also very cunning and distrustful as Mim taught them to be.

They've only really trusted each other throughout most of their lives. As such, they're going prioritize each other over all else. They grew to be able to cope with being separated physically, as they had to become accustom to it once they enrolled in different schools, but the thought of truly losing each other fills them with a sense of dread and anxiety, sometimes just the idea of it driving them to nightmares. This is one of the reasons why they're not focused on finding future spouses, as they're not ready to spend their lives with "strangers" (as squirrels mate for life). However, they are perfectly okay with flirting, dating, or light-hearted, non-committal romance.

ROMANCE PREFERENCES

The twins don't take dating very seriously. They're very open to flirting and having spirited liaisons with their peers, but when the subject of being in a committed relationship comes up, the two are quick to turn tail and run. It's not that they don't want a life partner some day, but it's only been in the past few years that they've had some sort of semblance of peace and they're not ready to fully trust others with their hearts yet.

Thomas' taste in romantic partners is very open and varied, but he prefers partners that he feel he can protect. Though not remembering his mother, he vaguely remembers hearing about her demise. It's because of this that he's terrified of not being able to be strong enough to protect his love ones, and he's insecure at the thought of not being the "strong" one in the relationship, either physically or mentally. With time, he would be able to adapt to having someone stronger and/or more mature than he is, who could help him cope with the anxiety he has about being unable to protect his family and friends. However, it would be a very long, tiring road to convincing him, and ultimately he'd need a partner with a great deal of patience. Thomas is bisexual.

Katherine has similar fears about being unable to protect her loved ones, but at her core she is afraid of being hurt (or even killed) and leaving others behind. She desires someone who can take care of her and protect her in order to put her fears to rest. However, she's a very caring person to the point where she might even prefer someone that she can protect herself, though it's very hard for her to admit this to herself. Like Thomas, she needs someone with a lot of patience as she comes to terms with how a romantic relationship is built on trust and understanding of one another's emotional needs and that it's not about whether who's "in charge" of what. Katherine is heterosexual, but bi-curious.

[artificialqueens]

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more (branjie) - holtzmanns

read on ao3 | tumblr

“I did mean it, you know.” Brooke looks at her with such an intensity in her eyes, such conviction that Vanessa doesn’t even feel her ADD ass getting distracted by anything at all this time.

“Mean what?” Vanessa’s gonna play dumb. Gonna make Brooke say it again, ‘cause she’s never gonna tire of hearing it.

“That I love you.”

AN: In which Holtzmanns hears ‘Cruel Summer’ by Taylor Swift and has to write something because she has no self control whatsoever. Whoops? Poppedthep and Writ are absolute stars and the BEST for editing this and making it better.

“I did mean it, you know.” Brooke looks at her with such an intensity in her eyes, such conviction that Vanessa doesn’t even feel her ADD ass getting distracted by anything at all this time.

“Mean what?” Vanessa’s gonna play dumb. Gonna make Brooke say it again, ‘cause she’s never gonna tire of hearing it.

“That I love you.”

Even though it fucking hurts every time.

“Good. You better.” She deflects, shoves Brooke’s side to make her laugh, ‘cause what else is she supposed to do?

It’s not like Brooke’s words actually mean anything. Not in the way Vanessa wants them to, needs them to.

They’re empty. Empty promises, a bandage wrapped around an amicable breakup that sure as hell ain’t been easy to get over.

Because no matter how much Brooke says them, no matter the way she had to snap her fingers in front of Vanessa’s face earlier to get her to focus, to pay attention so that she could say ‘I love you’,  Vanessa knows they don’t matter.

‘Cause Vanessa knows that Brooke doesn’t love her enough.

Brooke still goes after every hoe, every hot piece of trade that she wants to take back to her hotel room, going home with them. She knows she’s the shit. She doesn’t care that Vanessa sees, ‘cause why would it matter to her now?

They’re not together.

Brooke doesn’t love her like that. Enough to stop herself from sleeping around, enough to commit.

Vanessa’s fine with it, she is. Mostly ‘cause she has to be. How else is she gonna survive touring with her ex?

It beats the fighting, the nasty words. The cruel barbs she regrets the second they leave her mouth when she sees the way that Brooke’s eyes falter. Brooke can get away with causing Vanessa pain, fucking around, not giving a shit. But Vanessa’s unable to come for Brooke in any way that would leave a permanent mark on her pale skin.

It’s not Brooke’s fault. She doesn’t say anything. It’s Vanessa’s own inner voice, tutting in her head, Chile…don’t do that. Don’t stay stooping low.

Now that she thinks about it, her inner voice sounds a lot like A’keria.

They share an Uber back to the Gladstone Hotel with Jason and Steve ‘cause it’s cost efficient, not that either of them have to worry about money anymore. They’re still in drag and Vanessa’s feet are killing her, pinching in her heeled boots but at least she looks fucking good in them. Brooke still towers over her and Vanessa has to speed up her pace to keep up as they walk through the lobby.

Jason and Steve get off at their respective floors. They leave Vanessa in the elevator with Brooke, ‘cause she’s on the seventh floor and Brooke’s pressed the 6 button for herself. Vanessa doesn’t have to look up to know that Brooke’s eyes are on her, trailing up her dress and lingering on the highlight on her shoulders and the hand that she runs through her hair. Her gaze feels like it lights a flame across her body, burning and burning. It never burns bright enough to bring Vanessa down for good, make her fully fall apart. She always manages to survive it, albeit a little worse for wear.

The elevator dings when it reaches the sixth floor, and Brooke takes a step as the doors open. She doesn’t leave fully, though, one foot still in the elevator. She turns around, gives Vanessa those eyes. The ones that Vanessa can never fucking say no to ‘cause something about Brooke makes her weak.

“You coming?”

Vanessa rolls her eyes, huffs, as if she’s not clamoring to follow her. “Fine, bitch. You better have extra makeup wipes.”

Vanessa sits cross legged on Brooke’s bathroom counter in her underwear, stripping her face of the makeup and glitter that acts like an extra set of armour, though one not thick enough to protect her from what she so desperately needs it to. She’s still here, de-dragging with Brooke whom she’s as hung up over they way she is over Brock.

Rinsing off his face and washing off the remnants of the Branjie gig isn’t cleansing enough for Jose to bring him a sense of peace or closure. How can it, when Brock is shaking out the mess of curls on top of his head and looking at Jose like he’s a piece of meat or something?

Jose really ought to become a vegetarian. It would save him from being hung up over someone that don’t want him back. At least, not like that.

Brock puts his hands on either side of the counter where Jose is sitting, effectively boxing him in while he’s facing the mirror. It fills Jose’s nose with a mix of Brock’s shampoo from the morning, aftershave, and a spritz or two of perfume that he sprays on when he’s Brooke. A concoction that never fails to twist Jose’s heart in excitement and longing alike.

How is it possible to long for someone who’s standing right in front of you? Jose doesn’t know. What he does know is that it’s not good for him, aging him too fast and soon he’s gonna look older than his mother, though it ain’t that much of a challenge ‘cause no one believes she’s his mom, anyway. Brock feels like sand that’s slipping through his fingers, an emptying hourglass that’ll never fill itself up again. Brock and him are gonna separate as they always do and Jose’s gonna be left empty and turned upside down on his head with nothing to fill his heart back up.

He’s tried. Tried to fit other guys into the hole that Brock’s left in his chest, but they never fit, never feel right. Brock’s ruined all other trade for him, which in Jose’s rulebook should be considered a capital offense. It doesn’t matter how much they look like Ryan Gosling or how sweet they treat him, taking care of him the way he deserves but doesn’t want from people who ain’t Brock.

Brock buries his face into Jose’s neck, and Jose can feel the scrunch of his eyes shut against his skin. Brock does this sometimes, holding him extra tight or closer than usual and Jose doesn’t want to complain, ‘cause really, he wishes he’d be important enough to Brock for him to never let go.

Jose lets Brock grab his shoulders, turn him around so his back is to the mirror and his legs dangle off the counter. He melts into the kiss that Brock presses to his lips ‘cause Brock always makes him feel so warm from the inside out. He lets Brock push him onto the bed, eagerly pulls Brock closer. If he’s only gonna get Brock occasionally, when they’re in the same cities and maybe a little bit tipsy and their inhibitions and common senses are down for the count, he may as well enjoy it, right?

It’s gonna hurt later. When he has to leave Brock’s hotel suite in the morning for his own and go back to pretending that he’s fine, that their arrangement is fine and that he’s not a second away from breaking down over it again, like he always tends to do when he’s had one too many tequila shots and listened to too many sad songs and the only word that his brain can think is Brock Brock Brock.

But that ain’t now. Right now Jose has Brock on top of him, pressing kisses everywhere like he’s the most precious thing in the world, and it’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter that Brock won’t keep believing it after they both come.

It’s not ‘til it’s four a.m. and neither of them are sleeping that Jose says something. He’s resting his head on top of Brock’s chest, and can feel Brock trace patterns along his shoulder blades, the base of his spine, the curve of his ribs.

“We could go back to this. All the time. It wouldn’t be hard to do.”

Brock’s fingers stop moving. Jose can feel the way that Brock stiffens underneath him, the way that his heartbeat quickens.

“We can’t.”

It’s a conversation that they’ve had before. Too many times before.

“We could. Me and you. Not for the fans or for anyone else or nothing. Just us. I know you miss it, Toes.” As if the nickname is going to make Brock bend. It nearly does, ‘cause Jose catches Brock’s fingers twitching.

“You know what will happen if we do.” Brock’s voice is tired and worn and Jose almost hates that he’s the one who’s caused it. Almost. ‘Cause Brock’s gone and fucked him up, too.

The two of them cancel each other out. Yin and yang, molten and ice.

“What? What’s gonna happen?” Jose makes Brock say it every time. He’s not gonna stop asking, as if Brock’s logic will suddenly not be as airtight anymore.

Jose wants them to work so badly. He wants it, his heart wants it, hell, his entire body wants it and never wants to let Brock go whenever they’re like this, all intertwined as if they’re just two regular people that are together.

And yet, they always have to drift apart. Brock takes a piece of him each time he goes, and Jose knows he does ‘cause what else could explain the hole in his chest that seems to grow every time that he walks away?

“We’re always flying to different places, we’re never in the same time zones anymore. Our schedules are ridiculous right now. Adding that extra pressure would make things worse, you know that.” Brock’s voice is quiet, and Jose almost doesn’t hear it over the hum of the ceiling fan, the sounds of driving cars outside of the hotel window.

“We’d make it work, if we wanted.” Jose wants to. He really, really, wants to. More than anything he’s wanted his whole life.

“We already tried.” Brock sounds defeated. “You know what happened with that.”

Jose getting jealous of every hoe that Brock talked to, hugged, interacted with. Brock pulling away from him, as far as he could to give himself some space, as if being around literally anyone else was a better option.

Jose had felt like he was chasing a ghost, whispers of Brock because he was never truly there, not in the way that Jose needed. Jose gets it. He’s a lot, he’s a handful. But he wants the best, goes after the best, because he deserves it.

Brock’s the best, in his eyes. So soft and sweet and shady and Jose fits in the crook of his arm like he belongs there, even though he knows that he can’t stay there forever.

Jose wishes he could, though. That getting back together wouldn’t immediately mean destruction for the both of them.

“Doesn’t mean you should go, though.” Brock wraps an arm around his waist, pulls him closer. Jose wants to lift his face up and scream at him for being so flippy floppy but he also wants to scream at himself, ‘cause of course he’s not going to leave, not when his heart never wants to leave Brock in the first place.

“Stay.” Brock’s voice is all soft in his ear and Jose’s resolve is already on the ground when Brock’s hands start to trail up his sides.

He’s too weak for it.

“Can’t go. I know you’d cry yourself to sleep if I did.” Jose grins up at Brock, trying not to think about the fact that Brock probably wouldn’t even care. Would he?

Jose hates it. As sweet as he’s being right now, he knows Brock’s gonna be ignoring him by next week. Not responding to his calls, his texts, unless he wants something ‘cause they always play by Brock’s rules and it’s giving Jose whiplash.

Brock’s all warm right now, and being in his arms is making Jose feel like he never frosted over in the first place. As if this were a year ago, and they were newly together and everything was fresh and exciting and new and not marred by scars that both of them carved with dull knives into their intertwined hearts. If he closes his eyes, they could be back there. All new and tentative and exciting.

But they’re not. They’ll never go back to that. Brock’s made it clear.

It’s fine. Jose’s fine with it.

He is.

Jose still has a piece of Brock, anyway, even though nights like these cause burns upon his skin in the aftermath. Like he’s never gonna heal from the effect that Brock has on him. Like it doesn’t even matter, ‘cause he doesn’t want to.

Brock’s always gonna tug on his belt loops, pull him into an empty rooms, hallways, each others’ hotel rooms. ‘Cause this is what they do now.

It’s better.

Jose has to accept it, go with it, even though it burns.

[aizawasbedtimestories]

spoopy request!! how about shouta getting hit by a quirk that turns people into monsters for like 3-5 days and he's,,, a vampire :') since he got hit he's had a craving for blood but tries to hold it in till it wears off but he becomes so desperate he asks his s/o if he can have some of her blood when she walks in on him struggling and she's like sure

( I need to edit here because tumblr mobile is like, urgh, it just works against me. Imma edit it again when I am at home but yikes rn)

Scenario was later specified! Hope you enjoy, I kind of wrote it in the train again and I have a feeling that writing so little in the last 4 weeks really kinda made me a bad writer but I still wanted to write a bit >-

________________________________________________________________

With a loud groan, Shouta sunk deeper into the desk chair, closing his eyes as his black strands of hair fell into his face and tickled his nose.

In every aspect, his situation sucked. He had done what he could to avoid getting hit by this specific quirk but no one expected the villain to be quite so lively. With the last bit of strength he had made sure that Shouta got his payback for catching him and now, everything sucked for the hero.

While everyone was very understanding, the principal had ordered him to stay home for the time he needed to have the effects go down and even his agency had made him take some time off. In reality, they were just worried that the effect of being a vampire would make him into a dangerous being for students and civilians alike.

Sadly, they weren‘t totally wrong.

Of course, he had kept eating normally, needing the nutritions too. He also drank normally but somehow, there was a weird taste on his tongue that made him thirsty for something special.

No tea, no energy drink and no water had satisfied this specific thirst, even though by now he had drank about a gallon of each. But no matter what, it wouldn‘t pass and it seriously affected him. He felt very much at a loss of energy and even more moody than usual.

But up until now he hadn‘t figured out what was wrong with him. Nevertheless, his s/o had told him she‘d come over since he was practically grounded, so he wouldn‘t be so alone. That was something to look forward to and peering out from under his hair, he watched how the clock slowly moved towards the time of their meeting.

He must have fallen asleep on some point - no wonder since he couldn‘t find any sleep at night -, because the next thing he knew was the sound of keys jingling as someone opened the door. „Shouta?“ he heard his s/o‘s voice call out, and he only gave a grumble in return. „Geez, why are you sitting in the darkness like a bat and stiff like a dead body…“ she complained, flipping on the light switch.

The brightness hurt his eyes, which made him sit up immediately, hiding his sensitive sight from it with his body. „I took a nap,“ he replied.

Suddenly, he felt himself being hit by a very strong smell and instinctively he looked at his s/o, who was unpacking something from her bag while humming a pop-song. For a second he had a feeling as if she had just unpacked something to eat. Meat or fish, but he realized much faster that it wasn‘t anything to eat per se, but the smell being from his s/o directly.

„Do you… have a new perfume?“ he asked, it being the first thing that came to his mind. „Huh?“ she replied, thinking about his question for a few seconds before adding, „No, not really. Same as always.“

He didn‘t say much to it, so she just continued unpacking her bag, not giving him too much attention.

Certainly, she couldn‘t help but flinch when suddenly, he was right behind her, leaning against the table before her and effectively trapping her from behind. „You smell amazing today,“ he purred into her ear, running his nose along her hair and down to the nape of her neck. The burning in his throat had become much more intensive since before and he felt the urge to taste her skin.

His s/o felt herself blush as he kissed along her shoulder and neck, one after the other getting more intimate and initiating than before. She could feel herself sigh against his touch and wanted to lean back into him, when she felt a sharp sensation against her neck.

„Shouta, what are you doing?“ she asked, her body tensing noticeable. He himself immediately got a grip on himself, pushing his body away from her. With his hand covering his mouth he took some deep breaths, trying to clear his mind, as a mad blush covered his whole face.

„[Name], I am so sorry, I don‘t know what just happened,“ he tried to explain, staring at her neck in horror as he could observe the small teeth marks. She lifted one of her hands, brushing over said marks, and feeling it with her fingers. „Did you just want to bite me?“ she asked again, a bit of disbelieve in her voice as she stared back at him. He gulped hard at her question.

For a second he could visibly imagine how it would feel to bite into her flesh, suck on the wound and feed on her blood. Even if he didn‘t want to believe it, he couldn‘t deny the vampire urges that were telling him their needs. „Shouta, wha-“ she cut herself off, approaching him and tearing down his hands, revealing the two fangs his lips had hidden so long.

„Oh. My. God,“ his s/o proclaimed, taking a step away from him.

„You wanted to bite me.“

„[Name], maybe you should leave for today. I don‘t know what‘s going on either, I-“ this times it was he who was interrupted as she took a step closer again and pressed her finger against his lips. „Did the quirk turn you into a vampire?“ she asked and Shouta bit his own lip in response, the fangs hurting himself quite a bit.

„It did!“ she whispered excitedly. There was a sudden spark in her eyes and she cupped his face into her hands in amazement. „Does that mean you need to drink blood?“ his s/o started to question him. She kept on tracing his lips with her thumb, effectively making it hard to speak as well as keeping his cool while the smell of her blood intensified.

„I-I guess…“ he managed to stutter, the burning in his throat raising into his head as his whole body demanded more of what he had started before. With her basically fishing him, she was the only thing on his mind and it was hard to resist the urge to lay her down onto the table and bite into the delicate skin of hers.

„You know you could ask~“ his s/o suggested, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she could she the twitch in his face as he considered what she had just said. Certainly, it still felt wrong to him to ask for something so absurd, but on the other hand, with everything his lover tempted him with, it got harder to resist by the second.

„I really shouldn‘t. I don‘t know if I can stop…“ he whispered, his body leaning in to her, arms wrapping around his s/o‘s waste. His tired eyes were gleaming michiviously and focusing onto her neck while his mind still foughts in it‘s own haziness. „You can‘t help it, Shouta,“ his s/o reassured, tangling her own arms around his neck and giving him more access to her body.

„Just this one time,“ she murmured, breathing in audible at the touch of his lips against the thin skin, goosebumps spreading along her arms and back.

„Just this one time…“ he repeated before placing a last, sane kiss onto her neck.

[bucksomecontent-blog]

That’s How I Wanna Go 2/?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Summary: In a world of soulmates and marks on skin, every love story is epic and magical and just perfect. Supposedly. Your story ends up being more complicated than you were promised… So you decide to take things into your own hands. Cue car chases in Europe, run-ins with Shady Government Agencies™, oodles of superheroes who are honestly more trouble than they’re worth, a healthy dose of intrigue, an unhealthy dose of alcohol, and maybe some (okay, really a lot of) bad decisions. All with your trusty pack of sharpies and the mysterious man you write to on your skin.

Series Warnings: Some violence, strong language, alcohol, romance, but nothing too explicit. 

Chapter warnings: Bad writing! I haven’t edited this and am posting at 3am but I’m an impatient bean and wanna post it now. Lemme know of any mistakes

Word Count: 1202 (shorter chapters=more frequent updates ;-) )

Notes: Okay so there’s not much direct Bucky yet I admit, but all this reader stuff is setting the groundwork :)

One | Two | Three | Four(coming soon)

His notebook collection hadn’t been added to in a few years now, but it wasn’t the sudden return of a memory that had spurred him to order the soft Moleskine. It was a new project entirely. These books had helped him find himself again, and he hoped that they could now help him find you. Ever so carefully, he wrote down what he knew.

“Afternoon, babycakes!” Reema chirped from behind the till as you got into work. “Can’t thank you enough for putting me on the 7am shift, you know I was worried about being TOO awake and well rested today, but waking up at the arse crack of the morning really helped me out!”

You huffed out a laugh. “Shouldn’t you be, oh I don’t know, doing your job instead of whinging at me?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, I’ll just see to all these customers…” she said, gesturing to the deserted shop floor before letting out a terribly fake shocked gasp that would put a 40s actress to shame. “Oh, wait!”

You really loved Reema. She was a breath of fresh air in this place, and you had been sad at the prospect of not working with her anymore. ‘At least that’s not an issue anymore,’ you thought wryly.

“Yeah yeah, at least pretend to be earning your pay check, babe. Fiddle with the receipt machine or something.” You were impressed with yourself at how normally you were acting. Go you.

“Not my fault nobody comes into this place,” the younger girl retorted, but when she looked more closely at your too bright eyes and reddened nose, her expression softened. “Oh, Y/N/N…” Okay, maybe you weren’t delivering a stellar ‘I’m fine!’ performance after all. She came around to hug you tight, her warm, sweet perfume anchoring you to the moment instead of your spiralling thoughts. “What went wrong, lovely? There’s no way you weren’t perfect for that job!”

You open your mouth to wave it off, but couldn’t speak past the lump in your throat. ‘Damnit, Y/N, pull yourself together.’ Closing your eyes and breathing deeply, you waited for the swell of emotion to pass and the prickle behind your eyes to stop. “I… Uhm, I’ll explain when we get home. It’s just a bit… uh, just not right now.” Your voice wobbled traitorously, but didn’t break.

Your friend eyed you worriedly, but thankfully left it alone after extracting a promise to talk that evening. She started amicably chatting about a rude customer from earlier getting his comeuppance, allowing you some mental space while distracting you from your morning. Thank God for that girl, she knew exactly what you needed. After a few laugh out loud stories about her boyfriend’s shenanigans, you felt almost normal again. After letting her off half an hour early, you busied yourself around the store for the rest of your shift, determined not to think about anything but sales and stock.

The tube journey home that evening had you gnawing on your lip and cracking your knuckles repeatedly. Packed like a sardine on the central line, you didn’t have enough space to roll up your sleeve and examine the message you had felt appear on your right arm. Just as you were resisting the urge to break your finger when one joint wouldn’t pop satisfactorily, a flood of people pushed off the train at once, and you suddenly had enough space to breathe. And to check your arm.

How did it go?

The lady standing across from you shuffled back at your foul expression. Grabbing a pen from your pocket, you scribbled back on the same arm, not bothering to go through the huzzah of rolling up your other sleeve to write with your dominant hand.

What the hell’s the matter with you? My last message was a pretty clear “fuck off”

There was a last message?

Your brow crinkled, but before you could reply another line appeared.

Oh God, I didn’t even think. If you send something on your left arm I can’t get it. There was a brief pause. I lost mine a while back.

As the train emptied further, you managed to snag a seat while taking in this development. You wanted to stay angry at them but you’d look like an arsehole right now. Fuck. You slowly replied with a useless Oh.

There was no response: the ball was still in your court. Scrubbing your hand over your face, you were completely at a loss at how to proceed- did they get any of your messages? You were mostly right handed, had you always written to them on your left arm where they didn’t see it? Did they think you weren’t interested? No, that’s not it. You had memories of writing poems down your thighs, and you’d definitely put in some practice somewhere down the line of writing with your left hand. So what changed? Why didn’t they reply then? How did they lose their arm? Also, how did they even know about the interview in the first place? 

Nervous habit found you taking out your phone and flicking through your notifications to distract part of your brain. Reema had snapchatted you when you finished work, and you thanked TFL for the wifi at tube stations giving you something to think about that wasn’t 50 questions without answers.

<(Image: Selfie of Reema smiling cheesily, her face filling the frame) ‘Hey bubacious lady hope work was ok <3’

>(Image: Grotty floor of tube train) ‘Thank you girlie, let’s just say I’ll be needing some seriously greasy takeaway to get me over my day. Can’t wait to vent lmao prepare yourself’

<(Image: A-okay finger sign held over Reema’s grinning face. In the background a man is walking into the room) ‘I’m ready!’

>(Image: Selfie showing up your nose and wide eyes. The unimpressed expression of man sitting next to you is visible.) ‘Omg I didn’t know Peter was coming over sorry aha we can talk another time if you’re busy’

<(Image: Selfie of Reema’s confused expression) ‘Wdym? He’s not coming tonight it’s just me lol’

You frowned and wracked your brains. You doubted it had been a trick of the light. Your heartbeat began to quicken slightly, but you always over reacted to things like this and tried to calm it down. You switched to text mode and hammered out a reply for speed’s sake.

> ‘dude I saw someone in your pic don’t screw about you know how I worry aha if he is over it’s fine dw’

Message left unopened.

>hey are you ok??? Answer me please

Still nothing.

>! Failed to send ! shit what’s happened??

>! Failed to send ! REEM READ YOUR BLOODY MESSAGES

The roaring of the underground was just white noise as you cursed and waited for the train to screech to a halt at the next station. You exited snapchat and went directly to phone her, lurching up from your seat to get off as you searched for good signal. Racing up the escalator, you whispered “fuck” under your breath until signal arrived as you came out onto the surface of wherever the hell you’d gotten off at. The dialling noise rang in your ear, blocking out the ringing of bikes and squeals of red buses.

“The number you have dialled is currently unavailable. Please try again later.”

One | Two | Three | Four(coming soon)

[dw817-dailymotion]

dw817′s Dailymotion

Who am I ? I'm dw817 and I write imaginative books and stories and upload rare videos besides. For a summary and listing of all my current works, read on. To see what videos I have available for you, skip below:

FUTURE BARRIER My primary work. What happens when a teenage boy and girl come across a piece of technology from one-million years in the future ? A grand adventure: Future Technology, Unrequired Love, and Absolute Vengeance. A clear one for both teen and adult literature. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! Future Barrier 1st Book, 74-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 2nd Book, 71-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 3rd Book, 99-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 4th Book, underway, new chapter every Monday Future Barrier Character Synopsis, 8-chapters (complete !)

THE NANCY PRINCIPLE My secondary work. This is an interesting bit of writing. The first book is non-fiction so it recounts what actually happens when I was hired to work for the government in a room full only of WOMEN. Each teenage girl trying to outstink the others in their perfumes and outdo the others in their business outfits. And then I show up, a teenage boy really, and how they treated me there and WHO they hired to keep me in my place. A clear one for both teen and adult non-fiction literature. Later book is fictional as I grew rather fond of my female boss. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! The Nancy Principle 1st Book, 33-chapters (complete !) The Nancy Principle 2nd Book, 35-chapters (complete !)

STAR WARS - THE FORCE WITHIN Cleary a fan-fiction story of quite a few chapters. I address the issue of what happens between Episode IV (A New Hope) and Episode V (The Empire Strikes Back). I mean we're still on Yavin in the first Star Wars movie, then suddenly we are on the ice planet of Hoth with no interim video to explain - what happened ? This then is my interpretation of how our intrepid adventurers of Luke, Leia, and Han are forced to leave Yavin to Hoth - with quite a bit of deviltry from Darth Vader himself even though the Death Star has been destroyed. A clear one for teen literature. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! Star Wars - The Force Within, 28-chapters (complete !)

SOME ADDITIONAL MULTI-CHAPTERED WORKS Sometimes you just can't get enough of a good thing and have to write it out and share it with others in additional chapters and pages. Here are some other books I have written that do indeed contain multiple chapters for their subject matter. Read all chapters from all books ONLINE now ! Wit And Wisdom, Campfire Tales, Points To Ponder, Double Trouble, Saturday Matinee, The Concession Stand, The Theologian's Cafe, Zachary Smith - Ruler Of The Universe, The Dream Machine, Dream Diary, Gosh-A-Lotta Stamps, End Days, BLOG, Writer's Cafe Wizardry. More later !

WANT MORE ? Try out these other short-stories, writings, and articles I've written - all available to read ONLINE now ! I N D E X, PROSE AND COMMS OF RPGS, 50-Look And Look Again, Effective Forums [1] [2], You Think Your Luck Is Bad, Ninety Percent Off, When The Sky Caught Fire, Lost In Translation, Sea Monkey (Age restricted), My First Uploaded Google Play Application, Look On The Bright Side, Solar Eclipse (08-21-17), 45000 Hits, A Morse Of A Different Color, Reaching A Human Being At 2-1-1, What Do You Dream, Fresh Peaches For Donald Trump, A Halloween To Remember (Age restricted), Selling My First Videogame, Halloween 2017, Swim Ring Exercises, Why I Program, How To Fish (A Short Story About Helping Others), Building SRTs From DVDs, Personality Test, I Am INJT, Happy 4th Of July (2015), Happy New Year 2015, Merry Christmas 2014, Happy Birthday Advice, Leonard Nimoy Dies At 83, Dating Advice, Alien Rescue, My Happiest Memory, Kids Gallery Halloween, Teen Gallery Halloween, The Misunderstood Dragon, Hear Is To Your Health, The Blue Rose, The Paradox Of Turning Clocks, Tribute To Alice In Wonderland (Age restricted), The Price Of War, Why Is A Raven Like A Writing Desk, What Is A RPG, Anime - A Kaleidoscope Crash Course (Age restricted), Assholes R Us (Age restricted), Legends, The Fairy Lipstick, Outworld, The Power Of Doubt, Drowning In Ads, Access Denied, Online Blocking, Decisions Decisions, My Guardian, The Riddle Of Religion, I Hate Snow, The Prophet Of Profit, Service With A Smile, Why I ♥ Writer's Cafe, Little Escape Artist, Me From A To Z, Where Were You God. More later !

You are Earth visitor #

This super-rare and very family-friendly TV series features Juliet Mills as the Nanny who takes care of three children. And one has to wonder if all of the amazing things she is capable of. Is it truly magic as most people believe ? Or is it just love ?

Prudence has a nightmare with a monster named Wiblet, and Nanny helps her overcome her fears.

Butch is negatively influenced by a "hip" kid when the Professor misses another one of his activities.

A new girlfriend of the Professor thinks that Butch and Prudence are not grounded in reality and should be involved in her children's therapy group. Butch tests whether there is a tooth "elf" by not telling his father when he loses a tooth.

Hal gets a telescope for his birthday but Butch is the one who discovers a new comet.

Nanny suggests a family picnic on a lovely Spring day. The family members all have other ideas until their plans are mysteriously thwarted.

The Professor gives Nanny driving lessons as the pair prepare for a second household car.

Nanny and the children's rescue of some ducklings leads to trouble for Nanny.

Waldo finds a dinosaur bone and buries it in the yard. Nanny and the children's hunt for a rose bush eating gopher uncovers Waldo's treasure and results in a dig for more !

Nanny and the children stage a protest to stop the city from cutting down a favorite tree for a road expansion project.

Professor Everett receives a fabulous job offer from Astrodynamics, but it means moving to Astroville. The children don't want to leave their home, but put a brave face on for their father's sake.

The Professor is contacted out of the blue by an old college girlfriend and isn't sure he's ready to see her again.

Hal feels too much pressure to complete various projects and school work, with a big science competition being foremost, it's making him irritable and miserable. Nanny offers a good luck piece, that acts like a magic amulet that restores his confidence so much he no longer worries at all.

[ Willy McBean And His Magic Machine ]

Little Willy McBean joins up with a Mexican monkey named Pablo to travel back in time and stop the evil Prof. von Rotten from changing history.

[ Nosferatu ]

Vampire Count Orlok expresses interest in a new residence and real estate agent's wife. Enjoy this remastered edition of one of the oldest and creepiest silent horror films of all time. Nosferatu.

These aren't your seemingly average cute little girls. No, they each have a unique way of handling every day life's little problems by TRANSFORMING into new and amazing vehicles ! Please enjoy all 4-episodes of this rare and hard-to-find mini-series.

Mickey Mouse meets Mickey Mouse in this charming and animated classic tale of mistaken identity. It's your riches to rags story.

This spunky little gal from Nevada has vivid daydreams that teach her so very much about the world around her. In this episode, she imagines herself to be a dancing princess.

Everyone's favorite little daydreaming girl runs into an interesting situation where - something stinks. And we don't mean figuratively.

A marvelously done stop-motion animation featuring truly likeable characters with all their quirks and kinks. A lonely deaf taxidermist falls in love with a withdrawn and blind woman.

Done in the style of Scooby-Doo, this Hanna Barbera series features an animated Charlie Chan the amazing detective and his family of all ages which consist to assist.

Today's Chan episode is a mystery about baseball and a famous player for the game who has been kidnapped.

If you're looking for Hentai and Panchira, look no further. This very silly series has plenty of kinky panty-shots, ludicrous fan-service, and action and adventure besides. This pilot episode is entitled, "Beautiful Agent."

Agent Aika continues this kinky fan-service series with the episode, "Naked Mission."

Very funny and very British Angry Kid gets into all kinds of adventures in this live-action mini-movie which features some very clever stop-motion animation and over-the-top incidents between him and his devilishly intelligent little sister.

It's the classic cartoon of cat versus mouse except in this case it is the anteater versus the ant with some hilarious situations between the two.

Who will win ? The Tortoise or the Hare ? Find out in this amusing upgrade to the classic original tale.

Join now with four elite Galaxy Rangers with unique abilities defend law & order among the space colonies and protect humanity from the evil Crown Empire.

These are the amazing Herculoids. This animated series features Zok, a flying space dragon. Igoo, a rock ape. Tundro, a ten-legged four-horned rhinoceros. Gloop and Gleep, two protoplasmic creatures able to change shape. And finally the Herculoids family themselves, Zandor, the leader, Tara, his wife, and Dorno, their son.

Josie and her cartoon friends go on adventures that is out of this world. In this opening episode we find them landing on the planetoid Zelc and encounter a creature named Bleep. At the same time, Josie is kidnapped by an alien named Karnak, a deposed ruler who is intent on reconquering the populace of Zelc.

The Pussycats land on the planet Arcobia, where they try to help expose the corrupt Prime Minister Rulo as the true thief of a device that is very important to the planet.

A classic stop-motion animation film about your Forest Ranger's and Fire Fighter's favorite friend. It's Smokey Bear !

Three choice episodes linked together make-up this rare and interesting animated police series that takes place in futuristic Detroit where crime is dealt with by mechanical justice. It's ROBOCOP !

[ Daydreamer The Movie ]

An anthology of a combination of live-action and stop-motion animation fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen: "The Little Mermaid," "The Emperor's New Clothes," "Thumbelina," and "The Garden of Paradise."

This tells the classic tale of the hard working ants and the not so hard working grasshopper. The question is, who is ready to survive when old man Winter comes around ?

One of the first videos I've posted on Daily Motion so many years ago. I'm keeping it though because I hate to get rid of anything.

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

I'm Sorry - an Original Story

Okay, so this is the original story that is to be published in the anthology at my university on Thursday – I’m doing a podcast tomorrow at uni to promote it, and I’ll be reading it at the launch on Thursday evening.

This work HAS been looked over and edited by the anthology people – or, rather, they gave me comments and I edited accordingly. This is the story as it shall appear in the anthology.

Other than that, all I can say is…enjoy!

The beer bottle is cold as I rest it against my leg, my hand securely wrapped around the neck of it; a drop of condensation runs down and splashes onto my shorts. The night air is cool and calm around me as I gaze out, out at the beach, out at the ocean, out into nothing; the only sound is that of waves crashing on the sand, washing up treasures for the dogs to find tomorrow morning on their walk.

The porch door opens and shuts behind me; it’s Sarah, and I watch from the corner of my eye as she sits on one of the other chairs on the deck. Her sunny-blonde hair is tied back in a messy bun, her skin brown from hours spent on the beach that overlooks our house; she is so beautiful, even now with bags under her eyes and her cheekbones sunken into her face. She clutches her own bottle of beer and takes a long swig of it after a moment. I watch her neck tilt back, skin that I know tastes of peaches and perfume, and for a second I try to forget about it all…I pretend that it’s just like every other night.

Except it’s not.

Sarah looks out at the beach like I had before she came out, into the vast nothingness of beach and sea. Her bottom lip quivers slightly, and I hurriedly go back to staring out at the beach too because I can’t think of anything to say, can’t think of the words to comfort her.

I wish I could do something to help her – I wish I could do something to ease her suffering. It doesn’t help that I had left that morning’s newspaper lying on the table in my rush to get to work, the one detailing the discovery of disfigured bodies in California – I would pick it up, throw it away, but all of the fight within me has gone. Neither of us say it, but we know the likelihood.

No. I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to think about him being-

No.

“He’s out there.”

My voice floats, as if it hadn’t come out of my mouth, as if there’s someone else on the deck with us. Sarah does not look at me.

“We’ll find him…I know we will…”

Her face is pale, drawn, tear-stained; her grip tightens on the bottle like it’s a lifeline. She blames herself, she says, but I know that she really blames me. I blame me.

“Sarah…”

My voice is slurred, this is my fourth bottle of beer tonight, and it probably won’t be the last. I just want to forget, to get away, but even drinking can’t numb the pain for long enough.

“Sarah.”

My voice is firmer, and I reach out to touch her shoulder; she jerks away from my touch, like I’ve burnt her, and I can’t help but recoil myself because she’s never done that before. Her face as she turns to me is angry, hurt, worried, and devastated – she is in pain.

“Jack.” She’s warning me. “Don’t. Don’t you even dare…”

In our five years (to the day) of marriage, she’s never spoken like that to me, never told me to stop talking about something, never told me to stop doing something, at least not seriously. We have our jokes, sure, but this is different. The guilt I suddenly feel for attempting to comfort her – and failing when she refuses it – is almost painful.

We’re silent for five, ten, fifteen minutes. She downs the rest of the bottle and then tosses it out onto the beach. She scolds people who litter normally, and I try to follow her example, but now I don’t say a word to her – I let her have one moment of being imperfect. I drink from my own bottle, wishing I knew the right things to say to her.

Finally, she turns to me; she pulls her knees to her chest, feet resting on the seat, and she seems to curl in on herself. She’s like a new-born kitten – a sharp cry from her usual spitfire personality; grief changes everyone for the worst, and in the hours since her son’s disappearance she’s changed into someone barely recognizable.

“I should have stayed with him,” she whispers; it’s to me, though she looks at her own legs as she speaks. “I told him…I told him not to go too far…I just assumed he would be safe, didn’t even think to go with him…”

I put my half-empty bottle on the floor and sigh heavily. “No. I should have…he wanted to help me fix the boats, but…but I said not today. I should have let him come with me.”

Not today, champ, I had told him early that afternoon, trying not to wince when his face fell; Why don’t you go and have a look around the beach? Who knows, you might find something interesting.

He had gone home, probably spoken to Sarah – probably asked her to go with him, to which she had said no – before heading out. He knew the beach like any kid knows their back-yard, he knew not to go out of sight of the house, to stay close to the more populated areas of the beach.

I can still remember the panic when I arrived home only to find Sarah pacing frantically; she had still been in her t-shirt and shorts, not dressed for the dinner reservations I had booked for us at a nearby restaurant to celebrate our anniversary. Her face had been white as a sheet as she just said it over and over again.

Josh is missing, Jack. I can’t find him. I’ve been up and down the beach, talked to anyone I could find, but no one’s seen him recently. Please, Jack. Please. We need to find him! Please!

Forgetting about the dinner plans, I had gone up and down the beach myself immediately, Sarah jogging to keep up, and I’d asked desperately; I asked families, dog walkers, life guards, anyone who was on the beach. I searched the sand dunes, shouting his name, getting cuts on my shins from the spiky blades of grass that grew about a mile down the beach. We searched for an hour before finally returning to the house and calling the police. They, too, had no idea where he could be; eight year-old boys don’t run away like that, not without any belongings or nourishment, not in this heat. They had assured us that they would search for Josh, of course, that he would be added to the list of missing children to find – but I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope.

We never made it to the restaurant.

“They’ll find him,” I tell her, although that’s unlikely. “He’s going to be okay.”

It’s unlikely because he’s not the first child in the area to disappear; he’s the thirteenth - the other twelve are either still missing or they’ve been found chopped up and unrecognizable. The cops have had no leads, no evidence. Nothing for months.

Josh’s disappearance is just the latest in a long-running pattern.

Sarah bites her lip and fiddles with the hem of her shirt; she’s bitten all of her nails down to the quicks. She hasn’t done that in years. “Yeah. Sure.”

It’s all my fault that she’s lost her son; if I had just told him to help me out with the stupid boat then Josh would have been dropped off at Sarah’s parents’ house, Sarah and I would have gone to our dinner, and we would have probably been going for another round in bed. My wife has lost her son because I was too selfish to let him help me fix some crappy boat engine, and I will never escape that.

We go to bed a few hours later, though it’s more out of habit than a need for sleep – neither of us will sleep, not for a long time, not knowing what we know.

As I lie there, unable to drift into a blissful unconsciousness, I stare at the ceiling; I stare at the fan spinning around and around, at the clear white paint, at the tiny dent that’s always been there. Sarah is awake beside me, but we don’t talk. Sometimes it’s better not to talk.

I think. I think of Josh. I think of his smiling, happy face. I think of his ruffled black hair, of the gap in his teeth, of how he laughed at animal cartoons. I think of him and try to hold it together.

I remember the day I met him; he’d been just over a year-and-a-half, and Sarah introduced me as ‘Jack’ – at that point, we didn’t know we were going to get married. I didn’t think much on it, not even when we got engaged four months later and he still called me ‘Jack’. It was fine by me – he had learnt to know me as ‘Jack’, so it would be less confusing to him if I remained as that. When Sarah and I got married, five years ago exactly to this day, he had been the page boy – he had been there for the whole ceremony, and we were just glad he was there with us, that we were somewhat of a family, albeit an unconventional one.

All of a sudden, I vividly remember taking him to school, running his lines for the school plays that I later had to go to, taking him to soccer practice. I was like a dad, but not a dad. It didn’t really become an issue – it was just the way it was. It was life; it wasn’t really something to dwell on, and I just counted my blessings while they were still there.

Roughly a year ago he had asked to call me ‘dad’. “I’m sorry, Jack,” He apologized profusely whilst Sarah turned to look at him in surprise. “It just slipped out.” I had told him it was fine – that if he wanted to call me that, then by all means he should, and if he wanted to keep calling me by my actual name then that was fine too.

He was well-aware I wasn’t his real father, well-aware that his actual father hadn’t been a very nice man and that his mother had left before anything bad could happen to him when he was a baby. His real father had been a drunk – we had gotten a call from a solicitor shortly after Josh’s fifth birthday saying that he’d died of some alcohol related disease. Sarah didn’t attend the funeral, instead just sending enough money to cover the cost of a coffin and burial plot. I didn’t blame her – I had first met her through mutual friends just a few weeks after she had left him, and I’d seen the bruises. She still had a scar from the surgery she’d had to fix internal bleeding caused by him throwing her down a flight of stairs.

I never did care to learn his name – it was always just him.

Sometimes I had been ‘Jack’ – but more and more often he had taken to calling me ‘dad’ instead. I remember now that Josh had called me ‘Dad’ before I sent him away.

Come on, dad, I promise I won’t get in the way!

I feel tears sting my eyes and wipe them away silently. Dads are meant to protect their children, and I haven’t done that. I do not deserve the title Josh gave me. I’ve let my step-son down, and I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life.

I’m sorry, Josh. I am so, so sorry.

[adapted-batteries]

Love is More Thicker Than Forget

Fandom: The Librarians

Rating: general audiences/sfw

Ships: low key Jazekiel

So for some reason my brain decided 3 am was the perfect time to write my first Librarians fic. Surprisingly, I didn’t have to edit much. Also, I started this story thinking that Stone and Flynn had left to get beers from the fountain of youth, but I realized that was from the previous episode. I decided to keep it anyway cuz he’s probably got a big stash in there.

This is set a little bit after the last scene in the annex on episode 3x06 “and the Curse of Cindy”

Posted on my Ao3 here.

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Jake and Flynn returned from the depths of the Annex with several cold beer bottles in hand. Jenkins, scowling with his face conveying the message “I would tell you not to use an artifact like that but you will ignore me anyway,” claimed needing to clean his lab after hastily concocting the antidote potion, and left through another door, leaving the librarians and guardian in the main room. Ezekiel wasn't feeling up to drinking just yet, not after what Stone had said to him anyway, so he wandered down the hallway towards Jenkins lab.

He was doing as he said: cleaning. The lab wasn't in a horrible state, but Ezekiel could tell he had been in a rush from the various jars and vials still laying on the counters. Jenkins himself was standing at the sink, scrubbing a beaker down with some shimmering soap, probably magic soap. He hadn't noticed Ezekiel enter.

“Hey Jenkins,” he started, making his presence known. Jenkins turned around to the voice, still scrubbing away at some glassware.

“Oh, hello Ezekiel. Is there something you need?” he asked, keeping an eye on Ezekiel moving more into his lab.

“Uh, yeah. So how does that love potion work?” Ezekiel responded, looking at all the stuff strewn about Jenkins’ workspace.

“Like I said before, it’s not a love potion. It creates obsession,” Jenkins scoffed. The comforting whooshing noises of his scrubbing stopped as he paused to think. “Though I suppose you could call ‘love’ a form of obsession.” He went back to scrubbing away.

“But how did it not work on me? It’s not like I’m in love with anyone to begin with,” Ezekiel clarified, picking up what looked to be an old-fashioned perfume bottle. It smelled pleasant, but different from Cindy’s potion. Out of instinct he pocketed the bottle.

“You are so self-absorbed that the potion couldn’t affect your perception of others,” Jenkins responded matter-of-factly.

“Is that really why it didn’t work?” His conversation with Stone had made him question that statement.

“Yes...and no. I do think your ego was part of it, but I can’t figure out what else. For instance, we all know Flynn loves the library, he would die for the library, but he was affected, which is why love doesn’t protect someone from it,” Jenkins said. He turned to look at Ezekiel again, with a hint of pity on his face. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m sure we have a book on potions that may shed light somewhere.”

“Oh no, heh, I don’t want to research,” Ezekiel stuttered, his brain turning over what Jenkins had said. “I was just...curious.”

“Well, don’t let anyone tease you about it. Being immune to a love potion is a good trait to have,” Jenkins added.

“Will do,” Ezekiel smiled.

“If you’d like, you could help me clean---actually nevermind, I don’t want you taking anything you think is ‘cool,’” Jenkins said.

“Nah, I’m not one for cleaning, especially if I can’t take things,” Ezekiel laughed. Jenkins just rolled his eyes and turned back to cleaning.

He left the lab, feeling the bottle in his jacket pocket. A prank on Stone felt like a good idea at the time, even if he had no clue what this bottle of stuff actually did, though he had a feeling it was related to the whole ordeal they just went through. Perhaps he could prove an obsession potion had nothing to do with love like Stone had claimed, or at least that his love was aimed at Cindy (surely all the times he had risked his life for the other, for his family, would've been obvious enough to show where his affections lie, but Stone could be a little thick). Striding back into the main room he saw Stone and Flynn still sitting at the main worktable, chatting about some obscure culture fact. The girls had gone off somewhere, probably bored out of their minds listening to the two dorks argue about 14th century art or something.

“I'll have that beer now, if you didn't already down it in my absence,” Ezekiel called, sliding up next to Stone like nothing was up.

“I was tempted, but I figured you'd get thirsty eventually,” Stone sighed, passing him the unopened bottle.

“Your love for me is oh so evident,” he chided, making sure to sound pretty sarcastic. Stone didn't seem to think anything of it as he turned back to Flynn.

“So like I was saying, The Decameron had always been written like it was fiction, and for years historians interpreted as such, but…” Jake droned on about some piece of literature, and Flynn listened like a dog waiting for the right time to steal the toy from its sibling, waiting to find something Stone didn't know so he could parade his knowledge around. Ezekiel had gotten used to zoning out when they did this, which while not happening often, got made up for by lasting for hours on end.

He felt the small bottle in his jacket pocket, maneuvering it so he could push the bulb and hold on onto it with one hand. He had a plan of course, to get Stone to smell it before Flynn did. Stone occasionally put his right hand on his thigh, smoothing out his jeans unnecessarily. If Ezekiel spritzed his hand, eventually stone would take a drink, bringing the potion-misted hand near his face. Feigning attentiveness to the conversation, he waited for several minutes until Stone set the plan in motion.

It took a couple minutes for the effect to kick in, but it was very obvious when it did. Stone stopped mid-sentence, turning his head to look at Ezekiel next to him. His art-concentration face had changed to what Ezekiel could only describe as “bedroom eyes.”

“Stone, are you alright?” Flynn asked, confused by his behavior.

“Never better,” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off Ezekiel. Then, of all things, Stone started reciting a poem.

“love is more thicker than forget/ more thinner than recall/ more seldom than a wave is wet/ more frequent than to fail/ it is most mad and moonly-”  Stone purred in his poem reciting voice. Ezekiel noticed Flynn fidgeting, a blush forming on his cheeks as he gawked at Stone.

Before he could recite anymore, footsteps rang from the hallway behind Ezekiel. “I know you took it! Give it back-Oh, you did not!” Jenkins shouted, storming back to his lab and returning with the bug sprayer still filled with the working antidote. He gave Stone a good dousing, then stuck his hand out to Ezekiel. “Hand it over, now.” Normally he'd play coy with Jenkins, but the contempt contorting the immortal’s face made him comply. Jenkins looked like he was going to berate him, but instead sighed heavily and walked back to his lab.

Stone, now out of his induced-lovesick daze, looked from the still flushed Flynn to Ezekiel. “What just happened?” he asked, more of a demand than a request.

“I, uh, heh, well I-” Ezekiel stumbled on his words, suddenly embarrassed with how stupid he had been just now. “I may have just sprayed a nondescript bottle of potion on you, unknowing until now that it was probably the leftover love potion Jenkins used to make the antidote.”

“You...what?” Stone’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why the hell would you do that!?”

“I...I dunno, thought it would be funny I guess,” Ezekiel stammered.

“Funny? Really!? After what just happened!?!” Stone growled. He was getting quite angry.

“Ok! It was a stupid idea, I get it!” Ezekiel snapped. He looked to Flynn for help, but Flynn had quietly disappeared. So much for that escape plan. He looked back to Stone, who suddenly looked calmer than he had been.

“Was it because of what I said earlier?” Stone asked, somewhat forced sympathy in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess. I didn't really think about it, spraying you I mean. I did think about what you said though, and you're wrong,” Ezekiel clarified, not sure why he was divulging to Stone.

“What do ya mean ‘I was wrong’?” Stone’s eyebrows were back to furrowed in confusion only.

“I didn't, I don't love Cindy. I saved her because I saw myself in her, or rather myself without my confidence and natural ‘Ezekiel Jones charm.’” He couldn't help acting cocky when talking about his self-esteem, but he dropped it. “I had no one, like her, and I knew how it felt. I could sympathize with her, get her to see the error of her ways, save the day and all. But I never loved her. And Jenkins said it wasn’t love anyway.” He paused, swishing the beer in his bottle like it could alleviate the situation. “If anything my...love...was aimed elsewhere.”

Apparently Stone thought this was the time to joke now. “Oh, well who's the lucky lady?”

“You.” Ezekiel hadn't meant to blurt that and quickly backtracked at the look of confusion, and sudden blush on Stone's face. “I mean you, and Cassandra and Colonel Baird and Jenkins and Flynn. You all filled a hole of what I didn't have: a family who cared about me. And I don't want to lose that.” He laughed to the ceiling, uncomfortable with this sudden sharing of feelings. “Have you not noticed how I changed? I'm not just the thief who waits for my time to shine when I'm needed anymore. I'd die for you guys...I have died, many times, because I don't want to lose you.”

Stone was shocked; his mouth hung half open like he was trying to say something but it wouldn't come out. “I didn't know, I swear.” he looked to the bookcases, a smirk forming on his face before he looked back to Ezekiel. “Now that I think about it, I should've noticed. I guess I got it stuck in my head that you were the self-absorbed thief, so everything you did ultimately was for yourself, but that's not the case anymore.”

“You better not speak a word of this to Colonel Baird or Cassandra,” Ezekiel whispered, feeling quite self-conscious all the sudden.

“Never,” Stone smiled, touched that Ezekiel opened up to him. He ruffled Ezekiel's hair playfully for a moment, though his hand lingered a little longer than necessary. “Thanks for telling me this.”

Ezekiel smiled back meekly, fighting the urge to kiss Stone then and there. He cleared his throat, more for himself than for ending the conversation, and stood up. “I should probably go apologize to Jenkins. I don't want him ticked off at me for a week.” He took a swig of his mostly untouched beer before turning to leave.

“Go get ‘em,” Stone said.

Suddenly something hit him in the butt. Ezekiel jumped, spinning back to Stone smirking at him; a hint of those “bedroom eyes” from before were back. Deciding that was enough feeling confession for now, Ezekiel high-tailed it down the hall to Jenkins, hoping Stone missed the painfully obvious blush on his face.

[toddrogersfl]

Splurge vs Save: fragrance bloggers choose

Could you ever splurge on an all-time lust list fragrance, or save the cash by buying more pocket-friendly (but still utterly fabulous) ‘fumes? We all have fantasties of winning the lottery and suddenly having access to the rarest scents in the world… But when reality hits and more attainable scents are the name of the game, what, I wondered, would some of our favourite social media fragrance commentators choose…?

  Persolaise Splurge: If money were no object, I’d love a full bottle of vintage Diorissimo extrait (price… priceless?) in the famous, gold-topped Baccarat flacon. Actually, I’d be happy with some vintage Diorissimo in ANY bottle, but if we’re dreaming, let’s throw in the Baccarat. I could probably write a whole dissertation on why I love the perfume so much, but if I had to sum up my feelings, I suppose I’d say that, for me, it is THE most perfect example of a perfumer both reflecting nature and putting his own personality on it. Roudnitska’s nose was being guided by the scented gods when he made it. It is an absolute masterpiece.

NB: You can see this very Baccarat bottle at the Dior: Designer of Dreams exhibition in the V&A.

Save: I might go for Gorilla Perfume Kerbside Violet £29 for 30ml eau de parfum from Lush: a modern, uniquely urban take on florals, mixing that strange, green, lung-filling ‘openness’ of violet leaf with smoke, concrete and exhaust fumes. Genius.

Viola Levy, Scents & the City Splurge: If money were no object, I would go for a dazzling bottle as much as the fragrance itself – and for stunning perfume bottles, you can’t go wrong with Lalique (they pretty much invented the concept!) Their limited edition Crystal Collectible Bottle in Naïade €1,200.00 is a miniature work of art, featuring a mermaid-like Art Deco figurine as the stopper, while the fragrance inside: ‘Lalique de Lalique‘ ticks all the boxes when it comes to my favourite perfume notes (jasmine, rose, blackcurrant and sandalwood). I like to think of this scent as the equivalent of an off-the-shoulder cashmere cardi – old-school elegance with subtle sex appeal. Plus you can never go wrong with a mermaid, can you?

Save: Coty‘s L’Aimant,£14.49 at Boots for 50ml eau de toilette, would be a no-brainer. Created by François Coty (dubbed ‘the father of the modern perfume industry’) it was launched in 1927 at the Galleries Lafayette in Paris and is an incredibly romantic concoction. The backdrop was the Roaring Twenties – of girls emboldened by their contribution to the war efforts and the greater freedoms this had allowed them – which lead to the perfume being promoted as ‘the pure essence of Modernism – vivacious, warm and magnetic – the passionate woman’s perfume.’ Certainly it’s similar to No.5 in its composition: sparkly aldehydes, rose and jasmine (always a winning combination for classic scents), but it’s got a lighter spring in its step and a certain sparkle all of its own.

Sarah Gallogly Splurge: If money were not an issue I would blind-buy Mendittorosa Osang. It has a lot of my favourite notes in it such as honey, frankincense, myrhh, labdanum and sandalwood and Mendittorosa is a perfume house I would really love to explore further. I recently tried a sample of Le Mat and it’s straight up beautiful! I can only imagine how spectacular Osang is…

Save: For a fragrance under £40 I believe you can’t beat Lush and I would reach for I’m Home £25 for 30ml eau de parfum, or Cardamom Coffee £39 for 30ml eau de parfum– both wonderful and with sweet, resinous depth. Lush make excellent and creative perfumes for such an affordable price, and I’m a big fan.

Sam Scriven, I Scent You a Day Splurge: My fantasy bottle would be Aedes de Venustas Pelargonium £210 for 100ml eau de parfum, without a doubt. The first time I smelled it, I got emotional. That’s happened about twice in my life, and as a blogger, I’ve smelled thousands of scents. Pelargonium is a woody floral, but so seamlessly blended it’s like a cloak of iridescent fairy wings merging into each other. It’s mainly geranium, but it’s also musk, oakmoss, spices and smooth orris. Just perfection.

Save: There’s a huge choice of great value fragrances at the other end of the spectrum, but if I had to narrow it down, I’d go for Lanvin Arpège £29.99 for 100ml eau de parfum.  It’s a classic aldehydic chypre created in Paris in 1927 and it makes me feel like a grown-up sophisticated lady even when I’m in pyjamas. Trust me, that’s powerful. Because my pyjamas don’t even match.

  Viola Von Cydonia Splurge: If money wouldn’t matter, I’d possibly get a lot of raw materials and make something, or rather experiment with my favourite notes: say, a kilo of Iris butter? I’d be pretty over the moon if I could go into Fortnum & Mason and buy a super fancy Caron bottle and get it filled with Farnesiana from one of those glass samovars (price on request!)

Save: I’m a big fan of discovering affordable scents in unexpected places. I love &Other Stories’s Sardonyx Fire £28 for 50ml eau de toilette, it’s very on-trend with a lot of iso-e super and ambroxan, metallic and musky with sweet florals in the background.

Blueberry Chicks Splurge: The first perfume I’d choose is unavailable today, but if somebody had a sealed version I would have spent my (imaginary) thousands on La Rose Jacqueminot by Coty. I love rose and it is a legendary perfume. It was used by one of the last Romanoff princesses! For a modern perfume, it would be Puredistance White £455 for 100ml eau de parfum – because it smells like diamonds! I have never met a fragrance that’s so deliciously ‘posh’ and yet fresh. The first thing that comes to my mind when I smell it is a sumptuous ballroom full of finely dressed ladies.

Save: Jennifer Lopez Deseo £10.95 for 50ml eau de parfum, on the contrary,  is a recollection of a tropical holidays on the beach. A sweet memory doing nothing all day, with a pina colada in one hand and a book in the other.

Having salivated at the thought of the luscious lottery-win type fragrances mentioned above, and added many of the budget-friendly options to my own shopping basket, of course I couldn’t resist throwing my own scented suggestions into the ring…

Splurge: Oh go on, then, I’ll have a bottle of the original Guerlain Mitsouko, from when it was first released in 1919. Can you imagine? The thing is, I’d want to time-travel back and buy it myself, dressed to the nines in a velvet Opera coat by Elsa Schiparelli, with an ebony cigarette holder and scarlet lips, being shockingly daring yet romantic – presaging the turn of the century and those Bright Young Things to come. One spritz of this (well actually, as money is no object, several lavish applications) and I could snuggle in the cinnamon infused, milk-lapped plump peach skin and oakmoss for hours. In reality, the current reformulation by Thierry Wasser is as close as we’ll get, thanks to oakmoss restrictions, and it still smells *expletive* wonderful.

Save: If you’re looking for something with a sassy swagger, which smells about ten times more expensive than it is, consider unleashing your inner Diva with Emanuel Ungaro‘s much-overlooked masterpiece. First released in 1983, it’s a pleasingly buxom affair of softly powdered rose and iris with a purr of ylang ylang and sandalwood. And the perfumer? None other than Jacques Polge, darlings. Yes, he of the many, many Chanel fragrances. But this can be snapped up at £29.95 for 100ml eau de parfum. I know. You’re welcome.

By Suzy Nightingale

The post Splurge vs Save: fragrance bloggers choose appeared first on The Perfume Society.

from The Perfume Society https://perfumesociety.org/splurge-vs-save-fragrance-bloggers-choose/