#please appreciate how hard I worked to find that get scared tweet I looked for it for like half an hour

[cowardhe]

a moodboard of sorts

(image description in alt text)

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best chapter, so please don’t judge too harshly I swear it gets better!!! (: Again, forever grateful for all the kind feedback. I truly appreciate it. If you asked to be on the tag list and I accidentally forgot, please let me know! 

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Slight insinuation to sexual assault.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 & Chapter 4

Like I said before, I'm good at advertising. Although the cell phone towers are still down, making it harder for me to get the word out about a party in the boneyard, I still know how to get around to the other teenagers on this island.

I sneak in an hour of surfing on the beach, afterwards finding Tourons and even some Kooks. These are the best people to go to when you want word to get around. They're rich and live for gossip. They have the internet and cell phone service, which means they can text their friends and send out tweets. And that is exactly what they do when I'm finished talking to them.

Later, I go with JJ and John B to get the kegs. As they work their magic, somehow securing two, I walk around the lot where most kids who live on the Cut hang out, hoping to score cheap booze from a stranger walking into the beer and beverage store. I use to spend a lot of my weekends here when my dad first disappeared. A small part of me still wants to. It was so easy to forget about my life falling apart when I was too wasted to form a complete sentence.

I tell them about the party and tell them to tell their friends and so on.

As I expect, the empty boneyard fills up quickly. To Kie's dismay, almost every kid has a red solo cup in their hand instead of a reusable one by the time the sun sets. Music and the chants of people playing drinking games fill my ears like a bird chirping on a Sunday morning.

Beer dribbles down my chin and onto my pink v neck crop top. JJ has his arm linked around mine, also chugging his drink, trying to down his before me. However, I beat him by one gulp and slam my cup on the sand as triumph.

"Seriously, Mar?" Kie scolds. She picks up my cup and throws it away.

JJ just smiles at me, maybe even looks at me with some kind of pride. It's hard to beat JJ in any drinking match, but I'm his biggest competition. I usually lose against him, but sometimes I have my nights where I'm undefeated.

He points his finger at me, pretending to be mad without losing the smile on his face. He takes a menacing step forward and bends down to lift me over his shoulder. I squeal in surprise and laugh against his back as he swings me around in circles.

When he sets me down, I shove his shoulders playfully. "Looks like you've finally met your match." JJ just shakes his head. "Get me another beer, loser?"

"You're lucky you're cute." He winks.

You can't understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There's us and our friends, working-class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They're mostly from pouncy-ass boarding schools, just rich trustfarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks. They're usually my first pick. A night with no attachments and a more than likely chance I'll never see them again.

I walk past Kie, who's sitting on drift wood talking to someone about zodiac signs and horoscopes. And when I pass Pope, I hear him talking about dead bodies and how TV doesn't portray the biological condition of them accurately. I giggle to myself when I see who he's talking to. A really pretty girl who wasn't expecting to get an anatomy lesson from the boy next to her. I make a mental note to work on Pope's flirting tactics.

As I make my way to the back of the beach, I see Sarah Cameron leaning off a fallen lifeguard stand. Her boyfriend, Topper Thornton, is right there with her, trying to get her to come down. Sarah Cameron's known as the Kook princess. Kiara's best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. None of us know why she started hating her all of a sudden. She doesn't like to talk about it so we don't bring it up. However, John B works on Sarah's dad's boat thanks to me.

My teeth clench together at the sight of both of them. The two of them and their friends are the worst Kooks of all. Bad memories prickle my brain like a million tiny needles and the palms of my hands sweat against my solo cup.

I walk to the back of the beach and lean against a tree that's as close to a palm tree as this island is going to see. I like being back here when the sun goes down.  It gives me the perfect view of the party. Watching people laugh and have fun because of a night my friends and I put together makes me feel satisfied. Like I did something to make their day a little more enjoyable.

"Now what's the life of the party doing back here all by herself?" A voice that makes every muscle in my body turn to ice says.

I force myself not to look in his direction. My hands clench tighter around my cup until it bends and beer sloshes on my hand.

"Trying to avoid grimy wandering hands from pompous pricks," I say through clenched teeth. I'm surprised my voice isn't as shaky as I feel. "Go away, Rafe."

Rafe Cameron ignores me and moves to stand in front of me. His blonde hair is slicked back with a gel that's probably more expensive than my entire outfit. He's wearing a salmon pink button up shirt and white shorts. The sight of him makes me sick and I don't know if I want to drink more heavily or throw up and call it a night.

"Oh come on, Marleigh. Let's not pretend like you don't want to finish what we started."

I stand up straighter, feeling bile rise in my throat. "I'd rather rip both of my eyes out with a spoon." My insult wipes his stupid cocky grin off his smug face. At first I take it as a compliment, but the look in his eyes chills me to the bone. "Get out of here, Rafe. I'm not going to tell you again."

Rafe jerks forward and pushes me back into the trunk of the tree. His forearm presses against my chest, right below my collarbone. I try fighting him off but he's surprisingly strong. His eyes swing back and forth with craze, his pupils large and dilated. He's gotta be on something. Cocaine maybe. I've heard rumors.

"You think you can talk to me like that? After what my dad did for your friends?"

"Your dad only helped them in hopes to cover up the mistake that you made," I seethe, trying to push him away again. I try to keep my breathing even and my eyes unblinking. I don't want him to think I'm afraid of him. Even though I'm scared enough to vomit on his two hundred dollar shoes. "I owe you nothing." There's a pause as Rafe considers his next words carefully. So I push even harder. "You know, if you keep bringing it up, people might overhear and start to talk. I don't know if even your dad could buy the entire island's silence."

"You seriously think you can threaten me? You're nothing but a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. No one will believe the Cut's biggest whore." Rafe shakes his head. "Remember that next time you think about talking to me like that."

His words cut through me like a stab in the chest, but I try not to let him see that. I push against him, keeping my face pinched and my eyes unwavering. "I'm not the same girl I was eight months ago," I say, finally pushing him away from me.

Back then I was a messed up girl who's dad had just left after a big argument that resulted in him thinking she hated him. All I wanted to do was drown myself with drugs and alcohol in hopes to forget about him, even if that meant following Kie to a Kook party when she was trying to roll around in the Kook life. I was easy to manipulate and take advantage of...easy to hurt. But not anymore.

"You think I'm above hitting a girl?" Rafe breathes heavily, his hands clenched to his side. I struck a nerve. One more and he might actually attack me.

"No," I say honestly. "I don't think you're above anything...or anyone. Including me - a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue." I use his words against him.

Rafe jerks forward and raises his hand to hit me and I'm ready for the blow and a fight back, but someone's voice forces us to halt, stopping us like she just pressed paused on a movie screen.

Kie watches us with wide eyes and glances back and forth between us. She looks both scared and angry. Rafe doesn't even bother looking in her direction. He's more disappointed that she got in his way.

I stand up straight again and walk past him, making sure to shove him backwards with my shoulder. Kie wraps her arm around mine and pulls me in close as she guides me away from him. She looks behind us one last time to make sure Rafe isn't following us. When the coast is clear, she stops and turns to look at me with a stone cold expression.

"What the hell was that?" She says, trying to read my face. "Are you okay?"

I can barely hear her behind the screaming in my head. Dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. The Cut's biggest whore. Who would believe you?

"Fine," I shrug, feigning nonchalance. I look back to where I was just standing. Rafe's gone, but the nausea he left me with isn't.

"Marleigh."

"Seriously, Kie. I'm fine. Just some unresolved built up resentment coming out full-fledged. I can't say I'm surprised. Now that summer's started, we're probably going to see a lot more of them."

Kie sighs and looks at me sympathetically. I hate that look.  "You should tell the boys."

"What? No way!" I snap.

"What if he -"

"He's not going to." I glare at her.

"Why won't you just -"

"So they can think of me as some pathetic little girl who needs protection from some self-centered Kook? Besides, John B and probably JJ will go after him and the last thing either of them need is charges pressed against them."

The noise of people yelling at one another and some cheering stops Kie from fighting back with me. We turn to look towards the water, seeing a crowd form around two people fighting. Dread creeps up my chest. If I had one hundred dollars, I'd bet it all that one of my friends is the center of attention in that crowd.

Kie and I run to them, pushing ourselves to the front. My breath hitches in my throat when I see who's involved. John B and Topper are fighting ankle deep in the ocean, each one getting a few good punches in.

"John B, stop!" I yell. I don't care who started the fight or why Topper deserves to get beaten to shit. If John B gets caught, the two of us are more than screwed with DCS.

"We're suppose to be incognito, remember?" Pope yells at my brother next to me.

"Babe!" Sarah yells at her boyfriend, jerking back and forth, trying to grab him by the shirt to pull him back. But his movements are scrappy. Sarah would just get hurt.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd around us cheer like it's a high school wrestling match and not my brother, the one that threw them this party by the way. I can't believe people find this as a source of entertainment. Half of them wouldn't even last a second if they were the one's getting beaten to a pulp.

Topper gets the upper hand and throws John B into the water. I flinch from the pain that must of caused to John B's back.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" Topper says.

In that moment my vision turns red and a switch flips in my body. I picture my hands around Topper's neck and him begging for me to let him go - him taking back those words.

When I step into the water to reach him, arms wrap around my waist, stopping me from going forward. I glare at the blonde Pogue and try shoving him away from me but that only makes his grip on me tighten.

"JJ, let me go," I grunt.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Can't do that." His lips are so close that I can feel his breath.

John B tackles Topper to the ground and punches him in the face again.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"John B, let it go!" Kie screams. "Stop, you guys!"

Topper kicks John B's feet from under him and just like that, JB is back in the water. The Kook kneels next to him and punches my brother across the face before shoving his head into the water.

"Topper stop!" I yell.

"Come on John B!" Pope yells.

Topper lets John B come up for air before dunking him back in. I feel my chest tighten when I realize what Topper is going to do, whether he means to or not.

"JJ, please! He's going to kill him! JJ!" I cry against his hold.

"Come on, Man!" Topper taunts John B, keeping his head under water.

I'm going to kill him, I think. The second JJ lets go, I'm going to rip Topper apart.

"Topper, stop! No!" Sarah cries.

"Pope!" JJ says, swinging me around before pushing me into our other friend's arms. "Hold her."

"What? No!" I fight back but even Pope is stronger than I give him credit for.

JJ disappears to God knows where and I'm left watching like a stranded duck. I feel useless, like I should be doing more to help my brother. Everything I said to Rafe only minutes ago goes straight out the window. Maybe I am weak and still a girl who needs protecting.

Then the world freezes. JJ holds the gun we found in the motel to Topper's head, not only making Topper pause, but the rest of the crowd too. Pope releases his hold on me and I stumble away from him. I only watch the scene unfold in front of me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, you know what that is," JJ says, clicking the safety off the gun. "Your move, broski."

"Come on!" Pope yells. "Chill dude!"

"Stop! JJ!" Sarah cries. "Put the gun down!"

"Did you say something princess?" JJ turns towards Sarah and points his gun at the sky.

"We're good. We're good." Topper stumbles away from my brother to stand in front of his girlfriend.

The second he backs away, I'm in the water helping John B. I pull his upper back into my lap and push his hair out of his face. He coughs up a couple gulps of water before relaxing against me.

"Kie! Can you check your psycho friend, please!" Sarah yells.

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" JJ addresses everyone else who still watch in fear. "Get the hell off our side of the island!" He fires two bullets into the sky, causing people to shriek and cry around me.

"Are you crazy?" Kie yells at him. "Why do that?"

"I'm saving his life, okay?" JJ yells back at her.

When people begin dispersing, Pope runs into the water to help me lift John B back to shore. He's in a daze and barely able to stand on his own.

The four of them help me drag him back to the Chateau, the party long forgotten. Kie covers John B with blankets and places a glass of water on the nightstand for when he wakes up. I don't say anything as the night wraps up. I'm not mad at JJ like Pope and Kie. He did what he had to do to save John B. Topper could have killed him and the police would probably chop it up as an accident and I would be left with no family.

"You guys should go," I say.

I just want to be alone. Between Rafe and Topper, all I can think about is sleep so I can wake up to a new day. Start over and try again.

"Are you sure?" JJ asks, looking between my eyes to find any sign for him to stay.

As much as I want JJ to stay the night and let me cuddle into him like the night before, it's best if I'm alone. So I reluctantly nod.

"You can stay at mine tonight, JJ," Pope offers.

I offer a weak smile before turning around to lock myself in my room. When I hear the door to the Chateau close one last time for the night, I sigh deeply and stare up at my ceiling. I'm restless, anxious, sweaty. As much as I want sleep, sleep doesn't want me. I toss and turn hoping for a wave of darkness to hit me but it never does.

I glance at my clock. 3:04 AM. I roll my eyes and groan to myself, pushing myself up against my bed's headboard. I tip toe out of the Chateau and make my way down to the dock. I dip my toes in the water and lay back against the wooden slacks. The moon's half crescent illuminates the water, dark with a mystery glint. It's cold against the night, feeling refreshing against my skin.

Even my mind isn't tired. My head wanders with different thoughts. Rafe, Topper, Scooter, the gun...my dad. His words echo through my ears like a skipping record. The night before he disappeared he told John B and I that he might have to vanish for a bit. This only caused a major fight to brew between my father and I whereas John B only nodded and said okay. I think this is why John B still holds on to hope that he's alive somewhere.

John B was always the loyal one to my father. Although they fought almost as much as my dad and I, they were quick to move on and pretend like it wouldn't happen again. Even though it always did. He tried to help my dad keep me on track with school, friends, and other activities. Most of the time, he just joined in on my antics. Sometimes I regret not giving my dad enough credit. He was a single father to Pogue twins with the distraction of his own obsession. My last words to him haunt me every day I pass his office.

"I hate you!" I screamed. I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears. I wanted him to know I was strong and that I didn't need him. I think my main intention was to hurt him like he hurt me, but I would do anything to take it back.

                                                  ~ ~ ~

I wake up to the low rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel underneath some tires. I blink away the sleep in my eyes, looking out into the marsh. The sun is above me, warming the entire island with it's summer heat so early in the morning.

My back aches as I sit myself up. I twist to find the noise that woke me up.

"Shit," I curse when I see the cop car parked in front of the Chateau.

Sheriff Peterkin sees me walking up my yard and waits for me to approach her before barging into my house. I squint against the morning light. Even though I'm not in the mood for a pop in, I actually like Peterkin. She's the only one I trust to do her job right.

"I hope you brought some coffee," I say before opening the door for her.

"This will be quick," She says. I watch her eyes scan my kitchen and living room judgmentally. "Where's your brother?"

I point to his room. Peterkin gives me a look to go first. I sigh, knocking twice on the door before letting myself in. John B is still passed out. Half of his body hangs off the bed. His left eye is officially black and blue, a mark I know Peterkin won't subtly ignore. It's the first thing she sees and gives me a sideways glance. I cross my arms and look away.

John B blinks up at us when he hears our footsteps. His brows furrow in confusion, sleep still fogging his head.

"Get decent, sweetie," Peterkin says. "We need to talk."

As we wait for JB to get dressed, I sit on the pull out couch in my living room, fumbling with my thumbs until he appears, dressed in an open button up and swim trunks. He glances between Peterkin and I for some answers but neither of us give him any.

"Sorry to break in like this," She says, pacing the floor. John B stands next to me with his arms crossed. "But DCS called. They wanted me to check on you. See how you two are doing." Neither of us answer. "So, how are you, besides -" She points to JB's shiner and I hold myself back from rolling my eyes. So far so good!

"Oh, no, I'm - I'm great," John B says, shrugging like our life is just full of rainbows and butterflies. "Yeah, fantastic. Uh... thanks for coming by."

Peterkin just smirks. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, John B, but I heard a few things that worried me. Let me see if I can remember. Oh yeah. One of the things I heard was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn't been in the state for three months."

"Yes he has -"

Peterkin cuts me off. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's true. I called the school. They said you used to be a good student," She says, looking at John B. Then she looks at me. "You not so much. But John they say now you're failing all your classes."

"No. No, I'm only failing one and it's history. He's a dick. He's out for me - "

"I heard," Peterkin continues, not giving a damn about John B's bullshit excuses, "there was a fight on the beach yesterday, and a gun was involved."

My eyes snap up to look directly at Peterkin. I feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. What else was she going to ask? Would JJ get in trouble? Are we going to jail?

"Okay, gun?" John B plays dumb. "No. Did I get in a  dustup? Yeah, but was there a gun? No. No way," He scoffs.

"That's okay I know who it was. I'll get to him. All I'm worried about right now is making sure you're in a safe home."

"Yeah," I say. "Super safe."

John B knocks the table next to him. "Super sound, sturdy. You know?"

"Uncle T's coming so..." I say to get John B to stop talking. He's a lot of things but a good liar isn't one of them.

"That's what he told you?" Peterkin looks at me with a raised brow.

"Yeah."

"If he is coming," Peterkin picks up a cigarette and sniffs it. "I think you should be allowed to stay."

"Thank you."

"But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat."

John B tilts his head in confusion. "What - what does tat mean?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and let my head fall back. I swear I'm going to buy duct tape to keep this boy's mouth shut.

Peterkin ignores him. "Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?"

"Yeah," I decide to answer. "We were fishing for some drum."

"You catch anything?"

"Nah, we were skunked."

"Strange," She says, not believing me. "Fishing's usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up. You come across a wreck yesterday?"

"No." My heart falls deeper,  but I try to keep a straight face.

This makes Peterkin sigh and she glances between the two of us. "You two are skimmin' just above the surface. Now, down here is foster care, juvie," She says, dropping her hand to about knee length. "Pretty big drop for smart kids like the both of you." She moves her hand to eye level. "Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks...or foster care on the mainland." I let her threat swim in my brain. "You one inch above the surface, Routledge. If I was you, I'd start flapping my wings." She looks at us one last time, no longer wanting to play games. "Now, you sure you didn't come across a wreck yesterday?" She looks at John B who's more likely to blab than me.

I look up at my brother, warning him that he needs to lie.

He shrugs his shoulder, the lie sliding across his tongue like silk. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm sure."

Peterkin looks between John B and I and nods slowly. "It's better if you didn't, you understand? I'm gonna look the other way as long as you stay out of the marsh." She runs her finger along the wooden kitchen table and rubs the dust between her fingers. "I got dogs living better than this. You might wanna think about cleaning' up."

Peterkin lets herself out without saying goodbye. John B and I don't say anything until her car pulls out of the driveway and only then do we just share a look that says how screwed we both are.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick @moniamaybank @urbinoutfiters​ @brebear121​

[tortoisenottortoise]

Am I the only one who likes seeing muscular women in media more than muscular men?

Alright so, this one will probably end up much shorter and a little more ranty than I'd like, but this is kind of personal so be fairly warned. 

 Recently I've seen a few complaints about the new He-Man show and honestly, I fully understand and empathize with them. Whilst I haven't fully seen the show, from what I've viewed I can personally speaking agree (or at the very least understand) where most criticisms come from. I think it's incredibly shitty that the writer basically lied to his audience about how the show would run. Now normally I'd be fine with a twist such as He-man dying, but he's an important part of the show and the way the marketing & merchandising for it was running kind of comes across as him basically using He-Man's name to get people into the show. I also feel like it's fine to view Teela as obnoxious and annoying, nothing about her personality-wise seems likable to me. I also heard a few complaints about Orko's (I think that's his name, don't crucify me) backstory and how his character was handled.Yet as the title suggests one that didn't stick with me was the criticism of Teela and a general trend towards the criticism of women in media as being "masculine". 

I've heard over and over that Hollywood representing strong women by giving them masculine traits is a bad thing and yet... I kind of don't get it? It feels odd to say, almost like I'm the dumbest man alive for admitting something which most people on the internet seem to be so sure about, yet I just don't understand where this is coming from. I've seen this thrown at She-hulk, Wonder Woman, Abby, and many other characters, yet when inquired it usually loops back around to, "Yeah they have muscles", and that's about it. This type of criticism in specific seems to overly focus on the appearance of said characters. It's the one critique I just can't get behind and it feels like at best it's a shallow criticism that fails to get its point across, and at worst it's actively demeaning to women who desire to or show masculine traits. But first, let me break this down into sections.

Section 1: Muscles =/= Masculinity (In my opinion at least)

Oh boy, I feel like this is a section that might rustle some feathers, but I'm going to try and explain myself best as possible. I simply do not view muscularity as a feature that is inherent to or should be inherent to men. I'm not going to pretend as if muscular men aren't more saturated in media and art, nor as if they're societally treated as masculine, but one of the reasons I fail to understand this criticism is that I see muscles beyond the horizons as being just a masculine trait. 

I believe that muscles should instead be seen as a sign of hard work and determination. As someone who's currently trying (and struggling) to stay healthy and fit, it's much harder than a lot of media portrays it to be. It's a test where you push yourself to the limits, not just for the sake of doing it, but so you can improve as a person. Whenever I go to the gym and see a muscular gal or guy walk by, my immediate thought isn't, "how masculine" or anything like that my thought is, "wow! They worked hard to get like that, I should work hard as well!". 

This interpretation tends to feel like it's just simply taking a piss on people who actively work hard to achieve higher levels of strength. Especially when society places and enforces these unrealistic standards onto people. If you don't have a six-quintillion pack nor can bench press a fucking house then you're worthless, of course, that is unless you actually attempt to pursue said standards which in that case you're automatically dismissed as cheating your way to gaining your muscles instead of putting any work in. And that's just for men who often don't have to deal with traditional idiots who are stuck in the year 1950 where I can't walk on the same street as them. My skin crawls when reading tweets from older men talking about how weightlifting women are "ruining their fertility" and I absolutely hate it when people in my life treat these women as if they're mythical creatures from a fairy tale, or when females who have trained to such a degree are simply dismissed as being inferior. 

Obviously, I don't think the people who say this are like that, but whenever I hear this type of critique I can't help but think of the culmination of all these experiences I've gone through. But then again, this might honestly just be because I'm personally attracted to muscular women.

  Section 2: Body type diversity

  Another reason that I tend to like muscular women in media over muscular men is simply due to the sheer oversaturation of muscular men. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem if anybody likes muscular men. I totally get wanting to shove your face in between some man titties or get inspired by their physiques. In all honesty, almost everything I said earlier can directly apply to men, but one of the reasons I bring up body type diversity is that there tend to be much less muscular women than men. I

f anything, I'd have to say that muscular men are almost treated as the default when it comes to things like superhero comics, movies, video games, anime, etc. In a similar vein, the default for women tends to be slim and curvaceous, you get the drill. Whenever someone who doesn't fit into either body type shows up and isn't treated like a joke/gag or a character to rip on, I can't help but be happy about it. As much as I have no clue wtf is going on with TLOU2, I can appreciate that Abby's portrayal doesn't seem to exist solely as a joke meant to demean women for working out. I'm excited when an anime protagonist is a fat character who can go beyond just being a "fat guy" and is treated the same way a normal person would be.

 Regardless of what you think about whatever trait you're criticizing, there's probably someone out there who fits it. If you're not into it or dislike it, then that's fine, but I'd rather have that expressed than it being actively made out as a harmful trope as opposed to just literally another body type that some women have.

  Section 3: Muscular women inspire me more

Ok so, we've now blown into a full-on personal experience, buckle up boys, girls, NBs, anything in between, and I feel like I'm forgetting someone so apologies! But yeah, muscular women in media tend to be a lot more inspiring than people seem to give them credit for. This comes down to a mix of both the qualities I outlined earlier in what makes the characters inspiring but also plays into the idea of body diversity. 

One of the traits that make amazons seem more inspiring is their inherent rarity/lack of screentime. As I stated earlier, whilst I do enjoy my fair share of man-titties, it kind of gets to a point where it's more depressing than inspiring when all you see is just super-models shoved in your face whenever you walk into a theater. If for every Goku I could find ten other guys who were on the chubbier side then I'd be able to take more from when I see Goku and other characters with his body type, yet it's so saturated that it no longer becomes something to aspire to, but simply the norm.  It's not that you can work to become muscular or skinny with hard work and effort, you have to be muscular or skinny unless you want to be deemed a failure. Being chubby often isn't presented as a starting point but just treated as a defect. As someone who spent years battling with my own self-perception, that's just not a good message to get across.

Now, this obviously isn't to say that people can never make muscular characters. After all, it's their story so they can put whatever they want in it. The aim of the game isn't to stop people from making a specific type of character, but to encourage a diverse set of people to make a diverse set of characters. This is the reason why I view muscular women as so inspiring. Instead of coming across as just "the norm" or "the standard" they stand out from the crowd and despite knowing what they have to deal with, are still ready and willing to work out and improve their bodies. They had a goal in mind and set time aside to achieve said goal, that's something I can get behind.

  Conclusion:

This will be another short section, but I just wanted to mention it because it caps off my thoughts on this post in general. What originally started as me just not getting the reason why people disliked Teela's design somehow turned into a passionate rant and I'm A) not sure if it fits on this particular subsection of the community, B) scared I'm going to get ripped to pieces, and C) somewhat unsatisfied with all that I said. At the end of the day, this probably won't be seen by too many people, but to those who do see it, I hope you have a wonderful day. I just wanted to talk about something that was near and dear to my heart and hoped that I made it clear why I view things the way I do. 

P.S: Can we stop having this double standard where we act like women whose arms show the slightest hint of definition are "unrealistic" whilst men can look like tree trunks and be considered normal and healthy? please and thank you!

[kissesinthekitchen]

Mine

Prompt: In which a jealous and protective Harry gets into a fight defending your honor, and you decide to repay him. 

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Smutty fluff. Word count: 3,446. Rated mature.

A/N: I’ve been lurking the Harry fic tag for a while now, and have become so inspired by many of the writers and stories I have encountered on here. This is my first ever Harry fanfic. Please be gentle. Likes/reblogs and any love would be appreciated! Enjoy. x

“That wasn’t quite treating people with kindness, was it?” 

You stare down at your boyfriend who is sitting on the hotel sofa, grinning up at you through his lashes and a gruesome bloody lip. 

“Fuckin’ tosser shouldn’t have been grabbing at you though. That’s right, innit?”

You press the towel of ice over his eyelid, which is already turning an angry purple and puffing up. 

It’s a fucking messy picture. Harry can only stare at you with one eye. His cheek looks equally upset, scratched and bruised. When he winces, his lip cracks again oozing blood and saliva from the pressure of mouth and teeth and dribbling onto his floral shirt. His hands are still shaking, swollen too -

This is not how you wanted to spend your last night in London before going home to see his family for the holidays. 

It was only supposed to be one night out. Dinner and then some drinks at a fancy club that Gemma had suggested months ago. You’d gone to the bar to grab some shots ---- when a red faced, tan man with greasy blonde hair had appeared at your side as you waited for the bartender to prepare your drinks. 

He’d been leaning against the bar. He used one arm to stroke your hair, his fingers dipping into your hair to brush back some strands behind your ear. The same hand then moved to train down the exposed skin of your arms. “Mmm,” he said. “Don’t you look like a present? My name’s Michael. What’s your name, love?”

“Oh-” you stuttered, trying to shrug out of his grasp. “Hi. Sorry I’m with-”

“With me, right? You’re a fucking stunner. Meant to be - that’s what we are.”

“Sorry. No. Thank you-” he was so close you had to turn in his embrace to be able to face the bartender again. You took the two glasses in each hand and tried to shift away but he wrapped the other arm around your waist, squeezing you. You were frozen. 

Your eyes tried to scan the crowd for Harry’s face, the music making you feel something akin to drowning as this Michael’s hands deepened their hold on your  skin. You froze as you felt them move to your ass. 

“I’m here with my boyfriend. Sorry.” you tried to recoil and raise the glasses up, so it would block him from trying to smash his face against yours. But it didn’t work, he took your protest as something enticing. It provoked him to move closer -- you could vomit. 

“Your what?” he tried to play along. “Where’s he? Wouldn’t let you outta my sight if you were mine.”

Then you heard a low, deep voice boom from behind you. 

“She’s here with her fucking boyfriend.”

“Harry-” you could hear the shrillness in your voice, your throat threatening to close around the anxiety and panic that had begun to pull you under. Your heart felt like it might soar with relief. He grabbed you to him so quickly, it felt like whiplash, the drinks jostling, tequila spilling on his expensive blazer. “Harry, I’m sorry-”

But he didn’t seem to hear you as he shoved you behind him. 

And Michael? The man was laughing. You watched him over Harry’s shoulder, your cheek pressed against his back. 

“You’re a fucking bitch!” he spit, before his eyes landed on Harry. “God. Don’t I know you from the telly?” He chuckled. His mouth widening when recognition dawned on him. “Oh shit! Fucking popstar!” His eyes fell on some of the people who were now turning around in the commotion-

“Harry,” you tried to tug on your boyfriend’s arm. “Let’s go.” 

But it felt like you weren’t there. His eyes were still focused on the drunk man in front of him. 

“You were saying something?” he said. His jaw ticked. The vein in his neck was pulsing. “Come on with it, then? Fuckin’ tosser.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, as if hearing him for the first time. He stepped closer to Harry. 

“Harry, come on-” you begged.

“You had something to fucking say-” Harry didn’t flinch, even as your grip on his tightened. Your nails digging into his skin-

“I. Said.” He blew air in Harry’s face. “You should keep an eye on your fucking slag.” 

Harry laughed. He did this when he got angry. Got sarcastic. There are times where you’ve argued and the sound was so cold, it felt like it could turn you to stone. It’s a memory you don’t think about often - the moments are so few and far between- but now-

In a blur, you saw Harry raise his fist and punch Michael right in the face. He threw the force of his body in it, the heavy rings on his fingers connecting with his nose at such an ugly, and gruesome angle. You could tell Harry’s reaction had caught him by surprise, he crumpled to the floor in one movement, hands grasping at his face, red dripping onto his fingers. He sounded like he was choking. 

“Harry!” you screamed. 

The crowd around you fell into a thunderous commotion, a crescendo of shouting combined with the music and flashes. The wave of people tightening to get better shots. 

“Fucking asshole!” Harry shouted. “Disgusting. Bastard. Fucking idiot!”

You tried to wrap both arms around his waist, tried to grab him away from the scene unfolding in front of you but it was too late. You could feel the way his skin seemed to vibrate under your touch. Michael grabbed for him and tried to punch him back but he missed his jaw, instead splitting his mouth in two. He tried to swing again on his crooked feet and hit Harry in the cheek. Harry made a show of spitting blood onto the tiled floor, his eyes narrowing as his fist connected with Michael’s face again and again. 

“Fucking asshole! Fucking asshole!” You saw spots of blonde hair, the commotion seemed to pulse around you. 

“Harry! Fuck, Harry stop!” 

You grabbed at Harry to pull him off Michael right as the guards of the club broke up the fight. 

“The fuck is going on here?” one giant, burly man said. His arms extended out to separate both men. 

Harry spit out more blood. “That’s my fucking girlfriend!” he glanced back to stare into your panicked eyes. “Fucking bastard grabbed at her. Wouldn’t let her go. Could we not have gotten some fucking help? Bullshit. This the kind of guys you want in your place?” Harry narrowed his eyes. 

“That true?” the guard turned to where Michael still lay in a heap on the floor. “You try to make a grab at her?” 

“I was-I” he tried to stutter around an alibi. 

Then the focus was on you. “He made you feel unsafe, ma��am?”

You could sink under the attention. You felt so small. Harry seemed to sense this, his bloodied hands moved to grasp you and just that - his hands on your forearms, holding in you place- was enough. You tried to find your voice. 

“Was just getting our drinks. He grabbed me, I couldn’t move-his hands were on my-”

The guard’s face fell, full of understanding. “Alright-” he grabbed Michael’s arms and pulled them back. “You’re out of here, mate. S’what you get for being an asshole.”

Harry’s head followed them. He was still breathing hard. 

Michael started to yell as he was carried away, “Oi! Fucking popstar, I hope you got some fucking lawyers ready. Won’t fucking get away with this!” 

“Harry,” you grabbed at him. “Harry-let’s go-”

But his eyes were still so far away. 

“Fucking bitch,” Michael spat blood in your direction.

“Harry,” you narrowed your voice, your arms locked around his waist. He stared down at you, as if finally realizing what happened, as if he was looking at you for the first time in a while.  His arm was tight around your neck. “Let’s go. Please.” 

Deepening his stare, he squeezed you tight with a quick peck to your head and finally -finally - let you steer him towards the exit. 

---

“Your mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Mum’s not gonna kill you.”

“She won’t get any photos of you at Christmas now that your face has been smashed in.”

At that, Harry seems to agree, you know by the silence you fall into as you continue working. The club owner was gracious enough to let you two through a private back entrance so you could try to avoid anymore prying eyes from the cameras on the videos you’re sure people recorded on their cellphones, as well as the photographers that had gathered outside in the commotion as a result of a bunch of tweets and texts going out. 

You’d been silent on the ride home too, holding Harry’s clasped hands in your lap. Insisting on asking the Uber driver to stop at a pharmacy so you could grab a first aid kit to patch your boyfriend back together again. 

You asked the driver to go around the back of the hotel to avoid some photographers that had already gathered outside. And once there, you carried Harry up to the hotel room with his arm staying slung over your shoulder, keeping you tight to his side even when you had to take the bucket from the fridge down to fill it with ice cubes for his face. 

And now, sitting on your knees in front of Harry, you still don’t know whether to be upset with him. 

Sure, you’d been scared - horribly frightened even- when you heard the crack of that douchebag’s bone under his fist. But there’s a larger, almost unbeknownst part of yourself that you don’t want to acknowledge - the relief that had rushed over you when Harry had appeared by your side, his big hands moving you behind him. The way your heart thrummed, the chill down your spine at the angry, dangerous look in Harry’s eyes. To see him look so out of control with his anger. So unhinged. God, it might have even made you a little wet. 

But you won’t tell Harry that, not yet at least. Not when he’s still hurt and simultaneously being a smug little shit as you treat his wounds. You let the silence draw out like the space between you. You try to ignore the way you can feel his eyes on you, you think it’s just him trying to make sure you’re okay, maybe waiting for you into go into hysterics - but no, he’s always like this. Some part of him always itching to be a part of you. As if to demonstrate it, he keeps one long arm reaching towards you, his large hand resting draped over your lap as you lean in to inspect his face. 

“Ice is melting. Let me change it,” you say, gingerly unfolding the hand on his eye. You scoop more ice out from the bucket and into another towel. “Press it down.” You remind him, as he holds it to his eye with the hand not on your leg. You unwrap a pack of bandages, alcohol, ointment and go to work. 

“‘It’s gonna make the paper tomorrow, babe.” He winces as you swipe the alcohol across his cheek, but you don’t know whether it’s because of the cut or the truth you’ve just reminded him is dawning. “Might even be online already. Probably trending.” 

“Shit-” he mutters. 

A long minute passes before he speaks again. 

“S’gonna be alright.” he whispers. “We’ll be alright.” 

“Mmmhmm,” you say back, your attention focused on cleaning the rest of the drying blood on his cheek. His usually flawless pale skin flushes in your grasp. 

“M’sorry about work.” he says, softly as if he’s embarrassed. You only nod in silence as you smooth another band-aid across his cheekbone, your fingers pressing against the sharpness of it - too distracted to really consider the gossip that will follow you back to the elementary school you work at. The nosey coworkers. Idly, you think -hope, pray- that the holiday will create enough distance. You don’t think the school would like another barrage of paparazzi trying to loom around the campus. You remember the scowl that had gripped Harry’s face when you told him that someone had tried to follow you home-

“It’s okay,” you tell him, your fingers grasping his face so he knows you’re serious. “You were only defending my honor.”

At that, he blinks, the smoothness of his lips trembling from a straight line into a curve. He beams up at you. “I was…?”

You straighten your back to dump the bloodied wash cloth and bandages into the bin next to you. “I should repay you for that, shouldn’t I?”

In the corner of your eye you see Harry perk up, the air shifting as he realizes you’re no longer angry or upset with him. At least, not anymore. 

He closes his eyes as you run your hands through the curls on his head, scratching your nails at the nape of his neck where he likes it best. You move onto your knees to slide into his lap and straddle his thighs. 

“God. I love your face. Hate to see it like this.” you admit to him, nuzzling close to where the buttons of his shirt are open, your lips pressing kisses to his throat and collarbones. “Wish I could kiss you.”

“Got other parts of me you can kiss, pet.” 

You smirk at him, pulling back to smooth your hair over one shoulder. “Is that right?”

“Can’t you feel me?” He chuckles. “Want you so bad, honey.” 

He hisses as you move to unbuckle the belt of his pants, your warm fingers digging into the waistband of his underwear to take him into your hand. He licks his lips and whines as you grasp him, pulling tight at the tip where he’s already throbbing and leaking and pushing down. 

He whines. “Mmm, so hard, love.” 

“Yeah? Getting into fights make you hard, Harry? Saw red when you saw someone touching what was yours?”

“Shit-” he says. It’s a grunt through his clenched teeth. The gravely sound of it makes you clench at the sound. “Yeah-yeah. You’re mine. Fuck. I don’t know what came over me.” He laughs, low in his throat. “I think I could’a fuckin’ killed him-”

“Should do something for you then, huh?” You giggle, a mischievous smile stretching over your lips. “How do you want me, H?”

“On your knees,” he says. “Want your mouth. Take me into your mouth, love.”

His eyes seem to find clarity for a moment, the deepness of his voice guiding you back onto the floor. 

Usually you pepper kisses down his abdomen, kiss every one of his tattoos but there is no time for that tonight. It’s not what he deserves. Quickly, you make work of his clothes, pulling his trousers and underwear down enough to pull his cock out. You move onto your knees to hover over him, hot breath and lips kissing up the length of him-

Your cheeks feel hot as you let his voice guide you, even though you’ve done this so many times. 

“None of that right now please. Put me in love.” Harry moans as you open your mouth wide, your eyes locked with his green gaze, never breaking contact as you let him use you to get off. One hand grasping the base of himself so he can feed you his cock. Your lips work over the thickness of him, something you’ll never ever get used to. Your mouth and chin becoming slick with your spit and his precum as you work your mouth on him. He feels heavy against your tongue. “God, you suck it so well. Take me so well, love. Fuck. Your mouth’s so soft-” 

“Why’re you so good to me?” he babbles on. Your ears feels like they’re prickling under the warmth of his praise. You would be smiling at him if your mouth wasn’t so stuffed with his cock. “God. Why’re you so good to me? Suckin’ me so well. And probably gonna let me eat your cunt later, huh? Have got such a pretty pussy too. My baby-”

You try to press your thighs together but it’s not enough. It’s as if every one of Harry’s grunts and moans is able to egg your hands on. It’s hard but you untangle your fingers from his to slip it under your dress and push your panties aside to press them against where you are aching and disappointingly empty. Your lips are firm as you moan around Harry’s length. 

You watch his neck roll back against the couch, the line of his jaw tipping up towards the ceiling as he swallows hard. His Adam’s Apple is bobbing. “God, does sucking my cock make you wet, love? You’re so sweet. Do you like it when I come for you? It makes you so wet-God. Fuck. I can hear it. I can hear how wet you are for me.”

One of his hands stays clasped over your forearm, which is resting against the tiger tattoo on his thigh and gripping the base of him where your mouth can’t stretch. The other is tangled in your hair, combing it back and cupping your cheek so he can stare into your face as you suck him off. 

“Fuck,” he says, as if disbelief is caught in his throat. “Let me see that pretty face stretched over my cock. You’re so beautiful, baby.” At that, you hollow your cheeks and hum back in appreciation. 

You can tell Harry’s close when he gets more desperate. His grunts and moans get closer together, his fingers more frantic to find purchase on something. 

“Don’t,” he grunts, even as his fingers have moved to grip the back of your head to keep you in place so he can fuck into your mouth. His hips are stuttering off the edge of the couch as he gasps, “You’ll make me come. Y/N. You’ll make me come. Oh god-”

His voice breaks, cracking around the sound of your name as he spills deep into your mouth. 

“Y/N. Y/N. Fuck me- Y/N,” he says.

You take him in deep, swallowing down the taste of him as he trembles and whimpers your name again and again. Not one drop left spared, because just like he is always so desperate to be a part of you, you’re so very desperate for every inch of him. 

You moan your appreciation back and hold him there until he starts to soften. The muscles in your jaw and throat ache but you’re happy. His fingers stroke the back of your head when you know he’s become too sensitive, and you let him slip from your mouth. You lick around the length of his cock, his balls, pressing lips to his stomach and cleaning him up. Resting your head against his torso and rubbing your fingers and lips against the leaves on his belly as you listen to him calm down. 

“Fuck. C’mere love-” You tuck him back into his pants and pull yourself up the length of him to press your mouth to his. His fingers grasp your face tenderly and clench in your hair, his moans deepening as he tastes himself on your tongue. “Thank you. God, I love you so much. I needed that. Needed you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, as you settle back into the nest of his lap. “Don’t want you starting a fuss over me. Or hurting this beautiful face. My favorite face. But still, thank you.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you, kissing the top of his head and the roots of his hair. 

“For what?” he muses, with a mischievous grin. He slides his other hand around your waist and presses his face into your throat and nuzzling the top of your breasts, cuddling closer. 

“For defending my honor,” You cradle his blistered hand up to your face and kiss the rings on his knuckles as you begin listing things off. “For not letting that asshole get away. For showing everyone not to mess with what’s yours.”

“Did what I had to do, didn’t I?” he says, looking up at you. Your heart clenches at the conviction in his voice. The crease in his eye somehow still making him more adorable, even all puffed up. The dimple in his cheek deepening. 

“You’re my woman,” he says in a voice that sounds like nothing else in his life could be more true. 

You kiss the side of his mouth, his cheek tenderly as he whispers into your hair-

“And I’m your man.” 

____

A/N: Hope you liked this! Fine Line has inspired me to try to write a story for each track on the album. This was what I came up with for Treat People with Kindness, as the joke y/n makes in the beginning popped in my head! More stories to come hopefully. 

[iwantitiwriteit]

Love Lockdown - Part 4

Begin Again

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You and Chris have your first serious conversation after being apart for the first few weeks of lockdown.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity, dash of Fluff, sprinkle of Sexual suggestiveness

Notes: Another In My Feelings Monday™ yesterday! Hopefully there’ll be more musings as the weeks go on, but I loved the whimsy the mindset added to me day! 🥰 This part y’all! Whew! Tried to get as much angsty good tension in there as I could muster-- I won’t rest until we’re all bawling lol Read the previous part here!

Let it be known, that for a professional writer, you were shit with words. 

Though you were a force with pen to paper, fingertips to keyboard, and a mirage of emotions… maybe some wine, when it came to verbal expression, you were more tongue-tied than a motherfu—

“What do you mean?”

Your mouth is dry as it opens and closes like a fish out of water, a lame attempt at finding the words to answer Chris’ valid question.

“Baby, please talk to me. What do you mean ‘you don’t wanna do this… with me’?”

His heart is on the fritz. His mind is everywhere and nowhere. Chris decides to focus on what he sees, what is real, like that will do him any better. Seeing the soft lines of your face tensed into sharp, anguished angles and you’re hugging yourself so tightly only makes him want to replace your arms with his. 

To Chris, you’ve never seemed to need his help, though. You seemed strong, self-sufficient, self-healing, even. He loved and admired that about you. How you didn’t need, but just wanted him around. But if he thought too hard about it, it scared him. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you. He’s never really been sure of how much you wanted him. You also seemed to struggle with saying how you felt. The one thing he was probably too good at. The one thing he could help you with. 

But he’s the one who’s got the two of you thousands of miles away from each other. Now, you’re having this make or break your relationship discussion over FaceTime. He doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to jump in. Might not be the worst thing in the world, considering all his efforts of jumping to “make things right” in the past few months have landed you both in your current situation.

His options are limited now. It feels like his hands are tied behind his back, and you’ve got your finger on his chest. Will you use the slightest force to push him away forever, or open your palms and bring him closer to you?

Chris is trying his best to maintain composure, but his voice is giving him away as he asks one last time, ‘what do you mean?’.

You, too, are trying to remain composed.

You’re not entirely sure what you meant, but felt compelled to say it. You’re trying to be vulnerable and let your heart speak for once, so aware of the discomfort in your chest that your arms are crossed tightly over it. You weren’t one to let your heart move on it’s on volition, finding it smarter and more self-preserving to let your brain take the wheel. Your aversion mostly coming from what it makes you look like. Take your state at this moment: lip quivering, throat constricting, eyes burning, and rimming with tears. On the verge of being a mess.

You always hated when people cried in uncomfortable situations. “It’s a cheap shot,” you’d say, feeling like it wasn’t fair to make the other person feel bad. You refuse to cry. Instead, you screw your eyes shut, and take a few deep breaths. There’s an intense white noise in your head keeping you from thinking straight. Maybe taking a moment will give you some clarity.

After a few seconds, your senses come back to the room. You hear the rustling of wind outside the window in front of you, the hum of the A/C, and Chris shuffling on his end of this caustic call. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes just yet, but you found your bearings enough to speak.

“Ok…” Your eyes finally meet Chris’ eyes through the camera. He’s poorly holding back his pain in those ocean blue eyes of his. You consider backtracking, engaging your filter. You could ease his mind like always, telling him “never mind” or “it’s nothing”. You could just let him speak like always. He’s always been better with his words. You loved and admired that about him.

He always seems to know how to poetically and intellectually verbalize exactly how he feels, be it about a movie he’d seen, a tweet he read, a song he heard, a woman he loved. A woman he probably was tired of her tongue-tied bullshit. Not that you weren’t a little exhausted from his B.S. You could just let him break up with you, say “ok”, and go your separate ways. A nice, clean break. The hell it would be. You’d be wrecked, you just know it.

But your sister’s words from a moment ago ring in your head:

It’s good to feel. It’s okay to show it sometimes, too. Especially with the ones who showed and proved they won’t judge you for it.

Chris has never judged you. Maybe it’ll be ok to lose composure just a little, halt your filter for just a second or two.

“Chris, I don’t wanna do this with you— this acting like strangers, acting like nothing’s wrong. This hurting each other, but still holding on to each other? I don’t wanna do that to you. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. That I let contempt build up until I explode instead of just talking to you about what I was feeling. I understand if—“ you take a breath to keep calm and keep your emotive stride, “I know what you wanted to talk about, and I understand.”

“What do you think I wanna talk about?”

“I—” your filter kicks back in as you hold back your thoughts. Despite your front, you hadn’t fully come terms with it. Saying it would make it real, and you weren’t ready for that.

“You thought what?” His tone was slightly accusatory, causing you to cover your face with your hands, engulfing you in embarrassment over your doubts as you realize that ending your relationship was not what Chris wanted to do. You let out a baited breath, as you drop your hands. You had nothing to say, casting your eyes down to your twirling thumbs in your lap.

Chris’ eyes grow ever so slightly wider as his jaw relaxes and lips form into the slightest frown. “I would… I would never…” he stutters out. Chris goes to bring his hand down his face, a subconscious tick for when he’s exasperated, but stops short with the thought in his mind of germs and viruses and fucking Corona. He’s settled on a sigh, it all settling in the difficulty of everything in life at the moment. It’s exhausting.

You’re hurting. He’s hurting. It feels like a never ending cycle. But he’s determined to break the cycle. 

“Do you remember what I said that night in my kitchen? Back in December?” All you could respond with was a nod, your eyes still fixated on your lap. December’s events still left a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth, but with each passing day you were sure you were getting over it. “Well, I fucking meant it.” Slowly, you raise your head to your screen. Chris looks like a wounded puppy that’s still game to play.

“And I should be the one apologizing. Obviously I haven't been doing the best job of living up to my words from that night. I’m sorry.” Then you couldn’t help it. But what would one tear hurt? Chris clocked the tiny droplet streaking your glowing cheeks. His soft smile at it was so small and so brief before he continued. “I never meant to hurt you with my ignorance. But I did, and I’m doing the work and the reading to be better. What happened when you were here should’ve never happened, but I made it worse by not listening to you, really listening to you, and—“

“My love,” your voice stops Chris mid-ramble. That pet name. He hasn’t heard it from you in a long time. Too long, in fact. Hearing it now almost makes his heart burst. “You’ve got to stop beating yourselves up about it.”

“But aren’t you mad?” He was projecting. 

“Mad about what happened? Yeah, kinda. Mad at you? No… not anymore. I stopped being mad as soon as you did listen to me, really listen to me,” you echo his words. A small smile graces your lips, and you’re able to coax one onto his. For a moment it’s sweet. You then notice his smile disappear as the gears in his head start to overwork again.

“But then I did it again! With the shitty shit with my shitty friends. I’m sorry for my shitty friends.”

“I feel sorry for them too,” you joke with a tentative smirk.

Chris laughs, appreciating that you’re able to find humor in any moment. His chest feels a little lighter now. He thinks back to your earlier statement. “I agree; I don’t wanna do this. Cos it just feels like I’ll lose you, and I don’t want that. I want you. For as long as you’ll have me. Can you forgive me for all the stupid shit I’ve done in past few months?”

“As long as you can pardon my behavior as well.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you,” you stress to him.

Chris places his arms on the table, leaning into the camera, his gorgeous face taking up more of your screen. He’s got a sort of glossed over look in his eyes as he says matter-of-fact-ly, “I wish I could kiss you right now.” There’s no suggestiveness, just a statement of a very pure desire. Yet, your face heats up at his words. You take a quick glance down and bite your bottom lip to hide your smile. 

“It’s too bad you can’t.”

“I know, I know. That’s my own fault.”

“Not gonna fight you on that.” you lightheartedly say. At least you meant it that way. Although he should’ve expected it and is usually a good sport with digs, it still… stings. He grimaces and you know that it’s just too soon.

“But maybe…” your low, sultry tone brings his attention back to you, “you could…” you purr slowly and suggestively as you lean into your computer while pouting your lip.

Chris raises his brows as his jaw slacks. “Yeah…?” 

Your mischievous smile is met with his eager one. “KISS ME THROUGH THE PHONE?!” You belt out the familiar melody, shocking Chris to point that he jumps a little in his seat. You’re in stitches, clutching your chest. You hadn’t laughed this hard in a while. You get a good belly laugh out of Chris as well, his head tilted back, the glorious sound filling your ears as the sight of all 32 of his teeth please your eyes. His spirits are instantly lifted. You love that you can make him laugh like that, it satisfies a part of your soul you were unaware of.

The two of you come down some from your laughing fit. “Cute… real cute,” sarcasm never more evident in Chris’ voice.

“Hahaha you thought you were gonna get a show! Nope, buddy… not this time.”

There’s a quick quirk of his brows at the possibility of him getting to see you in all of your hot, sexy, naked glory. His mind gets lost in the last time he had you like that: your back arched, your nails dug into his back, your legs—

“Ahem! Eyes up here dude!”

“Oh my g— I’m—“

“You’re forgiven, you’re only human,” you smile at him coyly.

Silence settles around you, as you steal glances and smiles at one another through your screens. The air is free of pleas and sighs and stupidity and jokes. Hopefulness moves in for the first time in weeks, evicting the uneasiness that had made a home out of the deepening space between you two. You just watched each other, adoringly and longingly, watching your love for each other begin again.

Part 5

[soheila-1996]

My story- Part six

My little disclaimer:

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t.   Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate.  There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback is really appreciated! :)

Tagging people who shared the last  part. You don’t have to read it! I just thought you might want to see what happens: @kacie-0156, @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019, @bebepac, @kingliam-rys, @cordonia-gothqueen, @kimmiedoo5, @bbrandy2002, @loveellamae  @bobasheebaby @losingbraincellseveryday  @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @flutistbyday2020 @debramcg1106 @anotherbeingsworld @leaharhys @cordoniaqueensworld 

This is also part of wacky drabbles hosted by @emceesynonymroll The prompt this week is: #41: Can you move?

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: Mention Miscarriage, Suicidal thoughts, blood. 

Word count: 3541 

Catch up here

(Liam’s Pov)

The members of the council had been doing what they could to keep the country afloat so I could be with Riley and give her my full, undivided attention. 

The miscarrige had just broken her and there’s nothing I can do about it. It was my baby too, I’m devastated too but I’m too focussed on trying to be here for my wife that I haven’t let myself grieve over my loss. 

Riley is even more closed off now. She won’t leave the apartment or the bedroom for that matter with the exception of going to the bathroom or getting a drink now and again. She isn’t eating, barely drinking anything and now she has started to refuse to take her medication and so her seizures have multiplied. Which, too meant, I never left the apartment either. 

Our friends stopped by now and again but Riley would refuse to talk to them. Their visits were few and far inbetween since they had taken on my responsibilities of running my country. 

I just don’t know what to do anymore. 

Seeing the person I love more than anything like this is breaking my heart. Riley didn’t want anyone to know and so I haven’t told anyone. There’s no one I can talk to about it because Riley wants to pretend that it never happened. I can’t begin to imagine how she feels but I know ignoring it and pretending it didn't happen isn't going to help in the long term. 

It’s hard seeing anyone you love struggle with anything but...this is like a sadistic form of torture for me. Or a nightmare that I just can’t escape.

I just wish that I could do something to make this better. 

(Riley’s POV) 

It’s my fault. 

It’s all my fault.

 Liam has tried to tell me otherwise but it doesn't work. Of course it was my fault. There’s no one else to blame. No one else I can blame because it was solely my responsibility to look after our baby and I failed to do that. I’ve been so careful. I’ve done everything I was supposed to do and I still couldn't prevent this. 

I’ve hurt Liam too. He’s devastated even though he won't admit it. 

The last few days have been pure torture. How do I grieve over someone that I never got to meet or hold?

I don’t feel like I deserve to feel sad. My husband has told me so many times that my actions didn’t cause this but we’ll never truly know why this happened. At least last time  I knew it was me that caused it but this time we don’t…

I don’t know how to explain to Liam how I’m feeling. I feel almost...Numb. I don’t care anymore. The baby had been the one thing that was stopping me from doing something stupid and now I don’t have it. 

Anxiety.

 Panic. 

Sadness. 

Guilt. 

All of these emotions are swirling around in my head. Sometimes all these thoughts and feelings are so loud that I can’t hear or focus on anything else but them.  It’s true that no one else can kick you harder than yourself.

All of it leaves me feeling utterly exhausted. I should be helping Liam with running our country, being a good wife, instead I’m useless because I can’t just get it all together. I feel like a failure.

I opened my eyes and sat up in my bed. I can hear birds tweeting outside so I realise it must be reasonably early in the morning stil.

Last night was awful. I had a seizure earlier in the night not long after I had gone to bed, I had fallen asleep for a little while after but woke up and couldn’t seem to fall back asleep after that. 

Liam isn’t beside me. I’m not surprised by that. Our relationship is starting to fall apart, it’s like it’s fraying at the edges. I don’t really know how else to explain it.  I just want everything to go back to how it was. 

I decide to lie here for a little while longer. I’m tired and what’s the point of getting up anyway? 

I’m just about to drift off when I sense someone in front of me and hear a glass be placed down on my bedside table. I opened my eyes, I saw  a glass on the side and a couple of pills beside it. 

I rolled my eyes and turned to lay on my back. When is he going to get the message? 

“Please take them,” I heard Liam’s voice say. I felt the bed dip as he took  a seat beside me. “Love?” 

“Just leave me alone,” I demanded in a tired voice. 

“Please.” I don't respond and he sighs. “You’ll keep having seizures. I know how much they scare you so-” 

“I’m not taking them,” I insisted. 

“It's dangerous to just stop taking your medication,” he reminds me. I already know that, I feel like crap. 

I roll back onto my side and side up with the intention of  getting out of the bed but he’s in the way. “Can you move?” I asked, my voice monotone. Liam raised a brow.

“Where are you going?” 

“I need to shower. Is that okay with you?” I asked, harshly. An unusual bite in my tone. He doesn't say anything as he gets up. I don’t say anything and head out of the bedroom toward the bathroom.

(Liam’s POV)   

It’s a little while later after Riley woke up, I’m sitting in the study after just finishing  a call. I was only down the hall from the bathroom where Riley currently is. My ears perked up  when I heard a bang. I tried to rationalise it. Maybe she just dropped something but that hope is promptly dashed away when it continues. 

I stand up from the desk and head toward the bathroom. I soon arrive at the door, I try to turn the handle but it’s locked. I knocked on the door. 

“Riley,” I called. I got no answer and my heart sank.

Not again. 

I tried to open the door one more time before stepping back slightly and bringing my leg up. I brought it down against the door as hard as I could. The wood splintered around the frame and the door swung open. 

The shower is still running but I can't see Riley in there. I move closer and my wife’s contorting body on the floor is now visible through the glass panels. I move quickly and throw open the door. 

There isn't enough room for me to kneel down beside Riley in the shower so I gently and very quickly move her out to lay on the tiles. I  know moving her isn’t the most ideal thing to do but there's no way I could get to her. 

I turned her over to her side and retrieved two towels off the back of her door to put one under her head and the other over her naked form. I looked down at my watch as the seizure continued. 

A little bit of blood tinged spit started to leak from the corner of her mouth and down onto the bathroom tiles below her. I used the corner of the towel that was under her head to wipe it away. 

I hate this. 

It was about to hit the three minute mark and she had just started to slow down. It only took a few more seconds for her seizure to come to a halt and her body to relax. 3:30 seconds- I made a mental note of it. 

Once I was sure she was alright I stood and switched the sower off before sitting back down beside her.

(Riley’s POV) 

Fear sat deep in my stomach as my eyes fluttered open. 

Where am I? 

Why am I all wet? 

My eyes drifted down to the floor. There’s a hand sitting just by my face, which I soon discover is my own when I wiggled my fingers. 

Why am I on the ground? 

I somehow found the coordination needed to place my palm flat on the floor, I wanted to sit myself up, I tried to push myself up but it’s no use. I’m too weak to do it. 

I’m wet and cold- that’s all i really know right now. 

I can see another hand sitting in front of  my face which is soon discovered is also mine. Beyond my hand  there I see some shoes that most certainly do not belong to me. 

It’s a person. Right in front of me.

I try to scoot away but I don’t get far. 

A wall of disrupted, muffled sound hit my ears as I continued to shuffle away from the stranger beside me. 

“Riley, you’re okay,” someone told me quietly. Sound is a whole new thing to me and their words don't make sense. 

I start to panic and my fight or flight reflex kicks in. I rustle on the floor and try to get away from the figure in front of  me, but the most I can manage to do is withdraw.I just don't have the coordination to get away. 

“It’s okay, Love.” I recognise that voice, I realise but nothing truly makes sense to me. “You had a seizure but you’re okay now. I’m here.”  

The figure comes closer to me and I try to hit it away, punching and whimpering.

“Riley, it’s alright,” He called out to me but I still continue to try and fight. 

I need to get away. 

The figure blocks my weak hands as I throw them through the air.  “Shhh, it’s okay.”

Sound becomes clear to me now and all I could hear properly is my heart pounding in my chest. I listen carefully, I hear water dripping? 

Where am I? 

The floor is cold beneath me. It almost feels like bathroom tiles. I don’t understand what’s going on. 

Why am I wet? 

Something is laying on top of me. It feels almost like a towel....What is going on? 

The more I think about my weird surroundings the more panicked I become the more I try to wiggle away but i don’t have full control over my body yet, my limbs feel heavy. The hands encircling my wrists as my arms are still in the air tighten slightly. 

I’m tired. 

“Riley, It’s okay.” That voice. I know that voice...

Liam. 

I stop moving. I’m safe.  

“It’s Liam, Love,” Liam tells me. Confirming what I already thought. “You’re okay.”

I looked at him, taking in his features and trying to put it all together. My vision is starting to become clearer. 

“Li?” I questioned quietly. 

“It’s me,” He reassured me, “You’re safe.”

I respond by relaxing and bringing my arms back down beside me. Liam gives me a small smile. 

“W-what happened?” I ask. I really don’t remember anything. I think I was in the shower but i don't even remember coming  into the bathroom. 

“You had a little seizure.  I know you’re confused,” He explained  to me sweetly, “but you’re alright.” 

 “Why am I wet?” I ask in a tired voice. 

“You were in the shower.” 

I nodded. I now have better control over my body and sit myself up. I wince slightly at the pain in my left arm. Liam looks down at me and cocked his head. “Are you alright?” 

I nodded as I turned my head and twisted my arm so I could look at the back of it where I’ve already figured out the pain is coming from. There’s a big bruise starting to form like I had suspected. 

“I’m tired,” I mumbled, letting out a yawn and forgetting about my arm. Liam got up to his feet and hooked one arm under my legs and the other around my back. I want to argue with him but I’m too tired too. 

He gently places me down on our bed and helps me change into a clean pair of pjs. It doesn't take me very long after I’ve changed to drift off to sleep. 

It was the next morning, i woke up my muscles ache and my mouth sore. 

When I was a teenager and my epilepsy wasn’t very well controlled I used to be elated when I woke up in the morning because I was so scared I'd have a seizure in the night and not wake up but now...I just feel disappointed? I don’t really care If I wake up anymore . 

I threw the blankets off me to go in search of my husband. I padded down the long hallway toward my kitchen. 

I’m confused as I make my way down the hall as I hear two other voices besides Liam’s. They’re voices I recognise but...why are they here? 

I pushed open the door and saw Liam and my parents sitting at the table. They all turned to look at me. 

“Love-” Liam started but I cut him off. 

“You called my parents on me?” I asked in complete disbelief. “I’m not a child, Liam.” 

“I never said you were,” he said, getting to his feet along with my mom and dad. “ I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you and I don’t know what to do,” he explained. 

“So you decided to call my mom and dad to what? To come and scold me like a child?” I asked, my voice raising. 

Liam shook his head, “No. I-I don’t know what to do.” 

“You did the right thing, Liam.” My mother said as she put a comforting hand on my husband’s shoulder and turned to me. “Sweetheart, we’re all just worried about you.” 

“I’m fine,” I insisted with a shrug. 

“Ri-” Liam started to argue but my mother interrupted. 

“You’re not fine, Riley. We can all see that.” I opened my mouth but she continued speaking before I had the chance to. “You look-” 

“I’m fine,” I rebutted before she could continue. I know how I look, I don’t need to be told. 

“Why aren’t you taking your medication?” She asked me . 

“Because I don’t want to,” I replied, childishly . There are so many reasons. 

My mother sighed, “What is this going to achieve, Riley? We all love you and not one of us wants to see you like this.”  

“Why?” I asked, my voice monotone. 

My dad stepped forward, “If we didn’t care then your mother and I wouldn’t have gotten on the first available flight here, Liam wouldn't have called us.” 

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Ri?” Mom asked me. I looked down at my feet, I don’t really know how to explain this. “Is this because of the miscarriage?” she asked me gently. 

I looked to Liam with a look of betrayal on my face. “You told them?” 

She stepped forward so she was now standing directly in front of me. “Talk to me. No one can help you if you don’t tell us what's bothering you.” I tore my gaze away from hers in favour of looking down at the carpet instead. “I know what losing a baby feels like.” That gained my attention. I looked back up at her, I didn’t know anything about this. “It was before I got pregnant with Josh. I know how easy it is to blame yourself but It wasnt your fault.” 

“But-” 

“But nothing,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Some things are out of your control. I used to blame myself for your epilepsy. I believed that I had done something wrong to hurt you and that’s why it happened but sometimes there is no rhyme or reason for why things happen, they just do. Riley, this can’t happen again sweetheart, taking your medication isn't a choice, it’s a necessity. You have to take them.” 

“Please listen to your mom, Ri,” my dad spoke up, “Last time this happened, it could’ve ended very differently, you know that. Come on,  you know how  dangerous It can be not to take your medication.”

They looked to me both with a pleading expression. I swallowed thickly as I turned to look at Liam. “Please, Love.” 

On one hand I know they’re right. I know the risks, I know that my seizures will continue and probably get worse and I don’t want that, I don’t want to hurt my family in the process. On the other hand, I don’t care anymore. It’s all just too difficult and draining so i no longer have the energy to care. I feel numb. 

“I’m tired. I’m gonna go back to bed,” I mumbled and without another word head down the hall to my bedroom.

(Liam’s POV) 

We watch Riley walk away and neither of us make an effort to stop her. She’s made it clear that she doesn't want to talk and there’s little to no point in forcing her to. 

I turned back to look at my in-laws as Riley pushed our bedroom door closed.  “This has happened before?” I asked, dumfounded. I know that Riley has been through other hard times but...I never knew she had been this low before. 

Karol nodded. “Yes. When Riley was seventeen she had a boyfriend, Ben. “ I nodded. I knew vague details about that relationship. “She was at his house and had a seizure. He had recorded it and sent it to all of his friends- they relentlessly bullied her. Riley stopped taking her medication- we didn't know to begin with. We trusted her to take it. She had seizures everyday, sometimes more than once but we didn’t know why. Her epilepsy wasnt very well controlled at that time  but it had  never been like that, not since she was very, very young when she was first diagnosed. That Friday, five days after she had last taken her medication she had another seizure and It didn't stop. We were lucky that we were able to get her to the hospital so they could give her some medication to stop the seizure If we hadn’t...she could have died, Liam.” 

If I'm being completely honest, I don’t know how to feel. About any of it actually. 

“How did you get her to start taking them again.” 

“I don’t think she quite realised how important taking her meds were. The whole thing was terrifying for everyone involved,” Micheal explained, “The experience scared her and after that she always made sure to take them.” 

I can’t-” Karol’s sentence was interrupted by a loud  thump coming from our bedroom down the hall.  “What was that?” Karol asked, no one in particular. 

The three of us stayed silent as more thumping sounded from the room. 

“I’ll go and check on her,” I announced as I stood and walked down the hall. The closer I got to the door, the louder the thumping got. 

I have a bad feeling. 

Sadly, I was proved right when I pushed the door open and Riley was in the middle of the floor, her limbs flailing and her back continuing to relax and arch off the ground . 

I didn’t waste any time getting down onto my knees beside her and immediately turned her over onto her side. 

“Okay, it’s alright,” I whispered as I kept a hand on her hip to keep her in the right position as my other ran through her hair . 

I don’t know why but i still have a bad feeling. 

I always panic when this happens. It almost always brings  me to tears because It kills me to see this happen to my extraordinary wife and there’s nothing I can do to stop it but...it feels different, I can’t put my finger on why though.

Her phone was laying just on the bed so I quickly moved to pick it up to start the timer as soon as possible.

Just then, Karol popped her head in. “Is everything-” Her eyes widened when she caught sight of her daughter convulsing on our bedroom floor . 

Karol dropped down onto her knees opposite me and moved a strand of riley’s brunette hair out of her face. 

“Oh sweetheart,” She muttered. She looked up to me as Riley’s violent movement’s continued. “Have you started a-” 

“Yes, I've started a timer.” She nodded. Riley started gagging, Karol and I immediately reacted. I gently pushed her shoulder forward to ensure she was leaned forward enough that it would all come out of her mouth. 

Karol retrieved a hand towel from our en-suite bathroom and wiped the sick away. I hadn't noticed but Michael was now standing in the doorway. He could obviously see that we were handling it and decided to leave us to it. 

I looked down at the timer nervously, “It’s coming up on 4 minutes now.” 

“She’s not slowing down at all,” Karol said. I could hear the panic in her voice. Riley’s seizures rarely lasted this long, occasionally they would but normally she’d be slowing down but her jerking is just as violent as it was to begin with. 

“Let’s not panic,” Micheal said. I could see the pure fear etched across his and Karol’s face- I’m sure the same expression is written across my own. 

She should  be stopping or should have stopped by now. 

It felt like an eternity later but very little time had actually passed and now the timer was now over 5 minutes plus however long it had been going on before we arrived. Michael stepped out of the room to call an ambulance. 

“It’s okay, Love,”  I said quietly as I stroked her cheek, “We’re going to get you help. Its going to be okay.” 

I just kept talking to her, I don’t know what else to do. There's nothing I can do. I couldn’t stop a tear from slipping. I feel so utterly powerless. 

“I know you’re going to be pissed at me later when you find out we called paramedics,” I said, letting out a small chuckle through my tears. “We’ve  just got to make sure there is a ‘later,’ okay Love?” 

[theworldofotps]

I Fell For You (IFFYSM Part 2)

Part two for I'm Falling For Your Sister Man 

Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader Word Count: 1,254 Description: Finn finally tells you how he's feeling with a little help from Seth. -Fluff ____________ Tag list:

@biforbecky2belts @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @wrestlersownmyheart @the-beastslayers-queen @thewrestlingwarehouse @new-zealand-chic @reigns420 @sassyspacedust-deactivated20200 @burnitbalor @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @theeblueehazee @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know! __________ Finn's POV

"We should get something to eat and have a movie night in since none of us work tomorrow."

Y/n smiles as we walk with Seth down the hallway heading for the parking lot. We were supposed to meet there but she caught Seth and I right before we left the locker room.

"What are you in the mood for brat?"

Seth asks using the nickname he's had for her since they were kids she hums swinging their hooked arms.

"Pizza."

"Think we can find a healthy version for Finny Boy over here?"

"You can't have carbs just one night?"

She asks looking over at me grinning I shake my head as we step outside heading for the rental car.

"Will you eat flat bread pizza? There's a pizza place not that far from the hotel it sells gourmet five cheese flatbread and the bread only has fourteen carbs."

"I'm not sure."

"Please Finn, please? I'll even get up with you at seven to work it off! I don't ask for you to have cheat days that often but I really want to have a cheat night with two of my favorite guys."

"Would it really mean that much to ya?"

I ask trying to remain strong y/n comes over wrapping her arms around mine nodding her head. I glance at Seth who smirks as we come to a stop in front of the car, sighing I agree nearly falling back when she hugs me tightly.

"Easy there brat don't break him."

"Shut up Seth."

We both mumble when she pulls away Seth throws his head back laughing as we load everything into the car. 

"Hey wait up guys, you have room for one more?"

Turning I spot Braun walking towards us with his bag in hand I smile waving him over.

"Could I get a ride with you to the hotel? I was supposed to ride with Chad but he ended up leaving early he wasn't feeling so hot."

"Sure thing man hop in the passenger seat y/n can sit in the back with Finn."

"You promised I could sit up front!"

"I know but Braun has longer legs then you don't worry Finn loves when you're his riding buddy ain't that right man?"

Glaring at Seth I nod as y/n turns to me smiling with a questioning look on her face.

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all love hop on in."

Holding the door for her I slide in after her Seth sends me a wink as we all get in heading for the hotel. Y/n scrolls through Twitter quietly laughing to herself when she sees a funny tweet or video.

"Finn watch this."

Scooting closer she holds her phone close so I can see, resting her head on my shoulder she presses play. We awe over the video of puppies playing in the snow Seth soon pulls up at the hotel.

"Thanks again for the ride guys I really appreciate it."

"No problem man anytime hey Finn, y/n I need to use the bathroom think you two could go get dinner then meet me in the room Finn and I are sharing?"

"Sure thing Sethie lets go Finn."

Pinching Seth's cheek y/n laughs as he swats at her I chuckle as she darts a little ahead of us to keep him from getting her.

"Tell her Finn."

Looking at him I bite my lip he gives me a reassuring smile y/n turns around waving me to follow her.

"Come on Mr. Abs lets go I'm hungry."

"You shouldn't have ran so far ahead."

I grin catching up to her we walk the few blocks to the pizza place thankfully it was pretty empty. Giving our order we sit at the chairs they have on the side since it's about fifteen minutes I watch out the window at the cars passing by.

"Hey Finn can I ask you something?"

"Sure ya can lass."

"We're good friends right?"

"Yeah, basically best friends."

"An you would tell me if something important happened in your life?"

"You should know you're one of the first people I tell."

"I overheard Seth on the phone earlier today he was talking to whoever and was saying he hoped that you would finally tell her that you had feelings for her. I didn't know you were crushing on someone and I wanted to hear it from you instead of ask him. Is there someone you have feelings for?"

Rubbing my hands over my jeans I nod my head scratching the back of my neck well it's one way to bring it up.

"Yes y/n I do have feelings for someone."

"Why didn't you say something silly that sounds like a big deal I've been stealing so much of your time these past few days that you could of been spending with her."

"Trust me it's fine I just wasn't sure how to tell her and then her brother asked me about it."

"You're friends with her family? That must be hard considering we all travel so much how does he feel about you having feelings for her?"

"Said it was about time I admitted it to him he's known for a long time."

"That must be impressive I'm surprised he could figure it out."

"Well, Seth is pretty smart."

I say watching her confused look before her eyes widen mouth falling open I grin nodding my head.

"We were talking about it earlier he told me it was time I said something to you and well y/n I'm falling for you. Everything about ya from the way you look ta first thing in the morning rolled over in bed or dressing out to kill for award shows. You're compassion for people despite the world not always being kind back.

I admire your hard work your determination in everything you do ya fascinate me. Make me laugh when I'm having a shit day or just being your goofy self always managing to make me smile. When I thought of telling you and you possibly wanting to distance yourself for a while scared me so I couldn't bring myself to tell you. But ya deserve to know that I'm crazy about you y/n and I love you."

Standing y/n takes my hand pulling me to my feet I wrap my arms around her when she buries her face in my chest sniffling.

"I never thought you would love me at least not as anything more than a friend when Seth hinted it was possible I just brushed it off. I didn't want to get my hopes up and then be disappointed your happiness and friendship are the most important things to me. I didn't want to ruin that I didn't want to lose you."

Tilting her head back I wipe her eyes cupping her cheeks in mine.

"What does this mean?"

"I love you too Finn and I don't want to be with anyone but you."

Y/n gently pulls my head down so our lips meet keeping my arms around her securely I kiss her back happily. 

"Love ya have no idea how long I've waited for that."

"Ditto."

She grins kissing me once more I take her hand in mine when our order is finally called each taking a box in hand we head out.

"Come on love let's go tell your brother he'll be pissed if he isn't the first to know."

"What a drama queen."

[loftyexecutor]

miscere

characters; sans, frisk (undyne, paps & toriel in the bg) wc; 3242 rating; t/m (deaths) notes; frisk’s first (pacifist) run, and sans... is confused. so is frisk

illustration by my wonderful gf, @lordknight​. link to original tweet

AO3 mirror

ko-fi if you wanna make my day

frisk steps through the threshold, eyes rowing from the golden-hued tiles to the arched windows. the stained glass panes in particular hold their attention. they have to stop for a moment just to appreciate how beautiful it is, the sun's rays warm on their face.

they stand there for so long, lost in their little reverie, that they barely notice sans standing between two pillars, hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

their face lights up, and a smile spreads across their lips.

"hi sans!" they sign.

the skeleton graces them with a strange look, his brow bones moving into an approximation of a scowl. frisk still wonders how that works. shouldn't bones be... you know... they suppose it doesn't matter. it certainly makes it easier to understand when sans is making a joke and grins at it himself.

this, however, doesn't sound like a joke.

"heya," he says, looking not at them, but almost through them. "you've been busy, huh?"

they tilt their head to the side, confused. they came straight here from the core.

silence stretches between them.

"so, i've got a question for ya. do you think even the worst person can change...? that everybody can be a good person, if they just try?"

frisk pushes away the urge to say that had been two questions, not one. instead, they just nod.

sans' frown deepens, somehow. "alright. well, here's a better question. do you wanna have a bad time? 'cause if you take another step forward... you are really not going to like what happens next."

frisk is confused.

this seems important, important like when sans took them to the restaurant (nevermind that they basically took him, with the way their gold just vanished, but still).

for a second they clutch their stick tighter, before shoving it unceremoniously into their pants' pocket. "i don't understand," they sign, "i need to get to king asgore."

they take a tentative step forward, eyeing sans carefully.

"welp. sorry, old lady," he mutters. frisk is yet more confused. does he mean toriel? what does toriel have to do with this? "this is why i never make promises."

and just like that, frisk's soul is yanked out of their body and laid bare for all to see.

their hands find the stick again and hold it to their chest, almost like a lifeline, like a dead piece of a tree is going to save them from a fight. like they've done the entire time they'd been stuck in the underground. sans seems to ignore them for a moment, basking in the warm light streaming through the windows himself, eye...sockets closed.

"it's a beautiful day outside. birds are singing, flowers are blooming... on days like these, kids like you..."

something happens.

frisk doesn't know what. sans opens his eye sockets, but there is no light behind them.

"should be burning in hell."

suddenly they're on the ground, their soul a sickly blue.

the tiles under them rumble.

they crack.

frisk is no more.

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

frisk steps through the threshold, eyes only skimming over the beautiful hallway before they settle on sans, standing between two pillars like he hadn't moved an inch.

their steps are tentative now, fingers worrying over the half-smooth bark of their stick. still, they sign a "hello, sans." their brows are drawn together, shoulders hunched.

they don't understand.

sans pretends to think, looking them over before grinning. "heya. you look frustrated about something. guess i'm pretty good at my job, huh?"

frisk tries to sign again, but their soul is yanked out again and they instinctively flinch, rendering whatever they were going to say moot.

sans' words cut deep. maybe even deeper than the first time, now that they're not as shell-shocked.

they still don't understand.

they fall to the floor, feel the tiles rumble. this time, they pick themselves up and narrowly jump over the bones coming from the floor.

and immediately get speared by a slew of bones coming at them from the side.

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

this time, frisk hesitates in the doorway.

they're not scared of fights. maybe a little. they're not scared of dying. maybe a little. maybe a little more than little.

they wish they knew why sans had attacked them.

they peek around one of the pillars to see him standing exactly where he'd been the last time, eye sockets closed as he enjoys the sun.

"hmm. that expression... that's the expression of someone who's died twice in a row," he says, without opening his sockets. "suffice to say, you look really... unsatisfied. all right. how about we make it a third?"

they realize, rather belatedly, that they hadn't said hello to him.

they only realize he's counting their deaths when they come face to face with a giant skull. it's too late.

the world turns white.

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

frisk steps from foot to foot.

their stick almost creaks under their grip as they hold it up to their chest. with a deep breath, they put it away and step into the hallway, steps echoing between the walls.

they sign a "hello."

again, sans regards them, though this time he does actually look at them. the fact that he's doing something different every time makes frisk's skin crawl with a chill. no one else had noticed that when they died the world rewound to bring them back yet. sans obviously does.

"hmm," he hums, pretending to think again. or at least frisk thinks he's pretending. if he knows what comes after, and before, he wouldn't have to think. "that's the expression of someone who's died thrice in a row."

silence falls, and frisk's heart isn't yanked out. yet. they take the moment to raise their hands.

"hey, what comes after 'thrice,' anyway?"

they shake their head before he can yank their soul out. "sans. why are you fighting me?"

the skeleton cocks his head to the side. "really, kid? i'd have thought you'd know all about exp and love. want a refresher before you help me find out?"

as if guarding their soul, frisk clutches at their chest. like that would stop sans from ripping it out if he wanted to. when he wanted to.

they nod.

"they're acronyms. exp stands for 'execution points'. a way of quantifying the pain you have inflicted on others." sans rattles off a lengthy explanation, but it clears up absolutely nothing. frisk hadn't hurt anyone.

...

maybe save for greater dog, when he tried to jump on their lap and they got a little too scared and pushed him off. then again, they made up for it in pets. they had hoped.

after his explanation, sans yanks their soul out and they're too slow to dodge one of the lasers from his skulls.

the world fades into white again.

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

they don't bother hesitating in the hallway this time. 'stay determined,' they remind themselves in their head, a mantra of sorts. if another voice joins their own to chant along, they try not to think about it. maybe sans will explain if they proceed further? it's with those thought that they stand their ground, shoulders hunched and stick by their side.

"hmm. that expression... that's the expression of someone who's died quice in a row. quice? frice? welp, won't have to use it again anyways."

it's still morbid that sans is counting their deaths.

this time they focus on the bones, eyes flicking back and forth. one grazes their upper arm, and it hurts.

when sans summons his skull-lasers, frisk barely manages to duck out of the way.

they pant with exertion, chest heaving. their stick is heavy in their hand. they can't bring themselves to raise it against sans. they don't know if sans knows this. not anymore.

"huh. always wondered why people never use their strongest attack first."

sans awaits their move, just like every other monster they've fought. for frisk, there is no choice.

they spare him.

next thing they know, bones rain down from above, and they don't see where to dodge.

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

"that's the expression of someone who's died five times in a row. convenient, huh? that's one for each finger. but soon... you'll need a cool mutant hand to count all of your deaths."

at this point, frisk thinks they shouldn't pay attention to the counting jokes sans keeps making. if they think about it too hard, they are forced to remember each attempt, and the phantom pain lingering from each one. but it's hard to, when it's what sans 'greets' them with each time.

"sans, please," they sign, to no avail. sans simply ignores them.

"it's a beautiful day outside. birds are singing-"

and then they're on the ground.

they'd like to pretend the bones don't surprise them, but that would be lying.

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

"that's the expression of someone who's died seven times in a row." please stop. "hey, that's good. seven's supposed to be a lucky number. who knows, maybe you'll hit the jackpot..." please, no. "and that number will multiply tenfold."

frisk's eyes sting as they try their best to dodge out of the way of incoming bones. the tips of their hair don't survive a laser blast, but otherwise they're in one piece.

maybe sans taunting them before he even throws the first bone is getting to them. they don't know. they don't know anything.

one slip of their foot on the tiles is enough for a barrage of bones to lodge themselves into their back.

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

they'd like to lose track of how many times it had been, but sans stubbornly makes that impossible. "hey, congrats! the big one-oh! let's invite all your friends over for a big shindig. we can have pie, and hot dogs, and... hmmm... wait. something's not right. you don't have any friends."

a chill runs down their spine. that hurts more than the bone that comes from below and pierces their leg. tears roll down their cheeks as they try to pretend sans is lying.

has sans ever lied? would he lie to them?

they have friends!

they do!

a hit from one of the lasers kills them again, now that they're unable to run.

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

they stand outside the hallway, fingers shaking as they fiddle with their phone. their first instinct is to call toriel, but just like every time, nobody picks up. their breathing is so loud it echoes now.

the phone almost falls from their grasp as they try to dial papyrus instead, the ringing tone almost taunting.

no one picks up.

this time they're crying before they even talk to sans. they still sign a 'hello,' to him, knowing it makes little difference.

"hmm. that expression... that's the expression of someone who's died eleven times in a row. well, give or take. there's nuance to this stuff. don't think i'll be able to count very well from here. count for me, ok? we'll start from 12."

frisk loses track as soon as they're caught by a stray bone while jumping over others.

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

they take to calling papyrus' number every time they reload. the call is never picked up, however.

true to his own word, sans had stopped counting their deaths, instead opting to just say 'let's just get to the point,' as if there was a point.

if there was, they can't see it.

they tell themselves to stay determined, but it's hard. each time they learn on of sans' attacks, or one of his tells, he gets them with something else. sometimes new, sometimes... not.

every single spare is met with more bones, more obstacles, more lasers. it's a test of endurance, and frisk is failing terribly.

they don't know if they even really mind the next time their soul is shattered in a flash of white.

------------------------------------------ 'help'

'please'

their tears hit the display of their tiny phone. it's a small wonder they'd even managed to write the texts. they can't get sans' remark about not having friends out of their mind.

would he chase them if they ran back to see? probably not, but on the small off-chance that he would, they don't want to get anyone else caught in their own problem.

though isn't that what they're doing, texting papyrus? how hypocritical.

they dodge two new attacks from sans before their next demise.

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

they wake up, they call toriel. they call papyrus. they send him two texts. they hold their stick in their left hand.

the bark on it is worn off to the point of being smooth under their palm.

they step into the corridor. they greet sans. they listen to him talk.

they die.

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

over, and over.

------------------------------------------ frisk wonders what would happen if they lost their determination. would they die and not come back?

why does that sound so good all of a sudden?

------------------------------------------ "hello," they sign at sans. "how are you?"

it seems to catch him off guard, but not for long. his eyes regard them as they swap their stick from hand to hand. "i'm great, kiddo," he says, grinning.

for a split second, they think they might be able to talk.

"i'll be even better when you're dead again."

they aren't.

------------------------------------------ "it's a beautiful day," they sign, "birds are singing, flowers are blooming... on days like this, kids like me, should burn in hell."

it should hurt. it hurts a little less when they're the one saying the words, if only marginally.

sans keeps frowning whenever they deviate from the 'script'. they did too, at the start, so it's only fair, right?

they're barely holding on, and they're forced to eat the slice of pie toriel baked them. they'd been trying to save it, to enjoy when they felt bad. it tastes delicious.

they start to cry again.

it makes them miss one of the bone walls and consequently get skewered, but... at least they'll get to enjoy their pie again.

------------------------------------------ they're slowly getting better at dodging sans' attacks. very, very slowly. and not counting all the times they die nigh immediately because they start crying.

every time they do, sans gives them this look. they don't know what it is.

they're still so confused.

------------------------------------------ they don't know why they keep sending those texts to papyrus. maybe they keep a little kindling of hope that he will show up, talk some sense into sans. or maybe undyne.

they'd welcome anyone at this point.

they're tired.

one try they don't do anything but sit in the doorway, hugging into their knees to their chest and crying into them. they're speared by a bone.

------------------------------------------ 'stay determined,' the voice in their head repeats. 'you can't give up!'

so frisk goes through the door, looks at their friend, gets their soul yanked out, and dies.

they might be close to their hundredth time. they're better at dodging by now. it doesn't mean much when one small misstep means their death, but on the other hand, sans isn't going anywhere, and they have infinite tries. or, at least that's what they think.

sometimes fatigue weighs so heavy on them they can't even raise their hands and greet sans. sometimes they try to strike up a conversation instead of just listening to sans say the same things. it never works, or, more accurately, it doesn't work for long.

they eat toriel's pie.

it's as delicious every time as it had been the first.

------------------------------------------ they spare sans every time they're allowed to do something. they don't want to fight. sometimes sans keeps attacking, sometimes he yells "get dunked on!"

this isn't one of those. he motions with one hand, the other still snug in his hoodie's pocket, and their body is flung up and down, side to side.

they're barely managing to dodge all the bones, and still freeze up for just a moment when they see his skull cannons.

they try their best not to cry when they eat toriel's pie.

they try not to cry when sans keeps on taunting them. "sounds strange, but before all this i was secretly hoping we could be friends," he says.

they flinch back so hard they get hit by one of the bones. their fingers grip their stick; their knuckles turn white.

they really thought they had been friends.

"i thought we were friends," they echo the thought, fingers shaking as soon as they're not wrapped around the stick's smooth surface.

sans chuckles.

frisk uses their turn to catch their breath, and force down the next wave of tears that threaten to spill from their eyes. when they're ready (when they wipe them with the sleeve of their sweater), they spare sans and try to prepare themselves for another barrage of bones. it's so hard to get the jumps right, bones graze them left and right, and their poison, or whatever they do to him when they hit home, makes frisk nauseous, but they push through. the next barrage they prepare to jump over, but...

"HUMAN! I HAVE SEEN YOUR MESSAGES! WHAT IS IT YOU NEED SAVING FROM?"

frisk whips their head around so fast they almost lose balance and topple over. sans' bones grind to a half in midair as he follows frisk's gaze. in the doorway stands papyrus, with undyne right on his heels.

"what's going on here! sans?" she asks, looking between him, his poised-to-strike bones and frisk.

"SANS, WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE? THE HUMAN MESSAGED ME THEY NEED HELP! ARE YOU HERE TO HELP TOO?"

sans gasps. "papyrus...? you're..." he mumbles. the 'alive' is on the tip of his (metaphorical) tongue, but it never makes it out.

frisk clutches their stick to their chest, protecting their soul as they run towards papyrus. they had tried to not cry. it didn't work.

"pap, no! get away from-"

frisk throws their short arms around papyrus' midriff, the fingers not busy gripping their favorite piece of broken wood tugging on papyrus' chestpiece. to say the skeleton is startled is an understatement. "HUMAN, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? I KNOW I AM THE ALL POWERFUL, ALL POPULAR PAPYRUS, BUT THIS IS UNLIKE EVEN YOU! HAVE YOU, BY ANY CHANCE, NOT GOTTEN OVER YOUR FEELINGS YET?"

frisk sniffles and shakes their head, but it has no effect when they've practically buried their face into papyrus' ribcage. instead, papyrus turns to sans.

"SANS, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

"yeah, i'd like to know too," undyne says, arms folded on her chest. "were you two... fighting?"

sans' outstretched hand falls to his side, and so, too, do his bones fade from midair. "i-- you... you're supposed to be dead."

undyne narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. papyrus scoffs. "WHY WOULD WE BE DEAD, SANS?"

sans balls his hand into a fist at his side. "because chara... killed you all."

undyne marches her way towards him and grabs onto the front of his shirt. "who's chara? why were you attacking my bestie?! only i can attack my bestie!" she bellows.

sans looks over where the kid is still hugging papyrus like their life depended on it. his brother is trying (and failing) to console them, with a hand on their head and ruffling their hair.

what... is going on?

their soul is still exposed. they're still in a fight. he checks them.

LV 1, frisk.

undyne lets him go in favor of calling alphys. papyrus is not good at consoling kids. they're trying to sign something to him, too fast and too jittery to make any sense.

sans is confused.

he feels his sin crawl on his back.

over

and over

again.

[dansnaturepictures]

7 of my favourite pictures to take in the past week 

Old Winchester Hill view*

Silver-spotted Skipper butterfly at Old Winchester Hill**

Another Old Winchester Hill view***

Autumn leaves out the front****

Berries at Lakeside*****

One of my favourite birds the Great Crested Grebe feeding its chick at Lakeside******

Heart and dart moth in the living room*******

(In order of appearance in this photoset) 

I have to first say that the last week was perhaps my most packed with photos of all time. Between Sunday 9th and Saturday 15th August I took or as I like to call it produced as I take different versions of the same photo when out and keep the best or don’t keep ones that don’t work out and that in total 174 photographs, averaging 24.85 per day. Extraordinary for me on a week I worked albeit from home most of it as I do currently, but actually this probably makes it my highest yielding week of photos ever and its been heading that way for a while with how many I now take forward of my photos. This all made, if I wanted to, saying my favourite photo taken this week hard. If I quote or reply to one of my tweets with that photo for me in on my Twitter Dans_Pictures nowadays I have to have a theme to link it to of the week, this week beside the sheer amount taken there were too many; a week of moths, a week of insects/macro photography headlined by butterflies at the start, a week of increased bird photos for this time of year there was so many. So then I decided to do one of my picture context posts I sometimes do usually on a Sunday morning about my favourite photo from the week before saying what I liked about it, how it came about and any other relevant thoughts, but in truth whilst I had one photo particularly in mind there were lots of candidates without blowing my own trumpet of what I liked best. So I instead decided to bring seven together, so effectively meaning I had on average a real standout picture per day even if some of these were taken the same day to each other. Not to say the the others were poor days as there were so many I overlooked. And below about each, I say a little bit. 

*The week started in the midst of a heatwave at Old Winchester Hill in the South Downs where we had a stunning wildlife and landscape walk. We come once a year these days to see particular butterflies and they are there because the meadow and grass here are booming with colour and life. I just simply had to take landscapes and show what I was seeing on an incredible height-of-summer day, and I simply had to show you the vibrant meadows. And this picture does this for me which is why I like it. On Sunday I produced 40 pictures so instead of tweeting them all and clogging my profile 10 of them I included exclusively in my blog as I do in such common circumstances as this now and this one was tweeted so its the first time I’ve posted it on Tumblr, as is the case for photos **, *** and ******* in this post. 

**The photo I had in mind for the post. This was whilst not the only the main butterfly we went to this place to see and did getting it as a year tick. The visit was all about this butterfly, and it couldn’t have gone better for it. Within minutes in the rich grassland we spotted this small, subtle but clearly marked butterfly and were feeling incredible. I’d seen one before this one. And then attention quickly turned to getting a picture of it with my macro lens that I use for butterflies to get closeup. I had never photographed this butterfly what I would call really well in terms of my butterfly pictures so all I wanted was something, anything, picture wise to show what it was and allow me to remember it. I was in for a real treat as I saw this one landed and as I said in my blog about the trip a week ago tonight I took little safety shots snapping it from afar in case it as it very likely could flew off. Then I was in my element as I was standing right over the butterfly, but I felt I couldn’t really get down onto it nicely without my prominent shadow scaring it off. So on a hot day I just got down on the floor and eventually almost lied there giving me the ability to move myself in the right position to take photos and get really close up to it. A marvelous thing for me and my Mum to do on the hottest of days. And I really liked this image. With my new (as of January) macro lens what it is good for it gave me I felt that quality and detail of the butterfly so much so that I compared it to my spring Green Hairstreak photo at Magdalen Hill my best butterfly picture with this new macro lens so far and one of my best ever butterfly photos. But this one also played to my senses. I think the colour of the butterfly, markings as well as the way the sun is hitting it makes it to the eyes what a sweet drink such as apple juice (a coincidence that I am drinking this as I write) does for the taste buds. It just gives me a real ripe and celebration of life feeling. And for me this is an ultimate summer image in a sense, one of my best butterfly moments of the year.

***Another of my standout landscapes from a set I was so happy with from Old Winchester Hill. What struck me when there and when reflecting of what was one of my best days of the year for wildlife and photography this week was that Old Winchester Hill is one of the most beautiful places in Hampshire. It reminded me of thinking this in the early days of us visiting here from 2009 onwards I believe before we knew what butterflies it held. The meadows are brilliant but what I like about this image is it sums up this rural beauty spot aura of Old Winchester Hill for me because what makes it that is those stunning views afar over the South Downs. I think this image shows the varied aspects of that well, but also still features a bit of the meadows that adorn and support the life of this incredible place. 

****A big theme of this week also were the autumnal leaves and other autumnal characteristics at home and further afield mostly to the backdrop of the hot and very sunny weather. I just loved photographing this, and this Tuesday shot a tree turning autumnal out the front to the backdrop of the bright blue sky is my favourite such image. I just love the glow and flavour and light it shows and it makes me appreciate it and feel very pleasant. Its the multi-colour that makes it so the fact some leaves are still the summer green adds to it well. It reminds me very much of a picture I took of some autumn leaves in August 2013 at Bath that were up against a blue sky. One of my best ever images, one that when I used to pick photos of the week and year from my photos I named my colour, water and macro (What I would go onto refer to as my minority subjects) photo of the year. It was one of my first I think real great autumn leaves photos within my standard of photos and down the years I’ve taken more and more. But nothing ever matched it for me one with the aspect of it up against the blue sky with the sun shining right on it and two with so many different coloured leaves until this one on Tuesday which made it very satisfying to take. 

*****Berries have also been a big point of my autumn sightings, perhaps my most prominent year for noticing various berries from summer into autumn this year. And I’ll never forget photographing these on Wednesday and seeing them. As I walked into the woods south of the bowl area my eyes just sailed over to this bright, prominent red on the floor. I simply had to go over and take a look, and I was thrilled to see these berries on a low plant when I did. It was a divine shade of my favourite colour red. With my macro lens on I could not resist a photo of these berries and I was pleased with how this came out. One of my most unique and memorable pictures this year I feel. It came in a strong theme of red this week, as in a lovely Facebook photo group I’m in ‘A Moment in Time’ their theme this week was photos showing red and I loved putting this and others for the walk and this week as I photographed stuff accordingly almost in for it.

******As I said a week in the season where birds are of less variety and about less I saw and photographed an increasing amount which was very pleasing supporting all the other wildlife I saw. I had many candidates for this post actually for birds. My birds of the past few weeks really have been one family, the Great Crested Grebe pair with their three adorable chicks at Lakeside Country Park beside where we live. I have had multiple goes at taking photos of them now, charting their journey so far and slight growth. I have always loved seeing this species one of my favourite birds here what a key moment in my whole birding and wildlife journey seeing them here for the first time aged 10 was. But its perhaps only the situation we’re in that I’ve been able to come over here so often to follow them this year that I’ve really connected to the family and I feel so lucky and amazed to have them so close. This photo I enjoyed taking. It was nice to watch the chicks in the binoculars and so close I could see them with my naked eye and see the adult coming in with a fish looking great on its own. I then got the camera ready and waited to pick the right moment to snap as their beaks came together and I just about managed it with the fish shown. Something I’d not always managed to time right these past few weeks with either my DSLR or bridge camera. I find this image interesting and pleasant to look back on. Like the autumn leaves it made me reminiscent of a past photo a 2015 shot of a Coot putting food into its chick’s beak at RSPB Radipole Lake which my Mum ended up printing on a mug for me as a present. So very pleasant memories. 

*******Finally one taken too late on Friday evening to appear in the blog then so another Tumblr exclusive now. A massive theme this hot week with evenings drawing in so with windows being left open and light glaring out in a good time of year for it anyway was that many moths have come into our house and I’ve photographed most with my macro lens. This was the peak moment, with four in the living room this Heart and Dart, a new moth for us paraded nicely around and landed right behind the telly. I got my macro lens and managed this picture. What I liked about it was that macro quality again I feel for me. Its one of my best moth photos this year and ever I think. I didn’t just compare it to my favourite moth pictures with this lens so far this year, but the butterflies too. The moth interest is a side interest coming alongside the butterflies over this past decade but I photograph butterflies more so my butterfly pictures are generally better. In the end it didn’t quite compare to the Green Hairstreak and co or even my Scarlet Tiger moth at West Wood in July as the light in our house is no match for the natural sunlight. But in order to make this picture, I think it came close. 

I hope for another great week ahead even if the weather has now changed and I wish you all the same. I am sorry my social profiles have been so packed this week! But thank you so much for your wonderful continued support again. This week certainly brings a build up to excitement in a very summery way for me, as instead of the Bird Fair that we would in every year since 2007 be heading to the brilliant Rutland Water we are using the Friday and next Monday I have off to go to Devon in the hope of seeing a Dipper and whatever else. I am looking forward to hopefully seeing some of the virtual Bird Fair though browsing through the events made me nostalgic of all the usual feelings I get when planning our days at the fair in a normal year. 

I am of course happy that the Bird Fair was cancelled this year it was the right thing to do in light of the Covid-19 pandemic and it simply would not have been safe to hold it especially given its international scope and it was an informed, correct, timely and sensitive call from the organisers. I hope the virtual events raises as much for the fundraising of the valuable projects it supports for Bird Life International. Whilst away in Devon I have no idea if they’ll be wi-fi or how good it will be in the cottage we’re staying in so I may have to post photos and blogs when home. I am excited to go to another part of the country I hold very dear. The Dipper would have been a target in our postponed June North Wales holiday so its very much a nice option of somewhere to perhaps try and salvage something to enjoy this lovely long weekend we have ahead once I get to Thursday. I hope you all stay safe and enjoy the next week.

[another-sonic-blog]

Because you are light...

ShadAmy

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In the middle of the vast land of Central City, our tragedy evolves. The falling snow was covering houses and buildings. It was hard to walk but Shadow made it a priority to see her.

He had a rough week and had no inspiration whatsoever and it was weird even for him to be in such state

"Look at that scar, no wonder he is always in a bad mood...He knows he is going to end up alone."

"And those horrible red eyes! He is the son of the devil!

"He is just...so ugly!"

Shadow really tried not to let those things get to him. He would try and own his defects. His scar that marked his face permanently and his red eyes that were frown upon by everyone.

And he accepted the fact that no person would ever fall in love with him.

"Hey, Shadow!"

His inspiration came back to him as soon as he saw her.

How beautiful she looks under the moonlight. She was the fairest of the fairest. Her graceful self moved along the rhythm of the falling snow and-

"Shadow, are you alright?"

Oh, shoot! He let his mind wander off.

"Yes, I am alright. How are you?"

"I am ok but I've been hearing some rumors that a war may break out soon...it's kinda been on my mind."

Shadow walked alongside Amy. Never touching her, he didn't want her to be disgusted by him.

"Don't worry about it, as long as I am with G.U.N., nothing like that will happen." He reassured her. Shadow was currently working for G.U.N for some time now. Shadow would get out of work at 7:00 PM. While Amy closed her coffee shop at 8:00 PM. Shadow walked every day ah hour so he could walk with Amy home. Of course, he could make it in a few minutes with his speed, but he preferred to walk by the flower shop and send some flowers to Amy anonymously.

"You are Shadow the Hedgehog, even if you weren't working for G.U.N., you would stop any war that's coming out way." Amy smiled at him and Shadow tried to hide his evident blush by covering himself with his scarf.

"Also, I heard rumors that G.U.N. called Sonic to the headquarters and well I was wondering if you-"

"Sonic's whereabouts is classified, only top agents know about that," Shadow said a bit disappointed that Amy wanted to talk about Sonic.

"Yes, that's why I am asking you since you are G.U.N's top agent..." Amy blinked cutely and smiled at him. "...Please?"

Shadow sighed, he just couldn't say no to her. "All I can say is that he will be arriving any minute now."

"Thank you, Shadow!" Amy added, "But, you said that there was nothing to worry about. That there would be no war...so why call Sonic?"

"G.U.N.'s protocol requires to take precaution. It's just in case anything happens but a way happening is very unlikely."

Shadow noticed that Amy's expression had changed. Her eyes looked down to the ground as she walked next to him. She was clearly worried,

"I promise you that even if there's a war, I'll stop it," Shadow said as he tried to cheer her up.

"That's not the thing...I am scared that you or Sonic...I am scared that something may happen to you both. Last time, you got that scar because of-"

"What happened that day wasn't your fault, it was mine...so don't feel bad."

The snow kept falling around them, getting heavier and heavier. The street bulbs were their only source of light. However, that was enough for Shadow to appreciate Amy's beauty.

"It's just...that I wouldn't know what to do if you were gone."

And that sentence was enough for Shadow to appreciate her soul.

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.

.

Shadow had finally arrived at his luxury apartment, the lights turned on by himself as he walked into the living room. The jumped into his large black coach as he appreciated the view of the city under him.

His apartment felt cold, and Shadow called for his intelligence system instinctively.

"Hey, Soogle, higher the temperature by 5 degrees,"

"Yes, Mr.asshole."

That's when Shadow knew, he wasn't alone.

"Alright Sonic, come out," Shadow sighed.

"Oh well, I tried," Sonic said as he came out of the kitchen, taking off the white blanket he had on to pretend to be a ghost. "I will scare you one of these days, I promise."

"Don't even bother...Anyways, shouldn't you be with Tails?" Shadow said as he turned on the TV, immediately the news channel popped up. Shadow's mug shot came out on the TV, the news anchor praising him on his past successful mission.

"I don't want to wake him up at this hour, so I decided to bother you instead?" Sonic jumped into the other side of the sofa, making himself comfortable as well. "Seemed like you been busy yourself." He added as he watched the news.

"The usual." Shadow simply said."You have been active as well as I can see."

The news now showed a vide of Sonic, coming out of Eggman's Headquarters, destroying everything.

"...The usual,"

A few seconds passed before Sonic proceeded, "So...How's Amy?"

"How would I know?"

Shadow lied, of course, he knew how Amy. But Shadow didn't want for Sonic to know that he had a soft spot for the pink one.

"I asked you to keep an eye on her remember?" Sonic said a bit annoyed. Before he left two years ago, he asked Shadow to watch over Amy and he was hoping he kept his promise.

"Oh yeah...She is fine. She's doing good at her cafe, walks home alone as far as I know."

"At this hour?" Sonic gave it a small thought. "I know this is too much to ask but... would be ok if you could walk her home once in a while?"

"If you worry about her so much, why don't you do it yourself?" Shadow asked.

"I am...shy."

"Really, Sonic?"

"Look, I really like her, alright?... But I am scared that I will say something stupid and mess everything up."

"Then, why don't you write to her? Maybe a poem? That would suit her better." Shadow said as he changed channels from the TV. Trying to play it cool.

"Shadow, I didn't go to school. I barely know how to read and write. Amy would never accept me if she knew I was that stupid...She's so smart."

"It doesn't have something "literally" smart. Just express what you feel." Shadow then sat down properly and picked up a notebook and a pen from his table. "Look, maybe you can start by complimenting her looks."

Sonic got closer to Shadow, wanting to see the things Shadow was about to write. "Complimenting her looks?"

"Yes, like how her eyes shine when she makes coffee, or how her hair glows with the sunlight," Shadow said without thinking.

"Oh yes! I like um...I like how loud she laughs! She sounds like a bird" Sonic said as he smiled at the thought.

"Oh, yes! She sounds like one of those singing birds," Shadow thought for a little. " We can write that as...your laugh is like the tweeting of birds, that I am happy to hear every day as I wake up."

Shadow finished writing that down as he nodded, happy at his work "Now, what do you feel when you see her?"

"I...feel really happy...and I feel um...cheerful?"

Sonic struggled to find the right words and this is were Shadow came in.

"Ok let's see...Your existence brights up my life...Although I live in darkness, you are the light that guides me through the night..." Shadow was actually liking what he was writing and without asking for any other opinions, he kept going, "Even when I know that my fantasizes could never become true, I will stay at a timeless state of bliss as long as I get to hear your laugh, to see your blinding smile...Because you are light...and I am your eternal shadow. "

Shadow finished writing, letting his feelings take the best of him. He realized that Sonic was at awed and played it cool. "Or you can write something else."

"I think that what you wrote fits my situation perfectly! I'll give it to her tomorrow...I hope she likes it."

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.

.

Shadow greeted Amy as he received his cup of black coffee. Amy was the owner of the most popular coffee place in the city. "Momo Cafe" in honor of her famous black coffee with peach flavor.

"Hey, Shadow, I love that you come every day to buy coffee from me but...don't you think you are having too much coffee?" Amy asked over the counter.

"I am fine, I don't get addicted to things." That was true, but the real truth was the Shadow hated coffee. But he loved to see her. Eventually, he grew to like the black substance. "And besides, you always give me discounts"

"As if you need any of them," Amy smiled. She knew that Shadow was living his best life. Young and millionaire.

"Also, today I received a love letter!," Amy added as she took her apron off and walked with Shadow to a small table and sat down in front of him.

"Really? Well, that seems a bit weird coming from So-"

"I know right! But I got to admit that this persons' words really flatter me..." Amy made a pause. "The way he writes...I feel I like I know him like we know each other...I know it seems weird but his transparency has really gotten my attention."

A friendly reminder to self: Kill Sonic next time I see him.

"So, you have no idea who wrote that letter?" Shadow asked he took a big gulp of his coffee.

"No, but I feel like it might be someone I know...may be someone from work? A past friend maybe?"

Amy then gasped in realization. "Shadow...it's you!"

Shadow immediately spilled his coffee and Amy laughed.

"Haha, I am kidding! You should have seen your face!" Amy was able to get air to her lungs after laughing so much. "But hey, it wouldn't be so bad if you were to express your feelings for a girl through a letter."

"I don't have time for such things," Shadow said a bit offended and annoyed.

" Come on Shadow! I am sure there's someone who you like...maybe someone from work?" She noticed that he sounded different, but decided to proceed anyway, it was Shadow after all and being angry was his thing.

"No and honestly even if I was interested in someone, they would never look my way."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You perfectly know what I am talking about."

Amy, of course, knew. However, she wanted to prove a point. "No Shadow, I don't know what you are talking about, so please do tell me what's wrong with you?"

"My goddamn eyes are red Amy! We perfectly know that only the devil has them! But maybe that shouldn't be much of an issue if it wasn't for this damn scar that I got when-"

Shadow stopped himself. He was about to cross a line he didn't want to with Amy. But he was tired that Amy pretended that Shadow was fine. He hated that she didn't acknowledge the truth. He was horrendous.

"When you what?" Amy's voice got louder. She wanted Shadow to say everything that he was feeling, even if he screams and gets angry at her. "Tell me Shadow!"

Shadow stood up from his seat and looked down at Amy. "Would pay attention to me if I were to tell you I have feelings for you?"

Amy stood quiet, not expecting that reaction nor questions from Shadow.

"That's what I thought."

Shadow grabbed his jacket and left the cafe.

.

.

.

"Please, Shadow!"

"No."

"Please! I promise that I will tell Amy how I feel but please I just need you to keep writing more letters for me...please!"

Shadow had finally made it back to his apartment after a terrible day. He had never fought with Amy before like that and to be honest, he wasn't angry at her. He was angry at himself for letting himself get like that. It wasn't Amy's fault that he looked the way he did. The sad look on his face when he left her would not leave his mind. And now, Sonic was asking him the impossible from him.

"You didn't even sign the letter," Shadow added.

"Because I wanted to make sure that she liked it first! Now that I know she likes it, I can get her heart just by sending letters and when I am sure she is totally in love, I tell her it's me the one who wrote them!" Sonic got closer to Shadow, "Please, Shadow...I am only asking this of you."

Shadow gave it a thought. Maybe his request wasn't so bad. He knew for a fact that he would never be able to confess his love for Amy. And even if he could, Amy would just reject him and he preferred to keep his heart away from that. If giving Amy letters was the only way to keep his feelings at bay then so be it. Besides, Sonic was a good guy, if Amy falls for him, then Shadow would be more than happy than to see her with him. Even if it pained him.

"Fine, I'll write you letters for her," Shadow said as he sighed. "Besides, what's the worst thing that could happen?"

"It's a deal then! And don't worry, I'll help you out too!", Sonic said enthusiastically.

"Help me? With what?"

"In today's meeting at G.U.N...I saw you talk too much with Rouge...You like her, don't you?" Sonic winked at him.

"She's my partner, I need to talk to her."

"Yeah, but not that much."

Shadow grabbed his glass of wine as he sighed. Honestly, he just had too many things going on today and conversing with Sonic wasn't on his favorite things-to-do list.

"Yeah, whatever you say," He said as he took a sip of his wine.

"I knew it!"

And with that, Sonic began to formulate his plan. A plan that will leave them to their downfall.

And with this, our tragic love story begins.

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A/n: This story will be based on the famous literary french story: Cyrano of Bergerac. If you know the story or the ending, please don't spoil it for the rest. If I see enough support, I'll continue to write :) Thank you!

[lysung]

Wabi-sabi (part 1)

Genre: angst, fluff (in the upcoming chapters :))

Pairing: Minsung (Jisung + Minho)

Words: 2,750

Summary: Wabi-sabi means imperfect or incomplete beauty. This is a central concept in Japanese aesthetics, which comes from Buddhist teachings on the transient nature of life. A pot with uneven edges is more beautiful than a perfectly smooth one, because it reminds us that life is not perfect.

Han Jisung and Lee Minho are two average high schoolers who have differences in common; two of them are being from the other high schoolers are being a part from the LGBT community and too thoughtful in an unhealthy way, besides many other things society would see as "flaws". After accidentally knowing each other through Twitter, they eventually became best friends but both of them still had colorless and monotone lives outside internet, until that, someday, one of them is about to get beaten up for being LGBT and the other one defends a random guy from getting beaten up by one of his best friends.

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, depressive thoughts

A/N: hello! i'm alexis and this is my first au :) i know this blog is supposed to be a fluff imagines blog, but i've been feeling like writing some ansgt lately. i hope y'all don't mind it ^^ i've worked hard on this since it's my arts homework as well, so i didn't have all the time to write this, but i did write it on my pace and, honestly, im still a bit unconfident about this one. if this gets a great reaction, i will definitely continue this asap ❤️ i hope you enjoy and please leave a heart and/or reblog, it would help me a lot and make my day 💕

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Legend says that, as soon as you’re born, you get a red string tied to your finger, connecting you to someone you’re destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The string may stretch or tangle but it will never break.

Han Jisung always found the Universe majestic but crazy at the same time. Isn’t it weird how everything happen as it wills? Or, maybe, would it be They? Who is in control of the universe, if there’s someone with such power? Would they be God? But who is God, actually? Is there someone above God? — This kind of thought dominated the teenager’s mind every once in a while and, when it did, it would always keep him up at night. The thought of living his own life but, actually, being controlled by a divine existence, would scare him sometimes.

But, the thing is: the Universe, be it "it" or "they", never did anything out of the blue. Everything happens for a reason; whether if we trip or fall, cry out of pain or laughter, fake or genuinely smile, nothing happens “just because”. And we live to grow up as individuals and learn each and every lesson “it” has to teach us, even the small and silly ones.

Laid down on his bed, Jisung, who strongly believed in such legends, turned off his phone and stared at his dark-ish room’s ceiling, slightly bright thanks to the street lights outside.

These thoughts were, once again, haunting him. All he could do was wonder 3 things: What is he supposed to learn? Why? And, specially, who is going to help him?

These thoughts were soon replaced by self depreciative ones as soon as he looked through the window and noticed the sun rising. He would soon have to be up to get ready for another monotone day of school. He turned around, his back facing the windows, closed his eyes and, one more time, tried to fall asleep. But, as time passed, his thoughts wouldn’t go away; neither his usual philosophical thoughts or the self depreciative ones. There were hundreds of voices screaming in his head – some were calling him, some sounded mad, you would be afraid if you could hear them too. And when he least expected, his alarm ranged, meaning not only it was time for him to get ready for school, but also that he lost another fight to his strong mind.

Later that morning, during class change, he noticed 3 of his seniors in the other side of the corridor. Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix were staring at him and laughing out loud; he tried to ignore them and got his material for Math class. Walking to his classroom carefully, trying his best to avoid them, but they eventually came to him and Changbin pinned him to the nearest locker.

"Where are you trying to go, you shameless fag?" Changbin, their "leader", said to his face in provocation.

"Leave me alone, Changbin. Mind your own busin-" The younger tried to say and break free from his strong grip, but failed and was cutted out by Changbin.

"What are you gonna do? Are you gonna run away? Huh?" The oldest said, the provocation never leaving his tone.

Jisung was speechless. The small anxious boy didn't know what to do — should he fight back? Say something mean to them? Run away? He was totally alone and lost; there was nothing he could do.

"What is going on in here?" A high-pitched voice echoed through the, now, empty corridor, and, right next to them was the school's principal, looking pissed off as usual.

"Oh, nothing, Mrs. Kang! I was just... just... asking him how he'll go back home after school, so that I would know if I should take him home or not, hehe! I love this guy, Mrs. Kang. You have no idea how much I lo-"

"Detention. The 4 of you. And, Mr Seo, I'll let you go this time but, if you ever try to lie to me again, it's detention for a whole week. No buts." Mrs. Kang said and left, cutting Changbin's excuse off and getting a sigh from each of them in response.

"Listen up." To turn back to Jisung was the first thing Changbin did as soon as Mrs. Kang left. "I will get you and teach you how to behave like a real man, annoying faggot. Wait for it." Changbin threatened again, looking deep in Jisung's eyes and left. He watched their figures get smaller as they walked through the long corridor, fear and regret as evident in his eyes than never. Changbin had something in his eyes that made Jisung even more confused and lost.

As soon as the group had finally disappeared, Jisung bursted to the school's restroom without looking back, not being able to hold back the tears. Poor boy wouldn't make it to Math today and he was very aware of it.

This was just a tiny bit of Jisung's daily life, but it always shattered his heart in a billion pieces. He wondered, how can people be this heartless? Why are people like this to people like him, who were just born "different"? What's so wrong in being different? In being yourself? In loving someone, not minding their gender identity? What did Jisung do to deserve to live in such a inhumane society?

What did people like him did for the universe to punish them like this? What did they do to deserve such pain?

Jisung eventually lost his hope on society and hated his mind even more for being so cruel to him. All these voices calling him out, calling him names and saying stupid things would never shut up. How great would it be if he had somewhere to scream freely, without fearing to be heard...

As he walked through a dark path in life, it only seemed to get darker. He tried his best to run away, but something was stronger than him, pulling him further into the endless darkness, regardless of how much he fighted back, until he couldn't fight anymore. That's when he gave up.

After two hours spent locked in the bathroom, including some time to calm down a little bit and reduce the swelling in his eyes at least a little bit, he finally left the restroom and safely got his stuff and went to his classroom, lowering his head to hide his swollen eyes.

And this is how Jisung spent the rest of his time at school: hiding himself from everyone, specially his eyes. No one should see his eyes, or else he would be bombarded with questions and feel even worse with people pretenting to be concerned.

When he was finally back home, his safe place, the first things he's done was locking himself in his room and throwing himself on his bed. It was a way too long day for Jisung and all he wanted was to sleep forever.

Hence he couldn't sleep, he unlocked his phone and tried to look for a calm and soothing song to sleep when he received a message from one of his favorite people ever: Lee Minho, a friend he knew through Twitter. They were like best friends; sending memes, using matching icons, tagging each other in random "love yourself" tweets and even writing sweet things to the other, just to remind them that they are loved and appreciated. It was the kind of friendship people either envy or ship. They would never stop talking to each other and Jisung would never find the exact words that can express all his gratitute for having such an amazing person in his life.

"hey, how was school today? did those dumbasses disturb you again?" Minho asked him in the most "Minho" way as always. Jisung's heart always skipped a beat whenever he would receive a message from him - he's one of the few people who actually worry about him and he loved this feeling.

"it actually sucked as always, but there's not much I can do about it anyways. and yeah, they did, that's why :(" Jisung replied, trying hard not to remind of what happened earlier.

"wait right there bub, i'll brb i will get some tickets to go to your city and kick some asses to mars" Jisung smiled at his reply. Ever since they talked for the first time, Minho's personality amazed Jisung. They were completely opposites, and that was the fun part - their differences made everything perfect.

Minho was, unfortunately, the only person Jisung told about Changbin and his "crew". He just couldn't gather the courage to tell anyone but him, blind by scenarios of his family's possible reactions.

"you're so weird" "i love you so much" Jisung replied and smiled as wide as he could. This kind of reply between them would be pretty common. Now, the question is: is it really a joke or not? Did they mean it, or not? They never even thought about saying this, but it obviously made both of their hearts best crazily fast.

"now that's a lie because i love you more" and tons of heart emojis and memes were shared.

They were each other's happiness, home, a safe place. It was incredible how each message would melt both their hearts. Happiness was endless whenever they would talk. "If only universe could make us live near...", Jisung said to himself. He just wanted to hold tight this bright light that had been brightening up the path Jisung was going through.

"hey, I didn't go to school today so i kept on reading about random facts and found out about a japanese legend that says that two people who are destined to meet are connected by a string tied to their hands and i thought of you" "you said you really like legends like this, so i was wondering if you knew about this one..." Jisung's cheeks began to hurt for smiling for so long. Minho makes him feel so loved, which is a feeling he's still not used to, but he wish he could feel all this in person.

"you're so adorable :( and yes i do know this one, it's one of my favorites!" "i wonder who's on the other side of my string..."

"if you're not gonna be on the other side of my red string then what's the point."

"i love you. i wish i could say this in person."

"i love you too bub and that's fine. some day this will happen, okay? we can and will make it happen. promise?"

"promise."

(...)

It was time for another monotone day at school. He would always know what was going to happen because it's been like this for a while now: he goes to school, sleeps in class, is bullyied, sometimes sleeps a bit longer and then, go back home. It's like he's stuck in a viscious loop - in the end of the day, he would always come back home with a sad expression in his face but he couldn't change this.

At school, waiting for biology class to begin, Jisung decides to try talking to someone. If he wants to stop avoiding people, he should be able to have short conversations with anyone. While talking to this girl who sits beside him about a test they would have later that day, a group of boys sat next to him and started to talk in a much higher tone. Jisung couldn't see their faces before they sat, but it was, surely, Changbin as his crew. Soon they started "talking" about gays and how they are ridiculous. Nice. What a beautiful place with sympathetic people, yay. Poor boy could barely focus in class because of all the noise they were making.

As his class ended and he was about to get his materials for his upcoming biology class, the same group of boys pinned Jisung just like the day before. He was shaking; it was happening one more time and he still didn't know what to do. Shaking under his breath, he didn't say or do anything. He wouldn't dare.

"Hello fairy, we're back." This was enough for Jisung to want to disappear. No, not these feelings again...

"H-hey... b-b-back for w-what?" Jisung asked, stuttering, in deep hopes it wasn't about what he thought.

"I told you we we would teach you how to be a real man, didn't I? And we'll do it now. You'll thank us later when you finally understand what being normal is." Changbin said, clearly trying to scare Jisung even more but, unfortunately, he couldn't get anymore scared. He could barely move or speak. He definitely gave up when he saw Changbin's fist in the air, getting ready to punch him, but another yell from the other side was calling for Changbin this time. His attention was divided between Jisung and the mysterious guy.

"What are you even trying to do?" The guy asked, trying to separate Jisung from them.

"N-no, it's not like that, I swear-"

"What is this supposed to be, then? I saw what I saw, and heard what I heard. So, you're gonna teach him how to 'act like a real man'? Because of what, he's gay?"

"Minho, what are you doing?" Changbin tried to reach him and grab his arms, just like how they would do when they were children, but, this time, Minho wasn't feeling like it. He completely understood what was going on and something must be done about it. He wasn't going to keep anything to himself in such moment, even if the one he's confronting is one of his best friends.

"First of all, he is a man. He's not 'less manly' than you, just because he like boys. Love is normal. Don't you even dare try to say it is not normal, or a sin, or whatever excuse you want to give." Minho kept on yelling and pushing Changbin and his other friends. It did hurt him inside, but he wouldn't stop. "You believe in God, right? Well, God wants you to respect His children as who they are. Also, stop acting as if 'gay cure' exist. You think beating a gay up will 'cure' him, huh? Well, this is not and will never be the right option, Changbin. He's done nothing wrong and there's nothing to be cured. You are the one who should learn to be a man. I thought you had finally understood me when we had that talk, maybe you really weren't paying attention at all, apparently. I can't with all this. You have absolutely 0 respect for people who aren't like you, and I won't stand this anymore. I can't do this. You will never change." At this point, there was a crowd watching Minho, their jaw dropped. He really thouched each of them deeply. Jisung could feel the pain and suffering in his voice. All he wanted to do was to hug him, if it means it would make Minho feel better, even if just for a while. He thought he is so brave for standing up for someone like Changbin because of a stupid dude he didn't even know. This is insane.

Maybe you can still have hope on this society, after all.

[bangtanficrecs]

Lost & Found Batch #19

Can’t start up the blog again without posting the newest batch! As always, if you happen to know the fic the ask is looking for, reply to this post or send us an ask with the request number and title/author. If you happen to know any fics from Past Batches, those are more than welcome as well. Thank you!! ~ Admin P

1)  There are werewolves and hunters. Jungkook and his dad are hunters. The rest of BTS are like a pack. The people close to Kook and his dad Is VIXX 95% sure. Hunters have jobs like police and Kook started his job. Meet Jin who works in the morgue also meets v. Accidently finds out jin is a Wolf. Jin dosent come in for work. Meets V again eventually falls for him. Dad locks him in his room. Escapes from window to save the other BTS. His dad shoots him making VIXX distrust his dad. VKook/Ao3

I'm only human (after all) by Lalaithwen

2)  Hi! I want to ask if you know this fic. The members where assassins or something? And they were separated into groups with OCs or other idols. There were three people in a group with a person from rach classification. One of the classifications was named epsilon(?) Like I think the classifications were based on eyesight, accuracy, and intellect. I would really love if you find this!

3) Hello! I have lost a fic I was reading. It is a mafia au with supernatural elements where suga is the boss and rest is working for him and jimin was a succubus working in his brothel and then he was a witness suga was protecting him in his apartment so its mainly yoonmin and taekook was a side pairing. It was a long and chaptered fic and was soo good. had bunc of other kpop characters. Can you please help me find it thank you so much 😊 🙏🏻

浮世 U K I Y O by Sharleena

4) hi loves ♡ I'm hoping you could help me find a fic? it's basically namjoon/everyone but each chapter is a different storyline with a different pairing. in each story namjoon is homeless or really really poor and the member in that chapter helps him and they fall in love. and joon is always rlly bad at his jobs. one chap I remember was with hobi and he owned a dance studio that joon worked at and joon started sleeping in hobis office ^°^ hope you can help find it ~

Phosphenes by CynoDemure

5) Hi, I’ve been trying to find a fix where Taehyung isn’t a part of BTS, but suddenly they respond to his tweet and shit goes down and they offer him a ticket to tour and room with them. Tae is a YouTuber or has a channel and he lives in a really nice apartment and blasts BTS music to the point where someone comes up and yells at him? I think that happens, and BTS watch his videos. It’s on AO3. If you do find it then thank you so much.

Perfection by orphan_account

6) Hi hi! I was trying to find a fic. I think yoongi had gotten a tattoo and it was of a tiger?? And I think kookie was the artist??? That's all I remember sadly :<

watercolor by TheHalesNyx

7) Hi! I'm looking for a fic I lost track of a while ago. It was Namkook, & what I remember is that they didn't get along bc NJ makes JK feel inferior, but ot7 go on a trip & they end up rooming together. They all get drunk, & NJ ends up offering at some point to have sex with JK. It was ongoing, & the last part I remember is JK going off on NJ & walking onto the balcony & NJ follows. Super vague & probably unhelpful but does anyone know?? Any help is appreciated please & thank you!! ♡

8) Hi! Can you help me find a story?? I’m looking for a story where Jungkook moves into an apartment building where the rest of BTS lives after leaving a traditional family, might have been ABO. He meets taehyung and eventually lives with the rest of them, I remember that two of the members adopt two children and jungkook accidentally gives one of them food they’re allergic too. Thank you for the help!

dust by lotuschae (orphan_account)

9) Hi! I'm hoping you guys could help me find a fic? i'm looking for a taekook fic where they meet again at an event and taehyung didn't expect jungkook to present as an alpha. in the fic mates mark each others with scars and jungkook still has the scar that tae gave him when they were young (tae didn't have a scar cos they got scared from the blood). In the fic jimin is an alpha and the very start of the fic was vmin rushing to the event cos they fell asleep.  [cont] seokjin and namjoon are betas in the fic if i remember correctly. Also, i'm not sure if this is the same fic but jk set suga's contact image as yoonji and when he bumped into taehyung and jimin at the market yoongi called him to ask him to hurry and jimin saw the contact photo and was interested lol so he asked jk for yoongi's number thinking he was a girl. When tae and jm go to jk's dance studio he sees yoongi there with jk and thought they were twins lol. [cont] SORRY FOR SENDING SO MANY MESSAGES but i would be really grateful if you guys knew which fic (might be separate fics?) i'm looking for. I've tried searching tags and scrolling through my history but i couldn't find anything :( thank you so much in advance and sorry for spamming your inbox :')

10) Hello! I'm looking for a fic I read last year. It's a Namgi that I think is set in college. I don't remember much but it has a scene where Namjoon is getting beat up in a locker room/gym at high school and Yoongi finds him because he's going to basketball practice. Yoongi runs to get the principal and the bullies get expelled. Namjoon tells Yoongi/he figures out, that Namjoon planned it to get the bullies expelled. It's a how-they-met story. I think Yoongi was class president too. Thank you! :)

11) I looked through you tags and tried to find it on ao3 too but I can’t :( can you help,,,, it’s a junghope where (I think) Jungguk is having a hard time in college and Hoseok is like “hey make a bucket list of things you want to do” and so they do and then find feeling along the way. I very specifically remember two of the items on the list,, 1) riding a Segway 2) being fucked against a wall Thank you!!!❤️❤️

12)  Hi! I've been looking for a 1 (or 2) chapter jikook fic. Jimin recently broke up with an asshole. Jungkook works at some kind of gun range/shooting place. JM is convinced to take a class there, and JK asks him on a date. After the date, JM never calls JK, and it upsets JK because he feels like he was led on. Actually, JM's ex had been bugging him and emotionally abusing JM into thinking he wasn't good enough. In the end, JM explains it, and jikook get together. Thank you for your help!

13)  Hi, I'm looking for a age swap fic where the members wake up with their ages swapped. I remember the first one was Jimin and Jungkook waking up with their ages swapped, and then after that it was Yoongi and Taehyung, and then they would eventually forget that they weren't actually that age, and the other members were the only ones who knew that they weren't actually that age. Also there was Taekook (I think). Can anyone help me find this fic? Thanks

im not gonna call you hyung by aprofessorstale

14)  Hi! Could you please help me find a fic? I read this awhile ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s a Yoonseok fic where Yoongi and Hobi got into a fight because I think Yoongi had a soft spot for Jimin and tried comforting him and Hobi was jealous or so. They decided to take a break from the relationship and all of the members urged them to talk it out but they were stubborn not to. Also Jimin and Yoongi were never dating. I’m sorry if it’s vague and not making any sense.

15)  Hey! Looking for this Jikook fic where they're both sons from rival companies but have been in a sexual relationship since boarding school? Can't remember the name. Thanks!

All Your Glory by eumorious

16)  Hi I'm not sure if you can help me find this since it's a smau and now a fic. Its jikook, hs. I think jm is rich and jk is a hockey player or something. But jm likes tae and asks jk to teach him how to do sexual stuff but also fake dates him and they end up real dating.

17) Hello, I've been searching for this one fic on AO3 where Jimin gets betrayed/stabbed? by Taehyung. Taehyung seemed to be really skittish and was freaking Jimin out. I also know Jungkook ends up marrying a detective? If you guys don't know it's okay!

18)  Hi! I’ve been looking for this one fic- I think it was Yoongi/Hoseok/Jungkook? And Yoongi was a tattoo artist along with another kpop singer (not BTS). I also remember at some point Yoongi gets a birthday cupcake that says “Hyung loves you” and he ends up attempting suicide too? Thanks for any help! 😭

Pati by signifying_nothing Note: The fic is locked and requires an AO3 account to view

19)  For the love of my sanity please please help me find this fic. Its taekook, bottom kook top Tae. Its either a two part chapter fic or two part serious. The first part I belive is a fic where taehyung does freaky ass shit to Jungkook so in the next part, jungkook gets revange on Tae. But more importantly, the second part features Taehyung being hand cuffed to the bed, and Jungkook is teasing him. Taehyung is very dom and frustrated at his sub. (A03) Thank you

Things To Do Before You Die by SevenSoulmates Note: The fic is locked and requires an AO3 account to view

20) I'm not sure if this account is still alive, but I'll give it a try. I'm looking for a bangtan fic where one of them lost his pregnant wife and after her funeral he went to the bar. He got drunk and got into one night stand and that person got pregnant. I don't remember the paring, but Jungkook might be one of them. I'm sorry for my English.

21)  hello! im looking for a series of one shots all in the same universe, its ot7 smut and was on ao3, with i believe 60+ parts? and it had hoseok as straight in the first few parts. ive been looking for ages but cant find it 😭

[poisonappletales]

Upcoming Valentine Event

Hello, everyone! Good evening from here.

Hope you’ve all been doing well! January is almost over, so do you know what that means? Valentine’s Day is coming soon.

I’ve got two special events in store. The first one is an old tradition - give a Valentine and receive one back on White Day! The second is a Host Event. I’ll go into more detail on that later.

Here’s how this Valentine tradition works:

1) Make a Valentine.

It can be a card like this, an audio piece like so, a drawing - or anything else outside the box! Just keep it PG-13 and clean. Here’s a full list of previous Valentines (along with the men’s accompanying replies).

2) Give your Valentine to one of the men (or women) from any of our games (i.e. Don’t Take This Risk or Beauty and the War).

The webtoon’s included. You can give a Valentine to multiple characters if you so wish! (This is Girl x Boy and Boy x Girl, so if you give a Valentine to a man, he’ll treat you as a woman and vice versa.)

To give us a Valentine, there are several ways to do this. Make a post on tumblr and tag us. E-mail us at [poisonappletales(at)gmail(dot)com]. Send us a tweet. As long as we know where it is and where to find it, then it’s all good!

You can do this from now until February 18, 2019.

3) Get a Valentine back about a month later!

This is based off Japan’s practice of White Day. (Please note that Virgo Island natives don’t actually have a White Day. I personally find it to be an interesting tradition...and it gives me time to make the replies.)

Now for the very special Host Event ♥:

This will take place on our fair and lovely Discord!

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m going to hop online on select days and roleplay as one of my men, who will woo every lady online like he’s your boyfriend/host. That’s the concept of a host club (from Japan) - handsome men catering to your needs and being a perfectly loving beau.

Now, I don’t have time to roleplay every single one of my characters, so I’m going to do a select few. I asked my patrons who they wanted this Valentine’s Day, and here are the three they chose:

King Barium

“A fine choice - one you won’t regret. I know how to treat a woman like the beautiful princess she is.”

As the one who came in last place for the War: Valentine Edition poll, King Barium was a surprising request! But as the owner of a harem, he’s more than qualified to be your host...

Love Style: Indulgent, smooth and flirty.

Arsenik of the Hulder

“It’ll be my pleasure to serve you. But...wait - I’m supposed to see every single woman there as my beloved? I’m not entirely sure how to make that work. When I love someone, she has my heart entirely. There’s no room for anyone else.” 

[The corner of his lips quirks up with a hint of amusement. Jestingly:] “Am I supposed to imagine each one as a duplicate of the other? This will prove to be quite interesting...” [Chuckling:] “If I’m there to entertain, I’ll certainly make quite the spectacle of myself!”

Like Arsenik said, he’ll have to think about how to make this work, but he’ll do his best to please you. He’s an intelligent man, so he’ll figure it out.

Love Style: Devoted, attentive and sweet. Shyer than he looks.

Unknown

“Ooh, yes. I am the obvious choice, am I not? You know you want me. I know I want you...kihihi! I love you, kittens. ♥”

This host list just wouldn’t be complete without Unknown, would it?

Love Style: Aggressive, sensual and...sensual. All right, he’s also unexpected. Perhaps even dangerous...

Note: When I say “aggressive,” I mean aggressive. He doesn’t always take “no” for an answer, you might notice. If he’s ever making you uncomfortable in the Discord and you want him to back off, just let me know.

You could say, “Hey, Crown Ruler! Get this guy away from me!” or “OOC (out of character): Get him off me!” Anything along those lines will work. Something that tells me you’re serious and not just reacting to the roleplay.

I’ve already told Unknown not to cross the wrong lines while he’s there (and to give no spoilers), but I can’t guarantee he’ll always listen. Still, I will restrain him when needed.

If I do have the time, I’ll bring in some of my other men as well. In which case, here are the possible other hosts who might be there to entertain you:

Chase of the Trold

“Huh? I don’t think anyone would really want me as a...as a ‘host.’ But if I’m there, I’ll do my best to make you happy!”

Love Style: Friendly, awkward and cheerful. You might say he’s a little like the boy next door...

Wind of the Imugi

“I don’t care to do this. Find somebody else to waste time with those girls.”

Love Style: Hot and cold. A snarky, arrogant grump. He doesn’t even like this description I’m writing for him.

Night of the Vi

“Why not? I’ve never done something like this before. I like it. Let’s make the most of it.”

Love Style: The bad boy who’s cool, easygoing and fun.

Onyx of the Vi

“Tell me what’s expected of me.”

Love Style: Distant, cold and silent. He doesn’t really have a love style, to be honest.

Viktor of the Hulder

“Oh-ho! A host? I wouldn’t mind trying my hand at that at all. It’ll be nice to get acquainted with other women and make new friends. Well, I know the point of the exercise isn’t to befriend them, but since this isn’t a serious thing, I imagine quite a few friendships could come out of this!

It all depends on who I’m meeting. Hmm? Was I supposed to say something more romantic? I’m not supposed to be promoting myself, am I? I mean, what that war chief - Onyx - said was hardly enticing. Unless there was some sort of double meaning behind it. A hidden innuendo! What a sly man...”

Love Style: Bubbly, outgoing and talkative! As you might have just seen...

X from Prison

“I’m the best out of all these chumps! You see my White Day card up there, baby? It beats all the others - what with its firey burst and everything. Yeah, you know it’s true!

Even if you’re with some other host, I’ll steal you away from him.”

Love Style: He has the X Love Style. I think that’s all that needs to be said.

Now, you might be wondering what days these men will show up in the Discord. I don’t have a complete idea of my February schedule just yet, so what I’m going to do is announce it a few days before each host’s visit.

I can guarantee that I’ll be in the Discord at least three times - once each for King Barium, Arsenik and Unknown as requested by my beloved patrons.

If I find I have the time, I’ll do a spontaneous visit, in which I’d either announce it a few hours before or just jump in without any forewarning. I’ve never done the latter before, except for a beloved patron and friend’s birthday, so I might as well see what’s that like. If I had my schedule set in stone, I probably wouldn’t do this, but it is what it is. As X would say, let’s roll with it.

In the event of a surprise visit, I’ll bring in a different host or one that you request.

So, stay tuned for the date and time of each host’s visit to the Discord! They hope to see you there.

That’s all I have to say about these upcoming Valentine events. I have a lot of things I want to reblog from y’all and asks I want to answer. I appreciate each and every one. I assure you that I’ll get to those as soon as possible!

Before I bring this to an end, here are some fun pre-Valentine “skits.” They’re a mix of sweet and spicy romance with a large helping of comedy. They just happened to spring to mind, so I’m putting them down here!

If you came here solely for details on the Valentine event, feel free to mosey along. Otherwise, if you have some spare time and you want to be amused, read on! Please don’t forget to pay attention to the rating.

Rating: 14+ for very sensual themes and some dubiously consensual things.

Ambrosia’s Host Guide

“Yes, dear? You want me to describe each host’s...love style for everyone?”  [chuckling] “I certainly don’t mind. It’s quite nice of these men to devote their time to making others happy.”

King Barium’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “A natural-born lover. You can be at ease with him. Please feel free to share your thoughts frankly with him. Even if you aren’t interested, he’ll understand and won’t pressure you.”

Arsenik’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “A true gentlemen and a dutiful warrior! Now, as a gentleman, he feels obligated to accommodate nearly every lady’s request, so please don’t take advantage of him too much. ＾◡＾ ”

Unknown’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “If you’re interested in him, he’ll surely fly to the moon and back for you! But if you aren’t, please be wary of catching his eye. If you run into any trouble, please seek one of the other hosts or myself to help you.”

Chase’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “He’s a sweet man, who tries very hard. He’s quite fun to be around with! You’ll surely enjoy your time with him.”

Wind’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “He can speak sharply, but be patient with him. You might see other sides of him! But if he does get out of hand, please come see me.”

Night’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “Take my advice: You don’t want this man as your host.”

Onyx’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “As the war chief, he has a great deal of experience with battles and all things related to them! You can learn a lot from him. Don’t worry - the king won’t allow him to hurt you.”

Viktor’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “A very sunny man who will make every conversation lively and amusing! He enjoys getting to know others, so don’t hesitate to approach him. Unless you’re from the Trold or the Valkyrie but I doubt you would wish to seek him out then.”

X’s Love Style (by Ambrosia): “Don’t let him intimidate you. Of course, you shouldn’t unnecessarily provoke him either. As a criminal, I don’t think he would hesitate to hurt someone...but please don’t let that scare you! If he’s acting out, please seek one of the other hosts or myself.”

“There we are. I feel like I had to attach quite a few warnings to these descriptions, but these should help anyone seeking a host.”

Q. Ambrosia, which host would you want to spend a night with?

“Eh? We’re not done? Oh, I-I see...”

Prompt: Men, take a turn each trying to convince her to choose you!

“Oh, I’m first? Excellent. 

Ambrosia...”  [King Barium reaches forward to scoop up her hand.] “Don’t worry. If this is your first time, I’ll be gentle.”

“Um...”

[The king slips the stalk of a rose between his lips and playfully lifts his eyebrows a few times.]

“What are you doing?” [Snarling, Wind shoves King Barium away from her.]

“Ambrosia, you obviously want to be with me. Nobody else would take you anyway.”

“Really! This is how you’re acting as a host?”

[Facing towards Wind, Onyx begins to unsheathe his blade.] “Do not touch the king.”

“Now, hold on, Onyx. You’re supposed to convince Ambrosia to choose you first.”

[to Ambrosia:] “We’ll do anything you want for a night.”

[He turns back and begins to approach Wind, who has his claws unfurled.]

“Oh! Sir Onyx, Sir Wind, must you fight?”

“Uh...weren’t we supposed to take turns? It’s not very organized like this...”

“Miss Ambrosia...” [Arsenik’s voice is too quiet to be heard.]

“You know, I would try to convince you, Ambrosia, but I have a feeling you’re already set against me. Even your host description for me was: ‘You don’t want this man.’”

“Then, please don’t even try.”

“Miss Ambrosia...” [His voice is still too low.]

“Ahh...darling~♥.” [Unknown slides an arm around her shoulders.] “I’ll make sure this is a night you never forget. Trust me - you’ll never want it to end, love.”

[With each word, he leans closer and closer to her lips.]

[Pulling back from him, she makes a smile, speaking a bit teasingly:] “...What if I want it to end already?”

“Knock it off, Unknown.

Ambrosia, uh...I don’t know what I’m doing, but I won’t be a creep like some people - honest. But choose whoever you’re comfortable with, okay?”

“Oh, that’s not a bad piece of reverse psychology.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that, Viktor.”

“I know. But you did just that anyway.”

“Huh?”

“M-Miss Ambrosia!”

[His raised voice nearly makes her jump.] “Y-Yes, Sir Arsenik?”

[He smiles in apology.] “Pardon me, Miss Ambrosia. I...well, I suppose my voice kept failing me earlier. I was trying to catch your attention. And now...it seems that words are failing me, heh.”

“I think you’re talking just fine like you always do.”

“You’re much too kind, Miss Ambrosia.” [There they are, falling back to their usual patterns of formality. The gears of his brain are flying into overdrive.] “You should choose me...”

[He trails off. She smiles and nods for him to continue. Staring into her darkly pretty eyes, thoughts escape him for another moment longer.]

“...Forgive me. I can’t think of a single reason why you should. I...”  [Arsenik breaks away from her gaze, looking towards the floor.] “...don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, Sir Arsenik...”

“That’s right. You should be with me, princess!”

[With a single motion, he lifts her gasping into his arms.] “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Sir X...if you’re hoping to convince me this way, this is hardly your best effort.”

“Oh, yeah? Always hard to please, ain’t you? Don’t worry. You’ll see I’m not all show when we’re alone tonight.”

[Arsenik moves to stand in his way.] “I don’t believe the lady has said she wanted you.”

“You’re makin’ a mistake, blondie. You really think you can stand up to me?”

[Arsenik’s smile curves with the edges of a smirk.] “Of course.”

“Heh.” [He lowers Ambrosia onto a table behind him.] “Stay here, princess. I’ll come back for ya later.”

“You’re talking like both the hero and the villain. I hardly know which one you mean to play.”

“What are you talking about? You know you want me...” [His voice drops to a whisper as his smile falls away for a moment.] “...right?”

[As X turns back towards Arsenik, Viktor steps up to her.]

“Are you comfortable sitting on the table like that? He really is some kind of brute. He ought to know better than to give a lady an inappropriate ‘chair’ like that. Let me help you off and find you a better place to sit.”

“I feel like I should make my choice soon to put an end to all this. What a strange exercise we’re undergoing!”

“Haha! Indeed. But let me make my appeal to you first, if I may.

Miss Ambrosia...” [He falls silent for a few beats. She waits patiently as he takes in a deep breath before uttering his next words.] “I’ll...I’ll make you feel good!”

“Hmm?” [She didn’t know what answer to expect from him, but it certainly wasn’t this.]

“I...I won’t make you feel uncomfortable. If you are, simply tell me and I’ll stop. No, I think I’ll know without you even needing to say anything. You’ve always been wonderfully expressive, and I admire that. I’ll treat you well and set the mood just as you like it.

Do you fancy candlelight? Perhaps, flower petals? I can certainly decorate the bedroom with such things. Whatever is to your liking!”

“The...the bedroom?” [Her face flushes crimson.]

[There’s a blush on Viktor’s cheeks as well, but he keeps going.] “I’ll truly savor a night with you, Miss Ambrosia. I...I know you’re delicate, so I won’t be rough. I mean, unless you want it that way, but since you’ve never done it before, I think that’s something you would have to build up to, if you so desire.

Not that I’m saying you aren’t strong in your own way, Miss Ambrosia! Yes, I’ve always known you to have a fair strength of character. But what I mean is that your constitution isn’t...well, I don’t think it’s meant for rough handling -”

“Um...Sir Viktor...”

“- or throwing around or pounding, you know? So, I won’t do any of those things or have any unreasonable expectations of you. I’ll treat you tenderly and ensure that you enjoy it.”

[Farther back, Unknown tosses his head back in a laugh.] “Gyahaha...!”

“S-Sir Viktor...can I...ah, I’d like to ask you something.”

“By all means, ask away. Is there something you’re confused about?”

“Yes. I mean - Sir Viktor...I’m not sure what kind of lady you think I am, but I’m surprised by your...very bold intentions, if I should choose to come with you.”

“What do you mean? Oh, was I speaking too frankly? I just wanted to make it clear that I would be a proper lover to you. Was I being insensitive with my choice of words? It’s hard to be otherwise with a matter like this.”

“...I think I’m very disappointed in you, Sir Viktor.  Perhaps, I should have attached a warning to your host description, too...!”

“Eh? Miss Ambrosia! Please don’t be upset. I don’t understand what I said to offend you.

You were being asked who you wanted to spend a night with, weren’t you? How else was I supposed to convince you of my eligibility?”

“Sir Viktor! I-I don’t think the question was supposed to be interpreted that way!”

“Really? I thought it was.”

“Oh, so it’s not just me! Kyahaha!”

“It’s totally about doing it, right?”

“You’re just being naïve, Ambrosia.”

“Honestly, the question could go either way, but I wondered how you might perceive it, Miss Ambrosia. In the event that you did choose me, I wasn’t about to force you into anything.”

“Sounds like the general consensus is ‘yes, the question is a naughty one.’ I bet that makes you even more repulsed by me, doesn’t it?”

“Uh, for the record...I wasn’t entirely sure.”

“But you admit it was a possibility.”

“W-Well...I mean, why does it have to be phrased that way?!”

“So, who do you want to sleep with, lovely? It’s me, isn’t it?”

“I...”

“Nah, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. She wants me.”

“How about we hear the answer from her lips first?”

“No need. Her body should tell you the answer.”

“I -”

“But she said it herself, you know. I’m a natural-born lover. That means I have the most experience here.”

“Experience doesn’t always mean better, does it?”

“Hmm...how should I answer that question?”

“W-Well...I don’t know!” [Chase’s face grows as red as a tomato.] “Don’t feelings count for something? That’s more important than...than being experienced and all that. That can come later, can’t it?”

[groans] “Ambrosia, if you don’t spit it out, I’m coming over there.”

“Beat you to it.”

“I refuse to answer this question! It’s completely inappropriate, and I’m shocked by the lengths your minds went. All of you are acting like boys! Men, please grow up - and take a cold bath.”

[She whirls away on her heel and marches away.]

“I-Is she mad?”

“I’d say so. That, and embarrassed - particularly if the blush on her face is any indication. But I suppose it’s only natural for a lady to react in such a way, particularly if she’s...untouched.”

“Let’s end the gossip here. I’ve already known her to be a lady of class. I feel horrible for having upset her...”

“If you ask me, you contributed the least to that. As for me, I think just being here puts her in a bad mood.”

“Actually, Onyx wins out over him. He didn’t say a peep after trying to convince her. Good job, by the way, Onyx.”

“It’s all right. I know she wanted me.”

“Nuh-uh. She’s my woman. That thing about taking a bath? Clearly an invitation for me to join her.”

“I’m fairly certain she wants you to take that bath. Alone.”

“Oh, so now you have your tongue.”

“Certainly. There’s only one woman who turns me into a fool.”

“You think that’s something to be proud about?”

“So, I think we’re done here. It really is a shame we never managed to hear her answer...”

Skit Finale - The Hostess Club

[Bo-Peep pouts and puts her hands on her hips.]“Aww, it’s no fair the boys get to have all the fun.”  [Her face lights up.] “We should have our very own Hostess Event!”

“Ooh, ooh! I like it!” [Rosemary clasps her hands against her chest, stars in her eyes.] “Being able to cozy up to all the cute guys...”

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be involved, Lady Rosemary. You’ll latch onto all of them and never let go.”

“You’re just saying that because you want them all for yourself, Lady Jasmine! You’ll act all nice - smiling, giggling, batting your eyelashes...”

“Excuse me? I am nice.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. You’re just being a brat.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are!”

[Brooks smirks.]“But ya know, some of the guys that come over won’t always be ‘cute.’”

“W-What?!”

“Uh-huh. Think of someone like Chasey boy coming here for some lovin’!”

[crinkling her nose in disgust]“Ewww!”

[On Brooks’s right, Wildfire rolls her eyes.]“Why are we here again?”

“I dunno. To do somethin’ new? Kyahaha!”

“I’m not here to ‘entertain’ anyone. Boys entertain me.”

“Oh, come on. Be a good sport!”

“Right! Lady Ambrosia, you’ll take care of all the un-cute ones, right?”

“I’ll do all the ones you aren’t willing to service.”

“Pfft!” [Bo-Peep covers her mouth with both hands, trying and failing to stifle her giggles.] “You’ll do them...! Oh, you’ll service them all right...! Heeheehee!”

[smirking] “Doll face walked right into that one.”

“Oh dear...” [Ambrosia shakes her head, smiling.] “Don’t tell me you two are as bad as the men...”

“Huh? Oh, you mean about the whole sleeping-together fiasco?”

“E-Eh? You heard about that already?”

“Well, of course! King Barium tells me everything. So, who would you have picked?”

“We’re not here to talk about that.”

“Aww, why not?”

“We’re trying to set up a hostess event, aren’t we?”

“Not like you’ll all have very many guys with faces like yours.”

“Or yours.”

“I’m just glad I don’t look like you. Besides, I’m not here to play the hostess. I’m just here to laugh at you all.”

“Hyahaha!”

“If you aren’t here to participate, then please excuse us. But I do advise you not to celebrate prematurely.”

[As Wildfire smirks, Jasmine ushers Bo-Peep, Rosemary and Ambrosia away from the Valkyrie. Once they’re out of earshot, she whirls towards them with narrowed eyes.]

“This hostess event has to succeed.”

“Oh, definitely!”

“Uh, that’s a given, isn’t it?”

“You don’t understand. We can’t let those Valkyrie skanks have the last laugh. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Of course not!”

“No way, no way!”

“It sounds like you already have a battle plan in mind, Lady Jasmine. Please tell us what it is.”

“All right. Lady Ambrosia!” [She points a finger at her cousin.] “Tell me what a hostess is.”

“A hostess is much like an entertainer. They keep you amused and smiling, treating each man as if they were already within the stages of courtship.”

“That’s right.”

“You didn’t know that?”

[Jasmine goes red.] “Of course I did!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did! I’m just making sure brats like you understand the concept of what we’re doing here.”

“And your point is...?”

“To make this hostess event a success, we need to draw in as many men as possible and ensure they have the best possible experience.

Being fun, graceful and charming is one thing. But I think we all know that men care about presentation as well. The more they like what they see, the more they’ll want to come back and tell others about it.

So, let’s start with our apparel.”

“Ooh, costume and wardrobe? That’s my specialty!”

[She whips out a selection of clothes that she so happens to have on hand.] “Here, take a look at these dresses!”

“Hmm...it would help to see how it looks on someone. Lady Ambrosia, can you wear one of these?”

“Ah, yes, I’d be delighted to help.”

“Here you go, Ambrosia!” 

[Bo-Peep hands her the prettiest, glitziest dress of the bunch. Ambrosia leaves to change into it and then returns to model it in front of Jasmine.]

“Ooh, you look good in it!”

“Oh, thank you, Lady Bo-Peep! You’re much too kind. I feel like I haven’t done this lovely gown justice...”

“No, no, it’s no good. Can you make some changes to it, Lady Bo-Peep?”

“Of course! Just let me know what you want fixed.”

“Okay, good. Make the length of the dress shorter.”

“All right.” [She pins up the hem of the dress, making it knee-length.]

“No, shorter.”

“Up to the thighs here? You have really pretty ones, by the way, Ambrosia.”

“Um...isn’t this a little too short?”

“No, shorter!”

“Like this?”

“L-Lady Bo-Peep!” [She tries to tug her shortened skirt further down.] “T-They’ll see that...!”

“What’s that? Your underwear? Your butt cheeks? That’s okay! You’re just with us ladies!”

“B-But we’re supposed to be wearing this in public later, aren’t we?”

“That’s okay! I’ll give you some pretty lingerie to wear.”

“T-This is not okay!”

“You should give all of us that, Lady Bo-Peep.”

“Some pretty lingerie? Sure! I have plenty.”

“Lady Jasmine, are you really fine with wearing this?!”

“Oh no, I don’t plan on showing anyone what I’m wearing underneath. But if we make the dress a little sheer...that would show it off without really showing it off, right?”

“L-Lady Jasmine, you aren’t making any sense!”

“Why don’t we have different themes? Like, I’m the cute one, Lady Jasmine’s the elegant one, Lady Bo-Peep’s the stylish one, and Lady Ambrosia’s the slutty one!”

“Lady Rosemary!”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I mean, like, the sexy one.  There - is that any better?”

“No - no, it isn’t!”

“Okay, good. Keep holding your skirt down and making that blushing face. It’ll make men think of bedroom things.”

“Oh, please, why are you talking this way...!”

“Ooh, Ambrosia, you should try saying the same line you said earlier. The thing about doing them and servicing them and whatnot.”

“That’s perfect! With a motto like that, all the men will flock to our event!”

“This is growing completely out of hand!”

“Okay, one last thing. We need a trial run.”

“That...I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Lady Bo-Peep.” [She takes the redhead’s arm and whispers into her ear.]

“I-I think I’ll just leave. After changing, of course.”

“Not so fast! Lady Rosemary, grab her!”

“On it!”

[Rosemary lunges for Ambrosia’s arm while Jasmine snatches the other one.]

“A-Ah! Oh, oh...dears, I know you’re having fun, but this is really taking it too far!”

“All right, let’s head out!”

[The two Phoenix begin to drag Ambrosia out of the room, with Bo-Peep trailing behind with a beaming face.]

“W-Wait, please tell me where you’re taking me! And if you’re bringing me out in public, can’t one of you at least pull down my skirt...!”

“Didn’t I tell you, Ambrosia? I’m sure your underwear and butt cheeks are juuuust fine!”

“F-For a hostess event, I don’t see why I have to be the only one subjected to this...!”

“You want me to show off my underwear and butt cheeks, too? I don’t mind!”

“T-That really isn’t what I mean!”

“Okay, stop right here.” [She looks at Bo-Peep.] “The next guy that comes by, you know what to do.”

[Bo-Peep gives a vigorous nod, her red curls bouncing with the movement.]

“Um...” [Half-resigned to whatever they have planned, Ambrosia’s shoulders droop and she murmurs to herself:] “Do I really want to know what that means?”

“Someone’s coming!”

“Ooh, ooh, who is it? Who is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s a guy!”

“How do you know?”

“Well, because he doesn’t have the parts women have - obviously!”

“I mean, you can tell that much, but you still don’t know who it is?”

“Shh! Be quiet!”

“Please don’t come over here!”

[hissing] “Shut up!” [She pinches Ambrosia’s arm.]

[wincing] “Nn...!”

[Hearing the footsteps stop, Jasmine calls over:]“Actually, it’d be nice if you could come here and give us a helping hand.”

[The footsteps resume. Jasmine exchanges glances with Bo-Peep, who nods.]

“Lady Jasmine, you’re letting your competitive nature blind you!”

“Lady Ambrosia, we simply can’t let those Valkyrie look down on us!” 

[She gives Ambrosia a sidelong glance before letting out a sigh.] “Okay, look. You give the man who’s coming over a proper invitation to the event, and I’ll release your arm. You can pull down your skirt like I know you want to - not that it’ll help much.

But only if you invite him appropriately!”

[Ambrosia’s face brightens.] “I-I will! So, you’ll let me go?”

“Lady Rosemary will still be holding onto your other arm, though.”

“Thank you, Lady Jasmine! I’ll take what I can. Even though I would appreciate having my freedom back.”

“Make sure you tell him: ‘We’re having a hostess event! Please come inside, and I’ll service you nicely!’”

“...I don’t know if I really want to say that.”

“You don’t even know the implications behind it!”

“But I can still tell there’s something wrong with it based off everyone’s reaction!”

“Do you want me to lift your skirt and show off your unmentionables again?”

“N-No...!”

[to Jasmine:] “Told you you were mean.”

“This is war! I know you want to reign victorious over the Valkyrie, too.”

“Uh...well, I care more about having lots of cute guys in the room.”

“And this will do it. Lady Ambrosia, say what I told you to or I’m revoking your modesty privileges!”

[murmuring to herself:] “W-What about this is modest?” [Hearing the footsteps drawing ever closer, Ambrosia heaves a sigh.] 

“Fine. But Lady Jasmine, there are other ways to draw in men without using me like this! I don’t even think I’m the best candidate for this!”

“Of course you are! Now, don’t forget to smile, everyone.”

“You know...I-I think it could be a little boy approaching us!”

“No, it isn’t. I know it’s not for a fact.”

“Stop struggling already and just give in, Lady Ambrosia. Don’t forget what I said!”

“Oh, this is so embarrassing...!”

[As soon as the stranger rounds the corner, Ambrosia dips forward in a bow, completely wanting to avoid eye contact.]

“W-We’re having a hostess event!” [Clenching the front of her skirt tightly, she draws in a deep breath and rushes through her next words.] “P-Please come inside, and I’ll service you nicely!”

[As she straightens herself, her gaze falls upon the last man she wanted to see.]

“Oh no.”

“Hmm...you’ll service me nicely, will you? That’s a first.”

“I take it back. I’ll never service y-”

[Jasmine gives Ambrosia’s arm another hard pinch, making her whimper, and then shoots a pointed look in Bo-Peep’s direction.]

[perking up]“That’s right! If you want to play with her...” [One slender hand begins to reach towards Ambrosia.]

“Um...Lady Bo-Peep...!”

“Come on over and tell all your friends about it!” [Seizing the neckline, she yanks down on it, hard enough for Ambrosia’s chest to pop out of it.]

“Whoops! Sorry, Ambrosia! I used a little too much strength, hehe. I only meant to show off more of your cleavage!”

“I don’t mind.” [A playful smile dances across Night’s lips.] “So, this is the kind of service you’re offering, Ambrosia?”

“No!” [She wraps her free arm around her chest.] “You...you beast!”

“I’m not sure why you’re saying that when I’m not even the one doing that to you.”

“By that, she means you ‘sexy beast.’”

[jokingly] “Oh, that makes more sense now.”

[She struggles to worm herself free of Rosemary’s grip without success.] “Avert your eyes already!”

“I thought you were offering to service me?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

“Hmm...one ‘no’ and two ‘yes’s.” [Night makes a show of rubbing his chin.] “This is a hard situation to grasp. Do you want me to help you, Ambrosia?”

“No, I don’t need your help! Just please make yourself scarce!”

“But it sounds like they don’t want me to go.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

[hissing in her ear:] “Lady Ambrosia, stop covering yourself so much!”

“L-Lady Jasmine - kyaaa! No, stop! Stop, this is madness! Anyone but him - please make him go away!

NO!”

[teasingly...?] “Oh, yes.”

So, these skits were pretty much pure comedy...well, for the most part. Hopefully, you didn’t find anything too disturbing. And for once, it isn’t all thanks to Unknown.

I was thinking of having Unknown be the approaching stranger, but I almost wonder if he wasn’t partly expected. Plus, he’d no doubt make the situation ten times worse for poor Ambrosia.

Anyway, any questions or comments, just let me know. Have a great rest of the day!

[codywalzel]

It is my personal belief that no one can teach another human being a single useful thing about how to make art. My understanding of “teaching” is giving someone something directly, like a full-proof method for balancing algebraic equations, or the definitions of SAT words. I went into art school with the hopes that cryptic lesson plans would lead to a Mr. Miyagi style evolution that would unlock my hidden powers. If I knew what I do now about how to art-learn, I might have gotten something substantial out of college. But in my experience, art education begins and ends with either: 1. Another artist opening your eyes to an idea about drawing that you hadn’t noticed before, or 2. Elaborating on their go-to solutions they use in their own work. Someone can tell you that you can ground your storyboards by drawing a ground grid. But using that grid in correct perspective, to it’s intended effect, is not something someone can do for you. Art educators and mentors can help you identify solutions to problems, then you work out how to implement it yourself. At the risk of sounding like a pedant for drawing that distinction, I’ll say that since I started approaching creative learning from this perspective, I get a lot more out of it. It’s become more “guided experimentation” than recording a recipe for the perfect painting. That said, storytelling in art is definitely something you can teach yourself. You’ve identified a trait already, storytelling, so you’re already at the limit of where some teachers can take you. Plus you identified something astute, because I’ve been trying to incorporate storytelling into my art for a while, and have only recently started to get a handle on it. So in my opinion, you’ve done the bulk of the thinking work. Now comes the heavy practice work to master this new spell. This journey has a lot to do with finding your voice as a storyteller, so the tone of “YOU”, and the style of rendering that best expresses that tone in this time and place, will have a unique set of challenges for each person. But, I’ll take you through some of the realizations I had on the path to where I am now: A proud adult with two cats and a hit or miss batting average at clearly expressing thought in a sketch.

Capturing an entire scene in a single, static drawing is something my mentor Ian Abando does masterfully. I used to try to emulate the personality I saw in those drawings, but I was only copying the surface. I realize now that me and Ian’s outlooks are so different, that Ian and I would never tell the same type of stories, much less the same exact same story about those people at the adjacent cafe table. He’s personable, outgoing, jovial. Ian is like a friendly labrador with a dark streak in his sense of humor. He can sketch two strangers and capture a warmth that makes you realize they’re actually two old friends that haven’t seen each other in years. I can find something in that coffee shop too, but I’m just a way bigger weirdo, so I’m more interested in weirdo shit. For me, the first step in capturing those stories was finding the right subject. I keep a sketchbook with me at all times, and I’ve developed a patience for waiting, for hunting the right subject. When Ian and I meet up at a coffee shop to sketch, it always seems like he can draw anything. He seems to rest his gaze somewhere in the room at random, then drop pencil to page and watch that snippet explode into life. But now, I think he’s hunting too. I think he’s searching for what’s interesting, what’s worth drawing to him. It only seemed random to me because I couldn’t see what was beautiful about a subject. That he can see a particular magic in a certain 6 square feet of space, and not 6 feet next to it, has to do with who he is. In my mind, he was making that table of pleasant, unremarkable strangers more interesting on the page than it really was. But in his mind, maybe he saw that a girl was counting down the seconds until the end of a bad date, and the guy was trying to find subtle ways to flex.  Even now that I can “see” more, I might never appreciate the specific things that Ian does until he draws them.

The potential exists for that to be true of all of us. Art is a magic that lends other people your eyes. So let people see the pieces of your world that only you can. Just like he can do for me, I can see what’s interesting in scenes that Ian would overlook. And there are a million scenes where we’d see the same fascinating thing, but we’d have a different approach to it (for one, his approach would be to be way better at drawing than me). And there are a million more scenes that we’d both see something interesting in, but we’d each attach to a different feature of it.  All of that to say, don’t just pick out something and draw. If you want to tell a story, then don’t draw just to put something down on the page. Wait. Observe. Find a moment that makes you laugh. Find somebody despicable, and capture what’s despicable about them. Use a sketch to vent. Or make a sketch intentionally cold, and show everyone what your specific brand of loneliness feels like without begging for sympathy. I’d rather keep observing and draw nothing than to try to draw something dull because it’s in front of me. Find the stories you’re personally interested in, you probably have something funny or insightful to say about a given situation that is unique to you. Try to put that weird part of you on display. If it scares you, then it’s probably coming from an honest place, and you should keep going. It may be clumsy at first. The story I want to tell still doesn’t come across on the page every time. Meanwhile, Ian seems to capture his stories without a single failure. If stories are Pokemon, he’s tossing great balls while I’m stuck with a standard issue poke ball. He’d probably say that comes down to pencil mileage. So keep practicing. Keep putting pencil to page even on the shit drawing days. It’s a toll you have to pay to be good down the line, even if you’re not good today. But, please, keep your brain turned on, that means always make an effort to be interesting. (Everyone go ahead and make that same effort in life too. Being boring around the water cooler at work is super rude and depressing.)  Like I said, being interesting in your art usually just comes down to taking an extra second to consider your subject before you start drawing. What am I seeing here? Is this the thing I want to draw? Where am I going with this? Is this coming from a real place? Am I digging to find the best I have today, or am I just making the same tired observation about airline food that I’ve seen before? And if I’m drawing something a lot of people draw, I make sure to ask what can I bring to this? What story can I tell about this that no one else is telling? Example: for the most part, if everyone around me is gushing about some new Star War via fanart, another well rendered post telling the story that you also enjoyed the Star War isn’t that interesting to me. I’d rather a worse drawing driven by a more interesting idea. You can participate in the cultural conversation without just repeating what’s already been said. I’m more likely to enjoy your Star War art if it comments on that one character’s funny butt pose in the third act. Or whatever. That’s just an hypothetical it doesn’t have to be butts. The point is to put more thought in to your art. Wait a sec for the right idea, don’t just start drawing. You will know when you spot the right subject because you will already see it on the page. Plussss, when you start drawing with a clear idea where you’re going, not only is it more interesting, but it actually informs your craft- your drawings will come out better. Okay, let’s say I’m not interested in the people a table over at the coffee shop, how do I know what else to look for? As stupid as this sounds, tweeting helped. Not just reading other people’s tweets, but putting myself out there, wording an idea with limited characters, figuring out what types of things could be explained, and what things were hard to express. And then I started to notice more and more effective way to express those ideas with a specific tone. One thing I realized about myself was that I trying to say two or three things about something at once. It made good ideas muddy, and weakened all three. I challenged myself to clarify, to combine, to present a single, strong idea. I’m still working on it, but for me tweeting is a storytelling exercise that’s helped put more “me” into my art. It forced me to get thoughts, ideas, jokes, frustrations, etc. out into the ether unadulterated by technique. There was no consideration of line quality or volume, so a thought had to stand on it’s own two legs. I doubt tweeting would help many artists in the same way.  But I think in words exclusively, images come later. I write outlines and dialogue in detail before I ever touch storyboard or comic thumbnails. But I’m in the middle of transitioning into writing, so I think my brain is naturally more verbal than most artists. Even with so much internal commentary, my art was without clear storytelling for a long time, because ideas either got lost in the drawing stage, or were too complicated to fit into a single image. Tweeting taught me how to be concise, (I’m clearly not using that skill for this reply, but whatever). So find your own method for making yourself comfortable enough to open up. Which leads me to the most my recent storytelling realization: Don’t be afraid to put your opinions in your art. What you feel passionate about from the deep to the mundane can guide you in your search for a subject. I think people’s egos are funny. LA’s coffee shops are flooded with aspiring creatives mouth-shitting hot takes on art with dogmatic authority, and all from their designated unemployment-check-opening-butt-crater that they’ve worn into the cafe couch. I’m not denigrating anyone that hasn’t made it yet. But I am laughing at the unearned confidence of beardy over at the next table, and the volume at which he’s dropping that savage insight into the Black Mirror episode using stolen lines he just finished reading in a Robert McKee book. Beardy is a “writer” you see, I know because he might have mentioned it a few times to the people he’s with. So yeah, one thing I like to draw is people with their ego’s showing. It makes me laugh. Probably because I too have a big, fragile ego.

That “storytelling” thing is a muscle, like being funny at a party. You get good at party banter if you put yourself through the pain of attending multiple parties close together. (I’m convinced no human being actually enjoys parties, by the way. We all think we’re the idiot just outside the conversation circle that can’t find a big enough gap in people’s shoulders. But parties are the hardest social video game and It’s a little fun to be good at it.) The same way, you keep that storytelling muscle active in your drawings, and you’ll get momentum. If you take a month off, it’ll get weaker, and you’ll have catching up to do when you come back to it. Draw “you” day in and day out. One day you’ll starting getting these bursts where you stop thinking about the drawing process. You’ll stop actively trying to make it “good”, you’ll be swept up, and you’ll disappear into your own rhythm. It’s probably on that day that you’ll look down and realize you just communicated on the page. But let’s move on to a matter of real importance:

The older I get the more I resemble an anime. Thoughts?

[mini-min-yoongi]

November AO3 Yoonmin readings:

Hey guys! Here I bring you this past month’s readings. Even though they are mainly yoonmin, this month there are a couple of OT7 fics of which I hadn’t read much until now. There is also some namjin, vhope and taekook as side pairings in some of them. I hope everyone can find something that peaks their interest so… enjoy! :)

1) Boyfriend Tag

“Normally I post dance routines and the occasional tag or challenge video and I know I haven’t posted in a while so I am here to make it up to you all. Yoongi lost a bet sooooo we are here with the highly requested, boyfriend tag!!” Jimin yelled making Yoongi wince and lean away from him. “Are you ready?” Jimin asked bringing his attention to Yoongi. “You better not get a thing wrong,” He warned pointing a finger at Yoongi.

Jimin is a youtuber and he gets his boyfriend Yoongi to film a video for his channel.

2) I’m your guilty pleasure (You can’t get out. Never) (contains smut)

Yoongi has just discovered his neighbor that he thinks is too damn loud is actually an internet camboy.

Chaos ensues when they start seeing each other. Things get hard–literally.

3) Crazy is most definitely genetic (work in progress; Pairings: Namjoon/Seokjin, Yoongi/Jimin, Hoseok/Taehyung, + Baby Kookie)

Family!au where Jimin’s just trying to survive high school, Taehyung keeps weirding everyone out, Namjoon is an embarrassing dad, Jin is supermom, and Jungkookie’s just along for the ride.

Very cute and funny!

4) Trolling ARMY (OT7, brotp, no pairings, BTS universe)

“The boys play a game where they compete to see who can get the most "shippy” comments of the week.“ Yoongi watched from an armchair on the other side of the room, trying not to chuckle. Ever since he’d learned the term shipping, he’d watched his brothers with a different eye. None of them were gay–though Namjoon had once drunkenly pontificated at length about his distaste for labels–or interested in one another. But they were all a little…handsy.

5) TRB in NYC (OT7, brotp, no pairings, BTS universe)

"What happened?” Namjoon asked, his voice tight. They had been skirting around him all day. As if he didn’t know. He found it darkly funny. His English was better than all of them combined, even their manager. He’d read the tweets, the posts, the threats. He’d tried to keep the other members from it as much as he could, but everyone had an inkling things had escalated past normal fan stuff.

“We’ve had a credible threat.”

Based on the threats that they received when they performed at New York. BTS hurting and comforting each other.

6) 7 minutes in heaven (*)

“It’s a fusion game. The person who spins the bottle gets to ask the person it landed on truth or dare, and if that person doesn’t want to answer or do the dare then they either take a shot or take off an article of clothing,” Jin says like he’s proud of improvising such a fantastic game.

“I’m not playing that,” Yoongi says. “Hyung, don’t be a party pooper, are you scared we’ll learn your secrets?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon ah’s dramatically. Yoongi shakes his head and puts his tongue in his cheek before he smiles at their antics, pushing Namjoon over closer to Jin so that he can sit down. “Please, hyung, it sounds like fun!” Jungkook says. “It’s my birthday.” 

I’m a simple girl. I love seeing a devoted and whipped Yoongi for Jimin even before they start dating. I love an innocent and kind Jimin crushing on his firend’s older brother who is kinda a bad boy and very cool. And I love BTS getting together, spitting embarrassing secrets and playing spin the bottle. This fic has all these elements and that’s why it’s one of my favorite readings of the month.

7) #mindreading Series

It’s my first time reading a fic in which someone has a gift because I’m more into stories that aren’t too fictional, but apart from Yoongi being able to read people’s minds, it doesn’t have any other “supernatural” elements so I decided to give it a try and I really enjoyed it. It was super cute reading about Jimin’s thoughts about Yoongi and I liked how the author developed their relationship and Jimin’s reaction towards Yoongi’s gift.

7.1) #mindreading #ad

Yoongi can read minds and Jimin is instagram famous.

7.2) Steady Hum (contains smut)

The one where Yoongi can read minds and Jimin is instagram famous PART 2.

8) Error: Words Not Found (*)

Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words to you will appear as a tattoo on your wrist at birth.

•×××××××××ו

In a world where most people’s lives revolved around finding their soulmates, Yoongi was different, not because he didn’t care-he cared a lot, he wanted someone to be The One for him too-but because he was convinced he didn’t have one.

It had been twenty-two years and still his wrist remained blank and unblemished.

As you may know by now I’M A SUCKER FOR SOULMATE AUS. So... yeah. I read another one and LOVED IT. I live for this kind of angst and I’d love to give a more thorough review but I don’t want to spoil it so go read it because it’s sadly just two chapters but full of good shit.

9)  You don’t have to say I love you (to say I love you)

yoongi’s so painfully and obviously in love with jimin, it sort of hurts the other members sometimes.

BTS universe.

10) Gotta Be Fate (If We’re Under the Covers) (contains smut) (*)

Jimin is excited to just sleep for a day and maybe catch up on some tv shows at the hotel.

That is, until they get to the new hotel they’re staying at, and he gets handed a room key that’s the same as Yoongi’s. Meaning, he and Yoongi will share a room and worse, he and Yoongi will have to share a bed.

“Why do I have to share with Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin complains. He’s managed to avoid it this whole trip which is really in his best interest if he wants to keep his raging heart boner for him hidden.

AKA my response to Yoonmin sharing a bed, 8 years too late.

BTS universe. I liked this whole idea. Just... just go read it *blushes and hides*

11) The Songbird and the Sea (*)

(pirate au, contains smut, Yoongi/Jimin + Jungkook/Taehyung, Namjoon/Seokjin)

In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.

But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East.

GO READ THIS MASTERPIECE OH MY GOD. I’ve never been interested in fiction heavy aus like pirates, superheroes, etc. but I’d heard such great things about this story, the author is lovely and this is the Yoonmin fic with the most kudos on AO3, so I decided to give it a try and BEST DECISION I’VE MADE THIS MONTH. It’s made me feel so many emotions. I’ve cried, laughed, screamed, blushed and became a mess. The author also gives music recommendations to listen to while reading the chapters and it gives the story that extra something (I actually created playlists for each chapter and I like them so much that I listen to them even when I’m going somewhere lol). Seriously, I’m obsessed with this story, the characters are freaking fantastic, the development is everything and what’s best is that this story is far from over. She’s planning on turning it into a series and I cannot wait to see how the story develops. Also, the author has a schedule so there’s a new chapter every week which is something that I appreciate a lot, especially when starting to read a work in progress (it’s almost finished, next week she’ll upload the epilogue and it’ll be complete). GO READ IT AND COME SCREAM AND CRY ABOUT IT WITH ME.

12) 흰 여름 (’White Summer’) (*)

“Diversity,” Namjoon had said when he had explained the concept to them, “Learning to love yourself, no matter what.” “We already did that,” Yoongi had pointed out, “Literally the same title.” But Namjoon, when he looked at him, had seemed strangely bright and somber at the same time. “Not like this,” he had said.

Or, Jimin and Yoongi have to kiss for an MV. And deal with the fallout.

BTS universe. F**k, this is good! I don’t know what to say but that as you may know I really like fics that are kinda canon compliant and this one is SO GOOD. The group is working on a new album and it’s kinda like love myself but riskier in the sense that it is a controversial topic in south korea. I just love it when people also write about the korean music industry (even if it may not be 100% accurate, but let’s be honest, only the people working in it knows what’s up really) because I find it so interesting and not many people talk about it in depth. Of course, I can’t finish without saying that I really enjoyed the development of Jimin and Yoongi’s relationship, how Yoongi wasn’t aware of Jimin’s sexual orientation. A good fic right here!

Special mention:

~Too Much to Admit (Taehyung centric, OT7 Relationship)

The first time it happens, Taehyung doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t know how.

To start, I would like to say that this fic deals with a very serious and triggering topic for some so if you are not in a good mental place or you could be triggered by it please do not read it. This fic doesn’t have any pairings and it’s a BTS universe fic. It’s complete and I really enjoyed the different ways in which each member deals with what’s happening. In my opinion, the author did an excellent job at portraying each character and the way in which they would behave in such a difficult situation. I’m especially really liking her take on Jungkook because you can clearly see that he’s the youngest one, his confusion and anger clearly shows how much he cares about the well-being of all his hyungs. I don’t know, it’s such a heavy fic, but I really liked it.

(*) My favourite ones.