#maybe i should wishful think myself a few thousand words

[hollywoodsargeant]

6, 17, 23 💕💕

questions for fic writers

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

oh hm. i actually don't know... i usually do not have any very interesting secrets about my fic unvierses. and if i do i'll probably just hamfist it into the fic somehow. this is very much a non-answer but i thought probably too hard about it and i literally have Nothing

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

OH YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I WANT. au where logan is in indycar. i think it would be fun and interesting... like there is something in me that wants to write a sargewood teammates fic but the idea literally does not go beyond well. That. logan/kyle teammates. idk man i also just want more indycar fics in general and you know whattt maybe logan and indycar are two of my favorite things and i want them Combined. logan sargeant indycar au. i think loscar with logan in indycar could also be fun whether they're both in indy or just logan and oscar is still in f1 hey did you know i love indycar

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

there are actually a few things which most of why i Haven't written them is bc i struggle... but time loop, body swap, time travel, really any of that weird subgenre of vaguely magicky stuff that's kind of just accepted by society as a funny little thing. i do have a body swap wip atm (ik i've posted snippets in the past) that i Do want to finish but i am easily distracted. either way all of those kinds of tropes are ones i lovee to read and have been wanting to write myself for Ever but they always turn out being tougher than i think they'll be

[indulgentdaydream]

I don’t know if you’ve done this yet but headcanon for what it’s like when reader and Jason get into arguments! (Fluff and angst please!)

coming right up!

I feel like it's very divided in the community on how Jason is in an argument

Some say he gets angry and shouts, some say he'll just walk away immediately, some say something completely different

I feel like it depends on the situation really.

If it's something minor, like arguing over how the dishes should be done, then you guys are talking to each other normally again within two minutes (or at least he is)

if it's something a little more major, (example: either you not taking care of yourself properly or jason not taking care of himself properly) it may take a few hours to a day to resolve it

the most severe i think jason would go is maybe three days at most with no contact before he's reaching out to you again

okay I'mma write a blurb on that now

Jason couldn't stand it. He had been in his apartment, trying to clean his guns. It was routine. Disassemble. Organize. Clean. Reassemble. Test. Done. He'd done it a thousand times. But he just couldn't focus.

His mind was circling around your argument.

He had tried to bring up something about one of your bad habits. Something about your work and your schedule that he couldn't even remember the specifics of.

Thinking back on it, he shouldn't have brought it up when he had. You were agitated. Frustrated to begin with. Overwhelmed. It had been because of your schedule. Jason had commented on how you should look into it.

"You should take better care of yourself. I hate seeing you like this."

It was the wrong choice of words.

You had blown up on him, twisting his words back at him.

"I should take better care of myself? Really? Why don't you go take a look in the mirror before you come nitpicking my life, Jason."

He had gotten offended. He had only been trying to help.

"What the hell you yelling at me for?"

You spun around to face him, the two of you on opposite sides of the kitchen, "You tell me to take better care, yet what do you do for yourself? Everyday I feel like I'm asking you to be careful out there and everyday you don't respect my wishes!"

"It's my job!"

"It's not a job!"

Jason doesn't remember that much after that, either.

He shouldn't have yelled back. You were right. You were right and you were tired and frustrated and he hadn't been there for you like he should have.

You had stormed out shortly afterwards, saying more about how he didn't respect you or your wishes.

He hated admitting that you were right about that, too. It wasn't intentional disrespect, he just hadn't acted right.

He left the pieces of his gun on the table and stood up.

I need to apologize to the love of my life.

...

You were sitting in your apartment, watching TV, when you heard the doorbell ring.

You got up, not caring that you were dressed in your pyjamas still, your regular pyjama shirt replaced with one of Jason's.

In a way, you felt horrible about the argument with Jason, too. You shouldn't have snapped at him. You should've brought up your concerns about his vigilante work a different time in a more polite, adult-like manner. It was eating at you, yet you had no idea if he was ready to talk again yet.

You opened the door without looking through the peep hole first, something that Jason would've chided you for, only to find the man himself standing in your doorway.

He was dressed in his motorcycle gear, a helmet in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other.

"I'm sorry."

It's up to you to accept his apology or not i'm sorry but i don't know how to finish this.

add in the notes how y'all would apologize KEEP IT PG PEOPLE

[wordsarelife]

hiii !!! i really love your writing style, and i'm just obsessed with your account in general, i'm just wondering how you started writing?? any tips for beginners? i'm trying to start writing more, but i can't think of a scenario, or i get stuck at some point. any help is appreciated 😭 thank you !!! mwah !! 🫶🏻

hello my love, please excuse my late answer. first, thank you so much for the compliments, you're the sweetest!!! i've been writing basically all my life and i think whats most important for writing is inspiration. i spent so many years reading fanfiction and thinking about topics i would like to read about, just to notice that no one had written them yet so i tried to fill that space myself, with a lot of failing lmao.. but at some point i realized that it's just as fun to write as it is to read other people's stuff.

when i start to write something, i always make sure i'm passionate about the project. i start by imagining scenes that i would love to read about myself, decide on a taylor song i want to use, which does generate even more inspiration and search pinterest for aesthetics and more insparation.

i know what it's like getting stuck while writing (ask the thousand unfinished wips of books i tried to write), but sometimes i try to just write anything, even if its rubbish at first, at least you wrote a few more words.

or just think about the least expectable answer to a simple question and keep in mind that every answer reflect your characters personality. if you let your character answer something unexpectably it might turn the conversation into a different direction. and different is good, it's fun and sometimes you just feel what could be right for the story, without knowing it before. but if you need help to come up with a concept, try to look at blogs on here, who provide prompts or funny quotes to start your story off on.

one of my favorite creators is @creativepromptsforwriting (she also has great tips for writing, far better than any i could give you)

and just to emphasize what i said before, i'm going to show you what i mean by wiriting a little scene between theo and pixie from my series don't blame me:

example quote: you look good

so, to accurately write this scene, you should think about your characters personality, but also the relationship between them.

so it could be like this:

theo: you look good

pixie: thank you

and that would be it. but this conversation doesn't fit either their personality nor their relationship, and a great plus is also that it would be a longer interaction if you let them react differently:

theo: you look good

pixie: what are you trying to do right now?

theo: i don't know, genius, maybe compliment you?

pixie: well, don't expect to get one back, i wouldn't want to inflate your ego any further

theo: aren't you just a ray of sunshine...

pixie: complementing me again huh?

theo: sure...

so this is what i would come up with on the spot and i hope i could help you a bit, but this is mostly what i do when i write and then i just keep writing honestly. what i can tell you is that it will be easier the more you write, you get a feeling for it eventually. so in simpler terms: don't stress too much for perfection (had to learn that the hard way) just write and see what happens and just keep in mind that any word you write will help you to get better at writing, so nothing has to be perfect from the get go. i mean, has anyone ever sat down at a piano and just started playing?

good luck on your journey, i wish you all the fun at writing!!! ❤️

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Getting Lost With Zoro

Zoro Roronoa X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Arguing, clueless Zoro, mentions of violence

Word Count: 1.2k

Your crush on Roronoa Zoro seemed to be growing every single day after you joined the Straw Hat pirates. You were trying your best to keep your feelings a secret from Zoro and fellow Straw Hats alike. The journeys were long and rough but you found a family that you could call your home. At the next island Franky docked the ship into the town’s port, so the crew could restock everything that was needed for the Thousand Sunny. Zoro didn’t have anything pressing to look for in town, except to stock up on booze but he knew that wouldn’t take long so he would do that later. He mostly wanted to get off the ship and go for a walk to stretch his legs and see the scenery. The crew immediately started arguing with the green haired swordsman, until you volunteered to go with him. Sanji deflated at you agreeing to go, as he was trying to talk you into seeing the town with him as he shopped for groceries. To save the blond haired man from pouting or taking out any anger towards Zoro, you promised that the next town you would go with him and spend all day. That immediately appeased the cook, so you and Zoro waved to your crewmates and began to walk in the opposite direction from the town.

Now you wished you paid more attention to your surroundings because now you and Zoro both were lost, with no clue on where you just came from or how you got here. The more Zoro tried to find the right path, the more nervous you grew. The only way you knew Zoro was growing agitated was the tightness of his jaw and the annoyance in his eyes. You kept close but tried not to push him any further as you knew that he would blow up. Finally after another hour of circling the area, you couldn’t stay silent anymore.

“Zoro maybe we should just stop and wait for the others to find us,” you said. “We’ve been going in circles for a couple hours now.”

“You can stay here,” Zoro replied his annoyance levels moving towards explosive levels. “I’m going to keep going and find my way out.”

“Like that has worked the last twenty times we’ve circled this same tree,” you retorted. “Zoro we’re lost and you know it!”

“If you’re so terrified with getting lost, then why did you go with me,” he roared, patience finally worn out. “You could have gone with anyone else!”

You flinched at his tone and the anger in his eyes. Zoro wasn’t known for his patience or having an easygoing manner. He had been a pirate hunter at one time and a good one. You were seeing the side of the man that made him so deadly and it scared you.

Once your moment of fear had passed all you could feel was anger boiling up inside you, as Zoro could only remain clueless about your feelings for him. Sure you didn’t like being lost and deep down inside you could admit that you were frightened that you would both stay lost. But his cluelessness didn’t give him a right to treat you this way.

“I wanted to go with you because I like you,” you screamed. “You stupid jerk! How can you be so clueless?! I didn’t want to go with Sanji or Luffy or Franky! I wanted to be with you and now I’m beginning to question myself why!”

Before Zoro could utter one word, you turned around and stomped away leaving the swordsman speechless. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. You were already lost with no sense of where to go anyway, it didn’t matter if you got further away or not. Just as long as you weren’t around Zoro right now. Finally you sat down at the base of a palm tree and wiped at the rogue tears that were able to slip by your barricade. You didn’t want to cry over him and you didn’t want to feel guilty about what you said either. Picking up a stray coconut, you tossed it and catching it before it hit the ground. You did that a few times before setting it back down and rolling the coconut around absentmindedly. 

You lost track of time quickly and it was hard to think when your stomach started to rumble in hunger. Despite not wanting to see Zoro, you did wish for one of his blades and the skills to use one right now. The coconut was viciously tempting you with the goods inside but the impenetrable shell keeping you from the contents inside. You were on the verge of just starting to chuck it at a tree when you heard the brush around you rustling. You froze, glancing wearily at the moving leaves. You held the coconut defensively as now it had gone from food to potential weapon.

To your relief and dismay, Zoro stumbled out of the thick brush right into the clearing you were in. You dropped the coconut and glared at him, though you had to be honest part of you was glad it was him and not a predator.

“What are you doing here,” you huffed.

“Trying to find you,” he answered while resting a hand on the hilts of his blades.

“Congratulations you found me.”

“Why are you so defensive,” Zoro growled.

“Excuse me?!” You stepped into his face, thoughts about how strong Zoro is left your mind. Grabbing his collar you tugged him down to your face.

“You are the biggest jerk to ever be born. I wish that I had gone with Sanji! At lease he has some tact and wouldn’t be questioning why I’m so angry right now!”

Despite yourself you couldn’t help the tears this time. You released Zoro and turned away, wiping vehemently at your wet cheeks.

“Hey,” he stepped forward, his broad chest pressed up against your back. “I’m sorry. I get it now.”

“Do you really,” you sniffed, skeptical that he actually did understand.

“I don’t know what you see in a guy like me but yeah I do,” he wrapped you in a hug and you melted against him.

“I’m sorry I screamed at you,” you apologized.

“I am too,” Zoro replied.

He released you to pick up the coconut that you had held when he arrived. With one swift smooth motion he had the coconut sliced in half. Handing you one half, he gulped the milk inside before cutting chunks from the flesh. It didn’t take long for you and Zoro to be sitting back against your tree, enjoying fresh coconuts and talking. You were even able to make him laugh a couple times before you both started to become drowsy.

The Straw Hat crew just knew that Zoro would end up lost, so they didn’t wait long to start searching for the green haired man and you. What they weren’t expecting was both of you passed out against a tree. Zoro had a protective arm wrapped you and the other around his swords. He snored loudly and you nuzzled deeper into his side, just as deep in a sleep as he is. The crew decided to give you both a little more time together as there was no rush in leaving.

[altades]

The adventurers’s diary

With the end of our adventure finally crossed I have decided to find an empry book and quill among the piles of junk we’ve picked up along the way to string my erratic thoughts into some sort of sensable paragraghs. If only to use up all the ink I have stacked away in camp, though even a full chest of empty pages won’t be enough to depict all the troubles we have weathered.

My name is errelavant, so is my past, for I have lost them in the end. And I will not mention them for the fear that skummy bard decides to steal it, though I do not belive he holds much favor for the truth. But if any adventurer finds this message, forgotten in a place I have long since abandoned, or stacked away in a corner of a dusty bookshelf and be curious enough to read it, you are welcome to share the last shreds of humanity I can conjure up.

I have been no hero, no warrior, no chosen when it all began. But I had a desire that has been etched into my soul, so deeply a thousand scars couldn't carve it out. To be loved, but more so, to deserve to be loved. It was what made me so eager to help anyone and everyone I've met. Just so they would look at me kindly, just so they would stay, just so they would keep their words and hands gentle when they brushed against mine.

By a twist of fate I was granted an opportunity to serve as a savior not to a few, but to thousands, maybe millions, of souls. I was the beacon of light to the whole of Faerun, and even to those beyond it. My journey is sure to be immortalized in countless ballads, my heavy footsteps followed by bards and historians alike. They will sing in awe, yet they will never know the cost of their salvation.

"We own you our lives!" They said in unison. "We'll never forget you." They promised. They didn't know the person they cherished was already dead.

Their body was dismembered, consumed and twisted into a new form, disgusting and vile.

Their soul was devoured by the very creature they sought to destroy.

Their mind… Is still there. Shreds of consciousness, beliefs and ideas, slipping away with every passing day.

Now I stand where they stood. They haunt me like a ghost of you as a child. Like somebody you used to know, somebody you used to be, but through time and change no longer are. When your hair was sun-bleached blond, only to darken with age. When your voice, light as a fairy bell once, got deeper and stronger. When your skin, smooth and pure, got covered in scars big and small. My changes are… more dramatic. It makes it hard to believe I was ever myself at all.

Perhaps my love saw it too. After all of our companions went their separate ways, we went together at first. But it didn't last long. I sensed it in his voice, saw the disgust in his eyes, felt in his touch before he said anything. He did not want to be with me anymore. I cannot blame him, for my new appearance would only attract either the bravest, or the insane, and he is neither. But it still hurt. At least, I think it did.

It's getting harder to grasp the sway of my emotions. What was a living ocean of feeling is now but a puddle in a desert, quickly drying up. I know I should've been heartbroken when he left, after all, it is what is expected of a person when the life of their life leaves them. But it's hard to feel broken when you no longer have a heart.

Maybe I should end this, while there is still something left of me to end. But he has taught me that I am more than what I am willing to sacrifice, so let my last act of devotion to him be to act selfishly, and to live on no matter what I may become.

I wish my companions were here with me. Maybe they could guide me, as I've guided them, to a better future. Bring out the best in me, believe in good in me, show me the way. But I am alone, and the hunger grows. I envy vampires, for they can consume without killing. And they have the privilege of never seeing the reflection of the monster they have become.

Fortunately, we will see each other soon. I only hope to keep the shreds of my identity together long enough to be able to bask in their company, for they hold the parts of me that cannot be lost.

The rest of the pages are stained with blood, unintelligible.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Sup bitches! Guess who made a confession fic for Arcane egg, Golden butter, and Shadow milk. Me! First things first @revisitingfandoms helped me come up with the gifts, but also write the letters! Check them out!

Anyways tell me what you think of the fic!

—————————————————————————————-

He sits at a desk within a well ferbished room decorated in a variety of blues, purples, magentas, and some cyans. Within his vice tight grip is a letter, the packaging is tossed aside and now sits next to a mechanical flower. The flower shifts from a inky yet iridescent black to various shades of blue on each of the petals. The stem is a shining light silver that glints within the light, both petals and stem hold an intricate design of swirls and eyes. The most curious thing about the flower though is the soft music emminating from it. Its a playful tune, one might here this type of song playing at a carnival or maybe theater.

Shadow milk cookie keeps rereading the letter, over and over his eyes linger on each word. The familiar sent of sweet sugars and of metal almost overwhelm him more than the actual words. He can’t believe, he just can’t. Arcane sent him a confession letter, and such a sincere one to! They might say they were no good with words, but this makes his heart beat incredibly fast. It’s such a simple letter but that may be why it’s so effective, in its simple nature it’s incredibly sincere and heartfelt.

It reads…

(Dear Moonie,

It's been a long run between us, huh? So many years between us, from the old days on my island and your tower to where we are today. I missed you for so many years when you were taken. I can’t count the amount I would just sit back and wish that you were here by my side. I remember wanting at one point wanting to just summon you to tell me what happened and yet- I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Anytime I thought about it- I’d look back on the false letter the witches sent thinking that this was what you wanted.

I betrayed my emotions hundreds of times- always thinking ‘he wanted to be alone, this what he wants’. Part of me can only look back at how foolish I was. Did I not know you for hundreds of years? Did I not visit and learn beside you for decades? Perhaps it was my assumption and belief of you being under the influence of the corruption. I only realize now that was something that doomed me in the end.

Moonie Shadow Milk, I have come to realize one thing. I cannot hide the pains I’ve gained over the years, I should not hide my pains because in the hide they will only come back to hurt myself and those who care for me.  

Shadow Milk, I did not tell you everything that day. I left a few secrets to myself and I tell you now because I cannot bring myself to say it in person.

Shadow Milk Cookie, I love you. It's a realization that hasn’t come to me easily, much less immediately.

I realized only after you were sealed. Perhaps that's what originally broke my heart- I remember Golden Butter telling me about the kiss you shared between her and you. Part of me had resigned to never holding your heart- until you told me those words that day. I won’t hesitate here and now. Shadow Milk I love you. 

Yours truly, 

Sunny.)

His eyes keep going back to the words “I love you”, he feels just a little light headed and his face can’t help but deepen in color. He forces himself to put down the letter and tenderly picks up the mechanical gift, he holds it like it’s the most valuable thing he owns and would ever own. As the soft music plays his mind wonders back to letter, has his dear Sunny really felt this way for that long. For thousands of years, even though he and the rest were sealed? Even though they thought his heart belonged to another… even when the two people she liked we’re interested in each other and not her. 

That sounds like torture! Complete and other torture! Shadow milk grips his hair tightly with one hand, the other still holds the precious flower. He quickly hops out of his chair which almost knocks it over, and begins to rapidly pace back and forth in the room. Holding those types of feelings with that intensity within yourself for that long! That sounds awful! So very awful! How, why did she do that to herself! Not even confessing to just get those feelings out, but instead keeping them buried! Why he ask’s himself… he knows why, or at least her their reasoning why. 

She thought that if she did confess her feelings that they wouldn’t only not be reciprocated, but she thought she’d loose both oh her closest friends. Which offends him, it offends him greatly! Do they think so little of their friendship that they think he’d just leave, he’s their blinding BEST-FRIEND! And another thing! They were just gonna let themselves suffer, which is unacceptable! He can’t help it when he stamps his foot on the ground in frustration. 

That big depressed dumb dumb! Well he won’t stand for it, he needs to find Golden butter and talk to her about her feelings. Because of the mention of her in his letter Arcane must’ve sent her one to! He quickly bounds towards the door and flings it open with haste. Those who are tempted to stop him to ask questions on the reconstruction of the Blueberry academy quickly decided against it, for he had an intense look in his eyes. As if he were a predator on the hunt, they feel bad for whoever earned his ire.

….Indeed. Poor Arcane egg cookie, poor Arcane egg cookie  indeed.

Luckily for Shadow milk cookie Golden butter cookie is in the same kind of predicament he was in. Golden butter recently decided to take a break from her travels, as a result she’s in her toy box relaxing in her room… well she was relaxing. Right now she was sitting on the edge of her bed with a letter in a tight grip, with wide eyes scanning the letter. For her usual easy expression with minimal reactions is now very, very expressive. 

The letter that’s gotten such a reaction reads…

(Dear Starlight,

A Lot has happened over these thousands of years and there's quite a bit I feel I should say. The question is how I put it into words.

For the longest time I’ve had feelings for Shadow Milk and yet- You loved him. Back then I was more than content to let you two be with each other even at my own expense. You two made each so happy and I couldn’t…

I couldn’t bring myself to ruin that. Yet over time something inside me grew- I didn’t realize it right away.

It was only after you were asleep that I realized I was in love with you. I remember silently cursing fate, I remember more than expecting for my own heart to break once again. 

Yet in the aftermath of everything, I want to defy that so-called fate I thought of- I want to chance this, I want to so badly.

Starlight I am in love with you, I am so very much in love with you and shadow Milk- more than anything. 

Sincerely yours,

Sunny)

As Golden butter nervously twirls a strand of her golden hair, to her side on her bedside table a small mechanical flower can be seen. The flowers petals are various shades of yellow that fade to white tips, the stem is a darker gold-brass that’s cool to the touch. It’s center is a brown metallic button, the most spectacular thing about it though is when it’s in light. For when that happens the white tips of the petals refract the light creating a soft multicolor iridescent light. It seems Arcane is truly after the artists heart.

And it seems Arcane may have seized it, for Golden butter pulls the letter to her chest as if it were one of her precious dolls. A faint blush can be seen on her face as she can’t help but let out a small giddy giggle as she kicks her feet slightly. After a long moment as she collects her emotions she grabs the metal flower, she can now hear a faint melody playing. It’s as soothing as a lullaby, and so Golden puts the flower in her beret. It’s a perfect match!

When she first read the confession she was so sure she saw Arcane as only a close friend, but afterwards she can’t be sure that’s true anymore. For her heart started to beat oh so fast after the simple words “I love you”. After the realization Golden can’t help but giggle slightly, for if she said that to Arcane they would’ve teased “ Damn. Cant believe historians will remember us as the closest of friends~.”

For as quiet as they may be, they are quite lively, witty even. That’s probably one of the reasons why her and Shadow milk got along so well… as yes Shadow milk. They liked Shadow milk, oh god she confessed her feelings about Shadow milk to them. Is that- is that why they seemed slightly off? No wonder, of course they would be slightly different after that! You confessed to not only liking their crush, but you were also one of their crushes.

As Golden butters thoughts continue to run wild at that realization a soft ping could be heard. She sits still for a moment before searching for her communication device, Arcane made one for all of them do they can stay in touch. When she finally finds it another ping rings out, she quickly answers.

“U-um yes? How may I help you-“

“Hey Goldie! Did you happen to say- get a well worded confession from our dear Sunny!” While his voice might hold a lively conviction to it, his actual mood seems to be intense. Maybe slightly irritated?

“Oh yes I did, why are you asking-“

“Great, now I need you to be as plain as possible, mkay? Do you have feelings for Sunny.” He… was being uncharacteristically serious.

“I-… yes. Yes I do… do you?”

“Of course I do, just as much as I love you.” That admittance of feeling makes Golden’s heart beat and stutter. “So…”

“Sooo..?”

“Cmon now Goldie! If we both like them, we like each other, and they like us both why not take a chance!! Or is the doll maker to afraid to loose control, hmm~” for as much as she wanted to snap back at him, he was right in a sense…even if he was being a slight jerk about it. She was always withdrawn allowing herself to drown in her doubt, to never believe and take a chance.

“Yeah… ok I’m willing to give it a try.” She said firmly, resolute in her actions.

“Good~! Now I’m on my way to pick you up because we have a very silly, and I mean silly silly egg to cheer up!”

“Cheer up? Last time I checked they were doing much better. Why did something happen??”

“Not quite my dear, while it is true that she’s gotten better. We both know her, we know how much of a nervous mess they get when dealing with uncertainties. Especially when it’s stuff, or in this case people she cares about. Are we really gonna let our dead Sunny burn themselves out in worry until they fizzle out like a dying star?”

“No, when are you getting here”

“Oh theirs the conviction~ I’ll be three minutes.”

…..

Arcane egg sits quietly within a gazebo near their old facility, their old home. They're currently on the old island port they used to run, it’s now abandoned but she’s thinking of getting it back up and running. So not only can beast yeast have easier access to the world outside, but so she can give trade opportunities to Gingerbrave’s kingdom. Give them a little gift for giving them the opportunity to see their family again, no matter how incidental it might’ve been. They feel a need to pay a debt.

And so for the past week or so they’ve worked on fixing their old… facility, facility is the best way to describe it they think. For it’s a mish mash of multiple types of buildings, such as the green house, the lighthouse, the lab, etc…. Her “keep” might be a better word. Anyways she’s been working on fixing it up since she plans to help run this old port again. But recently they’ve taken a break from that to…. Write their confession letters to Shadow milk and Golden butter.

It’s only been a day since she sent the letters she knows!! But gods above waiting is SO nerve wracking, like she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. And they hate it, they hate this feeling so, so much. God do they feel a little pathetic, wait no! No talking bad about yourself you promised you won’t. Arcane takes a deep breath in, no need to catastrophize everything ok. 

They move to the edge of the gazebo with lush tall wild grass all round, with a multitude of wild flowers dotted within. Arcane then plucks a few wild flowers and begins to weave them together into a flower crown. They needed to do something with their hands. And so a few minutes pass with only a gentle breeze to fill the air. Arcane egg than heard something…. Were they foot steps?

“Wait! Shadow milk wait-“ was that Golden butters voice? Wait what-

(THUD)

Arcane egg is suddenly knocked backwards into the grass with a loud thud, they drop the flower crown they were making. “Wha. Who?” Arcane stutters out.

The person pinning her to the ground says “We finally found you~!” Shadow milks sing song voice rings out.

“Huh- Moonie? How did you get here so fast. Weren’t you on Crispia?”

“Tut tut tut, my dear Sunny I’m an accomplished mage! Of course I got here quickly, besides you left the teleportation line open to us!”

“Oh cool…” is all Arcane can say, still very stunned from being tackled so brazenly. Especially since she’s so short.

“Shadow milk, get off her. We have things to discuss.” Golden butter says calmly but firmly, she’s focused on the goal at hand.

“But oh c'mon~ she’s just too cute like this!” Shadow milk presented Arcane like a most prized possession.

“Shadow milk…”

“Fine, fine, no fun.” Shadow milk lets out a small hmph before setting Arcane egg back on the gazebo floor quite gently actually, he then sits right beside her.

“W-why did you tackle me? Did I do something wrong?” Arcane is still a little winded.

“I wouldn’t say you did something wrong Arcane, but we do need to talk.” Golden butter then sits on Arcanes other side.

“…. Is it about the letters..?” Arcane asks nervously, are they upset?

“Hey now! Don’t start spiraling on us now!” He pinches Arcanes cheek, out of affection mostly “We actually accept!”

“HUH!?” Arcanes voice cracks a little “Really?!”

Golden butter gives Arcane a tender look “of course we accept, and even if we didn’t we wouldn’t be cruel about it.”

“Do you think so lowly of us Sunny, oh I’m wounded.”

“NO! Not at all, I just… never got the impression Goldie liked me that way. You either Moonie.”

Shadow milks face softens noticeably “Oh Sunny.” He grabs one of their hands “of course I loved you, even when I let my attention turn from you. From what really matters, I still did it for my family. For you!”

Golden butter than grabs Arcanes other hand “… I know I left you alone for… so long, I made you grieve for such a long time. And for that I’m truly sorry, we both are. Which is also why we won’t let you slip away now.”

(…Sniffle)

The two look at Arcane egg suddenly, was- was she crying?

“Hey hey hey, Sunny-!” Shadow milk begins to wipe away a few tears 

“I- I’m sorry, I just… didn’t think you would feel the same way… I was afraid of pushing you away.” Arcanes watery voice breaks her silent crying

“Oh Hun- we would never do that! We care about you too much” Golden butter says while brushing some hair out of Arcanes eyes “…we love you to much to do that.”

This makes them cry more “Guh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They quickly wipe away their tears “but if you do feel the same way… do- do you want to go on a date?”

Both of them stare before a deep blush can be seen on each “Of course! Oh this is a dream come true!” Shadow milk claps happily 

“I- of course!” Golden butter blurts out 

The three begin to discuss what their first date should be, and when beneath a sunset. Arcane doesn’t know how this will end but… she’s hopeful. It’s a nice feeling, and so warm…

She loves them so much.

AUFAIHTAUOHGIGUUSHGJGH THEY'RE ALL SO SILLY I LOVE THEM!!!

[starfragment1979]

A few days ago I finally started the last chapter of the fic I'm writing, and I've been thinking, "I'm in the home stretch now! I can start posting soon!" Then I did the math, and realized there is at least another month of writing time, probably more, plus editing time after that.

And after this story, I've got another medium length Flick/CJ story fully plotted out in my head, plus a long one plotted out enough to start writing, plus a medium length 5+1 style fic that would be five flashback scenes and one present tense scene but a lot of the flashback scenes are so cute I might want to flesh them out to be their own stories instead. Plus about half of two or three other medium length stories, plus easily a dozen or more unconnected scenes that are also cute and that I'd like to turn into full stories.

PLUS I also have a Bam/Beau story plotted out in my head, and a Wilbur/Gulliver one, and about half of a Cherry/Katt one, plus I wanna write a story shipping Isabelle with someone, maybe Lottie, I dunno.

But... I can only write about 500 words a day, maaaybe up to 800 on the goodest of good day, and then I run out of steam and my brain starts to overheat and I need to go lie down. And if you've read my fics, you know I write long stories. By the time I've written all the Animal Crossing fics currently in my head, the next Animal Crossing game will be out.

It's just so frustrating to be so limited as to what I can do, because I didn't used to write so slowly, and I worry because it's getting slower--a few months ago I was able to get 1000 words a day sometimes. But the writing thing is really just a microcosm of my life with long covid--for every one (1) thing I am actually able to accomplish, there's easily a thousand more things I want to do but can't. And despite the fact that I know better, it still feels like I should be able to write more. It's a sit down activity! I can even bring my laptop to bed! But writing means thinking and feeling, and thinking and feeling uses energy, and my energy is so ridiculously, pathetically limited these days.

And writing (and creative work in general) is so vital to my mental health and sense of well-being, and it just feels like if there was any fairness in the universe, that I would at least be able to do this, this sit down activity that brings me pleasure and lets me feel like an actual human being. But instead everything I love just keeps getting taken away from me as I get sicker and sicker.

I dunno, I'm just feeling kinda sorry for myself. At least my brain still works enough that I can play over stories in my head while I'm incapacitated in bed, I just wish it didn't take me forever to write them down so I can share them.

[hetalia-club]

Russia won because multiple big named artists in this fandom was sharing the posts on Twitter and other sites. You even said sabotage was allowed? Why you mad?

pay attention please....you could easily find your answer if you scroll down just a little to read but you clearly can't do that so I will again repeat myself so there is no confusion.

I'm MAD because people were saying they would kill/harm themselves if certain characters didn't win leaving me in a bad position. also mad is not the word. Disappointed/annoyed is a better word I am not someone who gets 'mad'.

Also as I said when I said sabotage was allowed creating thousands of fake accounts was not what i had in mind. 1 or 2 sure but hundreds just defeats the purpose and destroys the fun of actually seeing who people like more. if it's just a few people battling it out on who can make the most accounts faster is dumb. Idk what you say it's just stupid. Maybe it would be Russia maybe it wouldn't we'll never know now because teh voting was thrown off by people making a ton of fake accounts

there was mass fake blog making on BOTH sides. Not just Russia OR Romano's side. just a few hours I watched it go from 51% Russia 52% Romano 52%russia and back to 51% Russia that is over 500 votes in like 3 hours. it is just not possible idk what you say. How the votes would be mass and sway so heavily one side at a time is just not possible. Sure a few votes here and there is possible but not hundreds and hundreds back and forth. As I said I had the annons admitting they rigged it i have admission from both sides from multiple annons.(I did clean out my inbox because there was a ton in there but they were there) Once I mentioned I was disappointed by the mass rigging the votes stopped completely. I know what I am talking about. you can think I'm stupid and disagree if you want but i know what I'm talking bout.

i don't give a fuck if Russia would have beaten Romano fairly. To think Romano would have taken the whole thing fairly on his own is a long shot. I said in the tags when I posted this round 'the king had a good run but i don't think he could pull this one off'. i said the only person i didn't want beating Romano was Spain but that is for a personal vendetta.

you can ask people I DM with in private messages I said "hey I would love Romano to win he has my vote but I really don't think he can do it realistically." I told people I DM NOT to make a bunch of accounts and to just let it be fair.

I still don't know what I am going to do about the results. I do wish people would think about ME. i am not just a faceless account I am a real person you are demanding answers from as if you know me at all or know what I've been dealing with in my ask box.

if you have been following this poll you would know that I did not disqualify Spain when 1 person was sending me dozens of hate mail every day for about 2 months.

maybe I'll change my mind when I get over it. like I said IDK what I'll do but sending me asks saying 'why you mad bro' is not helping me epically when I have stated like 15 times 'why I'm mad bro'

also don't fucking blame Ironic-Orange OR Grims for this they have no control what their followers do just like how I don't. They didn't tell everyone to go make hundreds of mass fake accounts and spend actual real life hours swaying votes. The didn't tell their followers to send me asks implying they would hurt themselves if the polls did not go the way they wanted. They did NOTHING WRONG. I don't want another person in my asks or tags saying other wise I have already deleted several. I'm not upset with them at all I blame them for nothing! That would be dumb. All they did was promote and say they would draw art if they won. Which GREAT! i love that! Now you get your art! everyone wins. Everyone should be happy. Idk why you aren't unless you were one of the ones spamming new accounts and you feel invalidated. Which you shouldn't because you won! congrats!

[biffhofosho]

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter Five

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: First of all, you guys are insane. Thank you so much for all the interaction! I love feeling like I’m getting something right. :)

Secondly, ngl, proud of this one right here. Maybe made myself blush, too... I have serious problems, okay? And heads up - smut with angsty feelings throughout the rest of the book from here on out. >.>

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

Naran didn’t remember the walk back to their wing, but suddenly, she was standing in the seating area between two very different bedrooms with her new husband at her side. She vaguely remembered the emperor and empress giving the couple their blessings for a “successful first union,” but she could just as easily be remembering the same speech repeated dozens of times over the past several weeks.

A voice behind her echoed dimly in her mind. “Would Your Highnesses like for me to call for servants to help you undress?”

Hyungwon looked to his wife, but Naran was still too frozen to answer. With a grateful smile, he said, “Thank you, Magda, but I think we can figure it out.”

Even a seasoned servant like Magda couldn’t hide her dubious look, but she bowed nonetheless and wished them every happiness imaginable before leaving them in the stark, cold gulf between the two royals’ rooms.

The prince cleared his throat and asked, “Um, shall we head inside? It might be warmer.”

But Naran was already warm. In fact, she was boiling under the layers of her hanbok. She was on fire under her very skin. Still, she nodded and followed Hyungwon to his door.

It opened soundlessly though she had expected a creak or some other ominous noise. She hadn’t been in there since the day she’d arrived at the palace, and while everything should have looked the same, it didn’t. The room was bigger, or maybe she was smaller.

“Curtains?” asked the princess, gesturing toward the thick drapes that had been hung from the ornate canopy above his bed.

“It’s for our privacy since…”

Hyungwon didn’t need to say it. Naran knew all too well of this custom, for it was practiced even in her homeland. Heirs were the most important clause in any royal contract, and after too many shams in the past, at some point, it was decided that witnesses on the wedding night went a long way toward encouraging successful couplings. Of course, it also took an already awkward situation and amplified it by thousands.

“Let us change first,” suggested the prince, “and we can meet inside the curtains when you’re comfortable. Then, we can call in the others when we’re ready.”

“I—” Naran stopped, the sounds gummed up in her throat. What was wrong with her? She closed her eyes and pictured her next words since she couldn’t seem to say them without deliberate thought. “I cannot get out of this costume myself.”

Hyungwon bit his bottom lip and nodded. “What do you want me to do? Should I call Magda back?”

“It’s okay. Just… The crown and the hair twists—I can’t figure out how to remove them.”

Naran turned her back to him so Hyungwon could reach out with hesitant hands. At the first brush of his fingers against her scalp, the princess flinched and he yanked his hands back.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Sorry. Please continue.”

Naran felt his soft exhale along the back of her neck, and she prayed he could pull out all the pins quickly, but soon it became clear that she had no hope of such mercies.

“Maybe we should have asked Magda for help after all,” Hyungwon said as he fumbled about her hairline.

The hairstyle was even more elaborate than Naran had anticipated, and it took the prince a few minutes of roving through what locks he could loosen and sending shivers down her spine before all the pins were pulled and the loops were unwound. Perhaps he was right, but at the time, Naran had been too busy wishing to get everything over with to consider how elaborate her wedding gown truly was.

At last, she was free of the prison on her head, and Naran shook it to unfetter every last strand of hair. It tumbled down to her low back, and blood coursed through the relieved flesh, leaving a singular tingling that gathered in strength through her whole body.

“Hm.”

The sound was soft behind her, a borderline grunt.

“What?” she pressed.

“Nothing.” After a moment, Hyungwon added, “It’s just… Your hair smells really nice.”

Naran hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until she opened her mouth to respond. “Oh. Yes, they—they washed it in something that looked like milk and flower petals?”

Why did she say that like a question? Even she knew she sounded ridiculous.

Slowly, the prince’s fingers combed through her locks, and it spilled over like ribbons of silk until there was only one ribbon left in his hand. He rubbed it between his thumb and finger and hummed again.

“So soft.”

Naran froze. “Thank you, my lord.”

The prince remembered himself, and he dropped her hair to step back. “My apologies. What else do you need me to do, my lady?”

The princess let her hair fall across her face just as the curtains did around the bed since it felt like the only way she could answer her husband. “Um, there is also a series of laced ties at the back of my waist that I cannot undo myself. If you loosen them, it should be enough for me to take care of the rest on my own.”

First, Hyungwon swept her blanket of hair over her shoulder, and even beneath the many layers of fabric, the temperature plunged as her heat fled elsewhere. The prince steadied her waist, and once she was still, Naran felt his fingers play about the curve of her back as he worked the knot she’d accidentally made in her attempt to break free herself. It felt like forever before the skirt over the hanbok slackened, and she hurried to catch it before it fell away.

“Thank you again,” she whispered. “Where shall I change?”

Hyungwon’s eyebrows softened. “Over there? Are you okay with that side of the bed?”

So, she had a side of someone else’s bed now…

Naran’s heart was beating so fast, she thought it might burst.

She nodded, and he added, “Let me know when you are comfortably in bed, and I will join you.”

Hyungwon was being so considerate—so patient—but all she could focus on were his words: I will join you.

Naran had never been embarrassed about sex. In those fleeting few trysts with the stablehand or the drunken soldier whose name she’d never even gotten, she enjoyed it and the power it brought her. It had been risky and exciting, and maybe part of it had been the notion that if she became pregnant, it might be an excuse to dethrone her, but at the last moment each time, she had always backed away from that particular ledge. Still, something about the way Hyungwon looked at her with his high eyebrows and parted lips made her feel an unexpected, stomach-tightening shyness. She decided to blame it on the wine first and then the fact that he was now officially her husband. It had always been easier when the men were nomads who would be gone with the next breeze, but she and Hyungwon were now bound—forever.

The princess circled the bed on jelly legs while praying not to collapse. Thanks to the thickness of the drapes, she knew she could change in peace, but it turned out there was no possibility of that either because, even though they offered blessed privacy, they could not block out the soft shushing sounds of her husband’s clothes falling away piece by piece.

Naran did not know how far to undress. She’d never been fully naked next to another person, and she wasn’t even sure if that was expected. In the end, she removed her hanbok and all the accessories and layers until she was left in the long underdress. If all that was expected was just the simple coupling, she could stay most comfortable this way and not have to worry about exposing too much of herself in all ways.

She parted the drapes and slipped into the bed. The comforter had already been turned down by some anticipatory servant, and when she put her hands to the sheets, she found they’d been warmed, too. Naran climbed under the covers and pulled the sheet high up on her waist. She wondered if she should lay down, but she wasn’t convinced her spine would allow her at the moment.

“You may enter,” she called softly in a voice that did not sound like her own.

Candlelight splintered the silken cocoon through the crack when the prince slipped inside, and the second the drape cascaded back into place, their little universe seemed to unmoor from reality. It was dark within, not pitch thanks to the halo of light that made it over the canopy frame but enough that she could only make out a silhouette of her husband in her periphery.

Neither of them risked looking at the other.

Hyungwon cleared his throat and announced louder, “Come in.”

His words rebounded off the curtains with the same drama of a thunder rumble, and Naran was just as shaken.

They heard the door open and two pairs of feet walk into the room. She had no idea who was out there, but she knew she wouldn’t hear them leave until the royal obligation was fulfilled.

The couple sat in silence for a long minute before Hyungwon finally turned to look at her. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”

Through the dim light, Naran found his one-sided, dopey smile and rallied the courage to breathe again.

“It is,” she agreed.

They kept their voices low to protect what was left of their privacy, but it had the ill-intended effect of making the prince’s voice deep and raspy. Vaguely, Naran remembered the voices and sounds of the other men she’d been with, but they hadn’t sounded like this. Hyungwon sounded like sin itself.

“Shall I call for a drink?” he asked.

“I’ve had more than enough wine, thank you.”

“Very well. If you want, we can talk for a bit while we relax?”

Naran shook her head. “I’d rather not.”

“You just want to get it over with…” he concluded, and the richness in his voice flattened with his words. At last, she looked at him head-on. He was staring at his hands in his lap, tracing one of the pomegranates embroidered on the ceremonial wedding night comforter. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s been a very long day, and it must be especially overwhelming for you.”

“Yes, but…” Naran trailed off and he looked up, his eyes even bigger in the darkness. She let out a frustrated sigh. “How do I say this? Even if all those things are true…”

Hyungwon leaned into her words. As close as they had to be sharing his bed, it felt like he was already inside of her.

“…my body still responds to you.”

She had said it at last, and now that it was out, the princess wished she could gobble it back up. Here was the man who’d taken everything important from her. She should hate him, but instead, she felt magnetized to him. Worse yet, in many ways, the truth was unavoidable: she needed him.

Hesitantly, Hyungwon reached out, his hand resting over hers in her lap.

“You’re ice cold,” he murmured.

From the moment they entered the bedroom and she’d caught a glimpse of the shadowy outline of his luscious lips, her heat had pooled to a single place.

“Sorry.”

But Hyungwon shook his head as he switched to massaging her hands, and they warmed quickly. “All better, see?”

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

He released her hands, and instead, he rested his on her thigh. It didn’t matter that there were two layers of blankets between them—she felt him keenly.

Their eyes met. The temperature in the bed rose exponentially, as did her expectations. Naran could feel it, the shift between them.

His thumb moved along the top of her thigh, strokes so slow that they could either be reassuring or exploratory. Hyungwon smiled at her.

“Would you like a massage? You know, to help you relax?” he suggested.

“That sounds nice.”

Naran swiveled on the bed so that her back was facing him, and she idly braided her hair as she waited with every fiber of her being for his touch.

She felt his breath on her neck first, and the next thing she knew, his mouth was by her ear, whispering, “Leave your hair down please.”

Her hands fell to her lap at once.

“Thank you,” he added and underscored it with a trace of his thumb along the neglected skin behind her ear.

Her gasp was out before she could stop it.

Hyungwon curled his fingers around the base of her neck, his thumbs meeting over her spine. Starting at the base of her skull, he rubbed small circles that had Naran purring already, and gradually, the chill of her resentment, sadness, and fear turned to kindling for the match he’d just struck.

From there, his thumbs traveled in unison down her spine to the base of her neck, over and over again, at last parting so his hands could sweep over her shoulders. He gripped her there, pressing gently into her stiff muscles. It was easy for him to find the tension there, but with each wave of the prince’s hands, Naran’s spine softened until he stopped altogether.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Whispering again, Hyungwon said, “You’re pressed up against me. I can’t move.”

The princess tipped forward, her cheeks hot and her back cold now that it wasn’t conformed to her husband.

“It might help if you lie down,” he suggested.

At this point, if she didn’t, Naran would probably collapse, so she squirmed under the sheets further as she rested her head on the pillow and stared blankly at the ceiling. The warmth of the wine made her limbs feel heavy while, at the same time, it made her mind feel lighter.

Hyungwon chuckled, and her head snapped toward him as did her voice, “What’s so funny?”

“I figured you would lay on your stomach, but I’m happy to oblige either way.”

“Should I roll over?”

Hyungwon raised his brows as he looked down at her. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t bother, my lady. This way, I get to see your pretty face.”

Naran scoffed at him. “You’re very good at getting what you want, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” But she could tell by the tone of his voice that he knew it to be true. “What is it I want then, Princess?”

She considered him from her pillow. Hyungwon knelt beside her looking every bit as royal and penitent as he should, but not his eyes. In his eyes, Naran saw mischief.

“Nothing that I can say out loud in the presence of other ears,” she replied.

This time when he laughed, Hyungwon tipped to the side almost like a boy instead of the heir incumbent to a massive and feared empire.

“You’re a very clever woman, Princess Naran.”

“And you’re a terrible royal, Prince Hyungwon.” He frowned at first, but she smiled coyly. “I’ve never heard of a prince letting his princess set the pace on their wedding night.”

He watched his hands sail up her bare arms onto her shoulders as he said, “I did promise you that we could be different.”

“You did,” she murmured as those wonderfully dexterous fingers of his worked at the muscles along her collarbone.

Naran let her eyes drift shut as the subtle warmth of the prince’s strength spread through her. She felt heated from inside out, and it parted her lips for a series of soft sighs. Hyungwon’s hands flattened across the top of her chest, his thumbs dipping into the recesses at her collarbone as the tips of his fingers slipped under the edge of her gown. They traveled underneath her straps, and, gently, he slid them toward her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found her husband's exquisite face a hair’s breadth away from her own.

“Princess,” he said softer than the down in the pillow.

Naran’s throat ran dry, and she wet her lips.

Hyungwon dipped to close the last of the distance between them, but she pivoted her head on the pillow at the last second. His hands released her at once, and she shivered under the sheets.

“No kissing on the mouth,” she said.

“Why not?” he asked. It was a borderline whine.

“Kissing leads to feelings, and feelings lead to dependence.”

“But I’m a good kisser,” Hyungwon insisted, his eyelids heavy and his bottom lip parted so plump and inviting that Naran almost gave in, but she had to stand as rooted as a tree if she stood any hope of holding the prince to his premarital promise.

“Kiss your serving lasses then. This isn’t a romance, my lord; it’s an obligation, and while I don’t want us to dread it, I do want to keep our boundaries clear.”

He sighed but nodded.

At a stalemate now, neither seemed sure who should make the next move, but after thwarting his efforts, Naran decided it was her turn, especially since she was the one to impose the hard lines.

“For the throne,” she said, gouging that line unmistakably in granite.

“For the throne,” he echoed. With their understanding now clear between each other, Hyungwon leaned down before stopping once again. “If I can’t kiss your lips, can I at least touch you? It will help, you know…”

Naran nodded numbly, and the prince let out a long, shaky breath. His mouth descended to her neck instead, and at the first brush of his lips, her hands fisted the sheets. It was intense, the way his skin glossed against hers. At first, it was just gentle pecks, sweet and chaste without demand, but after a few of those, Hyungwon’s mouth parted, and the warm flick of his tongue teased a sharp gasp from her. It was nothing, though, to the way he sucked in a little taste of her—just lightly, just briefly—before he moved lower toward the arc where her neck met her shoulder.

Meanwhile, his hands roved along her form, tracing the length of her arm, cupping her neck and then her jaw, or tangling in her loose hair, his nails scraping along her scalp in a way that showered sparks throughout her chest.

“Please, my lady, touch me just a little, too,” he begged.

Why did he have to ask such a thing like that? It made her even more lightheaded and careless than the alcohol.

Naran let her hands wander without thought, and the second they curled around him—one between his massive shoulder blades and the other on the back of his head, Hyungwon collapsed against her, kissing more fervently and knocking the breath right out of her. With no space left between them, it was impossible to ignore his hardness strengthening along the meat of her thigh.

She was losing control far too fast and responding to this veritable stranger far too much. Naran needed to find some footing quickly before she was swept away or she would be at the prince’s mercy forever, and that was the last thing in the world she wanted to happen.

Suddenly, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed up. Hyungwon sat back immediately, his eyes wide and black and his lips swollen.

“What?” he stammered.

Naran sat up, too, and stamped down the tremors she felt in her limbs. She kept the line of her mouth as firm as her eyes as she said, “Your turn, my lord. Lie on your back.”

The prince looked at her questioningly, but with a nudge of her chin, he complied. It was quite a sight, looking down on such a handsome, desperate man with his black hair tousled and his tan skin flushed. His broad chest heaved with his deep, expectant panting while he watched her with hooded eyes. Hyungwon wore only a billowing night shirt, so his thin, bare legs stretched to the very end of the ample bed. Toward the hem of his shirt, there was an unmistakable tent that fueled the heat between Naran’s legs to unbearable degrees.

She straddled his legs, and the heady scent of arousal flooded their den. Hyungwon swallowed loudly.

“It is expected that I’m on top,” he insisted, though there was no bite to his words, only a current of trembling excitement.

“Sire, didn’t you just get through telling me this whole marriage is predicated on us not following others’ expectations? Now, let me have my way. Besides,” Naran said with a cocky smirk, “I promise a lazy prince like you will like it.”

Her husband loosely held her waist then, keeping her hovering just above his thighs much to her growing frustration.

“I can feel—” Hyungwon stuttered. “Ah, I can feel your heat from here.”

“Against all reason, my lord, my body demands you,” she admitted sheepishly.

Slowly, Naran’s fingers glazed his mid-thigh, where his shirt rested, and at the brush of her fingertips against the muscle there, they both jolted. Hyungwon let out a shaky breath. A little higher, she trekked, her nails tickling enough that it left him visibly twitching. Her thumb brushed against his covered length, and she sucked in a sharp breath while a groan spilled up from the pit of his stomach.

When he came down from the sensation, the prince met her gaze. He licked his bottom lip before he said, “Do you feel how my body responds to you, too?”

Naran nodded absent-mindedly. Her attention was far too consumed with the tantalizing secret beneath his shirt, and gently, she pushed it up.

Despite her few dalliances, the princess had never seen a man’s sex up close. Her trysts had been short-lived and ill-lit, and even though the light was soft here, too, Hyungwon was in perfect focus. His manhood strained in all its glory, tall and proud and wet at its tip. Thanks to his intense hardness, each ridge was defined and underscored by a long, pulsing vein.

Naran didn’t even realize she’d been gnawing on her lip until her skin began to shred.

“I’m getting a little embarrassed here, Princess,” Hyungwon grumbled under her scrutiny, and she blinked hard to shed her hypnosis.

Her fingertips wavered, but at last, she indulged in her first skim along her husband’s length. The prince sucked in a breath, his massive wingspan arching off the bed, while Naran marveled at how soft skin could feel over something so rigid. It was like satin draped over marble.

“Give me more,” he begged.

Hyungwon’s eyes were shut, as though he couldn’t handle more than one sense at a time, or perhaps he only wanted to indulge in one. Either way, pride or not, Naran didn’t feel like playing shy any longer. She was beyond keyed up, her sex now throbbing insistently for attention. Whatever else came tomorrow, tonight, nature demanded satisfaction.

She wrapped her hand around his base to position him as she needed. Hyungwon uttered something dark in Goryeon, and though she had no idea what it meant, the ragged throat clear on the other side of the curtain told her it was something never said in a palace.

Naran knew if she wanted to maintain the boundaries she spoke of, she should get this over with, but it was impossible to be reasonable when she wanted something so ardently.

Pushing up onto her knees, she hiked up her nightgown to the top of her thighs. Hyungwon sat up on his elbows, eyes straining to the shadows beneath the fabric, but his view was veiled, and he crashed back onto the pillow with a frustrated groan and another curse she didn’t understand.

Instead, Naran dragged his swollen, leaking head along her seam as much to prepare him to enter her as it was to savor the little fireworks of pleasure that ignited within her at every swipe, but abruptly, he stilled her wrist.

“You have to stop,” he ordered. “I can't— It's— If you don't put it inside you right now, Princess, it will all be wasted!”

Naran was stunned. She hadn’t thought twice about teasing him since Hyungwon was known around the realms to be a man of experience, but it was hard to form words when she knew he was losing control because of her.

With a simple yes, she angled up her tight entrance, nestled his tip just inside it, and after a deep breath, Naran sank to his hilt.

It had been too long since she had bedded anyone, but it wouldn’t matter if it had only been yesterday. Prince Hyungwon was different.

The stretch was otherworldly. The depth was mind-emptying. The heat was exhilarating. Together, their eyes slammed shut against the sensory overload.

“Do not move,” he warned, his hands fastened like vices on her waist.

His head lolled on the pillow, his brow scrunched and a snarl on his lips, as he calmed down. Eventually, his grip loosened enough that his hands slid to her covered thighs and kneaded them slowly. When he opened his eyes, Hyungwon found his wife looking back.

“Does it hurt, my lady?”

Naran smiled and folded down toward his ears, her breasts flattening against his chest under the thin chemise. Lips to his ear, she whispered, “It did the first time.”

“I’m—” Hyungwon glanced toward the curtains that surrounded the bed and lowered his voice even further. “I’m not your first?”

“Nor the second, so don’t worry on that account.”

He was frozen in shock, and Naran had to take pity on him. She imagined that was rarely talked about in a court, if ever, and certainly not when it came to halo-wearing princesses.

She curled down his body a bit further, shifting him inside her, and both of them let out chaste little groans, enough to no doubt perk the ears of their observers but, more importantly, each other. Naran pressed a kiss to her prince’s throat, but he was still too surprised to move.

“Come now, my prince. I know I’m not your first either. We can be free with each other. After all, we’re in this together. If we have to do this, let us have a little fun.”

Hyungwon’s ears were crimson along with his cheeks, and combined with his swollen lips and sweaty throat, it was truly a sight to behold. For once, he could not look at her.

“I thought—” he spluttered.

“You thought what?”

“I thought it wasn’t necessary for the lady to have fun in order to make a child.”

Naran almost laughed, but he was struggling enough with the shift in power, and she liked the feeling of how hard his length was inside her. She didn’t want to trouble his mind any further.

“It’s not, my prince, but it’s also not very fair that you would get all the pleasure and I nothing, is it?”

“I never wanted that. I just— I thought you might want this to be over as soon as possible,” he confessed. “I didn’t want to help myself to more of you than you would allow.”

Naran might have been having a little fun at the prince’s expense, but something about his consideration for her brought a seriousness to the moment that surprised her. Her body’s reaction surprised her even further as her walls constricted. Hyungwon bit his lip to fight back a moan while his nails scratched at the meat of her hips, which only made her that much tighter for him. She needed to regain her control quickly before this became about something more than sex.

“I’ll allow it, my lord.”

The prince looked up at her with eyes so full of reverence, or maybe it was gratitude, that her mouth went dry.

Naran busied her fingers at the collar of his undershirt, toying with the loose strings there because it was much safer to shift her attention to anything other than his gaze. Softly, she asked, “Do you know how to make a woman feel good?”

His eyes widened and then narrowed. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mm.”

“I don’t take those lightly, princess,” Hyungwon said, his voice perilously gruff. Even the way he’d said her title had changed from respectful to something decidedly more intimate. An unexpected gauntlet had been thrown down, one that even a lazy prince such as himself could hardly refuse.

At his warning, goosebumps peppered her arms, and when he noticed, his hands switched from her waist and soothed them from wrist to shoulder. Naran had never paid in-depth attention to Hyungwon’s hands before, but watching the way his incredibly long fingers splayed over her skin made her feel very, very funny.

“You’re shaking,” he observed, and his hands pressed more reassuringly into her muscles. “Are you nervous?”

“That’s not it…”

Their eyes met. Hyungwon sat up suddenly and wrapped his arms around her back for support, and Naran could feel every fingertip desperate to possess as much of her as his huge hands could manage. She gasped, and, with the spell broken, the prince placed kisses along the column of her neck down to her shoulder, where his fingers unhooked the clasps on her underdress down to her waist. Hesitantly, he parted the bodice and exposed her soft breasts to the increasingly warm bedroom sanctum.

“Wow,” murmured the prince as he leaned back to take in her body. “You are incredibly beautiful. I’ve never…”

Hyungwon trailed off as his hands wandered over her sun-worshipped flesh. The skin there was already attentive and sensitive, but with each touch, the ache in her nipples increased. At last, his glorious mouth closed around the first bud and suckled with lewd appreciation for their pertness.

It was true Naran was experienced in many ways of pleasure-seeking, but something about the way Hyungwon adored her breasts made it feel like the first time. She arched into his mouth, and his hand was quick to slither around her and press her further and deeper into him.

He devoured her deliberately, a little here, a little there, while her body held his manhood warm and safe. Through the red haze of pleasure, she felt him stir inside her as he grew hungrier, and the more his tongue chased that need, the more anxious the rest of his body became. His hips struggled in vain beneath her, but Naran held him in place. Hyungwon’s breaths became shorter and more ragged as his frustration mounted.

“They’ll grow impatient, my lady,” he hissed with an eye toward the curtains.

“Then they can leave,” she retorted.

“I’m impatient.”

At this, Naran raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that is another matter, sire. Finish what you started then.”

With a sigh of relief, Hyungwon hooked a finger beneath the strap of his wife’s dressing gown and slipped it down her arm. He repeated his motions on the other strap, leaving the dress helpless against gravity. The garment puddled at their hips, and were it not for the thick drapes encasing them, the princess would have been exposed to all eyes in the room. The thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

“You’re getting louder,” said the prince. “You enjoy this, don’t you—the audience?”

Drunk on ecstasy and the prince’s unfiltered attention, Naran’s lips were far too loose. “Mm, yes. I want them to go back to their rooms hard and deeply unsatisfied.”

Hyungwon moaned roughly, heedless of the unseen company. “I’ll bet they wish they were in here instead. But they’re not. They can’t be.”

Suddenly, his hands latched onto his wife’s shoulders and forced her deeper down onto his manhood. Naran’s head tipped back and let out a yelp of surprise followed by a whimper of pleasure.

“I’m the one inside you,” Hyungwon asserted right beside her ear.

The princess burrowed her forehead into his collar and rocked in his lap, her knees tight to his side. It was impossible not to quiver when he held her this close.

“I felt that,” the prince said through heavy panting, “the way you squeezed me. You feel incredible, princess.”

Naran rose up a little higher this time and sank back down firmly, and they both moaned. “I do?”

“Better than anything I’ve ever felt.”

Her walls tightened again at his praise, and she rocked a little harder against him. Their sexes met in a wet grind, each sweep of her hips adding friction to her most sensitive places, but as good as that felt, she wanted more. Besides, his embrace was suffocating.

Naran placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed Hyungwon back to the mattress. His head hit the pillow, and when he looked up at his wife, he looked intoxicated by her. There it was again, that dopey smile paired with a slow blink and flushed cheeks. He was too beautiful this way, and the princess had to look away.

She shifted her attention instead to her knees and focused on building a rhythm of rising up and down on his length. At her first full stroke from tip to base, Hyungwon grunted followed by something that almost sounded like a whimper.

“My lady…” he cooed.

The prince’s hands sailed up her figure to her breasts, adoring them with gentle brushes and playful tweaks of her nipples before moving to her waist to help her rise and fall on his manhood.

“You’re right,” he said, “I am enjoying this.”

“I can tell, sire.” Naran drew a hand over her belly, pressing back against the incredible hardness that was splitting her wide open. Her head lolled back as a sigh bubbled up. “So hard…”

But as good as he felt, the longer she rode him, her thighs began to burn and her pace fell away. She didn’t want to sacrifice her control, but she wanted faster and harder, and her well had been so tapped from the day, that she knew she couldn’t make it.

Hyungwon read her easily or perhaps he just needed the same, so his grip on her waist seized her in place mid-air. When Naran looked back at him, gone was the patient prince with the soft eyes, replaced instead with a man of dark needs who was hell-bent on having them satisfied.

“My turn,” he said, and a second later, his hips thrust up from the bed to drive his member into her at breakneck speed.

Naran was unprepared for the overabundance of stimulation that came with this new momentum. Her head tipped back and her mouth opened, but nothing came out but frantic breaths.

Unlike her, her husband showed no signs of slowing down. His grip on her was bruising as his pistoning became more emphatic. A fire was building quickly in her walls as an overwhelming sensation took hold of her.

She was going to scream.

She could feel it in her throat the way the lid on a boiling pot chattered. The pleasure was too intense, and she gripped his hips hard to stop him because something about letting go felt like giving in, and she was terrified of just the thought.

“Wait! Wait!” she demanded in the tatters of a whisper. “Just give me a second.”

Sweat dripped from Hyungwon’s brow and along the curve of his jaw. His eyes were frenzied and his lips tight, but he nodded. “Just let me know when I can move again.”

The desperation in his voice broke her, and even though Naran had chased away the pressure in her hips, his hunger for her body threatened to set her back on the precipice instantly.

“Go, go,” she urged.

Hyungwon took her at top pace immediately, and even though she had stopped herself from an obscene scream, the wetness between her legs announced her depravity to every invisible pair of ears beyond the curtains. Her chest reddened and her eyes winched tight, and as her husband barreled into her, she choked back the urge to call his name.

“I can’t hold back any longer,” the prince said through gritted teeth.

“Give it to me,” Naran begged, and he did.

A foreign warmth flooded her core with a chaser that felt strangely like drunkenness. She teetered on his hips, ready to pull off, but Hyungwon pulled her against his chest and used her imbalance to push up with one leg and roll them over. Naran blinked up with clouded eyes at the sweaty face of her husband.

“You can—”

Hyungwon shook his head. “I should probably stay just a little bit longer, you know, to… encourage our efforts to take?”

The princess nodded dumbly. With what was left of her senses, she ordered her hands to stay on the bed instead of wrap around the prince’s back like they seemed determined to do.

“I’m not crushing you, am I?” he asked.

Hyungwon's chest flattened to hers, and part of Naran wished his bare skin could kiss hers back because somehow, despite how gentle and accommodating he’d been all night, she still felt used. Something scratched at the back of her mind that maybe that wasn’t exactly it, but it was safer to lean into that interpretation, so she did.

“It’s fine,” she said.

A shiver tore through the prince, and before she could stop her gut reaction, her arms hugged him. A smile bloomed on his face. Naran dropped her hands back to the mattress and rolled her head, red-faced, away from him.

“Sorry,” said Hyungwon. “Just a little chill.”

She mumbled her indifference even though a shiver of her own threatened to overtake her, but a twitch of his length inside her distracted her instead. A little moan escaped her lips, and she could feel Hyungwon’s eyes burning into her profile, so she closed her own to avoid it.

“Are you okay?” he asked now. His voice remained in its raspy whisper, and Naran could feel his breath on her neck. Her body was still balking at her for running from its desired release, and again, her walls contracted around him. He shifted inside her, burrowing just a little deeper at her core’s insistence, and she knew she had to put some distance between them before she couldn’t.

“Getting a little hot,” she replied, which seemed like a fair enough answer considering how suffocated she was by his looming presence and how blatantly needy she still was.

There was no disguising the flat disappointment in the prince’s voice as he acknowledged her words. Before he pulled out, he gave one subtle rut of his hips into hers, as if willing as much of his seed to stay inside her as possible, though when, at last, they separated, it rushed out filthy and insistent. Naran grabbed a blanket for modesty and rolled onto her side, squeezing her thighs shut and blotting their mess into an indecent exclamation.

“I’ll be right back,” Hyungwon added as he donned a robe.

A sudden gust of fresh, cool air swirled about the stuffy space as the prince parted the curtains just wide enough to slip his head through. Naran caught a glimpse of one of the witnesses through the crack. He was a short, middle-aged man with small eyes made smaller by heavy lids. The servant did not look at the prince as Hyungwon said through still-rickety breaths, “It is done. You may go.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” said the attendant with suspiciously tremulous breath, “but I must wait the customary hour.”

“You may wait it outside then. I will remain here.”

“Oh?” the other man said, shocked, before he remembered his decorum. The servant tried to keep his rigid posture, but the unexpected conflict made him waver. “I am under the Emperor’s orders, Your Highness.”

“We will say nothing on this matter, Seojun. The other side of the door is no different to you than if you stayed put, but it makes a great deal of difference to my wife, so please do as I ask.”

He and the other servant slipped through the door with flushed cheeks, leaving the couple alone on the bed.

Hyungwon flopped back onto the mattress. “Sorry about that. I shall have Hansol talk to the staff about manners.”

“It’s fine,” Naran said with a little laugh, but as she shifted, it morphed into a cringe at the stickiness coating her thighs. “I know I must lay here a bit in hopes that things will take, but could you fetch me a cloth so I’m more comfortable?”

Hyungwon slipped into his robe and then disappeared through the bed curtains before he returned with a damp rag from the wash basin. Instead of handing it to her, he eased her legs apart and mopped along the inside of her thighs. Fear of judgment at being seen so naked and so filthy faded as the coolness of the water brought soothing relief.

“Is that all right?” he asked.

“More than,” Naran assured. “That’s never happened before, having a man finish inside me. It’s very new.”

Hyungwon nodded, though it was accompanied by a funny knit to his brow that she couldn’t read. “I’m sorry if it’s unpleasant.”

She stared into her husband’s dark eyes since she was not allowed to move from her back for the next hour. “No, it’s— I liked it.”

The prince let out a shaky breath. “Is it—is it okay if I admit I liked everything about what we just did?”

“I liked it, too,” she said quietly.

Her stomach tightened a notch until Naran almost felt nauseous.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” she suggested. It was true, but the moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she hadn’t said them.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“You may stay if you wish.”

The cloth was still against her thigh, and his thumb pressed noticeably but perhaps accidentally against her folds. Hyungwon narrowed those beautiful eyes as he studied her. “Do you want me to leave?”

Naran was definitely queasy now. She shook her head a little and turned her attention back to the canopy. “No, my prince.”

“Mm,” he said throatily.

Maybe that thumb wasn’t so accidental after all. It traveled up the part in her folds before Hyungwon withdrew the cloth and rolled back over to stare at the ceiling, too.

“I should have asked earlier, but how are you feeling about today?”

“I’m not sure I know.”

Hyungwon didn’t move. He stared unblinking for a while before he collected enough of his thoughts to ask, “Was the ceremony bad?”

“Just… not something I ever pictured for myself. Not bad though. I’ll just have to get used to it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Naran was not supposed to move, but the shock of the prince’s words twisted her onto her elbow to study him. “Sorry for what?”

“I wish I could go back and undo things.”

“To what end, my lord? I know I already told you I would never forgive you, but also, I would have had my freedom only so long as it took your father to invade my country.”

Hyungwon sighed. “Still, I’m sorry. I regret it.”

Naran couldn’t even kid herself—that stung her pride. She sagged back into the mattress, her hands squeezing the soft swells of her stomach.

“I regretted it the moment I saw you on the terrace this morning. You were so stunning, and I thought, ‘I’ve taken her from every man forever.’”

But he didn’t sound sad or sorry anymore. He sounded pleased.

Naran wanted to remind him of their pact to not interfere in each other’s affairs, but lying next to him in their matrimonial bed after an admittedly pleasurable encounter, it felt unnecessary. She didn’t mind if, for now, he wanted to feel like a victor reveling in his spoils. Looking over at his gentle smile gilded by candlelight, Naran felt rather spoiled, too. With her pride intact, she gazed at the canopy and let herself sink into the heaviness of exertion and the warm, swimming feeling of pleasure.

[demented-tours]

The project is simple: Dear World Rage Emotion Box. One photo, one text dump. Raw thoughts. Minimum editing. Fuck typos. Fuck perfection. No masking/curbing/appeasing. No apologies. I don't care how this sounds. Not sure why it needs to be public. I do know why this needs to be public, but maybe it always won't. Maybe I delete these ten seconds after I post them. Maybe I print them out and make fucking wallpaper. Not creating yet another account for this, either. I've officially forgotten too many versions of myself to add another.

///

Dear World 2,

You don't have to save them.

They probably don't even want to be saved.

Fact is, one of the most devastating results of abuse, neglect, and trauma is that long after it's over, you still want to become the person you thought they wished you could be. Because if you could be that person, then it would stop. They would care. They would love you.

They would understand.

But it's bullshit. The nature of abusers--no matter how deliberate or benign or oblivious or well-meaning--is that they don't care about YOU. They don't care about themselves, either.

They care about what they WANT. And what they want is a mercurial, ever-shifting target that has to do with getting back whatever they thought was taken from them. Usually by force. Typically by people just like them. However deliberately or benignly or obliviously or well-meaning.

Abuse isn't about you.

It's about them.

Which means that the person you're trying to become? The thing you most want to be? They didn't want that, either.

They didn't want you smarter, braver, less gay, more independent, less troublesome, invisible, smaller, bruised, or broken.

You weren't a person; you were a means to an end. Even if it was just for those few moments where they thought of themselves, first, instead of you.

Abuse doesn't have to take years. It can take seconds. It's a flaw of human nature that we can inflict life-altering damage with the turn of a cruel eyebrow. A harsh look. One sentence. One word.

Wrong.

No.

Shame.

Bad.

Quiet.

Stop.

Useless.

Fat.

Skinny.

Ugly.

Dumb.

Inconsequential.

It's abuse if they don't say sorry. It's abuse if they didn't know how wrong they were. It's abuse if they turned the other way. It's abuse if they let you cry and scream. It's abuse if they didn't. It's abuse if they treated you like you didn't matter one percent of the time. It's abuse if they hit you. Abuse if they didn't. Abuse if they forgot about you. Abuse if you wished they would. Abuse if it's twenty years later, they realize more than they ever have before, you talk, you let it go, and yet the feelings linger.

It's abuse if they leave you feeling like you were never going to be enough unless you became the thing you thought they wanted.

They don't know what they want. The thing they crave is power, safety, control, oblivion, silence, recognition, and to keep running and never get caught.

You can't let yourself become a product of wishful thinking.

There are one-thousand-and-one ways to apologize. All of them help balance the wrongs done. None of them erase what happened and none of them negate the feeling like you should have done more.

You can't save them.

I can't save her.

It was never my job. It was never meant to be my life purpose. I have to stop letting it put me on hold and through hell.

He did to me what was done to him and thought that words of warning would sway me to a path he never found.

She placed in me faith that could have been her own remaking.

One was dark. One was merely misguided. Both of them hurt.

This is me.

Putting that shit down.

/D

Photo: Weeds in grass. Hope springs eternal. Life finds a way. Nothing is ever useless or meaningless because everything is actually useless and meaningless. Life is not potential and purpose. It's what springs up where you don't expect it. Felt like freedom.

Also:

[delightindarkness]

@vvaywardhunter

Castiel stayed behind after a case with Sam and Dean. Sadly, not everyone had made it, and it was weighing on the angel's already heavy heart.

Cas hadn't been back long from Purgatory. Maybe three weeks. He loved the brothers….the Winchesters. He cared more for them than he did his own kin, but even their presence had been too much for him, or so he thought.

Over the years he'd spent with the boys, he'd developed a larger sense of free will, and a taste for a few human vices. Whiskey being one of them.

Staring into the glass before him, and the bottle he'd asked the bartender to leave with him, it made him think of the time he'd drank the entire stock of a liquor store when the seals were breaking and the apocalypse was nigh.

That was what…. five years ago now?

Time seemed to have flown. A part of him that already knew all the answers to their past wished he'd done things differently, but he supposed hindsight was twenty twenty, as the humans liked to say. It seemed to him that they were very right about a lot of things.

Taking his drink and tipping it up, he drained his glass before he went to pour another. His hand was partially outstretched toward the bottle when he paused, bristling.

He felt eyes watching him, and he wondered what creature; whether it be from heaven, hell, or earth, was after him now as his blue hues searched nearby faces until his gaze landed on Dean, and he visibly relaxed. He thought the boys had gone on without him. Then again, maybe he should have known better. Dean often knew Castiel better than he knew himself. Especially after what he'd admitted to Dean the other day, he should have known the last thing the hunter would have done was leave him alone.

The memory of his words clung to him like a second skin...

"I can't go back... " He'd breathed, his eyes cast toward the floor.

"Why?" It was a simple question from the older Winchester. "You think they'll kill you?"

His own answer was probably the most honest he'd ever been. "No, if I go back, and I see the destruction I caused.... Dean, I killed thousands of angels. If I see what I did, I'm afraid I'll kill myself."

A sigh left him as Dean saddled up to the bar next to him. "I figured you and Sam would be at least two states over by now," he muttered, his voice gruff, though he reached over the bar and snagged another low ball glass from a stack just a few feet away, and offered it to Dean.

@vvaywardhunter

[i-love-oliverwood]

EIGHT LETTERS || RON WEASLEY

NOT MY GIF

warnings- cursing maybe, nothing else

summary- reader has been hurt before and has a hard time saying those eight letters.

-your pov-

Ron and I laid in my dorm. His arms wrapped tightly around me and I snuggled into his chest. Our legs were basically intertwined, as he softly played with my hair. We were in silence but this was normal. Just two lovebirds enjoying each others company.

We have been together for about eight months. And I never could get sick of this boy. He makes me feel so good and happy. I've never felt this way about anyone before. The problem is, I've been hurt before and it took me awhile to even date Ron. But I feel we are in a good place. 

"You're so beautiful." He whispered.

My cheeks flushed red and I lightly hit his stomach, "Stop ittt."

He gulped, "I love you."

I froze. He's never said that before. I mean I think I do love Ron but I've been hurt before. Love is a scary thing and a scary word.

If all it is, is eight letters, why is it so hard to say?

He untangled himself from me and sat up due to my silence and stared at me for a while, "Merlin." He muttered to himself, "You don't feel the same."

"No, no." I shook my head, "It's not that." I grabbed onto his hands, "It's just a scary word that's all."

"But do you?" I raised an eyebrow.

I sighed. I can't say this again. I can't tell another boy I love him, just for him to rip my heart out. "I- I think we should give each other some space."

His face fell, "Are you serious?"

"I can't say it." I shook my head.

"All it is, is eight letters." He scoffed.

"Then why is it so hard to say?"

"If you can't even say it, then what are we doing, Y/n?"

Why am I in my own way?

"Ronnie..." I started but he cut me off.

"Save it." He stood up, "If you want space, you got it."

I jumped up, grabbing onto his wrist, "No, please."

"Why do you pull me close? Then ask me for space?"

"Listen to me..." I begged, "I've said those words before, but it was a lie. And you deserve to hear them a thousand times."

"Then tell me... tell me you love me. Because I've never felt this way about anyone. I close my eyes and it's you there in my mind. You've seen my worst, you've seen me hurt, but you don't judge. That right there is the scariest feeling."

"I know, I feel that way too. When your hand's in mine, it's like I'm whole again."

"Then tell me."

"Ron, you know me, I’ve been hurt, so I don't trust." I explained.

"All it is, is eight letters." He repeated, tucking some hair behind my ears, "I've never hurt you, and I never will. I'll be here for you always. You're brilliant. And I wish you could see that." He gave me a small smile and reached for the door of my dorm.

"Wait!" I called out. He turned around to face me again. I rushed up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I promised myself that I would never say those words again after I got my heart ripped out. But then I met you, and you make me feel these feelings again." My lips started to curl into a smile as happy tears filled my eyes, "I love you, Ronald Weasley. And I always will."

He laughed through a few happy tears. No one I know could make me as happy as this boy does. "I love you too, Y/n L/n."

He leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips. We rested our foreheads against each others while we held each other tightly. "You make these eight letters just a bit easier to say."

We both laughed, and kissed again.

[minimalist-language-learning]

Anki & Sentence Mining

I first came across the idea of sentence mining when I read a blog called AJATT (all japanese all the time). Maybe I don’t remember every detail, but the basic idea was to put sentences from your immersion content (books, games, online articles, … ) in a spaced repetition system like Anki for review.

These sentences should contain 1 unknown word or grammar point you want to learn. This way, you review words that are relevant to you (because they come from content you like) and by reviewing them in full sentences you’ll learn them in context (instead of learning single words in isolation).

(This is just a short summary in my own words. If you want to learn more about sentence mining you can find more information on AJATT but also on Refold. There are also lots of videos on YouTube.)

I liked the idea and was very motivated to try it out — several times.

I added sentences with one unknown word from content I've read. In the beginning I was very motivated. But somehow after a few weeks creating and reviewing cards felt more and more meaningless and tedious. I didn’t know where these feelings came from. I enjoyed reading books in Japanese, but somehow I didn’t enjoy reviewing sentences from these books in Anki.

Sentence mining sounds great in theory but after trying it out I came across some difficulties:

Reading on the computer makes card creation very easy thanks to Yomichan. But since most of my favorite reading material is physical Yomichan doesn’t help much. This makes copying sentences more time consuming.

I’m working full-time so my free time is very limited. Creating and reviewing cards takes time. Using sentence mining means in my case that there's much less time left for reading & listening.

I struggled to find good sentences that fulfill the conditions. Often sentences were long and contained more than one unknown word. And even when I’ve found a sentence with one unknown word it was not always a sentence that provided enough context. When you read words in the full context of a story, you have much more information that are connected to this word (situation, who is talking to whom, what happens before and after this sentence, ... ). That's why sometimes one sentence is not enough.

Reviewing cards felt meaningless after a while. I was not happy with the sentences I collected. Although they were from content I liked, I didn't enjoy reviewing them. Some of them didn't provided enough context. I also started to ask myself why I review these sentences. Some words come up often enough in the books I read so it’s not necessary to put them into Anki (natural SRS). Other words are rather rare or are only important in certain books so that it’s not a big deal to look them up when they come up once in awhile. That’s why I started to ask myself "Why using sentence mining at all?“.

Please don't get me wrong, I'm not against Anki or sentence mining. I just describe what I experienced. Anki does work, it's just that these feelings and doubts made it very difficult for me to use sentence mining longer than a few weeks.

After trying sentence mining several times I gave up. I wondered how some people are able to use sentence mining for several years and create and review thousands of cards during this time — while still reading and listening a lot to Japanese content.

Since then I mostly read extensively and look up words that seem important or come up several times. I don't review them seperately. I don’t have much time for Japanese but this way I enjoy every minute.

I still like the idea of sentence mining, though. I often think that my vocabulary would improve faster if I would use Anki. I really wish I would like using Anki as much as other people do. But for the reasons I described above I would really have to force myself. After a long working day, I don’t want to spend my little free time with something that drains my energy even more. :(

I really would like to find a way that makes it easier for me to use sentence mining over a long period of time but I have no idea how. I tried different ways of sentence mining in the past, but the result was always the same.

What do you think? Do you use sentence mining? Is there something I can do?

[morganali-writes]

Out of Reach

Despite the strained nature of their relationship, the household had never been so sombre than it was now that he was gone. Haurchefant had been better than all of them, and it had taken Artoirel far too long to appreciate that – appreciate the brother he wished he had accepted long ago, in spite of his mother’s wishes. Maybe still, his brother would have stepped in front of the bolt meant for the Warrior of Light, and maybe still he’d despair at words left unsaid – but for the chance to share words with him again all the same... but these were idle musings born of regret and helplessness.

Artoirel leaned his brow against the cold windowpane and exhaled in a huff. Ishgard was in a right state between the downfall of the late archbishop, and the revelation about the true origins of their thousand-year war. They had barely even begun to put the city-state back on its feet. Were it not for the Lord Commander’s tireless efforts to maintain order, he would scarce know where to begin.

Sighing again, Artoirel hauled himself upright and aimlessly followed the hallway towards the library. As he walked, he was brought out of his own musings by a plaintive voice. Curious, he drew closer, though hesitated at the threshold.

“Miette, please come down. Come now, sweetheart – I shall catch you.” There she stood, the Warrior of Light herself – far above her on the highest shelf, a black cat wailed pitifully. “I cannot fetch you by myself, Miette, please...” she all but begged, then hung her head with a loud sniff. Cursing quietly under her breath, she pushed a palm to her eye.

“Cessalie?” her name was across his lips before he could think better of it, and she startled as if guilty. He made his was over to her and she hurriedly wiped at her eyes. “That is to say – are you well?”

“Oh, quite well, never better!” she said, the forced smile she wore not reaching her eyes.

“Your furred companion seems to have gotten herself stuck,” said Artoirel, eyes flicking briefly to the stranded cat. Cessalie averted her gaze and grimaced.

“She has long had a dreadful habit of climbing higher than she can comfortably descend from herself,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Usually rescuing her is not terribly troublesome, but today...” Cessalie squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled a slow, shuddering breath. “I find she is out of my reach.” Looking between her and the cat, understanding dawned on him.

It was hardly the first time the cat had gotten stuck up on the high shelves – in truth, it was a near weekly occurrence. And for all those times Miette had found herself so far out of reach, it had been his brother who was ever on hand to mount a rescue. Many a time he had watched, bemused, as Cessalie had all but scrambled up his brother in a manner not unlike climbing a ladder. Theirs had been an easy camaraderie, and for the few months since the Warrior of Light and her comrades had been taken in as wards, house Fortemps was the liveliest it had ever been.

“Forgive me – I understand you were quite close to my brother.” Cessalie shook her head sadly, eyes downcast.

“He was—He was family,” she all but whispered, before glancing up at him, brows knit in concern. “I should be the one to be sorry, he is your brother, after all.”

“I—thank you. I regret that I was not closer to him.” She nodded sympathetically. Moments stretched between them as they cast about for words to say. After a while, Artoirel found his eyes drawn back to the cat, whose cries for help were growing more insistent. He cleared his throat.

“Perhaps I may be of assistance?” he asked tentatively. She looked up in genuine surprise.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you–“

“There is no imposition you could make that would trouble me.”

“I – thank you. You are kind to me.”

“Not at all. What would you have me do?” she looked thoughtful for a moment, then climbed up onto a low table.

“Kneel here, if you please.” Artoirel took a knee by the table, and she gingerly perched herself on his shoulder. Instinctively he brought his arm around her skirts to steady her, and she reached for his other hand for balance.

How is she so small? He wondered absently as she settled herself. That the same woman as had laid low a half-dozen Primals was now sitting upon his shoulder like a sparrow beggared belief.

“Is this alright?” she murmured, and he found himself squeezing her hand in reply.

“Perfectly so.” With a grunt, he hoisted himself upright again.

“Let us be about it then,” he said, walking them carefully back over to the shelf. It took some cajoling and manoeuvring to retrieve the wayward cat – Miette was decidedly unconvinced by Cessalie’s new assistant. Eventually, with Cessalie balancing precariously on one of his hands like a step, and his other bracing her from falling, she managed to lay hands on the cat directly – scooping her up in one practiced motion.

Tucking the cat into the crook of her neck with one hand, she reached for his shoulder for balance again as she eased herself back to a sitting position. Dainty fingers dragged momentarily against the skin of his neck as she righted herself, and he drew in a quiet, surprised breath. After a moment, he walked them back over to the low table, and she hopped down from his shoulder.

“Miette,” she said, directing her attention wholly on the troublesome kitten. “I have told you not to climb so high, you little menace.” The cat chirruped indignantly in response. “Many times I have told you, don’t argue.” More chirping came in response, and Cessalie butted her forehead against that of her furred companion. “Silly thing. You’ll never learn.”

Artoirel could not help the soft smile that crossed his face as he watched them. It was a side of Cessalie he had only observed from afar. There was a softness usually held fast beneath a calculated façade, though around his brother she had let her guard slip. Haurchefant’s congenial demeanour tended to bring that out in people. Would that he possessed the same talent for putting others at ease, but instead he wore solemnity like a shroud – for ever had he been burdened with the lofty expectations of their House.

Belatedly, he realised that Cessalie had been staring back at him. Startled, he blinked and averted his gaze from hers. Had she been blushing? He ought not to consider it. He heard her quietly clear her throat, and he looked to her once more – only to find that she had lifted the little, black cat up to his eyeline.

“Oh!” Miette meowed loudly in consternation.

“Miette would formally like to apologise for the trouble she has caused this evening, if you can find it in your heart to forgive her.” Artoirel huffed a surprised laugh.

“There is nothing to forgive, save the grief you’ve caused your mistress,” he said with a smile, leaning in for Miette’s inspection. She sniffed the air about his face for a few moments, then tentatively licked the tip of his nose. The rough texture of her tongue caused him to scrunch up his face, and he laughed again. “Very well Miette, you may have my forgiveness – but see that you are better behaved in future.”

Miette made a puzzled sounding chirp. Cessalie lowered her once more, tucking the cat against her chest. Artoirel reached down absently to gently scratch under Miette’s chin.

“Mrrp!” the cat’s eyes closed in contentment. Not taking her eyes away from Miette, Cessalie smiled.

“Oh, I think you’ve quite won her over,” she said. He smiled at that.

“Glad I am to hear it.” The moments stretched in silence. He took a breath.

“I should… I have some matters that I must attend to,” he murmured, excusing himself. “But should you again require assistance, please do not hesitate to seek me.”

She looked up at him with her solemn, black eyes. She was silent for a moment, brow knit with some inscrutable expression. A small smile stole across her lips, and she nodded.

“Thank you, Artoirel. I will,” she said.

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

I Had A Moment

Dear Future Husband,

I've had a lot I've wanted to post here over the last few months but it's been too much, really, and a lot of the things I've wanted to say would come out sounding completely insensitive and that just wouldn't be appropriate for what everyone has been struggling with. I'm also slow at processing things properly, which I think I've made kind of clear in this blog in the past.

Regardless, I'll reiterate: I'm often too pragmatic, honestly to a fault.

Everything about the way I think and feel (or don't feel) is a direct symptom of the way I was raised, regardless of how in denial my parents are of the way they raised us.

I've been sleeping worse than normal for the last three months (it's literally 10:20am right now as I'm starting to write this and I still haven't slept since yesterday and I only slept about 3-4 hours yesterday, so you can probably see where this is going....) and I'm too tired to really explain myself thoroughly here right now, but I thought I should share this.

Since the war started in October I haven't felt much about it.

This is the whole insensitive thing I was talking about....

I'm a half a world away dealing with so many other things and b"H all the people I know in Israel are as safe as they can be during this insanity, so it's hard to relate to anything that's going on over there.

I've also never been much of an emotional person, so I've seen a lot of the footage and pictures and haven't had much of a reaction. Which is ridiculous, I know, and maybe one day when I'm not falling on my face I'll take time to go more in depth on what I mean, but today is not that day.

Anywho, when I was in Seminary in Israel a whole 15+ years ago, I started reciting the entire sefer tehillem during the week of Chanukah.

That lasted maybe four or five years, but I'm so slow at reading Hebrew that I would always procrastinate the days perakim and end up off schedule and it was too much pressure on myself to do something that nobody told me I had to do. So at some point I just stopped doing it.

But another "tradition" I started at the same time was doing a content "diet" and cutting out all non-kosher movies, tv, music, and books (except for bathroom reading) for the entire week of Chanukah. That is something I still do pretty much every year.

So during the rest of the year I listen to the radio or my non-Jewish music with the blutooth in my car, but during Chanukah it's only Jewish music.

Last Thursday night, the 8th night of Chanukah, I was listening to music in my car on the way to the supermarket to buy some things for Shabbos and the song L'man Achai by The Chevra came on.

I listened to it once, not having heard it in a long time, and sang along with it. The next song came on, but my mind was still on L'man Achai, so I put it on again, harmonizing with it. And then it sunk in as an earworm and I played it again.

And I had a moment.

It was on this third play that I actually listened to the words of the song. It's from two separate perakim of tehillem.

Leman achai v're'ai adabra na shalom bach Leman bes Hashem Elokeinu avaksha tov lach Hashem oz l'amo yiten, Hashem yivarech as amo ba'shalom

The first part is from Perek 122:

And the second is from Perek 29:

My translation skills aren't that good (hence the screenshots), so I was sitting in my car trying to suss out what exactly I was saying in the first part, but when I got to the second, I got completely choked up. Words just wouldn't come out right and tears did spring to my eyes. Although the tears didn't spill over, the knot in my throat took a while to dissipate and I stopped singing along with the song. All I could think about was how many people in Israel are wishing for peace and strength, and how many have picked themselves up after such a tragedy and are moving forward, not letting this keep them down at all.

And I thought about every galus we've been in. Every massacre of Jews for thousands of years because of feuds that run so deep in our history that even when they've been resolved by the people who started them, their children still carry that hatred in their hearts because they've been taught it's important, even when it's not their fight.

And the sarcastic and angry part of me was saying "Hashem gives us strength? He blesses us with peace? WHAT peace? WHAT strength???"

But the rest of me just felt the brokenness of it all.

I ended up playing the song several more times in a row, getting my voice back enough to yell out the lyrics, hoping if I could say them loud enough they'd permeate my soul and maybe I would feel something more than just that momentary strangle. That maybe just putting the words out into the world would be enough.

So after three months of playing the part of "it's so terrible, it's so sad" but not really feeling those emotions, something in my brain finally clicked. And I had that moment.

It's been a week and I've had the song on repeat in my head since then. It doesn't have the same impact on me as it did last Thursday in the car, but I keep thinking about it.

It's like the earworm of the century has burrowed into my brain and no matter what I do to distract myself the tune is always on the periphery of my thoughts.

Not that this whole situation hasn't been far from my mind every day anyway.... but now I have a small and constant reminder that I can have human feelings on occasion. It just sometimes takes three months for that moment.

-LivelyHeart

[azure-buttercups]

the confession

Sup bitches! Guess who made a confession fic for Arcane egg, Golden butter, and Shadow milk. Me! First things first @revisitingfandoms helped me come up with the gifts, but also write the letters! Check them out!

Anyways tell me what you think of the fic!

—————————————————————————————-

He sits at a desk within a well ferbished room decorated in a variety of blues, purples, magentas, and some cyans. Within his vice tight grip is a letter, the packaging is tossed aside and now sits next to a mechanical flower. The flower shifts from a inky yet iridescent black to various shades of blue on each of the petals. The stem is a shining light silver that glints within the light, both petals and stem hold an intricate design of swirls and eyes. The most curious thing about the flower though is the soft music emminating from it. Its a playful tune, one might here this type of song playing at a carnival or maybe theater.

Shadow milk cookie keeps rereading the letter, over and over his eyes linger on each word. The familiar sent of sweet sugars and of metal almost overwhelm him more than the actual words. He can’t believe, he just can’t. Arcane sent him a confession letter, and such a sincere one to! They might say they were no good with words, but this makes his heart beat incredibly fast. It’s such a simple letter but that may be why it���s so effective, in its simple nature it’s incredibly sincere and heartfelt.

It reads…

(Dear Moonie,

It's been a long run between us, huh? So many years between us, from the old days on my island and your tower to where we are today. I missed you for so many years when you were taken. I can’t count the amount I would just sit back and wish that you were here by my side. I remember wanting at one point wanting to just summon you to tell me what happened and yet- I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Anytime I thought about it- I’d look back on the false letter the witches sent thinking that this was what you wanted.

I betrayed my emotions hundreds of times- always thinking ‘he wanted to be alone, this what he wants’. Part of me can only look back at how foolish I was. Did I not know you for hundreds of years? Did I not visit and learn beside you for decades? Perhaps it was my assumption and belief of you being under the influence of the corruption. I only realize now that was something that doomed me in the end.

Moonie Shadow Milk, I have come to realize one thing. I cannot hide the pains I’ve gained over the years, I should not hide my pains because in the hide they will only come back to hurt myself and those who care for me.  

Shadow Milk, I did not tell you everything that day. I left a few secrets to myself and I tell you now because I cannot bring myself to say it in person.

Shadow Milk Cookie, I love you. It's a realization that hasn’t come to me easily, much less immediately.

I realized only after you were sealed. Perhaps that's what originally broke my heart- I remember Golden Butter telling me about the kiss you shared between her and you. Part of me had resigned to never holding your heart- until you told me those words that day. I won’t hesitate here and now. Shadow Milk I love you. 

Yours truly, 

Sunny.)

His eyes keep going back to the words “I love you”, he feels just a little light headed and his face can’t help but deepen in color. He forces himself to put down the letter and tenderly picks up the mechanical gift, he holds it like it’s the most valuable thing he owns and would ever own. As the soft music plays his mind wonders back to letter, has his dear Sunny really felt this way for that long. For thousands of years, even though he and the rest were sealed? Even though they thought his heart belonged to another… even when the two people she liked we’re interested in each other and not her. 

That sounds like torture! Complete and other torture! Shadow milk grips his hair tightly with one hand, the other still holds the precious flower. He quickly hops out of his chair which almost knocks it over, and begins to rapidly pace back and forth in the room. Holding those types of feelings with that intensity within yourself for that long! That sounds awful! So very awful! How, why did she do that to herself! Not even confessing to just get those feelings out, but instead keeping them buried! Why he ask’s himself… he knows why, or at least her their reasoning why. 

She thought that if she did confess her feelings that they wouldn’t only not be reciprocated, but she thought she’d loose both oh her closest friends. Which offends him, it offends him greatly! Do they think so little of their friendship that they think he’d just leave, he’s their blinding BEST-FRIEND! And another thing! They were just gonna let themselves suffer, which is unacceptable! He can’t help it when he stamps his foot on the ground in frustration. 

That big depressed dumb dumb! Well he won’t stand for it, he needs to find Golden butter and talk to her about her feelings. Because of the mention of her in his letter Arcane must’ve sent her one to! He quickly bounds towards the door and flings it open with haste. Those who are tempted to stop him to ask questions on the reconstruction of the Blueberry academy quickly decided against it, for he had an intense look in his eyes. As if he were a predator on the hunt, they feel bad for whoever earned his ire.

….Indeed. Poor Arcane egg cookie, poor Arcane egg cookie  indeed.

Luckily for Shadow milk cookie Golden butter cookie is in the same kind of predicament he was in. Golden butter recently decided to take a break from her travels, as a result she’s in her toy box relaxing in her room… well she was relaxing. Right now she was sitting on the edge of her bed with a letter in a tight grip, with wide eyes scanning the letter. For her usual easy expression with minimal reactions is now very, very expressive. 

The letter that’s gotten such a reaction reads…

(Dear Starlight,

A Lot has happened over these thousands of years and there's quite a bit I feel I should say. The question is how I put it into words.

For the longest time I’ve had feelings for Shadow Milk and yet- You loved him. Back then I was more than content to let you two be with each other even at my own expense. You two made each so happy and I couldn’t…

I couldn’t bring myself to ruin that. Yet over time something inside me grew- I didn’t realize it right away.

It was only after you were asleep that I realized I was in love with you. I remember silently cursing fate, I remember more than expecting for my own heart to break once again. 

Yet in the aftermath of everything, I want to defy that so-called fate I thought of- I want to chance this, I want to so badly.

Starlight I am in love with you, I am so very much in love with you and shadow Milk- more than anything. 

Sincerely yours,

Sunny)

As Golden butter nervously twirls a strand of her golden hair, to her side on her bedside table a small mechanical flower can be seen. The flowers petals are various shades of yellow that fade to white tips, the stem is a darker gold-brass that’s cool to the touch. It’s center is a brown metallic button, the most spectacular thing about it though is when it’s in light. For when that happens the white tips of the petals refract the light creating a soft multicolor iridescent light. It seems Arcane is truly after the artists heart.

And it seems Arcane may have seized it, for Golden butter pulls the letter to her chest as if it were one of her precious dolls. A faint blush can be seen on her face as she can’t help but let out a small giddy giggle as she kicks her feet slightly. After a long moment as she collects her emotions she grabs the metal flower, she can now hear a faint melody playing. It’s as soothing as a lullaby, and so Golden puts the flower in her beret. It’s a perfect match!

When she first read the confession she was so sure she saw Arcane as only a close friend, but afterwards she can’t be sure that’s true anymore. For her heart started to beat oh so fast after the simple words “I love you”. After the realization Golden can’t help but giggle slightly, for if she said that to Arcane they would’ve teased “ Damn. Cant believe historians will remember us as the closest of friends~.”

For as quiet as they may be, they are quite lively, witty even. That’s probably one of the reasons why her and Shadow milk got along so well… as yes Shadow milk. They liked Shadow milk, oh god she confessed her feelings about Shadow milk to them. Is that- is that why they seemed slightly off? No wonder, of course they would be slightly different after that! You confessed to not only liking their crush, but you were also one of their crushes.

As Golden butters thoughts continue to run wild at that realization a soft ping could be heard. She sits still for a moment before searching for her communication device, Arcane made one for all of them do they can stay in touch. When she finally finds it another ping rings out, she quickly answers.

“U-um yes? How may I help you-“

“Hey Goldie! Did you happen to say- get a well worded confession from our dear Sunny!” While his voice might hold a lively conviction to it, his actual mood seems to be intense. Maybe slightly irritated?

“Oh yes I did, why are you asking-“

“Great, now I need you to be as plain as possible, mkay? Do you have feelings for Sunny.” He… was being uncharacteristically serious.

“I-… yes. Yes I do… do you?”

“Of course I do, just as much as I love you.” That admittance of feeling makes Golden’s heart beat and stutter. “So…”

“Sooo..?”

“Cmon now Goldie! If we both like them, we like each other, and they like us both why not take a chance!! Or is the doll maker to afraid to loose control, hmm~” for as much as she wanted to snap back at him, he was right in a sense…even if he was being a slight jerk about it. She was always withdrawn allowing herself to drown in her doubt, to never believe and take a chance.

“Yeah… ok I’m willing to give it a try.” She said firmly, resolute in her actions.

“Good~! Now I’m on my way to pick you up because we have a very silly, and I mean silly silly egg to cheer up!”

“Cheer up? Last time I checked they were doing much better. Why did something happen??”

“Not quite my dear, while it is true that she’s gotten better. We both know her, we know how much of a nervous mess they get when dealing with uncertainties. Especially when it’s stuff, or in this case people she cares about. Are we really gonna let our dead Sunny burn themselves out in worry until they fizzle out like a dying star?”

“No, when are you getting here”

“Oh theirs the conviction~ I’ll be three minutes.”

…..

Arcane egg sits quietly within a gazebo near their old facility, their old home. They're currently on the old island port they used to run, it’s now abandoned but she’s thinking of getting it back up and running. So not only can beast yeast have easier access to the world outside, but so she can give trade opportunities to Gingerbrave’s kingdom. Give them a little gift for giving them the opportunity to see their family again, no matter how incidental it might’ve been. They feel a need to pay a debt.

And so for the past week or so they’ve worked on fixing their old… facility, facility is the best way to describe it they think. For it’s a mish mash of multiple types of buildings, such as the green house, the lighthouse, the lab, etc…. Her “keep” might be a better word. Anyways she’s been working on fixing it up since she plans to help run this old port again. But recently they’ve taken a break from that to…. Write their confession letters to Shadow milk and Golden butter.

It’s only been a day since she sent the letters she knows!! But gods above waiting is SO nerve wracking, like she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. And they hate it, they hate this feeling so, so much. God do they feel a little pathetic, wait no! No talking bad about yourself you promised you won’t. Arcane takes a deep breath in, no need to catastrophize everything ok. 

They move to the edge of the gazebo with lush tall wild grass all round, with a multitude of wild flowers dotted within. Arcane then plucks a few wild flowers and begins to weave them together into a flower crown. They needed to do something with their hands. And so a few minutes pass with only a gentle breeze to fill the air. Arcane egg than heard something…. Were they foot steps?

“Wait! Shadow milk wait-“ was that Golden butters voice? Wait what-

(THUD)

Arcane egg is suddenly knocked backwards into the grass with a loud thud, they drop the flower crown they were making. “Wha. Who?” Arcane stutters out.

The person pinning her to the ground says “We finally found you~!” Shadow milks sing song voice rings out.

“Huh- Moonie? How did you get here so fast. Weren’t you on Crispia?”

“Tut tut tut, my dear Sunny I’m an accomplished mage! Of course I got here quickly, besides you left the teleportation line open to us!”

“Oh cool…” is all Arcane can say, still very stunned from being tackled so brazenly. Especially since she’s so short.

“Shadow milk, get off her. We have things to discuss.” Golden butter says calmly but firmly, she’s focused on the goal at hand.

“But oh c'mon~ she’s just too cute like this!” Shadow milk presented Arcane like a most prized possession.

“Shadow milk…”

“Fine, fine, no fun.” Shadow milk lets out a small hmph before setting Arcane egg back on the gazebo floor quite gently actually, he then sits right beside her.

“W-why did you tackle me? Did I do something wrong?” Arcane is still a little winded.

“I wouldn’t say you did something wrong Arcane, but we do need to talk.” Golden butter then sits on Arcanes other side.

“…. Is it about the letters..?” Arcane asks nervously, are they upset?

“Hey now! Don’t start spiraling on us now!” He pinches Arcanes cheek, out of affection mostly “We actually accept!”

“HUH!?” Arcanes voice cracks a little “Really?!”

Golden butter gives Arcane a tender look “of course we accept, and even if we didn’t we wouldn’t be cruel about it.”

“Do you think so lowly of us Sunny, oh I’m wounded.”

“NO! Not at all, I just… never got the impression Goldie liked me that way. You either Moonie.”

Shadow milks face softens noticeably “Oh Sunny.” He grabs one of their hands “of course I loved you, even when I let my attention turn from you. From what really matters, I still did it for my family. For you!”

Golden butter than grabs Arcanes other hand “… I know I left you alone for… so long, I made you grieve for such a long time. And for that I’m truly sorry, we both are. Which is also why we won’t let you slip away now.”

(…Sniffle)

The two look at Arcane egg suddenly, was- was she crying?

“Hey hey hey, Sunny-!” Shadow milk begins to wipe away a few tears 

“I- I’m sorry, I just… didn’t think you would feel the same way… I was afraid of pushing you away.” Arcanes watery voice breaks her silent crying

“Oh Hun- we would never do that! We care about you too much” Golden butter says while brushing some hair out of Arcanes eyes “…we love you to much to do that.”

This makes them cry more “Guh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They quickly wipe away their tears “but if you do feel the same way… do- do you want to go on a date?”

Both of them stare before a deep blush can be seen on each “Of course! Oh this is a dream come true!” Shadow milk claps happily 

“I- of course!” Golden butter blurts out 

The three begin to discuss what their first date should be, and when beneath a sunset. Arcane doesn’t know how this will end but… she’s hopeful. It’s a nice feeling, and so warm…

She loves them so much.