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sierraraeck · 4 years ago

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The Jailbird and the Mouse

Spencer x Fem!OC (Aundreya)

Masterlist

Summary: When Aundreya shows up to consult on a case, Spencer seems less than pleased to see her, but his actions tell a different story. Bonus chapter!

Category: Smut. Hate fuck. Apparently I’m incapable of writing a single thing without some angst, so we’ve got a sprinkle of that in there at the end, too.

Warnings: Cussing. Choking. Nicknames. Degradation. Cuffs are used. Unprotected penetration, female masturbating, oral (male receiving), fingering. Semi-public at the beginning.

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Okay so this is supposed to take place during How to Lose Friends when they are both in their fresh, post-prison forms and are beyond pissed at each other, but you don't have to have read that chapter or the series to understand this. Also, shoutout to @writing-in-april for looking this piece over and helping me make some edits!

Things to Know: All you really have to know is that Aundreya was a criminal who’d already been to and broken out of prison, joined the BAU, Spencer and her had a previous relationship, Aundreya got Spencer sent to prison, broke him out, then took the fall for something Spencer was being accused of that she didn’t do, getting herself sent to prison again.

I’d been called back to help the BAU solve a case. Fascinating how when it was convenient for them, I held some value. But, after that I was just easy to throw in a jail cell to be forgotten about.

I didn’t want to be there, but unfortunately I didn’t have a choice. So, I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely had made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, with long fingers wrapping around my throat.

“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head preparing for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them, probably due to stress. His eyes were blood-shot, slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness he now held in his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and certainly not for me. Plus, there was a red-hot rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, a warped version of myself being reflected back to me. I’d seen the same fury and darkness in my eyes every morning that was in his now, and the irritation that radiated off him matched my own. Really, the only difference between Spencer and I, was he still had his gun and badge and I didn’t.

“I was invited to help consult,” I snapped through my somewhat restricted breath. “So you better get the fuck off me.”

He gave my throat one last tight squeeze before stepping back, his intense gaze never leaving me. I met his gaze with a wicked smile while brushing my fingers over where the ghost of his hand used to be. I wanted him to see that he didn’t affect me. Angry or not, he held no power in our dynamic anymore.

“Chambers, good to see you,” Derek mocked, giving me a side eye laced with suspicion.

“Can’t say I feel the same,” I deadpanned, then turning on Hotch. “So, why am I here?”

“We have reason to believe that a rogue gang member is kidnapping and killing ex-military if they refuse to join,” Hotch explained with seemingly no emotion, as if he was unaffected by my presence.

“Cool,” I deadpanned again before asking, “So why do you need me?”

“We wanted to know if you know anything or have heard anything-” Derek started.

“Heard anything?” I cut him off with a scoff, “You mean besides the constant clanging of metal bars when I’m not left in complete silence by myself? No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Can you find them?” Spencer asked as if it would be a difficult task for me.

“So you do want my help,” I clarified.

“I want your skills.”

I let out a disgusted chuckle in response to his quip. Venom dripped from my words as I voiced my thoughts from only moments before stepping into the room. “Oh, I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in a cell.”

“What was I supposed to do!”

“What were you supposed to do?” I asked in disbelief, eyes wide. “What were you supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself again in a mocking tone, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on the back of the empty chair in front of me I assumed had held Spencer at one point, and leaned in toward him. He’d retreated behind the table since releasing me, and I quietly snarled towards him, “I don’t know, but sitting there on your tiny, plushy ass, wasn’t it. I’m leaving.”

Spencer was back over to me in a flash, slamming his hand on the door before I could even reach for the handle. Someone got better reflexes. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We have a suspect list that we want you to review.” Hotch caught me before I pushed Spencer out of my way.

“Fine. Make it quick.” I looked over the list Hotch gave me that contained about 30 men, none of which rang any bells. “This was a waste of time.”

“Hold on, guys,” Garcia trotted in, “I just found something.” She was in such a rush that she initially didn’t see me, bee-lining it straight for Hotch. Handing the iPad over to him, her eyes lifted to take in the rest of the room. That’s when she noticed me. Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls, and her perfectly done lips hung open. I tried not to feel too hurt, knowing that my presence would come as a shock to her, but it still stung seeing her at a loss for words, possibly even scared. She’d really been the only person who still had any hope left for me, and I was starting to wonder if that was true anymore.

My voice softened as I greeted, “Hey, Penelope.”

She struggled for words, a few ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ headed my direction, ultimately being saved by Hotch. “Dave, you’re with me. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the ME, Garcia we’ll need you on call, and JJ, Lewis, I want you to go talk to this man.”

“What about me?” Spencer asked.

“You’re going to stay here and watch her,” Hotch commanded. I started laughing at Spencer’s visible discomfort. Spencer glared at me before opening his mouth to argue, but Hotch stopped him with a voice filled with authority, “I know you won’t be able to focus out there if you know she’s still here unattended. Let’s go.”

When everyone had left and the door shut behind them, I sang, “Well if it isn’t Doctor Reid drawing the short end of the stick, yet again.”

“Just sit down and shut up,” he tried to order with confidence as he took his own advice, sitting as far away from me as possible. Not once had he looked me in the eyes since I’d initially walked in and he had attacked me. Sure, his eyes were on me, but they never connected with mine.

“Is that a demand, doctor?” I challenged him.

“No, but it could be. I just don’t want to be the one responsible for letting you get away.” He shrugged in his chair, resting the ankle of his leg on the knee of the other.

“So you’re just gonna trust me to do what you ask?” I questioned. Throughout the entire time I’d known Spencer, he’d never gotten super riled up over something, but this was a whole different Spencer, one that I didn’t recognize or know . He was more on edge, confident, and clearly willing to wrap his hand around my throat with no hesitation. A type of Spencer I was more than happy to get to know. And let’s face it, I’d been in prison for 15 months. There wasn’t a ton of action going on in there that I wanted to get involved with. I just wanted to see how far I could push him before he snapped. “You don’t trust me, and you know you can’t. I put you in prison, just because I could,” I shrugged, contradicting what I’d insinuated earlier for my own entertainment, “and you think that I won’t just walk away from you when given the chance?”

“You’ve had the chance. For the past three minutes and forty-six seconds you could have left and you didn’t. What’s keeping you here?” he smugly fired back. Oh yeah, he’s definitely going to be fun to mess with.

“What’s keeping you here?” I copied, “Why’d Hotch bench you again? Because you can’t focus when I’m around?”

“No one can focus with you around!” he huffed hotly.

“Not well, but they certainly can do better than what you’re doing right now,” I patronized, “What is it about me that makes you all so nervous, huh? I’m just another criminal who happens to be a former co-worker. I thought you were used to working with those day in and day out.”

“Criminals or co-workers?”

“Either.”

“None of them are like you,” he bit.

“Oh I know,” I ran my tongue over my lips, “So I’ll ask again, what is it about me that makes me so different?”

He looked up at me. In contrast to the first time he locked eyes with me, his expression was stone cold. “You were a part of this team, and you betrayed us. You betrayed me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid to believe you were actually helping us! I just want to know why you picked me. You were going to take one of us down, why’d you choose me?” I could see the gears spinning in his head, and was about to answer when he frustratedly added, “Was it because you thought I’m the weakest?”

That’s it. That’s what’s always made him tick. And he used the present tense. We were still an entire table length apart, so I started slowly sauntering toward him. I prodded, “Is that what you think? You believe you’re the weakest on the team? Or do you just think that’s what I thought?”

“We all have our roles,” he responded, but not nearly as confident as he had been before.

“That’s not an answer,” I pushed.

“You still haven’t answered me, either,” he growled, and I decided to let this one go. We didn’t need to fully delve into his insecurities, no matter how much I wanted to.

“It was similar to that. You were the most afraid of me, I could smell it in the air.” I closed my eyes and pretended to revel in the stench of fear. “But, I could’ve gotten any one of them if I wanted.”

Spencer scoffed at that, “I think you overestimate your abilities.”

“I don’t,” I quickly fired back, “I could’ve gotten any of them, and to be honest, I was going to go after Derek, or maybe Emily, but then you spoke up from the corner of the room and I knew it had to be you.”

“Why?”

“Why this, Aundreya, and why that, Aundreya? Is that the only question you can ask?”

“Is it the only question you can’t answer?”

I was about halfway to him now, and decided to give him a little false hope. “I picked you, not because of your intellect, or how the rest of the team coddles you, or how relationship starved you are. I picked you because I could see something in your eyes that was different, something dark. And once I heard your full back story, I realized just how similar the two of us are.”

“We are nothing alike,” he insisted.

“Really? Because had you made one different choice or one thing went just a little bit wrong, you could have ended up just like me, with no family and no one to give a shit about you or what you do, except for the cops who just wanted you locked up and controlled.” I was dangerously close to him now, his head tilted to look at me, but he didn’t cower away. He actually seemed to welcome it. Which reminded me of something, “After knowing all of that, my past and everything I was, you still agreed to let me on your team.”

“I was the last person to say yes to you joining,” he informed me. This was news to me, but I couldn’t even be sure if he was telling me the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be working with us, but I was outnumbered and outranked.”

“No, you caved to their wishes,” I twisted his words to suit my needs, “Like you caved to mine.” I slowly reached down to place a hand on his chest. He eyed it all the way until I made contact with him, and it was like flipping a switch. He grabbed my wrist and held it close as he pushed out of his chair, the wheels spinning it wildly back into the monitor. He reached for my other wrist, which I let him grab, and held me against the wall, arms pinned next to my head. I did everything I could to not smirk. And he’s still caving.

“I didn’t want you here. I resisted the idea of you being around us,” he spat.

“Like you’re resisting the idea of being around me right now?” I arched an eyebrow, scanning him from head to toe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on a few spots. He opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it again, locking his jaw. I could see his genius mind at work, trying to come up with some way out of the little mouse trap I’d set up for him. I watched his eyes trail down to my lips and neck, soaking it all in. When his eyes met mine again, I tried to reach for him, but he forcefully slammed my hands back, pinning me to the wall again. Though, I wanted him to touch me this time. He was taking too long to make a move for my liking, so I decided if I couldn’t use my arms, I might as well use my legs.

All of his weight was already leaning toward me, so it wasn’t difficult to wrap my right leg around his waist and bring him all the way to me. The moment that they were within inches of my face, I attacked his lips. I was almost disappointed by the fact that he didn’t seem surprised at all, as if he knew how impatient I was and knew that I would force the first move. But, I wasn’t disappointed for long.

Spencer’s whole body was pressed against mine as he quickly swiped his tongue across my bottom lip, looking for entrance. I granted it, but I wasn’t going to give him the complete dominance that he wanted over the kiss. Instead, our tongues slid over each other’s searching for more than the other was willing to give. It was hot and messy, and he released his grip on my wrists, moving them to apply the same amount of force to my jaw. With my hands free, I made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, ripping it open. I was expecting skin and sighed when I found yet another shirt. This man and his layers.

Spencer took advantage of me sighing, giving him more access to my mouth, which I wanted to be annoyed about, but couldn’t care to be. I decided to make better use of my hands, running them down the sides of his body as he wrapped his behind my back. He pulled away from me so abruptly when I tried to massage him through his slacks, he basically dropped me on the floor. It was like being left out in a cold winter storm, just barely out of arm's reach of warmth.

Spencer shook his head, eyes on the floor, as if that would clear his mind of what clouded it, which was me. But I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There. You got what you wanted.”

I gaped at him before retorting, “We both know it wasn’t just me who got what I wanted. I’m sure you had a hard time pulling away.”

He glared at me as he rolled the chair back toward the desk and took a seat, “Not really. I have important work to do.”

I stood there staring at him trying to compose himself. His face was red and he tugged at his pants before crossing his leg over the other. I pressed my lips together, but still failed to contain the small laugh that escaped through my nose.

“Sure,” I mocked, “Especially since everyone else on the team is already doing that work for you.” He didn’t look up from whatever papers were on the table, trying in vain to ignore me, though I wasn’t ready to have his attention off me yet.

I shut the folder that he was in the middle of reading, not like he was actually reading it considering how long it was taking him to flip the page, and sat right on top of it. He was about to reach for it again, but retracted his hand at lightning speed when my legs got in the way. I flashed another mockingly sweet smile his way, but he looked out toward the window, right next to the wall I’d just come from. I swung my legs back and forth off the side of the table just a bit, careful not to completely kick Spencer in the shin, though I couldn’t help but let my toes accidentally tap him a few times. As with all of the other times I’d touched him, he moved out of the way, uncrossing his legs with a perfect foot-sized gap in between his knees. I rested my foot in that small gap on the chair, rolling his body closer to me. Then, for no other reason than wanting to feel him squirm underneath me, I plopped down on his lap, my legs straddling his. I pretty much had him locked in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, a look of complete indifference gracing his face, but I knew it was just a front.

“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” I replied, winking at him.

“And… how do you think this is helping me do my job?”

“I’m making sure you’re paying attention to me,” I whispered in his ear seductively, lacing my fingers together on the back of his neck, “Plus, I’m doing what you asked me to. How did you put it? Sit down and shut-”

Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched my cheeks and brought my lips to his forcefully. The kiss was just as hungry as the last, teeth clashing and tongues furiously fighting. He moved his long fingers onto my hips with a bruising grip, which I had absentmindedly started grinding against his. He pulled away from me for a moment, and his harsh tone reminded me that this was nothing like the last time we’d been together, when we’d both been a bit more innocent. “You never did have any manners at work.”

I smirked, “I know. Imagine my manners at home.”

A low, almost inaudible groan came from Spencer’s throat at my suggestion, but he tried to cover it up by moving my hair out of the way and latching his lips onto the side of my neck. I gasped at the contact of his teeth pulling at my soft flesh, paired with the feeling of his growing bulge pressed against my core. His fingers gripped my hips harder and moved them faster, drawing a small whimper from my lips. I felt him smile as he trailed kisses down my neck to my collar bone, leaving a single bite mark there. I tried so hard to contain my high-pitched moan when he moved one of his hands from my waist to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.

But I was supposed to be the clear-headed one, so I forced myself to not get too wrapped up in the feeling. If I wanted to get to my end goal, I was going to have to leave him wanting more, which unfortunately in turn meant leaving myself in the same condition.

My hips had gotten faster along with Spencer’s hands, but when I felt him start to buck his hips up against me, I knew that he was getting close and it had to end. Immediately, I stopped my movements and untangled myself from him, but not before dragging a finger up the column of his throat, sneering, “Too bad. I could’ve helped you, had you done anything to help me.”

I left that open for interpretation, either as a jab to his masculinity or to what started my rage in the first place: being left in prison. He didn’t ask for clarification either, clearly too bothered by being left on edge. He did, however, follow up with, “Help you? Why would I want to do that? You’re a terrible person.”

I grinned as if receiving a medal of honor, “That I am, Doctor.”

I moved the lay down on the couch while Spencer attempted to refocus on his work. I made a show of sighing a couple times and rolling around ‘to find a comfortable position’ on the couch, just to piss him off. I could tell it was working based on his clenched fists turning white, and the way his leg was jumping. He was resting his head in his hand, which almost perfectly shielded my face from his.

He still wasn’t turning the page, so I offered, “Can you flip the page by yourself, or do you need some help?”

He wasn’t given the opportunity to respond, because Hotch, followed by most of the team, came barreling through the door.

“Colby Ulton, 43 years old, has a long record and wasn’t home,” JJ announced, following Hotch. It’d been a while since I had to deal with their inhuman pace when it came to talking about unsubs and profiles, so most of the stuff they said next flew over my head.

I was way behind in the conversation, but none of that mattered when Hotch turned to me, “Colby Ulton. I want you on him.” He'd barely gotten the command out before I was reaching for the door handle.

“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid. I rolled my eyes. He moved to step in front of the door, blocking my passage out again, leaning casually with his back against it, arms crossed. Our faces were barely centimeters apart.

“Why not?” I asked in a mock-curious voice.

“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free. Plus, we’re not even sure he’s the right man,” Spencer pointed out. I was going to point out how I had just made that same argument about me leaving, and he refuted it himself only to bring it back up now, but I didn’t get the chance.

“He’s the best we’ve got right now,” Derek countered. I could tell he sort of just wanted me out of the room, but Spencer’s motives appeared very different.

He never took his eyes off of mine as he recited, “We think it’s a rogue gang member who’s either left or been kicked out within the past year. Ulton’s been in prison, which could mean he’s gone rogue, or it could mean he’s joined a new gang, one that, as you probably know, wouldn’t allow this type of acting out. Either way, he hasn’t demonstrated gang affiliated behavior in almost three years. Not to mention he had his tattoo removed and is out of our age range. I don’t think putting her on, most likely, the wrong man’s trail is worth the risk of letting her walk free.”

The room was silent as we all waited for someone else to make the first move. I decided to be that person. “So what do you suggest they do with me, hm?” I questioned, walking my two fingers up his chest with each word. Then I leaned in and made it very clear, “Because I am not going back to prison.”

I bit his earlobe on the way back, and I saw the way his pupils dilated just slightly at the feeling, “I’ll watch her for the night.”

“What?” Derek and I said at the same time, but our facial expressions were very different.

“Yes,” he stated, more confidently now, “She has nothing to do right now, but we might need her later in the investigation, so sending her all the way back to prison doesn’t make sense.”

“And you'll make sure she doesn’t escape?” Derek questioned.

“She hasn’t so far, has she?” Spencer challenged. When he got unnerved looks from the rest of the team, he assured, shooting a small smirk my way, “Trust me, she won’t.” How cute. He thinks he can wrap his skinny little fingers around my neck and pull a moan from me once, and all the sudden he’s in control. He switched our position, pinning me up against the door, clasping the handcuffs back around my wrists in front of me. I was starting to think he had a thing for pushing people into walls. It was his turn to whisper in my ear, “And you won't want to.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When we arrived back at his apartment, I took a moment to survey the room. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time I’d been there. Books piled up everywhere, papers strewn all over the desk, a little dark and dusty, maybe a bit more worn, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The only difference was that it no longer suited him as well anymore. He used to be this shy, studious, loner-type that didn’t really like people, and he had a certain innocence about him. There was nothing innocent about him anymore. He didn’t seem shy either, much more confident; still studious and a loner though. However, I bet he liked having at least one person over at all times, or not being home at all. It meant that he didn’t have to be alone with his own mind, and after being in solitude myself, and knowing that he’d been in there too, that feeling of complete silence, utter aloneness, was something we’d never want to experience again. We were honestly perfect for each other in that way.

The other thing I’d noticed, based on what I'd seen of him within the last few hours and what I knew prison could do to a person, I guessed he went off of instinct rather than intelligence more than he ever had in his life.

Spencer had to take the time to shrug off his satchel and kick off his shoes, neither of which I even had. All I had was myself and what I was wearing, which wasn’t much. At least I wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit anymore.

“Wow, you’ve really renovated the place,” I snickered. Spencer didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and brushed past me. I forced my wrists outward a couple times, making a clanking sound with the cuffs, asking, “You gonna take these off?”

He faced me with a smirk and shook his head slightly, “Don’t think so.” Pulling out a chair at the puny kitchen table, he sat down, and I felt like we were much in the same position we’d been in at the office. I was in his home turf, if I could even call it that, but I wasn’t just going to let him be in charge.

I decided to go straight for the jugular, “Why’d you bring me home, Spence?”

“This isn’t home, not for you,” he snapped.

I scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it is for you, either, but that doesn’t change the question.”

“I told you. I didn’t want to risk you running away.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” I inquired. He could hear the way I was rephrasing it to change the narrative, not like I was wrong, but he successfully dodged it.

“I didn’t want to lose an asset over the wrong man, tipping the right one off, and potentially risking him going underground. I’m just trying to catch an unsub,” he shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I shook my head in amusement.

“You don’t?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” I quickly answered.

“Then answer this,” Spencer squared his shoulders, now completely facing me, “Why didn’t you run the moment you got the chance?”

“I had three FBI personnel in the car with me, then a team of BAU agents surrounding me, and then was left alone in the same room as an agent who can shoot 100 on his test. I am many things, but I am not stupid nor am I suicidal.”

“How’d you know I shot 100?” Spencer followed up.

I smiled, “I know things.”

“How about all the chances you got when you were in prison? You’ve broken out plenty of times before, why not do it again?” He was leaning forward, and he seemed genuinely curious.

It was a good question, one that I actually hadn’t pre-thought the answer to. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to even make it this far. “I was biding my time.”

“For..?”

“Leverage.” It was a simple word, but one that seemed to make a great impact. Spencer leaned back in his chair and contemplated my answer. It wasn’t a complete lie either, I just didn’t want to give away too many details.

Spencer finally whispered, “Against?”

I flashed him a wicked smile. “You.” His face contorted into something I couldn’t fully recognize, eyes narrowing. “You, Spencer. I’ve been waiting for you to make an error, a mistake. That was the one flaw in my plan, that while I picked the easiest to emotionally manipulate, I picked the hardest to mentally manipulate. And you don’t make very many mental mistakes, do you Spencer?” I asked, approaching him. I’m really hoping you’d like to cash one in right now, though. I could practically see the internal argument being fought inside Spencer’s head; one side telling him to give in, it wasn’t that bad, the other telling him to resist, that somehow, this would corrupt him further. I needed the former to win. “You wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment, would you? You wouldn’t crack, take what you want, what you need, what you deserve against your better judgement. Because you’re all brain, Spencer. All brain, and no heart.”

That’s what did it.

Spencer literally swept me off my feet, tossing me onto the couch like a rag doll. His hand returned to my throat as if it belonged there, and he pushed open my legs with his knees. My hands may have been cuffed, but they could still be useful. I moved them to start unbuttoning his shirt when he swatted them away. He spat, “I’m not heartless. Not like you.”

“No,” I agreed, “You’re worse. At least I can admit to what I am. You just hide behind a badge and gun.”

Spencer shoved two fingers in my mouth, probably trying to shut me up. I smirked, running my tongue up and down the long digits, making sure to give him a preview of what was to come if he’d let it. His other hand trailed down the side of my body until it reached the waistband of the pants I was wearing. Forcefully, he yanked them down, taking my panties with them. I knew I was already pooling, but of course he had to rub it in. Snarky, he mocked, “For someone who talks a big game, you’re already looking pretty weak.”

I silently cursed my body for finding him arousing, and was about to have to come up with a clever comment when I saw Spencer pause. He was charging straight into this, and then he just stopped. I tilted my head, “Worried you don’t have it in you?”

Spencer met my eyes, and cooly stated, “I’m not going to let you be my mistake.”

Dammit. When I felt him start to pull away, I knew I had to say something to get him to stay. I needed to turn this into an advantage in his eyes, not just mine. “Why? So you can let this rage build up inside of you, eat away at your every thought, until you snap? What then? You lash out during a case, which causes someone to die, either because of your incapabilities or at your hand? And what for? Because you’re still mad at me? I’m right here in front of you, Spencer! You’re never going to get a chance like this again, so just do something!” By the end, it was a plea, and one that was brutally answered.

Spencer pushed two of his fingers inside me, already moving at a quick pace. I let out a small yelp at the sensation which clearly pleased Spencer. I attempted to refocus on unbuttoning his shirt, which became increasingly difficult because of how he was curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. I barely finished, pushing his shirt away from his shoulders when he leaned away from me, taking both of his fingers with him. I was about to complain until I saw him dropping his shirt to the ground and unbuckling his belt, pushing his own pants and underwear out of the way in a similar fashion as he’d done to mine. He pumped his fist over his shaft a couple of times before lining himself up between my wide open legs. He teased my clit with the tip of his cock, and I could feel the precum beading there. I bit my lip as I looked up at him.

Spencer’s eyes were blown when he quietly demanded, “Say it.” He wants me to beg. I was okay with him thinking he was in charge for now, so I played into it by shaking my head. He slammed my cuffed wrists against the arm of the couch just above my head, bringing his face so close I could feel his lips brush mine as he repeated, “Say it.”

It was more forceful the second time, and something about his hot breath on my face and the feeling of his hips trying, and failing, to stay still against mine pulled a whimper all too genuine from my lips, “Punish me.”

At my words, he slammed his cock in my entrance, setting a merciless pace. With no time to adjust to his length, the heat burning between my legs got fiercer. The sounds of his hips hitting mine filled the room, both of us trying to control our moans, not wanting the other to know how much we were really enjoying it. My back arched off the couch, sending my fingers over the arm, brushing over thin objects on the small table there. A pen and paper clip.

I pressed my lips together to contain the grin that just about took over my face. Looking down at Spencer, who was way too busy biting marks into my skin, I could tell he hadn’t noticed the detrimental error I’d just realized he’d made. I made quick work of unclasping the cuffs from around my wrists, but left them on loosely just for show.

The coil in my stomach was getting tighter and tighter, and while I usually would have tried to control myself, I let the moans tear through my lungs. This caught Spencer’s attention, perring up at me with a twinkle in his eyes, one that told me he thought he had me. He mouthed into my neck, “This too much for you to handle, Jailbird?”

I scoffed at his pet name. Alright Doctor Reid, you’ve had your fun. Now let me show you how to really be in charge. “Not in the slightest, Mouse,” I quipped. Before he could think, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and put my hands on the back of his head. I flipped us off the side of the couch, landing on top of Spencer. With the wind knocked out of him, I quickly grabbed his wrist, clasping one of the cuffs around it, looping the chain behind the couch leg, then synching the other around his free wrist. I placed his head on the ground and leaned back, tracing patterns on his chest.

It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, but I saw the moment the light went off. “You filthy bitch.”

I chuckled, “It seems as though that genius memory of yours forgot that I’m a criminally sound escape artist.”

He was fuming, but contained himself long enough to ask, “What changed?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since last time? You had no problem letting me take control then.”

I simply stated with disgust, “I was soft then.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t still now?” Spencer challenged.

I laced my fingers with his as I pinned them to the ground, my turn to be the one looking down on him, faces only centimeters apart. We locked eyes as I explained, “You can see it too, I know you can. I wake up and see it in the mirror every day, and I see it in you too now. It’s in your eyes. That darkness. That feeling of destruction, of being broken, of being a monster. It’s there. I can see it like it’s my own.”

I expected him to snap at me. To argue with a clever quip. But he didn’t. Spencer leaned up as far as he could and kissed me. Not in the angry, predatory-like way that we had earlier, but really kissed me. I was so taken aback by the gesture that I practically jumped off him after a few seconds. I hated myself for letting it happen for even that long.

I stormed away from him, hissing, “Don’t try to get my sympathy now that you’re the one chained like a dirty animal. I’m not gonna fall for it.”

I saw something quick flash across his face before it hardened again. I could feel his eyes following my every move as I walked away, so I decided to make a show of it. I swished my hips back and forth, and even bent all the way over to pick up our clothes for no reason, just so he could have a perfect view between my legs. I heard the rattle of the cuffs against the couch and smirked to myself.

Tossing the clothes as far away as possible, I reached under my shirt to unclasp my bra, slipping it out one of the arm holes. I spun it around my index finger a couple of times before letting it fly off in the direction of the rest of our clothes. Toying with the hem of my shirt, I rhythmically moved it around my body so that he could only see some exposed skin at a time. I slowly pulled it higher and higher until I removed the garment completely. Standing completely bare in front of him, looking down on his naked body, I’d never felt more in control.

Spencer was drilling holes into me as I got down on my knees, crawling toward him. Again, his hands shot forward only to be stopped by the metal. I tutted, “Now, now, Mouse. That’s not how this works.”

I stroked a single finger up his length, and when it brushed over the tip, he squeezed his eyes shut. I wetted my lips as I wrapped a single hand around his cock, starting at an agonizingly slow pace, a stark contrast to the one he’d set earlier. I had barely started moving at a faster pace when Spencer started to buck his hips up into my hand. I slammed his hips back down with my other arm, giving him a cold look. His hips stilled and I knew he was getting desperate.

I flattened my palm against his lower belly, making sure he’d stay in place as I steadily picked up the pace. Spencer threw his head back when I swiped my tongue over his tip, and huffed when I retracted my hands, breaking contact all together.

I hummed, “Actually, this isn’t that interesting.” I scooted back on the floor, holding eye contact with his piercing irises as I spread my legs wide open for him to see. Neither one of us has had our release yet, so I might as well take mine and leave him high and dry.

I brushed my fingertips down my body, cupping my breasts on the way, until I reached my clit. I started to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, not realizing how close I already was. I let out exaggerated moans as I continued my ministrations, steadily pushing myself toward the edge.

“Stop.” It was barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I even heard it, so I ignored it. Right as another moan ripped through my lungs, I heard Spencer say, louder and more demanding this time, “Stop.”

I was too close to stop. I barely had the mental capacity to smirk down at him before I felt my release crash over me like a tidal wave. For dramatic effect, I whined out Spencer’s name as my walls clenched around nothing, helping myself through my orgasm. Slowly coming down from my high, my head lulled back, release seeping into his rug.

Barely allowing myself to catch my breath, I leaned forward onto my knees, and looked at Spencer’s face, which was red with anger or desperation I couldn’t tell, but brought my lips down on his dick regardless. He grunted at the sensation, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I swirled my tongue around him until I couldn’t anymore, opting to just trace a protruding vein instead. I started to hollow out my cheeks when he bucked up into me, forcing me to take all of him in at once. He groaned when I started gagging around his length, and when I coughed after pulling off him, he had the audacity to laugh.

“Having trouble there, Jailbird?” Spencer smugly asked. I looked down at his length laying against his stomach and saw that it was a deep red, and had to have been painfully hard at that point. With that in mind, along with my recent release, I crawled over him.

I looked at him as I hovered my pussy just above his cock. “I wouldn’t be worried about me. I’d be worried about how you’re gonna take care of yourself with your hands cuffed if I decided I’m done with you.”

That threat wiped the smug look right off his face. I was already wet again, and allowed him to only barely feel what was waiting for him if he behaved, lowering myself down so his length was just brushing my lips.

His face contorted and then he said the word of my victory, “Please.”

Taking hold of his cock in one hand, I lined myself up, and slowly sunk down. He filled me up completely, a bit thicker than I remembered, and I sat comfortably in his lap. This was clearly what Spencer wanted, but there was no way in hell it was going to be that easy. I just sat there looking at him, and based on the crazed look on his face, he was expecting me to start moving immediately.

We stared each other down for a moment before his whole body jerked forward, hands yanking on the cuffs. It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic struggles, but I still didn’t have quite what I wanted yet. Raising my hips up, I quickly slammed them down, pulling the loudest groan I’d heard from Spencer. When I didn’t move again, he started squirming underneath me, and I asked, “What is it you want me to do, Mouse?”

Then he broke, his strangled pleas music to my ears, “God, fuck me, please, just fuck me!”

I grinned as I captured his lips in a vicious kiss, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. Steadying myself with my palm on his chest, I lifted my hips up, only to let them fall back into his lap. I started slower than either of us wanted, letting myself adjust to his full size before bouncing freely on his dick. The sounds of our heavy moans filled the air, sweat collecting on our bodies.

I was honestly surprised at how long Spencer had lasted when he let out one final shriek before coming undone below me. He’d given up, completely relaxed on the floor as I started chasing my second orgasm. Spencer peered up at me through hooded eyes, and soon enough starting letting out cries, and I knew I was pushing him. I didn’t want to completely overwhelm him but I was so close…

I wouldn’t get there, not yet anyway, because Spencer did something I was not expecting. The couch hit the floor with a loud thud, giving Spencer the freedom to move his arms. He wrapped the chain of the cuffs around the back of my neck and flipped me over in one swift motion, almost identical to how I’d just done it to him.

I was completely caught off guard, and let a surprised squeak leave my lips. I was almost impressed. Almost.

As if he could see straight into my mind, Spencer remarked, “I’m a quick study.” His entire body weight was over me, and there was very little wiggle room for an escape.

I followed Spencer’s eyes as he scanned around the room, glanced at his wrists, then sighed when he spotted his pants. Must’ve been where he put the key.

I raised my pitch and snidely sang like a schoolgirl, “Whatcha gonna do Mouse? You gonna fuck me like the inmate you are, or are you gonna free yourself, hm?”

Pressing his hands down on either side of my perfectly laid out ones above my head, the chain between the cuffs digging into my forearms, he chided, “I’m sure I can handle you just fine with them on. I’m not quite done with you yet, Jailbird.”

My walls fluttered around his cock at the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat that accompanied it. It’s as if he’s chained to me. I shuddered happily at the thought.

“Is that what this is about?” Spencer hissed, clearly catching my pleased look and the way my pussy pulled him in a little more at his harsh words, “You just enjoy seeing me as some twisted killer?”

“I enjoy seeing you for who you truly are.”

I wasn’t able to form another coherent thought after that one, the pace Spencer was pounding into me like one I’d never felt. He fucked his cum from only seconds ago back into me, the wet sound of our mixing fluids filling the room. I could barely focus on where his hands had moved to, teasing my nipples, because the fire between my legs was jumping higher and higher. As it finally burned through me in the sweetest way possible, I reached to grab onto anything, the first thing my fingers found being Spencer’s hair. He growled when I tugged, but his pace never let up.

As I came down from my high, Spencer didn’t stop. The feelings were becoming too strong, too overpowering, pleasure bordering on pain. I tried to pull my hips away from his, but there was nothing I could do. To stop my squirming, he sat back slightly and pressed his large palms down on my hip bones. Moving also changed the angle he was slamming into me, now bottoming out with each thrust. I needed some reprieve.

“Spencer,” I whined, but there was a nothingness in his eyes.

His hands snaked up to my throat, applying massive pressure to my windpipe. “Is this what you wanted?” Spencer yelled, “Is this what you think I truly am?”

I was having trouble getting the air into my lungs, let alone respond. I wanted to force him to face his reality of being an ex-con, knowing how shitty it was to be on the inside and just letting me sit in there. A consequence of my own actions, but considering I was doing it to save him, I was looking for a little bit more effort on the getting out process.

But he’d left me in there. He didn’t care. He didn’t care despite the fact that he knew what I was going through, that I could tell he was still dealing with his own PTSD and not well, and that everything had changed for him. People looked at him and treated him differently. He was a different person. Corrupt. And he’d only been in there for not even three months.

I’d been in there for five times as long.

I wanted him to realize just how much damage him and his useless team were doing to me by not helping me get out. I wanted him to realize how fucked up that was, and how terrible of a person that made him. I wanted him to realize he was just as big of a monster as I was.

I accomplished that. But I underestimated how much darkness he’d really been holding back.

My head started to feel light, and I could tell I was on the brink of my third release. The sound of skin slapping skin was sinful and I couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his tip hitting my a-spot, the way my legs were shaking around his body, the way the muscles in his back felt against my nails as I clawed them down it. My release came quicker than Spencer’s, who wasn’t too far behind me. His thrusts became shallower, as he spilled into me for the second time. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of me in an instant, along with my anger and hatred. Spencer rolled off of me, and I saw his figure weakly collapse to the ground.

It was an eerie calm, the sound of absolute nothingness, the only disturbance being our labored breathing.

I didn’t know how long it’d been when Spencer’s voice, the softest I’d heard it since the day’s start, whispered, “Are you okay?”

I glanced at him with a confused look. He let out a small sigh at my non response, collecting himself before walking over to his long forgotten pants for the cuffs key. After freeing his wrists, he walked back over to me and helped me up, ushering me to the bathroom.

I could tell he was examining me, but it wasn’t until I stood in front of the mirror that I realized why. “Look at those bruises around your neck, Jailbird. They suit you.”

The bruises were deep and already turning a nice purple. I scanned the rest of me finding more bruises on my hips, thighs, shoulders, wrists, and not to mention the bite mark on my collar. I scanned Spencer next, his only bruises coming from his wrists and the red marks I left on his back. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

He met my eyes in the mirror, “What were you expecting?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I truly didn’t. I went into it knowing I wanted to force him to see everything he had, everything he was, but I guess I didn’t really think about what that would force me to see. My exhaustion started to give way to a heap of emotions, and a single, involuntary tear escaped my eye. Spencer brushed his fingers over my neck, simultaneously pulling my hair behind my shoulder.

He kissed the tender, bruised skin, and I remembered the times before, the times when it felt like we’d really been in love. I felt his breath on me as he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I turned on my heels to face him, “You didn’t.”

I didn’t know what compelled him to confess what I never thought he would, but he sounded deeply ashamed when admitting, “I wanted to.”

“What stopped you?” I was genuinely curious. We’d hurt each other in the most extreme ways before today, getting the other sent to a cage in hell, betraying each other.

“I’m broken, but I’m not beyond repair, and hurting you would make me someone that I don’t want to be.”

I gave him a tired smile, and all I could muster was, “Pretty convincing.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” I assured him. It was the truth.

“I should’ve,” he bit, looking down at his hands, which were so delicately holding my waist I couldn’t be sure he was even touching me.

“Why?” I questioned, the seriousness evident in my voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head, and a stray curl or two tickled my forehead. “I could’ve.”

“I trusted you not to.” I clasped my hands together and rested them on his back.

Spencer’s shaky voice matched his glistening eyes as they locked with mine, “I just wasn’t sure. All I know is that I scare myself sometimes.”

I pressed my forehead against his own, “Well, then I guess we’re two people who have nothing to fear other than ourselves.”

Read the full series

Taging some people:

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx @andiebeaword @psychicdonuts @aperrywilliams @goldentournesol @homoose

#spencer reid smut #aundreya chambers #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x oc #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #bau #hotch #morgan #garcia

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hexalene · 4 years ago

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What's your wildest cruise ship story?

Oh shit I meant to post this sooner whoops

I have less “ONE BIG THING” stories and more of like, a series of surreal Events that happened to me over the course of the years and years I went on cruises (my family could go on cruises for free, so we abused the shit out of that for reunions and vacations for a long time)

So here’s a few of those, and I SWEAR TO GOD they’re real, and I might have photos buried somewhere to prove some of them, but idk, that’s like effort.

-I loved wandering around ships super super early in the morning. Like, crack of dawn early. I’d usually go hang out on one of the open floor restaurant areas around the middle of the ship, which had built in window seats you could curl up in. Pillows n shit too. Super comfy. I’d draw and listen to music, ect. One morning, I looked up and saw the Black fucking Pearl from Pirates of the Caribbean sailing by. Did not believe my eyes. It and four other ships, two of which were for non-pirate movies, were being sailed into a bay on the island we were headed to. I did manage to get a distant shot of it when I got on land.

-In 2006 (date relevant) I met two men in two different families, who were not related and had never met, named Tony Stark. As this was before the movie came out, I was left tragically alone with no one to be awed at this strange coincidence with me. One of them was even a dark haired man with a nice goatee.

(The other was a cute chubby grandpa type)

-Given the opportunity to demonstrate how corporations rig the system against the consumer, my father brought me down to the casino level and sat down across from a very fancy claw machine that dispensed iPads and other expensive tech prizes. He told me, “some people will win, and I’ll tell you when they will.”

I was like “okay dad sure” but we sat there for HOURS, and dad would say “okay, this guy will win if he goes for this prize” or “this guy will lose” and finally, “that woman will win an iPad.” Of course, most were losers, but he was DEAD ON every time someone would win. After a while he explained that the machine would only dispense prizes after collecting the money to pay for two more of whatever was won. He’d just sat there and done the math on the people playing the game and when it added up, he’d wait to see what they went for and let me know if they won. It had absolutely nothing to do with skill.

To make his point, he waited, counting out loud the money being put in, before standing up and slapping the button randomly on one of the lower rank prizes. He won an otter box phone case and told me that no one will ever give you the chance to win out at a loss to themselves, so don’t make a bet unless you’ve rigged the game to win. I was 14.

-uhhh what else

-The dance troupe arranged to do shows suffered a tragic undisclosed accident, so the short term bullshit to entertain people in the theatre was an honest to god passenger led talent show. Surreal on its own, but one of the passengers was a contortionist, and ran off to get their suitcase.

Now, they did a lot of fun bendy stuff, very weird, very cool, but they asked for volunteers at one point. I, my sister, our cousin, and two other kids were asked to come on stage. I was the oldest, maybe 12/13ish, my sister and cousin were 9, and the other two kids were between 6-9.

This MADMAN, without straining any of us to bend in any weird or uncomfortable way, managed to fit all five of us into his empty suitcase. I was in the damn thing and I have no idea how he managed it. He then zipped us all up inside and walked around the stage a bit. And it was fine, like not uncomfortable or hard to breath or anything!

I remember getting out of the suitcase clearest of all. We’d all been fit inside so snugly, in this order:

Me, stranger kid 1, cousin, sister, and stranger kid 2. To get us out, he lay the case flat and lifted my sister up. Somehow this like??? Was like those monkey in a barrel toys, we all just neatly unfolded with her, no tripping or falling or anything. That feeling, where one moment I’m staring at my cousins’ feet and some other kid’s elbow, and then I see the dude lift my sister and then all of us just RISE WITH IT and unfold like a flower blooming I have no idea if this makes any sense at all but it felt magical.

- Something bad happened back home, but we didn’t know what. My dad had a business meeting but mom wanted to see the beach. We got off the ship, and like, HARDCORE struggled to find a way to get to a beach, any beach. We were in....Mexico, somewhere in the neighborhood of Chichén Itzá, maybe an island nearby I think? There were some massive ruins somewhere, I remember that much.

While mom hunted down a beach, my siblings and I sat under a giant box fan, near a TV. Something was happening, the employees were changing the channel, trying to find the clearest signal to the American news. I remember looking over at the grainy footage being interrupted by commercials and other signals and piecing together through the static and the employee trying to translate that back home, the 2008 financial crash was happening and that mom’s insistence that we find a beach and have fun was because that business meeting dad had stayed behind to deal with was him trying to make sure we’d still have a house to live in when we got back to the states, and she didn’t know if this would be the last truly carefree time we had before we went home to face the music.

-However, mom’s eternal struggles to find a beach didn’t begin in 2008. The previous trip we’d taken had another Beach Adventure.

That time, it was also just mom and the siblings. I don’t remember why dad was staying behind, maybe a poker tournament or something?

We disembarked and the struggle began. Nothing was in English, other than the scant few signs the cruise ship put out to guide passengers off the docks. However, THIS was not a problem, as I was about as fluent in Spanish as a third grader restricted to the present tense, and this worked well enough to get us around.

There was a massive bus to a beach, just PACKED to the gills with Americans. As we waited in line, a nondescript man came up to us, and said, “that bus will go to a very crowded beach with many other passengers of other ships. I know a better beach, and cheap! I’ll charge only half of what that bus will charge you and my beach is much much nicer!”

You might be thinking that common sense would tell us not to get in a random unmarked car with an un-uniformed man offering an amazing half off deal to a perfect isolated beach in broken English on a largely rural island, wouldn’t you? You’d be wrong.

My mother is a sweet devout catholic lady with a hidden core of raw chaos. Her idea of a nice day out in the snow with her tiny children was to strap us in the back, drive to the massive Schnuck’s parking lot, gun it up to 90mph, and hydroplane/drift like a fucking drag racer across the ice, laughing. Common sense does not exist in any normal capacity in this woman.

We spent an incredibly tense, silent, 45 minutes driving into the wilderness packed into a tiny car with no AC, sweating with heat and nerves as he drove us out in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the driver pulls over. There is literally nothing but trees and cliffs for miles and miles. Mom is clutching my hand, my baby brother, and her knitting needles. The driver runs quickly to the center of the road, leans over, and picks up a huge tortoise that had frozen up when his car approached. He carried it over to the grass, and pat it goodbye.

Before he comes back Mom turns and looks at me and says, “a serial killer probably wouldn’t save a turtle, I think we’ll be okay.”

#uhhhh I have others I guess #I got lost in a partially submerged cave/river system thing and thought I was about to be That White Person in a horror movie #I had a stalker who would wait until I was alone and then try to tell me I was breaking rules or some shit #not sure what his motive was but his wife would help with the stalking #there was another teenager who was convinced we had been best friends in elementary school but I had never lived in Texas #the gift shops could be funny #the kid/teen dance clubs were HILARIOUSLY dated #idk if I ponder this for a while more will come to mind lmao #my favorite thing was the storms when the ships would tilt at wild angles #my dad and I have stomachs of steel apparently so we’d go camp out on the main decks and act as purposefully casual as possible #people would be flailing all over the place and we’d just keep our balance and coffee mugs tilted with the waves #comedy gold #asks!#long post

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daze-stole-ur-milk · 3 years ago

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Today I draw

Lately I’ve been thinking about drawing anatomy and poses, and how I am not the best at it. Not in a way that means I am completely unable to draw people but in a way that it just takes me hours. It takes me hours to draw a pose that I feel satisfied with. That feels right.

So I decided to try out a quick pose exercise that I heard someone mention helped them out.

Basically you draw a certain amount of sketches using random references as fast as possible before you run out of time. So I typed the website into my search bar, quickposses.com.

And I got straight into it. Ten sketches each within 1 minute. And it was really fun! I didn’t finish a single picture but I didn’t really care!

Although I ran into a complication that I totally could have prevented if I had just slowed down and read my options. The website was pretty straightforward. Right of the bat you would see types of references that you could use: gender, face, poses, hands, all that generic stuff.

But, I didn’t really specify what I wanted to draw, only the amount and time. That was a mistake as the moment the time for the 4th picture was done and the 5th came up I saw there in the middle of the screen a dingaly ding dong.

My poor innocent eyes have never seen such a thing before. (That time I decided to try omegle out when I was ten doesn’t count.)

Today is the first of April.

I’ve been drawing poses for a couple of days with the website and It’s been really fun. I've gotten used to the naked people. I know I can get rid of them but, I was going to have to get used to naked references at one point or another. Might as well let it be now.

Today is the 3rd of April.

I lost my IPad’s charger so I’ve been sketching in my sketch book that I haven’t used in months. That’s probably a good thing.

I have also given myself more time to draw, because sixty seconds goes by so quickly when you’re doing something.

I’m already noticing improvements in the way I sketch poses and the anatomy. Before I started sketching daily I fixated on parts that I thought weren’t perfect. Now? I’m like, I don’t have time for this shit I’ll come back to you later. Sometimes I actually go back to fix things, sometimes I don’t. And I think I’m better for it.

Fourth of april

I really like some of the sketches I’ve done so I have decided to finish some of the ones that I drew today.

Sixth of April

I decided to give myself an off day yesterday, I was beginning to feel burnt out. Although this has been fun, too much of anything isn’t good. I will now be allowing myself 1 off day.

Ninth of april

Yesterday I didn't sketch anything but I finished an illustration so it's fine. So here are the rules that I will be enforcing on myself from now on.

I am allowed 1 off day per week.

If I completed an illustration on that day I don’t have to sketch.

Here's my next entry

•24th of April

This is a journal of sorts that I've been writing down for a while now and I've decided to post it online.

Here a couple of my favorite sketches.

Yes, I know that is just a leg with a floating box above of it. And I love it.

#Today I draw #art #drawing #digital art #artists on tumblr #Progress #learning #journal #art journal #art journey #my art #daze's art #Daze’s art #Daze’s post

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xxmisty · 4 years ago

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My Big Humiliating Torchwood Confession - Part 1 :P

Warning: this will be a LONG post, and i’m sorry about that!

Lucy is sat opposite me asking me repeatedly if I’ve started typing yet because she knows how desperately i’m putting off making this post!!1

This is awful, this is.... probably the most embarrassingly intimate confession i’ll have made since the day I opened up about my fetish way back at the start of 2013. And on the surface of it it probably doesn’t seem like that big of a deal but IT IS TO ME! And a big chunk of the trauma i’m about to express is tongue in cheek but it’s genuinely been - and continues to be - a huge bundle of DISTRESS AND HUMILIATION AND UTTER RESENTMENT!!! Because this year has been.... one hell of a personal journey and i don’t even mean anything to do with the pandemic.

It all started on New Year’s Day. I was feeling horrendously ill; the miraculous medication that had started to give me my life back had run out and thanks to the festive postal delays my new lot hadn’t arrived yet. I was in agony, I had a horrible headache, I felt sick and I could hardly move. We spent the day watching a bunch of muppet stuff, and that night we watched the first ep of season 12 of Doctor Who and, y’know, it was a pretty damn good episode (plus thirteen in the suit.... fuuckkk)

So afterwards we started having a discussion about Chris Chibnall - we’ve long held criticisms about some of his writing (not all of it, but it’s a mixed bag) and Lucy told me I still hadn’t seen his worst writing because that was for Torchwood...

Which I had never seen. Which I had been desperately trying not to see, although I didn’t know why. I just always had this vibe like a big “NO ENTRY!” sign at the idea of ever watching it. It’s not as though I had a logical reason for it, it’s not like I’d read up about it and thought, ‘naahhhhhh, I don’t fancy watching that’. I just had a big WARNING sign in my head, telling me not to go there.

Several years ago Lucy made me watch the first episode (after i’d been avoiding her threats of showing it to me for like 2 years) and like... it wasn’t horrible? It wasn’t... great either... but it didn’t kill me. Then a couple of years ago she showed me Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang because we were having a big Runaways phase so she wanted to show me an episode with James Marsters in. Again, it didn’t kill me. It wasn’t horrible. But I still had those big NO ENTRY!!! signs up in my head. I was still trying desperately to avoid actually being shown Torchwood as a show.

And the the new year happened and I was too WEAK AND DEFENCELESS to know what was happening when Lucy and I cuddled up in bed that night. I was too sick to really comprehend what she was doing or to fight back when she announced she was going to show me the very worst of Chris Chibnall’s writing... and put on Day One followed by Cyberwoman.

Oh. My. God.

All day I had been in a state of physical agony. Suddenly my mental and emotional state was far, FAR worse!!! The sex gas alien was bad enough, then by the time she put on Cyberwoman my brain was trying to shut down. I used to suffer blackouts and, god, I kept blacking out all the way through it, and instead of being her usual loving, wonderful self she KEPT FORCING ME TO COME ROUND TO WATCH IT!!!

By this point it was gone midnight and I was in a state of utter distress!! This was the worst double helping of tv I had ever sat through in my life and I sat up and let forth a tirade of absolute distress! This, I decided, had to be the reason I’d been avoiding Torchwood. Because it was more like.... Torurewood :P

Yep, that had to be it. Couldn’t possibly be anything worse, could it?

At least now lucy had shown me those two terrible Chibnall eps I would NEVER EVER HAVE TO WATCH THEM AGAIN. Or ANY Torchwood episodes. Yes, my ordeal was over. Had to be.

Nope. We went back to bed and she put on Out if Time. And i’ll admit, the story was much stronger but goddddd I had issues with the endings! And my level of despair started to rise even higher. I HATED Torchwood! This was the most distressing night’s viewing ever and I just wanted to go to sleep and be done with it all! Lucy put one more episode on afterwards: They Keep Killing Suzie. And that was much better but halfway through we finally fell asleep - so surely my trauma was over with.

Nope.

I had horrible nightmares of a very thirsty Gwen coming onto me all night, over and over again and it was HORRIBLE!!! Like, you have no idea how distressed I was! And when I woke up I blamed lucy whole-heartedly and she very sympathetically laughed at my plight!

But yeah. My trauma was over. No more Torchwood. I’d suffered the night from hell. Now it was time to pick up the pieces of my shattered life and move on! My medication arrived that day, I started work on some new pet portraits and life went back to normal.

Until that night, when I saw the telltale sign of Lucy putting a video on and turning her iPad around and then there they were - the opening titles of Torchwood - and I wanted to jump out the boat and into the canal and swim as far away as possible!!!

But the episode she put on was Fragments. She said she wanted to show me Chris Chibnall’s finest episode. And y’know what? It was really pretty fucking good. And god, I was fURIOUS about that!!! When we went to bed she pulled a real double whammy though by putting on Adam - which became instantly one of my favourite episodes of ANYTHING, EVER. And I looked at my wife, shook my head, sighed and told her, ‘nice save, Lucy... nice save...’

Over the next couple of weeks we also had a major Doctor Who rewatch and revisited most of the New Who era, and - to my mixed feelings - she dotted various other episodes of Torchwood in around them. I was conflicted - after the Adam and Fragments double bill I was no longer in brain-screamy hatred territory. I did however keep having flashbacks to that godawful night. Plus i’d had several further nightmares about a thirsty Gwen and I did NOT like it! But by a couple of weeks into January I’d seen a fair bit of Torchwood. Some of them twice.

Around this same time I’d started back in testosterone after not being able to afford it for the last 3 years. And then I started to notice I was getting some..... urghhhhhh..... unusual... and very uncomfortable feelings... about certain.... things... and characters.

And I started falling headlong into a great big gay panic :P

And here’s where the whole story becomes a HELL of a lot more embarrassing so i’m going to put it under a read more :P

Did ya click on that read more? Wh-why? there’s nothing to see here... especially not a long tale of shame and distress :P ugggghhhhhhh ok, FINE;

Basically there were two things happening at the same time. One was that I started to feel something I hadn’t felt in two decades. When I was a kid/teen we didn’t have the phrase ‘hyperfixation’ so I just called them obsessions. I always had obsessions, at any given point there was always this ONE THING that was my entire life. i lived it, breathed it, became it. It was my whole world, my whole personality, my focus, my lifeline. 9 times out of 10 it would be a tv show. Between the ages of 12 and 15 I would generally change my obsession about once a month. There were several ‘usual suspects’ that would cycle around over and over - Red Dwarf, The Brittas Empire, Sonic the Hedgehog, Halfway Across the Galaxy, Parallel 9, Out of this World...

late in 1995 I became obsessed with The X Files and - bizarrely - that obsession just ran and ran. I was so used to my obsession changing around once every month that it was bizarre to still be absolutely hyperfixated on it almost 9 months later. And then, in June 1996, my longest ever obsession took its place, a little known uk fantasy show called Bugs.

That... was my longest running obsession. And oh my god, was I ever obsessed with it. I have no idea how that one obsession kept going for 3 years. i’m sorry this is particularly wordy but this is kind of personal and I want to explain this right.

If you’ve been following me for a while you’ll probably known that one of the most defining moments of my life happened in the summer of ‘98. My cousin’s husband sexually assaulted me and my life spiralled into total despair. While that night was bad enough, the slow breakdown I went through over the course of the year that followed was harder to recover from. And eventually I came out the other side to some degree but i’d lost my love of three things that made me the person I was: writing, drawing and being obsessed. All three were so closely entangled with that night and surviving afterwards that it changed something that had always been a fundamental part of me.

I was no longer able to feel obsession. To hyperfixate the way I previously had. It was like something was broken inside me. And that was like a loss unto itself. It was SUCH a big part of me. It had been the only way i’d survived years of depression when I was young. My obsessions were what kept me afloat.

In the last decade there are a few things that I called ‘obsessions’ and I thought were as close as I would ever get to the way I used to feel. I thought maybe it was because i’d ‘grown up’ (pah). That’s not to say that i wasn't thoroughly into Ashes to Ashes, FNAF and Homestuck, for example, because of course I was! I even called them obsessions, but there was something that just... wasn’t the same, no matter what I did.

And over time, I got back the other things I’d lost. I started writing my A2A fics in 2010 and Lucy helped me to start drawing again in 2018 and god, both times it was like finally having a piece of myself returned after so long! As for my ‘obsessions’, I just thought I wasn't able to feel the way I used to because I wasn’t a kid any more.

But then, I thought that about Christmas Eve too, and then lucy came into my life <3

Still, the last thing I was expecting was... for *those* feelings to start sneaking back in my life. Feelings I hadn’t been able to experience since the summer of 1998-9. And to my further distress I discovered that they were relating to a certain show that I’d had a traumatising introduction to on new year’s day...

Suddenly it was all I could think about; TORCHWOOD! TORCHWOOD! Aargghhhhh and yet I still hated it! It was still awful! And yet... at the same time... it was so goooooooood.... arghhhhh, every time we watched an episode there was a knife twisting in my guts, reminding me that I hadn’t even felt these feelings over things we’d been HUGELY into... the fandoms we’d met through, the fandoms we discovered together. Nope. It was Torchwood that brought back my ability to hyperfixate! And I have SO MANY ANGRY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS!!!! Grrrrrrrrr!!

And believe me, I kept thinking it was going to stop and go away BUT IT HASN’T! It’s only gotten worse! And as of yesterday Torchwood officially became my second longest obsession ever!!!

I. AM. FURIOUS!!!

It’s... urrghhhh I hate this fact but it’s almost like I have a crush on the *show*??!!! I... can’t explain it better than that??? It’s like, if I could throw Torchwood on the bed and make sweet, sweet love to it I would :P and yeah, i’m saying all of this tongue in cheek but i’ve had a fucking sky high libido ever since I went back on T (ohhhhh and believe me I am LOVING it!!! 💙💙💙) But it’s like... there are elements of Torchwood itself that are so fucking hot that I get.... reactions that I am SO FUCKING EMBARRASSED ABOUT for so many reasons deidjdhdggjhaaahhhhhhhhh

Lucy literally only has to say ‘Torchwood’ at me and I end up in a gibbering heap half the time - I am not even kidding!!!

This, however, is NOT the worst thing that happened as a result of Lucy making me watch this god damned show.

But honestly this post has gone on WAY too long already so i’m going to save that for part 2.

Oh god... my shame.... my total and utter shame....

To be continued :P

#torchwood #about me #me #obsessions #hyperfixation #moirspritmaterail blogging #Lucy is MEAN!!!#my posts

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all1e23 · 6 years ago

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Astrophile [Pt.9]

Chapter: Stardust

Summary: Bucky & Y/n spend the day apart, but find themselves struggling to make it through the day.

Warnings: Flirting. Fluff. Sweet Tony. Sweet Bucky. Slightly sad Bucky but only for a second!

A/N: Bucko is a little sad at the start, but I don’t consider it angsty at all. Progress babies. Progress. 😉Send me love because I’m needy, okay?! Plus all your comments make my day. Beta’d by the beautiful and talented @lokissoul I love you 3000.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

“What’s been going on with you lately?”

Bucky rolls the glass bottle between his palms and shrugs in answer, glancing up at whatever game was on behind the bar to avoid Steve’s probing glare. They have been in this pub for over an hour now, and Bucky has no idea what game he’s been pretending to watch, and he hasn’t heard a word Steve has said. As much as he wants to throw himself wholeheartedly into tonight, he can’t. Bucky hasn’t seen Y/n in over a week, he had to take an extra shift, so he’s had less time with Comet and with everything going today, neither he nor Y/n have had a minute to talk to each other. The last message he got from her was a quick good morning text, but he had a feeling she only sent it because he sent her a message first.

Today is not Bucky’s day.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bucky answers, distracted and withdrawn.

“We haven’t talked in weeks. I don't even know what’s going with you. Clint knows more about you than I do. You’re always glued to your phone waiting for a certain bookstore owner to call, and if you’re not on the phone with Y/n, you’re talking about her.”

“Nothing to talk about there, Stevie,” He sighs and tips his empty beer towards the bartender, slightly asking for another round. “We are friends. She’s been dating Tony for about a month. I don’t know. Seems to be going good. I guess their first date was amazing, and all that sappy love at first sight shit.”

“Not what I heard,” Steve mumbles against the lip of the bottle in his hands. “I heard she hated the restaurant and talked about you the whole date.”

“It wasn’t the whole date, and I don’t think she hated it.”

Bucky shifts restlessly in his seat, forcing himself to not look at Steve, using the bartender returning with their beers as his excuse – Steve isn’t buying it.

“Did – did she say that she did?”

Steve snorts at the stutter in the brunette’s voice and the painfully transparent way he’s been dodging Steve’s glances from the moment Y/n was mentioned. He nods his thanks to the bartender and spins around on his stool to face his friend. “Buck, come on. I’ve never seen you like this. Tell me what’s going on with her?”

“There’s nothing to say, man.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs, drumming his fingers against the bottle in his hands. “What if – Don’t give me that pissed off face. Just hear me out. What if the reason Y/n jumps up when you call or smiles every time you’re around, or I don’t know, spends all day talking to you and about you is that maybe, just maybe there’s something there for her, too.”

“Steve–”

“Hear me out, Buck.” Steve cuts him off before Bucky has time to tell him to shut up. “You have to know she is different. You’ve been different since she came along.”

Bucky hangs his head in defeat or annoyance he’s not even sure, and if he tightens his grip in the slightest there are going to be shards of broken glass all over the place.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Bucky asks, forcing as much annoyance into his voice as he can – he needs to be done with this conversation.

“Anything else besides her?”

“Alright,” Steve spins back around towards the bar, his leg bouncing nervously, and suddenly he blurts out, “Sam, and I are going to adopt a little boy, I think.”

Bucky chokes on his beer, spilling damn near half the bottle on the bartop making Steve grin.

“What?!” Bucky Shrieks. “You can’t just drop that shit on me.”

Steve shrugs looking complacent and not sorry in the least.

“When the hell did this happen?” Bucky asks, wiping himself and the bartop off.

“Remember Zoey from the gym?”

Bucky rolls his eyes but nods anyway.

“Well, it’s kind of her fault. We ran into her, and she was out with her nephew, and I don’t know honestly. Sam was talking to him and playing and…” Steve smiles and shakes his head.

“We are finally ready, I think.”

“That’s awesome, Stevie.” Bucky pats Steve on his back, drying his beer-soaked hand on his shirt. “You’re gonna be amazing parents. Ori might get a little jealous when she realizes she has to share her uncles, but I think it’s about damn time, to be honest.”

“She doesn’t have to share. I can make time for both of them. Babies sleep a lot, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles. “You don’t remember much from when Ori was a baby, do ya?”

“You’re a jerk,” Steve murmurs.

“Uh-huh. You gonna tell me why you didn’t tell me sooner, punk?”

“We started the process a few months ago, but I didn’t want to say anything until we were sure it was happening.”

“You’re sure now?” Bucky asks, not judging, purely out of curiosity.

“Yeah, I know we are,” Steve assured him, firm and sincere. “And, this isn’t because we are missing anything because we absolutely are not missing anything. Sam is all I could ever need, but – I don’t know to explain it. It was like once we met him everything kind of clicked, and it made everything brighter, more meaningful. Now that we know him-- Now that we know Oliver, I don’t think we could go back to a time without him.”

Bucky stares at the amber glass in his hand swallowing the knot in his throat, Steve nudges his elbow grinning widely, and Bucky forces the best smile he can muster.

“You know what I mean?” Steve asks, hope and excitement filling his voice. Bucky wants to be excited for them, and he is, but his mind is somewhere else tonight – somewhere wrapped in story pages and stardust.

“Yeah,” He sighs, “I know what you mean, man.”

-------

Today has been a complete nightmare.

Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s just been a stressful, long day and the nightmare started last night. It began with her neighbors flooding her bedroom the night before and being forced to stay in Manhattan with Tony. She would have asked Natasha or… someone else who lived closer but Tony was dropping her off when they discovered the mess that was her apartment.

Thankfully Tony was there to save the day.

The incident, however, meant the bookstore was closed for the day while they cleaned up her apartment and Y/n had to plan Ori’s party from Tony’s penthouse, which wasn’t winning any prizes for the coziest spot. It’s not that Tony didn’t have a beautiful place, he did. He was in the middle of Manhattan with the perfect view in every direction. High windows, marble floors and beautiful artwork on the walls. There were some questionable paintings hanging that she wanted to question but didn’t. He had a preposterously fancy couch, and the view off the balcony was breathtaking first thing in the morning. Sure, the view is nice, a chef is on-site, and Tony is always sweet, but it feels wrong.

The couch, with as much money as Tony spent on the thing, it should actually be comfortable! It’s hard, the back has awkward cushions and they doesn’t squish down like Bucky’s does. The arms are skinny and unyielding - there is no way she could curl up on that thing and watch a movie. The entire place is so clean she felt bad laying all party planning books and idea boards out on the table this morning. Tony had insisted it was fine, but it still felt strange to muck up his astonishingly tidy living room.

Tony left her be for most of the day, he had work to do, and she was busy planning a starry birthday bash. He had stopped in to check on her throughout and asked more than once, why don’t you just use that Pinterest website everyone uses? Or at least make all those lists on your phone?

She always replied the same, I prefer handwritten notes, Tony. Then I can doodle in the corners.

Out of everything? The thing she hates most about today? Bucky hasn’t sent her a text all day, except for the quick good morning he sent her which she is almost certain was Ori’s doing. Bucky wouldn’t think to send her a message like that first thing in the morning. It had bothered her quite a bit, and she wasn’t the only one who noticed her sour mood. Tony watches Y/n chewing on the end of her pen from his seat across his living room. She’s been staring at her notepad for nearly an hour now, occasionally glancing over at her phone (that hasn’t gone off since this morning).

Something is cooking in that pretty head of hers, and he is going to figure out what. He drops his iPad to the table and strolls over to the couch. Her focus is solely on what’s laying on her lap, he runs his hand up her bare leg stopping mid-thigh right below her shorts and sits down on the coffee table in front of her – she doesn’t seem to notice he is even there. She’s lost in star-shaped Rice Krispies Treats, recipes for the perfect moon rocks and what appears to be every space themed decoration she can think of.

“You’re doing all this for Bucky’s kid?” Tony inquires, giving a gentle but firm squeeze to her thigh. The mix of his voice and the tickle to her inner thigh seems to grab her attention, but there is still a little something indifferent in her eyes.

“Yes, I’m doing all of this for Ori and for Bucky. Bucky and I are friends,” Y/n explained, credulously and matter-of-factly.

Tony can’t help but smile at her. He leans forward and kisses her forehead, whispering against her skin, "You’re adorably naive sometimes.”

The edges of her mouth curl down into a deep frown, and her brows draw together. “What does that mean?”

“Listen,” Tony begged, ignoring her question. They can talk about that after Ori’s party. “I’ve got an idea for baby Barnes’s birthday if you’re okay letting me help?”

“Depends on what it is?”

“You said her favorite place is your bookstore, right?”

“Yeah, I mean that’s what she said, but I can’t have the party there. I would have to move all the shelves, my apartment is still a mess, and I have no room to cook anything there. I think Bucky just wants to cook burgers or something and,” She hesitates, nervously drumming the end of her pen against her knee until Tony snatches it out of her hand.

“And… what? You’re killing me with the suspense.”

“I’m not family,” she whispers, so soft that Tony has to strain to hear it. “I think they were going to do it at Steve’s because they have the deck out back and well, he’s her uncle. I’m just some girl that owns a bookstore.”

This is something Tony can’t let go. Tony grabs the notepad from her hands, tossing it and the pen onto the couch and pulls Y/n forward by her hands.

“Your apartment will be fine. I’ll make sure it gets done, and the shelves are not a big deal. Her dad and uncles have muscles coming out of their ass–” They both wince at his choice of words. “– Sorry. That was vivid even for me. Point is we can move them, and I can pay for a caterer. Don’t even try to fight me on that one. It can be my present, and as for the rest, you are far more than just a girl that owns a bookstore to that little girl and particularly to Bucky.”

A wide grin slowly stretches across Y/n’s face, and Tony does not like the smugness of that smirk.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t like one bit.

“You’re pretty sweet when you want to be,” She says, still beaming.

Tony reaches forward and covers her mouth with his hand whispering dramatically as he does, “Shh, don’t say that so loud. There are spies everywhere!”

A muffled giggle slips through his fingers, and she places a soft kiss to the palm of his hand.

“Thank you,” She manages once he drops his hand.

“I like the idea as long as Bucky is okay with it.” Her eyes wander back to her phone on the table next to Tony’s thigh, and it doesn’t have to be said – he can see it written all over her face.

“You wanna call him right now, don’t you?”

She gives Tony an apologetic smile with a small shrug. It’s supposed to be their date night, but she is not going to relax till she talks to Bucky and gets this party sorted – they both know it. Tony rolls his eyes affectionately and waves his hand towards the balcony as he stands.

“I have to change before we go out anyway. Go, make your call.”

Y/n slips out onto the terrace as Tony disappears into his bedroom. There is a moment of hesitation before she makes herself to dial Bucky’s number. They hadn’t talked all day, Y/n thought it was because he was busy, but maybe he didn’t want to talk? They aren’t family, they are brarey friends and she could be bothering him--

“Hey, Beck,” Bucky’s soft greeting makes her skin prickle and her worry fades away when instantly.

“Hi,” Y/n sighs, content and somehow lighter from two simple words.

“Hi,” Bucky breathes into the phone with a huge grin on his face, his nerves finally settling for the first time all day. He’s not sure how she does that when they are a good twenty miles apart.

“So,” she mutters quietly.

“So,” Bucky repeats with a soft chuckle.

Y/n knows why she called. They need to talk about Ori’s party but now that she has him on the line, for the first time in what feels like forever she doesn’t want to rush him off the phone. She admires the soft orange glow and the pink clouds peeking out over the Manhattan skyline, and she’s never wanted to be back in Brooklyn more than she does right now.

“I’m not sure what all the fuss is about the sunset from Manhattan,” She scoffs. “Personally, I like a good old Brooklyn sunset.”

Dammit. Why does she have to be so perfect? Bucky thinks as he sneaks through Steve’s living room and out the front door– no witnesses needed for this conversation. He spins around to find the sunset peeking through all the buildings. It’s harder to do the deeper you got into Brooklyn, but he was able to spot the peach colored sky. He can’t explain why, he just needs to know they are both looking at the same thing.

“You called me to talk about sunsets, Beck?”

Y/n chuckles and shakes her head as if he can see her but quickly remembers he can’t and answers him with a nervous squeak, “Um, no? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Bucky echoes her words once again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you are about to have dinner with Ori. I just…” I haven’t talked to you all day, and I hate it. She closes her eyes and turns around the block out the nightfall that’s overtaking the orange and slowly fading to plum. “I actually called about Ori’s party. If it’s okay with you, I would like to have it at my shop. I can handle everything. If you just bring the birthday girl.”

“That sounds good,” Bucky whispers, clearing his throat as he turns back around and drops his forehead against the front door – shutting out the dark falling around him, the one that seems to take over when she’s not with him.

“Ori would really love that. Tell me what to buy or set up. I can come early and help move things around.”

“Why are you whispering?” She asks in a hushed tone making him chuckle. “I’m hiding on the front porch at Steve’s. Why are you whispering?” He counters, grinning, foolish, and unabashed.

Y/n giggle softly, and the line goes inexplicably quiet. Bucky slowly lifts his head from the door and turns back around to find the sun was mostly set, he was about to apologize for teasing her when her soft voice drifts through the line, “Let’s not go all day without talking again, okay? I really hated it.”

Sweetest words he’s heard all day.

“God, me too,” He sighs. “Never again. I pinky promise.”

“Buck, you can’t pinky promise. We can’t lock pinkies,” She scolds with total seriousness because that’s just the kind of woman she is. “I’m in Manhattan, and you’re in Brooklyn. It only counts if you hook your pinkies together.”

“Who says we gotta lock, pinkies?” Bucky scoffs, amusement and sincerity filling his words. He may find her entirely adorable, but Bucky needs her to know he means every word – without a doubt.

“Maybe that will be our thing. Pinky promise without the pinky.”

Y/n finds herself unable to stop the ear to ear grin that forms. She drops her head back and looks up to the sky in hopes of catching a glimpse of the stars.

“No more days like today, Y/n. Pinky promise.”

There’s her glimpse. Perfect timing.

“Pinky promise, Buck.”

Previous // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #single dad bucky #fireman!bucky #daddy!bucky #firefighter au #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #alternate universe

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thisnorthernboy · 5 years ago

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Off the radar

Hi all, apologies for the lack of blog posts in the last few months. I've become a little disillusioned with social media lately and that's meant I haven't been posting content as frequently. I'm not sure if that'll change too much, algorithms and the like are taking a bit of the joy out of it. When you post something and it gets half the engagement a similar post was getting a couple of years ago, despite having more than twice the number of followers, it's a bit discouraging.

Anyway, here's what I have been up to since summer.

Patreon. I've continued to work on my Patreon project - Weird Field World. There's a bit of info about it here. I'm really enjoying fleshing out the world, adding background, history, little stories and characters. The engagement with my supporters there is great, and it's very energising to have people to discuss the project with. You can support me here.

Inktober. I failed to finish Inktober this year. I think I just ran out of steam and enthusiasm for the project after a couple of weeks. My plan was to draw a series of little building based, loosely, on the play Under Milk Wood, by Dylan Thomas. I started off OK, but there wasn't, perhaps, quite enough to go on for a whole month of building drawings. I think I managed 14 or 15 in the end. I was reasonably happy with most of them, and I might add one or two more at some point. A bunch of the illustrations are available to buy, so I'll add a separate post soon.

Illustration work. This year has been a disappointment compared to last year. Working on a couple of books, plus work in a couple of magazines, some t-shirt designs and a little concept art work meant that 2018 was by far my best year for paid illustration work. 2019 by comparison has been awful. I've had a steady flow of private commissions this year, but no major commercial work at all. I've worked on concept art for a couple of clients, but both of those projects fizzled out due to publishing or financial issues. It has made me realise that I need to be much more proactive in seeking work, so in the last few weeks I've been getting organised. The year has ended brighter, a few little commercial projects have come in over the last two weeks, and I've had enquiries about a couple more.

Digital Illustration. A year or so ago I bought myself an iPad Pro and Apple Pencil, hoping to dive in to the world of digital illustration. One of the main reasons for doing so was to be able to produce super clean linework that would reproduce well in print. I have found working digitally a huge, and difficult, leap. The simple act of drawing on something other than paper, even with a matt screen protector on the iPad, has taken a huge amount of time to get used to - and there were many times when I thought it simply wasn't going to be possible for me. The turning point was a suggestion from Rob McCallum on Twitter that I simply give up working on paper for a while, and only sketch on the iPad. It might seem like an obvious solution, but to draw digitally, and not get the results you want, for even a day was quite a task for me. Gradually, over the course of a couple of weeks things began to feel more natural. I got used to the feel of the stylus on glass, to the way digital lines worked, how to tweak brush settings to suit my way of drawing. Now, although I still have huge amounts to learn, I really do feel comfortable working on the iPad. I even enjoy it. Part of that is down to just how good the iPad and Pencil are, and how great a piece of software Procreate is. Together they are really quite formidable. Adobe and Wacom should be worried, particularly with the lacklustre release of Photoshop for iPad.

Parklife. I've continued to get out for walks as often as I can, if not as often as I'd like, in Bushy Park. Getting out in to the fresh air, and out in the open is hugely important for me, particularly if I've been stuck at my desk for a few days. I still get a thrill from seeing the variety of wildlife in the park - Red and Fallow deer, woodpeckers, kingfishers, and a huge number of other different bird species. I can't recommend getting out in to the countryside enough. Make the effort if you can, you won't regret it.

Reading. I've struggled to find moments to read this year. Not commuting in to London at all has been one factor - the only good thing about a three hour commute each day is that it gives you three guilt-free hours to read each day. Apart from that I just don't seem to have been in the right frame of mind. Perhaps it's a feeling of guilt - spending time reading when ideally I'd be working - even if I haven't had the work to do this year. I've tried to put things right in the last month or so. I read and thoroughly enjoyed Gareth Powell's sequel to Embers of War - Fleet of Knives. And Ann Leckie's Provenance, set in the Imperial Radch universe she introduced us to in Ancillary Justice, was a great read. Currently I'm reading Wilding by the appropriately named Isabella Tree. It's the story of how she and her (affluent) family set about rewilding large parts of their 1400 acre estate in Sussex.

That's it for now. I'll do my best to post more often. Do let me know if there's anything in particular you'd like me to write about.

You can find prints of my work here

I also have a Patreon page

And you can find more of my work online… Twitter Instagram Facebook Blog

#blogging #blog #illustration #thisnorthernboy

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mysticsparklewings · 5 years ago

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Nightlights in the Deep

At last, I can finally show you guys what's been with the tree fever in my last couple of posts (Terrarium Nova and WIP Wednesday: Oops all Trees)

So the art supply company Arteza madea post on their Instagram a few days ago where they announced a contest to make art featuring trees and post it on Instagram with all the appropriate tags, open until September 26th (with prizes of course) and I thought it would be fun, especially since one of their suggestions was to design a tree.

And I also decided to add a little extra challenge to myself to stick primarily to the Arteza supplies that I have, since it's their contest. That meant I had their watercolors, colored pencils, and woodless watercolor pencils to pick from and play with. Although I did end up using quite a bit of gel pen (Sakura gelly rolls and a little of my white Uni-ball Signo) to get the bright pops of color I just couldn't get with the other supplies. The gel pens felt fairer to supplement with since I usually accent pretty much all my work with gel pen in some form or another.

Naturally, after I gave myself a few minutes to ponder how to stand out among a crowd of trees but also fit right in, my imagination ran wild with my own fictional tree species.

I pretty immediately landed on the idea of an underwater/deep-sea/bottom-of-the-ocean tree and also something with bioluminescence (things that naturally glow in the dark) and from there I starting searching for various tree and water-themed things on Pinterest to flesh out my ideas. From that, I very quickly arrived at the idea of a winding, twisting trunk like you might find on a bonsai tree. And while originally I really liked the idea of having wispy drooping petals and/or leaves like Wisteria or willow trees, after a few tests that didn't turn out as nicely as I wanted (as seen on the WIP Wednesday mentioned above) I decided maybe it would be best to go without this time around.

So the final concept I've ended up with for my trees here goes roughly as follows, although I'm no botanist or marine biologist so there's a good chance a lot of this doesn't check out scientifically:

The Nightlight tree, named for its bioluminescent fruits--called "moon fruits" for their whiteish glow, pale bluish color, and spherical shape--is a species of aquatic tree that is found growing anchored to rock formations and cave systems in the greatest depths of the ocean. As these trees exist in oceanic depths with minimal or no sunlight, they perform chemosynthesis rather than photosynthesis to make their own food until they reach maturity and can produce their own artificial light as a food supplement. Nightlight trees root systems can reinforce and stabilize the rock formations they anchor to in order to grow, which provides a more sound home and environment for the species of fish that will eat the "moon fruits," attracted by their bright glow, produced by the tree and aid in the tree's reproduction. Because of this, nightlight trees may grow in clustered groups or may grow so closely together that multiple trees twist and wind around each other, which can put strain on the trees' root systems and may cause development problems and may cause the younger of the trees to die. The bark of mature nightlight trees may also have a faint glow where the tree is thickest, as the bark is stretched more thinly around the nutrient carry "veins" found within the trunk of the tree, where the chemical process that causes the tree's fruit to glow begins. Nightlight trees attract and feed a variety of deep sea creatures and other bottom-dwelling vegetation, many of which feature bright flourescent colors or bioluminescent traits and may camoflodge with the moon fruits or the few brightly colored flower-like leaves that the moon fruits emerge from four times a year, peak season typically being in the spring. This provides these other species with a largely safe place to settle and reproduce while the tree is at its most forthgiving. Moon Fruits once detached from the tree will retain their glowing properties for approximately 7-10 days. Fruits that in that time find themselves on or around suitable growing conditions may then begin to take root and grow. Fruits that are not in suitable growing conditions within the time frame will then begin to decay and detoriate. Certain deviations or subspecies of nightlight trees may also be found in the depths of brackish or freshwater, but the most common sigular variety is the "White Light" variety found in oceanic saltwater.

Excuse me if that's a little all-over-the-place for a faux "knowledgable source about trees" article, but I think I managed to get the bulk of my ideas for how these trees work in there.

For a while, I also had the idea that if one of the trees ever did grow tall enough to reach the water with plenty of sunlight and/or poke out of the water that the exposed parts of the tree would die and/or become sicker with more sunlight exposure, so you'd have this really tall tree that's dead at the top but as you follow it down becomes progressively healthier until you reach the bottom and find this beautiful natural undersea garden with all these neon plants and animals it's supporting in its ecosystem. And while I do still like that idea, I don't think it's terribly realistic and I definitely couldn't fit all that would entail into this one artwork.

That said, I think you can probably see my reasoning for a lot of the artistic decisions I made here, so hopefully, I won't have to stop every five seconds to explain how the tree works while I go through what my artistic process was.

After some sketching to think through my ideas of the tree structure and possible fruit/foliage things and the practice/failed attempt pieces, I decided my best bet for the pseudo-vision I had in my head would be to make lines from the sketches I'd done as a base (as in my practice pieces where I attempted to free-hand everything things really got away from me pretty easily), and so I lifted the lines for the two trees, the caves, and some of the ground/sand from my sketches and transferred them to a piece of Canson XL watercolor paper, since I knew I wanted to work primarily with the Arteza watercolors and maybe (at the time but this ended up not being the case) the woodless watercolor pencils too.

And if I may, I'd like to take a moment here to say that while on some levels I do understand why some more versed in watercolor than I absolutely loathe the Canson XL watercolor paper, to me, it much like the premise of cheaper watercolors is not strictly terrible--it's a matter of what you're used to and what you learn to work with. If you can learn to work with what you've got, and that's what you get used to, then to a point it the quality almost doesn't matter. This paper does work differently from the more expensive/nicer watercolor papers I've tried, but it's so much more accessible that I have more of it, so I use it more, and by now I've learned a lot about how to work with it to get the results I want, so I'm less likely to encounter some of the problems other people seem to have with it. It all just depends on you, your taste, and how you work.

But enough of my paper mini-rant. Back to the artwork:

I knew from my practice pieces that part of the mistakes I kept making was not laying down layers further in the background first so that I wouldn't have to attempt to paint around/right up to them later, as well as layering up more would help me better achieve the darker, moodier undersea look I was aiming for. So after taking a picture of my lines and very quickly and sloppily doing a color mockup in one of the few drawing apps that still work with a Gen 4 iPad to figure out which paint colors to squirt onto a palette, I went in with an all-over layer of a darker blue for the background first, and I layered that up 2 or 3 more times to get it to a darker intensity.

It's still a little bit brighter than I was originally hoping for, but it still came out pretty nicely. Though I couldn't tell you how much of the ocean-ish texture is just textural properties of the particular paint color and how much of it was how I laid down the paint between all the strokes I did to even out the coverage and the additional layers.

After that was dry, I made a faux-pas (in that I would have to paint around them a little later) and moved on the stars of the show; the trees themselves.

The trees were probably the slowest and most methodical part of this piece. I very carefully went in and would do lines and then blend them out slightly when possible, trying to use the transparent nature of watercolors to my advantage. This was a slower process, especially as I would work my way up the trees and get to smaller branches (especially with the smaller tree) and had to switch to a smaller brush just to make sure I was staying within my lines. But I and my dark, moody purple did eventually get through it, and even with only the trees the background painted, I was really pleased with how they turned out.

Then I moved on to my little rock-cave things and the ground. The caves started out as a lighter ultramarine color, but it looked kinda weird so I did even up going back and adding a couple of additional layers and shading to try and add more depth, as well as I tried to stick with a dark blue only for the insides of the caves, but they ended up really seeming to need the addition of some black. The end result is a little too close in value between the trees, the caves, and the caves' insides, but there wasn't really a better way to remedy that beyond starting over, and after everything I'd been through to get to this point, I did not want to do that. So it stays as is.

The ground was actually relatively simple. Since I already had a blue background and I had decided a greenish color would be the best route to go, I just layered some yellow paint in the areas I wanted to look more like sand/ground and did the same kind of semi-blending as I did on the cave rocks and trees. And it worked just as well when I added the sand/ground moving towards the back that I hadn't pre-drawn in.

Now, I was trying to hold off doing the little moon fruits (which at this point were just bioluminescent orbs to me, I did all the naming after I finished the piece so I would know exactly what I was trying to name) until I had all the painting done, since the plan was to do them with the colored pencils, and I just kinda wanted to be able to say I was done and put all the painting stuff away before I moved on to that. That's how I usually work with my mixed media projects; I prefer to have a plan and get the majority of one medium or section done before moving on to something else. (Usually to have more desk space available but it also helps me keep things organized.)

And it was at this point that I realized my plans didn't look very under-water-ish. It kinda just looked like a moody dry-land landscape painting. Which is fine, but that's not what I wanted/was going for.

To remedy this, I started by adding some seaweed/kelp like plants to the ground. Which still looked largely just like funny grass or weeds.

It was at this point that I deviated from the actual artwork and moved back to my watercolor sketchbook to do some toying around. The main thing I did was practice trying to make coral or coral-like plants since I figured that might help with the whole ocean thing. And on the page where I ended up doing a lot of the practicing, I actually ended up taking a little extra time, later on, to make into kind of a bonus art piece, which I'll be posting by itself at some point in the future.

But I also practiced making bubbles and some other details we'll get to in a moment.

I tried doing the coral a few different ways but ultimately went with the way I see coral in my mind when I think of the word; this rounded cartoony kinda thing, even though that's not what real coral usually looks like. (I looked up pictures during the process out of curiosity) I don't know where this very specific imagery got implanted into my brain other than maybe Spongebob, but that still doesn't seem quite right, so I don't know.

And I have to say that the Neon Pink Arteza watercolor continues to be a favorite of mine, while we're here. It held up over the dark colors and compared to the gel pens infinitely better than I thought it would. Arteza, if you see this by chance, this is my plea--please make more neon watercolors if you can make them as good as this pink one!

*Ahem* Anyway...

After all that, I did step back from the watercolor and come in with the colored pencils. I didn't think I was almost done, but at the moment I didn't have much else in mind for the watercolors and figured it would be best to move to the pencils and then I could come back to the watercolors if I felt like I needed to.

I'm not sure if the Arteza colored pencils just don't like watercolor paper or something, but I had kind of a hard time applying the pencils and getting them to pop the way I wanted to, particularly in areas that had thinner paint coverage. This was the most notable in the bare ocean areas where I was trying to do the moon fruits, as the pencils worked a little better when I hit those darker patches of blue, and they liked working over the truck bark a lot better. To be fair, I know some of this is because most colored pencils have a hard time going over darker colors, as even my Prismacolor and Polychromos can have a hard time over my toned gray paper sometimes, but it still seemed like these were falling more flatly on that front than I had anticipated.

Either way, by this point it was late and I was exhausted, so I finished up what I wanted to do with the pencils--finally coloring the moon fruits, adding some additional texture to the sand, caves/rocks, coral, and trees--and decided to leave it until morning.

As I was cleaning up for the night, I was looking at that bonus art piece/practice page I talked about earlier, and I noticed a spot where the paint had done a kind of texture thing again (this time definitely more from how I applied it and less from the paint itself) and the shape, combined with me thinking of things I could do to continue to play up the "ocean" imagery and make my seascape look more lived in, made me think of sting or manta rays. More specifically that one would look really good in that spot, and about the time I completed that thought was when it dawned on me the key component I had been missing the whole time:

It's an ocean life scene. Where's the life part?? Do you know what lives in the ocean? FISH!

And I still couldn't tell why that just hadn't occurred to me until then.

So I went to bed knowing exactly what I was going to be looking up and practicing the next day to add to and hopefully complete my tree painting.

The next day, after many minutes spent prowling Pinterest for marine life silhouettes and having added a few rays to my practice piece, (and some nonspecific fish to the other couple of failed attempts since the practice-piece-turned-art was getting a bit crowded) I was off and added a manta ray, a small school of fish, and two other fishes just hanging out. Then I couldn't help myself and added a smaller ray in the leftover space that was just kind of begging for a little something more behind the other ray.

And I could have very well stopped there, but it was bothering me in the fresh daylight just how much the colored pencils had seemingly sunk back into the artwork. My bubbles I added the night before were so hard to notice! And the moon fruits...they just weren't popping at all the way I wanted them to.

I tried not to; I really did. I wanted to stick to just using the Arteza supplies that I had and maybe some white gel pen. But I had to do something to get the color to pop more, and the alternative was to pull out the white and neons from my Prismacolor pencils and between the two options, pulling out my Sakura Gelly Roll Moonlight pens, as I said earlier, felt less like I was deviating from the challenge. And for all I know, the Prismacolor pencils might not have popped as much as I wanted either, even if they popped more than the Arteza pencils. So gel pens it was!

I used my white Uni-ball Signo for the actual moon fruits themselves, and the gelly rolls for their little leaf-petals and some extra dots/texture on the coral. I also used the white gelly roll to add some additional "glow" to the tree bark and to revive the poor bubbles that had gotten so lost before. And then I went back later at different points to add the two moon fruits that fell, partly to fill in space and partly because it just made more sense to my brain to have at least some that weren't still on the trees.

Also, I'm not sure how well it reads, but I did go back and try to add more of a proper "glow" effect to the moon fruits with the white colored pencil, but I feel like I lost a lot of the minimal pigment I was getting by the time I used a blending stump to soften the edges.

It's funny to me; this was one of those pieces where I spent so much time with it and meticulously going over the details that at first I actually wasn't sure it was finished. It's one of those where I had to step back and let it settle in that I had seen my vision through to the end before I could properly "accept" it.

And you know, for as many challenges as I had with trying to invent my own tree species and the problem-solving I had to do throughout the process, I am really proud and happy with how the final piece turned out.

It's different; it's out of my comfort zone because I don't do landscape type things, and it challenged my creativity in a different way. And I feel like I was able to achieve what I set out to do with the piece.

And thanks to my hesitance to dive right into the final piece without testing, I also got a bonus art piece out of it, so yay two birds with one stone?

This may have started out as just another contest entry, but in the end, I'm really glad for the mini art journey this piece took me on, and even if I don't win anything in the giveaway (which realistically I probably won't), I'm happy just to have made the artwork. And that's kinda the most important thing, right?

Now, I have some commission work to do, but I also have a certain supply that's been sitting on my desk all week just begging to be used, and some other pieces in the works, so stayed tuned for that and that bonus art piece I keep talking about that came out of this piece.

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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings

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Where to find me & my artwork:

#artfortrees #arteza #trees #underwater #ocean #sea #marine life

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 6 years ago

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Apples & Cinnamon (3) - The Excuses | Carlton Drake x Reader

Words: 2,290

Warning: Carlton messing up again and reader forgiving him ‘cause she has the Eliza Schuyler level of kindness, some angst, mentions of anxiety (but there’s self care)

A/N: Trying to get back into writing this series again and hopefully it shows in the tags this time. I feel like the next chapter will be the last for the Venom prequels and I’m debating if I should go straight to post-Venom. I have a few ideas on bringing Carlton back for that one, drawing from some events in the Spiderman comics. Thank you guys for reading my fics and waiting patiently for the next one!

With the launch of the exploration space ship, Carlton tried to spend more time with you. He made an effort to learn new recipes to cook for you, he’d do the chores around the apartment, so you’d come home and relax to a clean living space, and he’d even drove you around town to help with errands and take you to work. To say you weren’t enjoying this would be a lie, but at the same time, it made you anxious.

One day, Anne invited you for lunch, wanting to catch up and discuss the wedding plans. The date is undecided, but it didn’t hurt to bounce ideas around. Anne and Eddie were a simple couple, so nothing extravagant. Anne joked about dressing casually for the wedding and that Eddie would gladly wear his biker jacket if he could.

Anne sipped her water and eyed you. “So, what about you?” she asked. You tilted your head, picking on the bread crusts of your sandwich with a fork. “What about me?” you countered. “I mean, you and Carlton have been together for a long time. No wedding bells on your end? Eddie mentioned that you’ve been arguing,” she said with concern. You shook his head. “What a typical reporter, warping the truth,” you said, “but, no. We weren’t really arguing… just that he’s been busy and all. He’s trying to make up for it, though.” As if on cue, your phone dinged, a message from Carlton popped up asking where you were. You reminded him that a friend had wanted to take you out for lunch. Within seconds, he asked which friend it was and if he knew them. You grimaced, telling him it was a girl from college that you haven’t seen in a while and wanted to catch up. It wasn’t a complete lie. You knew Eddie from college and you’ve met Anne through association. You didn’t want to be specific on who it was, not wanting to affect Anne’s work life, knowing the chances of her firm working with Life Foundation. “Something wrong?” Anne asked, her head tilting, letting her short blonde hair cascade over her shoulders. You shrugged it off. “It’s nothing. He just wants to know where I am.” Another message popped up asking where the small diner was. You gave him the name of the diner and told him that you were almost finished. He wanted to pick you up as soon as you were done. “You should talk to him if something’s bothering you,” Anne said, seeing your brows furrow as you texted your boyfriend. “It’s fine, Anne. Besides, I don’t want to bother him. He’s the CEO of Life Foundation. He’s got bigger things to worry about,” you said, almost trying to convince yourself. Anne reached over to grab your hand. “Well, if you want to talk, you know you can always call me, right?” “I know,” you said too quickly. Anne sighed. “And if even cares for you at all, sharing your thoughts and feelings shouldn’t bother him. If it does, Eddie and I will swoop down and save you.” You texted Carlton as you and Anne waited to pay for the meal. He immediately replied, saying he was on his way. After paying, you followed Anne out to the curb where she parked her black car. She offered to wait with you until Carlton arrived, but you dismissed her offer, insisting you’d be fine. Carlton always arrived on time. Until today, that is. You honestly didn’t know how long you’ve waited, but long enough for the chill of the incoming dawn to blow through the streets. You texted Carlton after the first ten, fifteen, half an hour, and even an hour of wait, only to be left as unread. Your heart began to race, an uneasy feeling vibrating through your body as your throat constricted and your eyes threatened to spill over. Maybe there was a last-minute emergency. Taking a few deep and slow breaths, you wrapped an arm around your stomach and waved a cab down. Luckily, one did stop for you, asking where you wanted to go as soon as you climbed in. You debated if you should go over to Life Foundation, but you were too drained, so you opted to going straight home. You tried to text Carlton, telling him that you already took a cab, but your vision blurred as soon as you started typing. You let out a frustrated huff, roughly wiping your damp cheeks, your eyes flickering over to the driver who had glanced at you for a second. At a stop light, he reached over to his glove compartment and produced a tissue box, handing it over to you. Letting out a meek “thank you”, you took it and pulled out two tissues to wipe your eyes and your running nose. He finally pulled up in front of your and Carlton’s shared apartment. You thanked him, giving him a generous tip before climbing out. Your crying episode had calmed down, being reduced to petty sniffling. You took a sharp intake of breath, pushing down your sadness and disappointment, trying not to get angry at the situation. Unlocking the front door, you were greeted by an empty apartment, as you expected. Maybe he was called in, you repeated to yourself.

You threw your bag onto the kitchen counter, toeing off your shoes and made a beeline to the bathroom where you ran a hot bath. You ignored the chaos in your mind as best as you could, running on autopilot. You tossed a bath bomb into the tub and laid out a fuzzy bathrobe and your favorite pajamas and underwear. Humming, you walked back to the kitchen, pulling out the small box of wine samplers that your coworker was giving out one day, selecting a white wine and a clean glass.

Then, you went back to the bedroom, digging for Carlton’s iPad and slipping it in an airtight ziploc bag and scrolling through netflix. When you found the TV show you wanted to binge watch, you peeled your clothes off as you made your way over to the bathroom, not minding the trail of clothes you left in your wake. You laid out the bamboo bathtub table that you made Carlton buy for you and set your items down before sinking into the warm eucalyptus and lavender scented water. Your phone buzzed from the bathroom counter, but you ignored it, focusing on the show as you sipped your white wine. Your stressful episode was long forgotten for the moment as you try to clear your mind of any intrusive thoughts while you enjoy yourself. Dora and Anne were right, you knew that, but giving him excuses was a bad habit that you’ve succumbed to. You were on the second season when you heard Carlton arriving, his keys jingling as you kicked his dress shoes off and place them on the metal shoe rack next to the door. You closed your eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the water to steel yourself as he walked through the bedroom looking for you. “(Y/n)?” he called out. You heard rustling of clothes in the bedroom before he opened the bathroom door wider. “(Y/n), I’m so sorry- “ You shushed him, not bothering to look up at him. He sighed, the sound of his bare feet padding over to you and landing on the furry rug next to the tub. You took another sip of your wine, swishing it around your mouth before swallowing. He grabbed the wine glass away from you, much to your dismay, and knelt next to you. “Work called me about some materials that they’ve scanned on the comet and they’re going to go ahead and retrieve them. I just got so excited that I went over to read over the reports and… isn’t that exciting?” Carlton said, leaning on the edge of the tub. “It sure is, Carlton,” you said flatly. You could see Carlton wincing when you said his full name. You paid no mind to it, lifting your chin up and continued, “But you couldn’t have just asked them to send the reports to you? If you’re going to insist on picking me up right away, I’d expect you to pick me up right away because you said you will. I was fine catching ride with my friend or taking a cab. I didn’t have to wait outside the diner and watch people pass by for almost two hours.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you held a finger up. Now that you had alcohol buzzing through you and making you calm, you could confront him without holding back. You didn’t want to cry anymore and you didn’t want to get heated up and angry before you say things you don’t mean. “I know how much your work means to you. We’re both busy and we knew what we were getting into when we started this relationship. I don’t mind that you were called in, because I sometimes get called into work as well, but you should have let me know instead of letting me wait there for so long. When something happens at work, I always let you know.” You paused to take another sip of wine.

“Lately, you haven’t properly communicated with me. I don’t know what’s going at Life, so the least you could do is tell me whether you’re not able to make it in time to pick me up, or that you’re coming home late, or you’re staying at the lab overnight. It’s tiring having to go after you to hear you so nonchalant about this situation while I’m by myself worrying about everything and everyone. I’m just… I am really tired, Carlton.” “What are you saying, sweetie?” he asked shakily. He grabbed your hand and peppered kisses all around it as he tried to make you look at him. “I’m trying here. Everything’s going according to plan and I can’t stop now. I’m making a better future for the world, for us. I want you to be there, by my side, when it happens.” You tried to pull your hand away, but he refused to budge, holding it close to his chest. “I admit that I was in the wrong,” he said, “I should be telling you things more when all you do is support and understand me and that’s more than I could ask for from anyone. I promise, this will be the last time, okay? You wanted to go to Singapore, right? We could do that. The space crew isn’t going be back for a while and you have a lot of vacation days saved up. We can go as soon as you’re ready. I’ll plan out everything from the reservations, all those food places, everything.” You considered his apology and his offer, finally turning your head and looked at his pleading eyes. You sighed, placing the iPad down on the table and leaned back. He silently waited as you drummed your fingers on the hard surface, then turned back to him. “You can’t keep doing this, Carlton,” you said firmly, “You can’t keep making promises then cover it up with good deeds and extravagant gifts every time you break them.” “Then what do you want me to do?” he snapped, making you pull your hand away. He dropped his head and exhaled. “I’m really trying, (y/n/n)! I thought you would have understood… you do, but… you just… I just…” You studied his face for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed his jaw clenching as his hand ran through his hair. Slowly, you lifted your hand to his cheek and made him look you in the eye. He tilted his head, leaning into your touch. “I just want you to be here. Like here, here. With me,” you said softly. He leaned forward, your foreheads touching. “Believe me, (Y/n/n), when I say that all I want is to share my life with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

The tension fell away as his words sunk in. He said it with so much certainty and you really wanted to believe him. The two of you hadn’t fought in a long time. You were glad that you were able to finally speak your mind and you hoped that the worst was over now that the both of you agreed on how to communicate. This was Carlton, the man that you bumped into at NYU and asked you out on the same day. The Carlton everyone sees seemed so put together, but he actually asks you for help to tie his tie. You hoped that you would help him separate your Carlton with Life’s Carlton, to leave work behind when he’s home with you.

“You’re making it really hard to stay mad at you,” you mumbled, bumping your nose with his.

“Good. And I will do anything to make it up to you.”

You hummed, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

You pushed the bamboo table away and stood up from the tub, using Carlton to balance as you climbed out. His eyes roamed your figure as you ringed your hair into the tub. You raised an eyebrow, pointing to the towel. He quickly fetched it and you stuck your arms out, allowing him to wrap it around you.

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” you said, tucking in the towel as his ears perked up, “You’re going to dry my hair while I finish up that rose wine and I’m going to make you watch any rom-com I want, got it?”

“Got it!”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re lucky that I love you.”

“I know.”

A/N: Kind of realize that I’m making Carlton a darker version of Alexander Hamilton... the musical one. Let me know what you guys think. I also realize a lot of my reader inserts deal with mental health and I’ve done it unintentionally, but I hope I’ve portrayed it well. I’ve been dealing with GAD and depression myself, so some of it is from personal experience.

#carlton drake x reader #Carlton Drake imagine #apples and cinnamon #venom 2018 #Riz Ahmed #marvel #I've rushed posting this

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tessmontyart · 6 years ago

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2018 Year In Review

Another year, another review 💕(I actually typed most of this up before 2019 and then got distracted, whoops)

To put things short, 2018 has been AWESOME :D Exhausting and fast, but awesome.

I started it off pretty uncertain how things were going to go, dreading it would be a repeat of 2017′s boring TAFE courses and endless job rejections. But the miracle happened - a 2D animation studio opened up near me, I applied, did an animation test and got the job!

The job was a contract from 1st of April - 21st of December, so I spent the majority of my year going to work to animate characters for a really crazy but hilarious new kids show called Spongo Fuzz and Jalapena, due to air mid 2019 :)

It was honestly the most fun job I have ever had and I can’t wait for the next project! 🎉 I have never been this exhausted in my life, though. 😅I had already booked a whole bunch of conventions before I got the job, and didn’t want to cancel them so I was working nonstop - Animation during the day and intensive convention prep every night.

I also had the bright idea of creating a full colour 26 page comic -with a tight deadline - so I was madly working to the point I didn’t even have time for dinner half the time :’) I am sort of happy with the comic, but also kind of wish I never had the idea in the first place. 😅

I tabled at a ton of conventions; Melbourne Supanova, Central Coast ComiCon, Other Worlds Zine Fair, Sydney Supanova, SMASH and Canberra Gamma Con. If next year doesn’t go so well on the job side of things I’m hoping to add a few more conventions to that list - Brisbane Supanova, Oz Comic Con and Animaga to name a few. I’ve already booked Sydney Madman Anime Festival!

2018 was the year my partner and I celebrated our 4th year together, and he never fails to amaze me with his continuous love and support. I was too sick to attend the first day of SMASH, so he set up and ran the whole stall for me while I stayed at home. Same with Sydney Supanova, I was too bogged down in animation work and couldn’t afford to take the Friday off, so he set up and ran the stall for me on Friday, then we ran the stall together on the weekend. He also tended to my every need when I broke my toe, cooked all my meals when I was busy with work and even packaged + posted all my Etsy orders every day because I was always working during post office hours. He listened to all the problems I was having with my stall setup and helped make shelves and decorations to make it look and function better. I was getting stressed because my desk space was too small, BAM he bought me a brand new desk with plenty of storage. I was getting stressed that I had so much on my convention to-do-list and couldn’t keep track of all my project ideas, BAM, he sets up a whiteboard and helps me brainstorm everything so I can keep track of all my thoughts and ideas and what to prioritise for future conventions. I didn’t even ask him to do any of this, he just loves to help me and make me happy and I am forever blissed and happy to be able to spend my life with such a wonderful human!

(Home made High Tea I made for him on Valentines Day)

Arsty Highlilghts / accomplishments:

🌸I designed 9 cute Houseki no Kuni acrylic charms which have been doing really well at conventions!

🌸I also drew a cute series of ‘Sleepy Gem’ Houseki no Kuni / Steven Universe holographic prints, which I’m quite proud of 😊

🌸I created my 2nd enamel pin design, which already needed 2 reorders because they were so popular! ;w; I never knew I could make something that so many people love *sob* I’ve already planned to make these into a series! (already designed some deer ones, and thinking of doing foxes next ^_^ )

🌸I also tried getting gold foil prints done for the first time, which was pretty cool! I got the american sizes mixed up though so I might try for the bigger size next time :) (grainy photo cause its a screenshot from a video)

🌸I’ve been taking steps to make my stall look more ‘professional’, and got a really neat wooden sign made for me by my friend as_sweet_as_jasmine!

🌸I’ve started revamping my favourite series of posters - the Eevee Gijinka girls :) I plan to have them all done and ready for 2019s conventions!

🌸This was the year I got an iPad, so I could do digital art on-the-go. Honestly its helped me so much, and I can’t wait to be able to use it more (sorta didn’t get a chance to touch it while i was working!)

🌸I got Copic Markers for my birthday so I had a whole new medium to play with! These mixed with using a brush pen for inking really make my inktobers pop and I’m eager to draw more with them :)

🌸Speaking of Inktober, it was a huge accomplishment for me to put effort into a decent artwork every day this year! Usually theres a few dud ones when I lacked inspiration, but I somehow managed to make it work ;w; So when it came time to printing the books, theres 31 illustrations rather than 25 like the others :) Also the whole rainbow theme idea came from how cool I think it would look flipping through a rainbow book - so I managed to make that happen and couldn’t be happier!

🌸I passed 1000 sales on Etsy!! 😱As well as 1000 followers on instagram! Crazy right??

General 2018 highlights

🌸2018 was the year one of my best friends got married! I made cute little clay wedding cake toppers for her :)

🌸The year Owl City’s 7th album Cinematic came out!! All the tracks are so GOOD and exactly the sound all us hootowls were longing for. Also Be Brave is a tearjerker, in a good way. What an amazing human Abbey is to Adam <3

🌸The year Spyro Reignited Trilogy came out!! It’s absolutely amazing, and I love every second of it. Every time I play it I just can’t help but stand there looking around at every detail because everything is just so gorgeous *_* And the nostalgia is so real.

🌸Not exactly a highlight but the year Tumblr went NSFW free, and lost hundreds of thousands of users 😂I’m still here though. Got a dumb tradition to keep up ya know.

🌸The year my work had a hilarious Christmas party where we had to dress up as a character from Spongo Fuzz and Jalapena. It was the first time I actually put effort into a cosplay by myself 😂(possibly the last) (wont put a photo up for embarrassing reasons)

🌸the year I broke my toe for the first time xD;; definitely not a highlight but a first! I couldn’t walk for weeks! it sucked!!! T__T

🌸The year my friend successfully funded his kickstarter for his own cartoon ‘Nurry Brothers Adventure World’ :D So proud of him. I’m gonna help him animate!

🌸The year Lano and Woodley reunited with their amazing show ‘Fly’!! I loved it so much I saw it twice :D

🌸The year I tried doing Halloween for the first time - I bought a bunch of lollies and chocolates and decorations on my letterbox/door to let people know I was participating. I got 2 different groups of people at the door, 5 people all up 😂More than I expected tbh!

🌸I tried Ruby chocolate for the first time! It was ok .. just kinda tasted like berry yoghurt flavoured white chocolate though ;w;

SO! What’s coming for 2019?

I’m not really sure at the moment, but I have high hopes for Cheeky Little Studios (the animation company I worked for) - so I guess I’ll just have to wait and see if any of their next projects get concrete start dates :) I’m not as terrified of the year as I usually am when its just one big question mark. I know I can make decent money through conventions and commissions in the meant time so I’ll just continue doing what I love!

LAST YEAR I SAID:

“I am crossing my fingers for an animation job I applied for a while ago” - I GOT IT! :D

“I plan to do even more conventions. Hopefully I can get into Oz Comic Con!" - didn’t end up applying because I was busy with the job, but keen to try for 2019 :)

"I’m keen to apply for like Animaga in Melbourne, as well as Madman Anime Fest in Brisbane and Melbourne.” - didn’t end up doing so for the same reason above, but that might change this year :)

“I also want to make a lot more non-fandom things for market stalls, as well as a comic and zines!” - I made the comic, as well as 3 inktober zines and a cute ‘if I fits I sits’ cat zine! As well as a bunch of cute original enamel pin ideas and my whole inktober was original art :D

“Hopefully I’ll hit 1k followers on fb/ig? :D that will make me feel important lol” - I hit 1k on instagram!! I felt very important xD

“I’m also hoping to go on a holiday this year." - I didn’t, for job reasons ... buuut I’m booked in for a cruise in Italy / Greece this September that I’m extremely excited for!

“PLEASE BE KIND 2018, I’M BEGGING YOU 😱” - You were very very kind to me, 2018. 2019, please follow suit!

(man this is the 7th year of review I’ve done. Can’t believe I’ve been on tumblr this long 😅)

[2017] [2016] [2015] [2014] [2013] [2012]

#2018 #2018 year review #year review #year in review #personal crap #i honestly dont expect anyone to read these #i just do them for myself lol

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katurrade · 6 years ago

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Come Back to Me - The Plan (6/?)

The Plan is part 6 of “Come Back to Me” an AU series. This takes place right at the end of Book 3 Chapter 10, following the bombing of the palace. In this story Chapters 11+ never happen. This is going to be a slightly angsty, slightly fluffy story and is following the story line that is Riley and Liam are engaged and are supposed to be getting married. This will start mainly from Riley’s POV but i will say when it is from someone else’s. This was written on my iphone and fyi each chapter will be pretty long! Tagged long post! Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, PB does. I’m just borrowing them.

Pairing: Liam x MC

Rating: PG. Just to be safe!

Summary: The friends hold a group meeting to determine a plan of action. Riley visits Liam in the hospital but finds him in the middle of a nightmare. Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 3,220 ish.

Tagged List: @blackcatkita @captain-kingliamsqueen @mrsdrakewalkerblog @umccall71 @hopefulmoonobject @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @melodiouskeys @theroyalweisme @alicars

Side Notes: If you would like to be added to the tagged list for this, I can make that happen ;)

Rileys POV - Day 4 (Morning)

Riley woke up to the sound of her alarm going off, instantly realizing she was in Liams bedroom at the palace. She groaned and reached out to shut it off. Not yet....I only just passed out! How is it morning already!?! She pulled his pillow over her face wishing she could just stay there. Taking a deep breath she caught his scent that lingered on it from the last time he had been in his bed....they had been in it. She sighed.

She had only arrived back from the hospital a few hours before but decided to attempt to get a little more sleep before the ‘group meeting’. When she couldn’t get comfy in her own bed she had gone to Liams hoping that would help. It had. But now all she wanted to do was stay there and sleep more. Couldn’t they have planned the meeting for the afternoon?!....Why did it have to be an early morning meeting!.....Damn these early morning people!

She thought about ditching it. Surely they’d understand and fill her in on the important details later! She grabbed her phone to text Drake, when the door to Liams room flung open...

“GOOD MORNING LITTLE BLOSSOM!!” Maxwell screamed as he entered the room with his arms stretched out, followed closely by their entire group of friends. She was so startled that she went to jump out of bed, but her feet were caught in the blankets and she fell flat on her face. Ending up in a crumpled pile on the floor.

“Oh my! Riley!” Hana exclaimed “Are you alright?!?” She said as she ran over to check on her.

“Way to go, Maxwell. We told you not to yell!” Drake glared at him as he said it.

“I’m sorry! ....I just got so excited! I haven’t seen Riley in a whole day!” Maxwell said sadly before his eyes widened “That’s 24 hours, Drake. Twenty. Four. Hours. ” he exclaimed as he lifted his hands, holding up 2 fingers on his right hand and 4 on his left, before forcefully thrusting them towards Drakes face to punctuate his words. Drake narrowed his eyes at him in responce “You’d better get your hands out of my face, Maxwell, or so help me god..” Maxwell gasped and instantly dropped his hands before mumbling something inaudible as he took a step back. Rileys loud, heavy sigh pulled everyones attention back to her.

“It’s okay, Maxwell. I should be used to this by now...” She groaned from inside her cocoon of bedding on the floor. With Hanas help she untangled herself from the mess of sheets and blankets, and stood up to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with her hands on her knees as she willed her heart rate to go back to normal. “How did you guys even find me?” She grumbled out.

“It really wasn’t that hard, when we found your bed empty, this was the next place on the list!” Maxwell said matter-of-factly.

“Riiiiight. Makes sense....” she said as she raked a hand down her face. It did make sense. I should have just stolen his bedding and taken it to a spare room. They wouldn’t have found me for hours! Next time! I must remember that for next time!

Leo cleared his throat “Well, since we are all here, let’s get started, shall we...?”

Everyone nodded.

“I’ll start by saying thank you to everyone for being here toda-“

“Leo, this isn’t a courtly function, you don’t need to thank us...” Drake scoffed, cutting Leo off.

“Speak for yourself, Walker” Olivia glared at him as she crossed her arms “Some of us actually have busy schedules, and just finding the time to be here was difficult, to say the least.....but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” She said with a wicked smirk.

Drake glared back at Olivia “Ha ha” he said sarcastically “Why, Olivia? Because I’m a commoner? You nobles are all the same” he rolled his eyes “....and busy schedule my as-“

“Guys, guys! Come on! Lets just get on with it already” Riley said frustratedly. She glared at them both before turning to Leo, nodding for him to continue.

“As I was saying, Thank you all for being here. We are here to make sure everyone is on the same page when it comes to Liam..”

The group talked......well argued for the next 2 hours before finally agreeing on a plan. They wanted to make sure he was given equal parts good and bad memories. It would be done in steps, one step per day, with an extra day in between the harder topics to give him a chance to come to terms with all the information. They had wanted to draw it out over a longer period of time, but Riley reminded them that he would be out of the hospital soon and expected to make a statement. Meaning, he would need to know everything by that point in order to not draw unwanted attention from the press.

First. Riley would tell Liam all about the social season, his Father stepping down due to illness and that he was now the King.

Second. Riley, Olivia, Maxwell, Hana and Drake would tell him about the scandal, the engagement tour, the investigation and the outcome.

Third. Riley would tell him all about their moments during the engagement tour with Madeleine, ending with the night they got engaged.

Fourth. Riley, Leo and Drake would tell him about the attacks and the investigation.

Fifth. Riley would tell him about their moments from the Unity Tour and the plans for their wedding.

Then finally, Sixth. Leo would tell Liam about the final attack and Constantine’s death.

“It’s fool proof!” Maxwell exclaimed

“With you helping ....let’s hope it is” Olivia chuckled while rolling her eyes.

“Hey!” Maxwell whined through a pouted lip.

“Oh, Maxwell. Don’t listen to her” Hana said as she rubbed his back “No one will ruin the plan, don’t worry!”

Riley stood up from the bed “Okay, I’m going to go to the hospital now, but while I have you all here, as you know we are planning to keep Liams amnesia quiet. To prevent it from being leaked to the press, we have set up a list of who is allowed in his room. You will all be on it along with the few doctors and specialists that need to be apart of his recovery. I just wanted to give you all a heads up before the Press Release”

Everyone nodded in acceptance.

“What happens in Liams rooms, stays in Liams rooms! You have our word!” Maxwell said with a chuckle as he raised his left hand up in a mock oath.

And with that everyone went their separate ways. Riley ran to her room to change before heading off to the hospital.

————————————

Liams POV - Day 4 (Dawn)

He grabbed the IPad off the table and opened up Safari. He thought back to Lady Hana’s words earlier that day ‘Riley Laurence’ she had said. He typed her name in then hit search, the page instantly filled with links.

He read down them until one caught his eye ‘Flirtatious Photos or Midnight Mix-up?’. He clicked the link finding a video of Tariq embedded in the article. Tariq?! ...What does he have to do with Lady Riley?!

He watched the video from start to finish. Which only told him that this all had something to do with some photos....A misunderstanding to do with rooms....A breach of privacy for which Lady Riley held no responsibility.....And that the Court had clearly treated her unkindly during the whole thing.

But the court treating her unkindly wasn’t news to Liam, he had lived at court his whole life. He knew how quickly they attacked at any indiscretion, at any sliver of misconduct.

Now he needed to know more about this ‘Mix-up’. The word made him laugh. That was clearly the presses way of downplaying what they had done to her. Trying to save face by using a small, unthreatening word like ‘Mix-up’, as if they had accidentally used salt instead of sugar in their morning coffee.

Just before he backed out of the page, a sentence caught his eye ‘Neither King Liam nor his fiancée, Duchess Madeleine have made an official statement yet, stay tuned for more as this unfolds’

Wait....WHAT? K-King Liam?!? ....His fiancee....Madeleine? But...but... how?! I-I-I’m engaged to....Riley? ..Aren’t I?!

.....Dr. Young had originally used ‘Your Majesty’...and the face he made when I corrected him...it all makes sense now. But what about my father? Did he step down?! He hasn’t come to visit me once since I woke up....he wouldn’t have stepped down without a reason...either he was ill...or, or worse....?

This was all to much. His head was spinning, he felt like he was going to throw up due to the headache that had now set up shop in his skull. He had so many questions. So many concerns. Get it together, Liam. You’re a Prin—King?... he didn’t know but he knew he had to focus his energy on one topic at a time.

He willed himself to focus, he had set out originally to figure out what happened to Riley before New York. He would do that first, then move on to the topic of him being the King and why the hell Madeleine was his fiancee. Leaving the questions about his Father to when Leo visited next. Leo hadn’t said anything about their Father and he wanted to believe he would have if something bad had happened to him.

He shook his head. This is clearly nothing more then my imagination, Father obviously stepped down because he wanted to....and he clearly just hasn’t visited because he was thrusted back into duty given that the ......possible, current King was sitting in this damn hospital bed. Yes, that makes more sense. Sort of ..

He had to think logically, he forced himself to. He took a few deep calming breaths then backed out of the page and continued down till he saw the link he was looking for “Prince Humiliated by Unfaithful Suitor!” His heart was beating rapidly as he starred at the title for a moment before finally clicking the link.

When he first saw the photos of Tariq in Rileys room, a pang of jealousy overtook him. But as he began to read down the article about how she had ‘humiliated him’ that jealousy turned to anger.

After watching the video he knew nothing in this article was true, he should have stopped there, he should have put the IPad down, but he couldn’t. He kept reading the article and the comments at the bottom from his people.

They called her unspeakable names. She clearly went through so much ...for him. She had her privacy violated, photos of her in her underwear plastered the web. Her image ruined, her name tarnished. Her morals called into question because she was an ‘American’. It enraged him, all this because she came here to take a shot at being with him.

He slammed the IPad down on the table.

He didn’t want to look up anything else, the thought of what she had gone through, crushed him. He wished he could remember. All he wanted was to remember!

He laid there in frustration for a while before the exhaustion finally took over and he passed out.

———————————

Rileys POV - Day 4 (Mid-Day)

She arrived at the hospital shortly before lunch time. She had stopped at the bakery to pick up some cronuts on her way over. She wanted to use them as an icebreaker into the conversation about their ‘moments’ together.

As she walked up to Liams room she saw Bastien standing guard. “Oh! Bastien, Welcome back! Did Mara give you a copy of the list?” She said. He bowed to her “Thank you, Your Grace. It is great to be back. Yes, she filled me in and gave me the list” he said. “Perfect! If you happen to see Mara can you tell her I am here, please?” She said. He nodded “Of course, Your Grace”.

Mara had been at the hospital all morning informing all the guards of the strict new policies. Riley had been guarded by Mara’s right hand man, Thomas, all morning. He was basically a male version of Mara. Diligent, very highly trained, loyal and he had just a hint of humour, enough to make her feel comfortable in his presence. Like she could just be herself with him, she trusted him entirely.

After finding out everything was in order and Bastien was healthy and up to date on the plan, she turned her attention to Liams door. Taking a deep breath she knocked lightly, but when she didn’t get a response she opened the door quietly and peeked in.

Liam was asleep, she tiptoed in and shut the door quietly, as to not disturb him. She gingerly walked towards his bed placing the box of cronuts down on the table next to it. Wanting to take a moment just to stare at him, pretend the last few days hadn’t happened. That he was just sleeping and would wake up with a “Good Morning, my love.” But she knew he wouldn’t.

Upon approaching him she noticed a frown on his face, he was mumbling in his sleep and she figured he was having a bad dream. She fought with the idea to gently wake him up, but was worried how he would handle that.

Before she could think anymore about it, her body made the choice for her. Her hand reached out and cupped his jaw. Her thumb lightly caressing his cheek. His heart was racing, his breathing was quick. Too quick. Something was really upsetting him.

“Shhh, Liam. It’s okay” she softly said. Trying to gently ease him awake. “You’re safe. It’s okay..”

His eyes shot open and the look on his face was pure panic. He clenched his jaw and she quickly removed her hand “I’m so sorry......I didn’t mean to freak you out! I shouldn’t have....” She trailed off as she took a step back.

“Riley ...” he whispered through laboured breaths as his eyes settled on her.

———————————

Liams POV - Day 4 (Mid-Day)

He found himself once again in a ballroom, but this time there were no assassins. No guns. No fighting for his life.

He was standing next to his father and Regina in front of the whole court. It was his Coronation Ball, he was about to declare who his future Queen would be. He knew exactly who he was going to choose. She was his only choice. There was no other. There never would be.

When in the corner of his eye he sees a Royal Advisor approach Constantine and Regina to whisper something to them. “If you’ll excuse us one moment” Regina says before following the Advisor and Constatine to the back of the raised dais they were standing on.

He turns around to see what is going on when his Father waves him over. The Advisor informs them of an article that has just been released to the press, with photos showing Lady Riley in an intimate moment with Lord Tariq.

Lady Riley and Tariq?! No. That can’t be! At first Liam was caught off guard, he was outraged, jealousy coursed through him at the thought. But that went away quickly as he remembered his talk with Drake about the missing lock on Rileys door. And of the note she showed him earlier, the threat.

They turn back around to the sound of the crowds phones going off, one by one. The gasps and whispers start right after. He pulls his phone out to look, and sees a headline ‘Prince Humiliated by Unfaithful Suitor!’ He doesn’t even bother to open it. He knows now without a doubt that she has been set up.

“Where is Lady Riley?” He yells. He needs to speak to her. To find her. He starts searching the crowd for any sign of her.

Then he notices the commotion, three guards dragging her and the Beaumont brothers towards the doors, while a few other guards stop Drake and Hana from following. He can tell Drake is pissed, knowing the same information Liam does. “Riley!” He screams, shock evident in his voice.

He sees her yell something but can’t make out what she says over all the chaos and noise in the ballroom. He is panicking now. He needs to get to her, but before he can, Regina speaks “Given the circumstances, I’m sure Lady Riley has withdrawn from consideration” No! This is all a misunderstanding! She is NOT withdrawn from consideration! She is the ONLY one I’d ever pick! The only one I’d ever marry! He turns to Regina to say “But... I need to speak to her!” To which Regina quickly pulls him aside.

“You can’t speak to her now, Liam, you know that!” Regina whispers in a stern tone.

“But Regina, this is all a misunderstanding! She was set up! I need to speak to Lady Riley, now!” He commands.

“Liam, whether she was set up or not, there is nothing we can do at the moment. However, if she was set up, someone wanted her gone. She isn’t safe here, and you speaking to her could only put her further into harms way. You must get ahold of your emotions, not only for your sake but for hers as well.”

Liam says nothing as they both turn back to the crowd. He knows Regina is right. Lady Riley could be in FAR worse trouble if he were to chase after her.....to choose her. Right then he knows what he has to do. He had to protect her at all costs.

He tries to get his emotions in check. To steel himself. After a few calming breaths he nods to his Father to continue. “And now, Prince Liam must make his choice”

The words gut him. This isn’t ‘his choice’. She is ‘his choice’. No, this is very much someone else’s choice. Someone else has made this decision for him. He can feel the rage coming back, he can’t keep all his emotions together. His face tells one story but his clenched fists tell another as he says the words he never wanted to say “I choose... Lady Madeleine”

As Madeleine is walking up to the stage something touches his face. A hand? As a thumb caresses over his cheek he can feel himself being pulled from the ballroom.

He hears a calming voice “Shhh, Liam. It’s okay”. That’s Rileys voice. “You’re safe. It’s okay..” He quickly opens his eyes, he is breathing hard and fast. His heart is pounding in his chest. It was just a nightmare. Another nightmare....or was it?! Was this a memory?! Is that what really happened? It felt so real. Like I was actually there! He clenched his jaw. But his panicked thoughts were instantly cut off by her quickly removing her hand from his face.

“I’m so sorry......I didn’t mean to freak you out! I shouldn’t have....” She trailed off as she took a step back. He realized she thought she was the reason he was panicking. In a round about way she was, but it had nothing to do with her waking him up. Actually, he was thankful she woke him up when she did. He didn’t want to be in that nightmare any longer.

He had to make sure she knew it was okay. He had to find out if it was in fact a memory.... though he hoped it wasn’t. “Riley ...” he whispered through laboured breaths as his eyes settled on her. Trying to catch his breath “It’s okay, you didn’t freak me out...” he assured her “..but I need you to tell me what happened at my Coronation Ball...”

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

Chapter 7 - HERE.

#choices #choices fanfiction #choices trr #fanfic #fanfiction #fluffy #king liam #liam x mc #long post #the royal romance #angst #angsty

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nulisdisini · 4 years ago

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Delia once said "so when will you post all your artwork?" And I was like "No!!! Never in a million years! These books are buch of crap, everybody will say that I'm a terrible artist" "But you can't just hide all of your art in your book and then throw it into the trashcan, thats not fair"

Vica once said "I never thought you are an artsy type of person, i never thought you can paint. Why you keep all of your painting in your room and never show them? C'mon you have to show'em!"

(((If only I got the nerve lol)))

I throw a lot of my doodle art books and painting. Especially when I go back to my hometown. I keep all that "trash" in my room for a years. The one in the picture is one of my fave books. Because it is thick enough to paint, and it is a cold pressed paper so it gives a lil texture to its surface. When I have to go back home, i have to throw it away, except my first ever painting. When I try to throw it I don't know... it's like there's something that I can't let go, I talk to my friend and I gave it to her, hope she still save it. Even though it's bad. I want to throw it away at that moment, but I don't know, I feel like there's a sentimental value of its canvas. Nothing special in it. But I don't know... it's so hard so throw it. It's not like Van Gogh's of course.

It just... I'm too scared people will judge me by the way they see all my stupid nonsense artwork. So if someday I got the nerve to show'em all, maybe Delia will be the first one to see them, cause she is like my art teacher (?). She reminds me that theres nothing bad about art. Art is an art. Thank you delia. And thank you for always asking me about my artwork progress. Sometimes I forgot to fill the pages.

But now I ran out of pages, i hope someday I can buy another sketchbook and buy another paint and art supplies. And also my tablet is broken... i can't draw on it anymore. All the data is gone including my art not so artwork project. It is so sad. Hope someday God will send me the newest Ipad so I can draw without running out of pages.

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gumroad · 5 years ago

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Meet a Creator: 6 Rapid-Fire Questions with Julia Evans

Julia Evans makes zines. But not just any zines -- she makes zines that explain complicated computer programming concepts in simple terms. In 2015, after watching The Punk Singer, a documentary about punk and riot grrrl zine culture, she realized that zines could be a fun way to explain programming concepts:

“I was really excited about a program called strace,” Julia says. “So I wrote the zine with a Sharpie, printed out 200 copies, and gave it out at a conference talk I was giving. Everybody really loved the zine, so I kept going.”

We asked Julia five questions about being a creator. Here’s what she had to say:

Gumroad: Why do you make zines?

Julia: There are a lot of things I’ve learned in my career (strace! How Linux works! Computer networking!) that I feel are both REALLY IMPORTANT, and I think took me WAY TOO LONG TO LEARN. I didn’t learn what a system call was until I’d been programming for 10 years! I didn’t know how DNS worked for probably 12 years! It took me SO LONG to figure out how I was supposed to work with my manager. What’s up with that?! Why did nobody tell me?

And it makes me kinda mad every time I meet an engineer who’s missing some important basic information that would really help them because they’ve never seen a good explanation of it. A lot of these important things are also honestly not that complicated -- once you know them, you can explain them to someone else really quickly. For example, I showed someone how HTTP works in a café the other day and explaining the basic idea took, like, 60 seconds!

So, my goal with my zines is to explain things that have a reputation for being “hard” (but are actually easy!) in a simple way. I really believe that most computer things aren’t really that hard, they just need to be explained well.

G: What is the most rewarding part of doing education work? The most challenging part?

J: I love hearing aha moments from my readers, like “Wow, I’ve been working in this field for 20 years, and I never knew bash could do that!” or “Oh, THAT’s how content delivery networks work! That’s so simple!”. To me, teaching is sort of like a puzzle -- I really like condensing a complicated tool or idea down to the very few basic points you need to know to get a lot of different kinds of tasks done.

Finding the right thing to write about is always hard -- I’m always on the look out for things that people on Twitter are saying they find hard or confusing.

G: How do you get yourself out of a creative rut/writer's block/feeling unmotivated?

J: The way I wrote Bite Size Linux was I decided I was going to write a comic and post it on Twitter every day in April, no matter what. I didn’t quite manage “every day”, but I wrote 20 comics in 30 days and got the zine published by the end of the month. Making rules like “I need to publish something every day” really helps me.

I’m doing the same thing again right now with a zine about the HTTP protocol -- I get up every morning, write a page about how HTTP works, and post it on Twitter.

G: Why Gumroad?

J: I really appreciate how fast publishing a zine on Gumroad is. The last time I published a zine on gumroad, I uploaded the PDF, uploaded the cover, that took maybe 10 minutes. 15 minutes later, somebody had already bought it, printed it out, and tweeted a picture to me of the printed-out zine on their desk.

You can’t get from “I hit publish on the Internet” to “Someone across the country has a print copy on their desk” in 15 minutes with traditional publishing!

G: What have you learned about running a business?

J: Originally, I didn’t sell my zines -- I gave them away for free (and the first 5 zines I wrote are still available for free at https://wizardzines.com!). For a long time, I was really scared of selling my work for some reason -- I was really used to writing my blog for free, and the idea of charging money for something I’d written felt really weird to me.

It turns out that people are really happy to pay to support great work, and literally nothing that I was afraid of happening has happened. Instead, 2 really nice things have happened: first, I take the work more seriously (I spend more time on it and work harder on the polish), and I’ve also noticed that my readers take the work more seriously (because they paid for it, they’re more likely to actually print out the zines and read them and learn from them, which is what I want!).

At this point I make enough to live on from selling zines which I think is really incredible -- for a long time I thought education work in tech wasn’t valued and that it wasn’t possible to make money by teaching people, but I was wrong!

G: Do you have any good tips to share for staying motivated, meeting goals, or boosting sales?

J: I’m a huge fan of doing things one baby step at a time. I’ve been working on this project a little at a time for almost 5 years now, while working full-time as a programmer and also spending a lot of time writing a blog. Here are a few of the things I’ve learned:

Start at the intersection of what’s needed and what’s fun. I wrote a zine, printed it out, and gave it away at a conference. People liked it, and I decided that it was fun. This gave me the motivation to write another one.

Be willing to put in the time and work. From 2016-2018, I published six more zines. I also ran a tiny Indiegogo campaign to ship 100 zines to people. I handwrote all the addresses and licked all the envelopes myself.

Put in the details that make you stand out and look professional. For the crowdfunding campaign, I got a custom “strace” stamp printed to stamp all the envelopes with. I also started hiring illustrators to illustrate the covers (since I can’t actually draw to save my life!). I registered a custom domain (wizardzines.com) and started a mailing list called “Saturday Comics”.

Know your value. I started giving away zines in my talks at every conference I spoke at. But instead of paying to print them myself, which was getting expensive, I asked the conferences to pay for printing instead. Then, in April 2018, I finally decided to start selling my zines instead of just giving them away.

Use profits to reinvest in your business. I bought an iPad with the profits from the zine. This was actually a big deal for me because the iPad is a WAY BETTER drawing tool than what I was using before and helped me work a lot faster. 🔹

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aurora-boring-alis · 8 years ago

Text

wip lmao

Got tagged by @dxrkblaze to share some wip writing. Tbh I haven’t been doing much lately so ive only got scraps n shreds that have been chilling on my ipad for the last bit

I also usually save proper writing for my side blog but eh i can bend the rules once or twice

Oh ye its oc shit btw sorry

Its roughly 2 AM and I am awake, entangled in sweat soaked fleece in the backseat of my car. My gaze, clouded and blurry from interrupted sleep and absence of my glasses. The seats are lumpy and my back aches. It feels like I left the heat on, despite my car having been off for the last day or so.

I ran here earlier in the night and crashed in the back seat, hoping to catch some alone time and sleep. I haven’t slept well, much to my dismay; my mind was too awake, revving its engine, ready to go and drive me into a ditch. I retrace my thoughts, recount the steps of how I had got here, lying in the backseat of my beat up Tercel, trying to sleep, trying to outrun this. I suppose I could try to sober up from sleep and trek back to the city. But something about the thought of driving alone on a highway at night terrifies me. Perhaps it’s the thought of being completely alone. Maybe it’s the thought of crashing and not having anyone find me.

I sit up, reaching for my glasses, which are in the cup holder. I slide them onto the bridge of my nose, my gaze tracing up the plastic interior and gazing out the window. I’m parked on the shoulder of a gravel road that can barely fit two cars. To the left is the forest and a few cottages, slowly steeping upwards on a slight hill. To the right is the lake, it’s glassy waters glimmering, the moon shining brightly onto it. Cottages pepper the cleared path before the road and back onto the forest. There’s a few other parked cars along the road, but they’re like ghosts, emptied of their belongings and people. Near the cars are little tin boats that the cottagers use to get across the lake and onto the small islands in the middle. Light from them snakes across the lake, showing where they live. Hours ago, I was like them, with Patrick, in happy company, enjoying the sun, fresh air and lake.

But like always, I had to go and doubt myself. Oh yes, I just had to go and question everything I’ve ever felt about me, about Patrick, about our friendship, about our love. “Stupid Lindey…” I chastise myself. I pull my knees up to my chest and hold myself, drawing a thin gasp of air. I shut my eyes, trying my hardest to block him out of my thoughts. But the more I do, the more the spurs and spats of memory come crawling back to me.

I hear my phone vibrate, and I tense. I look down, the phone screen lit up, burning my eyes. It’s nearly silent, save for the buzz. It ceases a second later. I look down, the words Pat, missed call (4) appearing on the lock screen. A frown creeps across my lips as I unlock my phone and begin to play back his messages.

“Lin, it’s me. Why did you just run off? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me.” His voice is gruff and tired. A shiver goes down my back. “We’re friends right? I don’t want to loose you. And you mean a lot to me.“

The voicemail system flips forwards to the next message. ”Lin. It’s me again. I don’t know where you get off just running away like that. Why won’t you tell me what I did wrong?“

The next. ”You know what, I’ve had it. Call me back or don’t. I don’t care anymore Lindey. You can go-“ I hit the hang up button before I can hear anymore. He’s right though. I have jostled him around. I’ve played with his heart, and led him on. I toss the phone onto the floor of the car and lay back onto the plastic interior.

I mean, I haven’t always felt this way. I love Patrick and I can see myself going into something deeper with him, but, now when I look at him, there’s something missing, not connecting even. He’s whole and complete, and me, I feel like the wires in my brain are jumbled into a large knot, the ends loose and thrown across the edges of my mind.

I’ve been somewhat of a checkerboard in my past – not really caring whether I wake up beside a girl or a guy. When we started, Patrick told me that he was bi, it didn’t bother me. However, he looked expectantly towards me, and I said I was straighter than an arrow with sarcasm lurking behind my words. This memory sends me back into questioning. I never thought much about it – I liked girls and guys and that was that. I never saw anything more than a possible friendship with them. But my parents always said that I would make a great mother, and that kids love me, yet I can’t think of myself like that. Not now, at least. And that’s fine, I suppose.

My phone vibrates again. I look down at it and sigh out of my nose. I pick up the phone and hit answer. ”Lindey?“

I shut my eyes. “Pat.”

We sit in silence for a moment. I hear him breathe and cuss. Words spew from his mouth. Patrick’s hit his word vomit, and things just keep coming and coming from his mouth. He doesn’t stop. It’s a jumble of why would you’s, I don’t understand Lins, and we should just go back to being friends.

“I can feel it. You’re uncomfortable.” He says quietly. His voice is like a whisper in the air. I shut my eyes, pulling the sleeves of my sweater to meet my palms. “You were uncomfortable and still you pushed yourself to do it and rather than facing me and telling me what was wrong, you just… you ran off.”

I stay silent, rolling onto my side and letting the frames of my glasses cut into my face. I attempt to drown him out, but my thoughts are no better. In fact, they’re worse, dragging back old memories and slurs and questions from classmates, friends and family. It’s normal to want sex, right?

Everyone wants it, at least at one point. But then, if you have too much, you’re labelled as a slut, and if you have too little, you’re a prude. If you let anyone touch you like that you’re suddenly easy; and if you let no one, you suddenly have rumours that you have a chastity belt on. If you lust after people, you’re a skank. If you don’t want anyone, you’re boring. And yet, there’s this sinking, awful feeling in my stomach, settling there now. The same one that came over me when Mom told me that she can’t wait for me to have children or when Patrick said any guy would be lucky to have me.

“I don’t understand you Lindey.” He whispers into the phone. His voice is fuzzy and sounds as if he’s fading away, being pulled far from my reach.

“I don’t understand me either,” I say at last.

He stays quiet for another moment, this time much longer. “Why did you ask me out then?” His voice gets a little bit louder.

“I don’t know why, Pat.” I say, raising mine in response.

“Lindey,”

I don’t say a word.

“Do you think we should take a break? From each other, from this?” He asks. “Are we getting too heavy? I know we’ve been together for a while and said that nothing serious would come from this but-”

“I don’t know Patrick.” I say again. And suddenly, I’m the one with the word vomit, spewing out my life’s story. My world. My views. How I’ve felt forever; before adulthood, before adolescence. Before Patrick.

I tell him how I never cared about the valentines I got in grade school, and how I stayed home for all the dances. I tell him of staying awake to watch television and finish a book instead of texting anyone. How when a friend said a boy looked hot, I would look and see nothing. About going to parties in high school and how I got stuck in the closet with another girl who kissed me for the first time. The times when my friends would The time where I went to prom by myself and ended up leaving with someone. About the indifference to losing my virginity and being called a slut for it. How I when on a sex spree to try and see if I could feel something, anything like what my friends constantly spoke of. And then, then is when I tell him, in my quietest voice possible about how in first year college, I slept with my roommate twice and then moved on to the boy down the hall of my residence. And how that boy eventually asked me out and how I ended up here with him; halfway been two cities, sleeping in the back of my car.

He doesn’t say a word. I hear the porch door creak loudly and his footsteps against the floorboards. At last, he speaks. “Lindey.” He says. “Do you think you may be ace?”

I blink several times, staring at the dashboard of my car. I draw a breath and shake my head. Patrick knows me so well, too well, perhaps. Reading my thoughts and in tune with my actions even if I’m not around him.

“What is that?” I ask.

“It’s asexuality. It’s where you don’t like anyone, in a sexual way.” He says.“It’s nothing wrong, it’s just how some people feel about romance and love.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. I love you.” I say, my voice growing slightly frantic. “If I’m that, how could I love you? That doesn’t wor-”

“I mean, it totally works. And it’s subjective to everyone.” He says quickly, grasping at works to make me feel better. “Like Jas. You remember Jasper Alucard, right? The guy who I was talking to back at the post office in town?”

I nod, thinking he can see me. “Yeah, I think I remember him.” I say unconvincingly. I do remember glancing back and seeing Patrick talking to some guy outside the post office when we were there earlier. I only remember long, raven hair and nothing more. I only saw his back.

“Well, he’s ace too, and he’s got a partner right now. It just depends on who you are. Like you can want to be in a relationship and still be ace!” He says, his voice soft but upbeat. “And maybe you’re that. Maybe you’re ace.”

I try to get his metaphor, but it’s lost on me. I don’t know Jas, and I didn’t see him. He’s nothing more to me than a half-assed effort on Patrick’s part to make me seem normal. But instead of his intention, I feel more alienated than ever. “So what? I’m a robot? I’m broken?” I ask, my voice cracks.

“Lindey,”

“Because right now it’s feeling like it, Pat. I… I feel broken.” I cry into my phone. I hiccup tears and shake as Patrick struggles to comfort me over the line.

“Lindey. Lindey!” He yells. I swallow my tears and sniffle as he speaks. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.” His voice is stern now. I hear him pace across the porch, the creaking of the boards under his feet. “You’re not broken for not wanting sex. You’re not a prude or some robot. You’re you. And you’re the girl I love.”

I fall silent again, my hands balling into fists as . “Lindey.” He says. “I love you. No matter who or what you are.”

I stay silent. My eyes well up. I know what’s coming. His voice has gone down in tone, becoming lower. He’s quiet. I can hear the waves lapping against the shore over the line. I hold my head in one hand, shutting my eyes tight. ”We should stop and figure things out. I think it’d be best if we-“

"We need to take a break.” I let a hiccup sneak into the conversation and then cover my mouth, sucking back a breath between my fingers. I part them slightly, allowing the words to creep through.. “I need a break. I need to figure myself out. That’s what you were going to say, and I agree.”

“You do? You’re not just saying that?” His voice grows quieter for a moment.

“Pat, I’m not. I’m certain.” I lie in a louder voice, attempting to hide that I’m crying. I swipe at my eyes. I attempt to hold myself together, keep myself from sobbing into the phone, begging for him or anyone to make myself make sense once again. I hate to lie to myself, to Patrick, but I can’t tell him that I want to keep going after I think – know – that I’m ace. I feel like I’m living a lie, telling myself that I’m okay going to bed with him even though I don’t see that in him. “It’d be best for us, right? Get our lives together before going forwards?”

“You’re right.” He says. His voice is eerily calm, barely above a whisper. I hear a loon call on the other end, and the real thing in my other ear. I fill the silence: “I’ll get my stuff out of the apartment.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” Patrick asks with concern.

“I mean, it’s apart of a break, right? I cut myself off from you, you cut yourself from me?” I say. Being ace and in a relationship feels so alien, so abnormal, unjust. I need to break away from him, I need to be alone.

“Right.” He says. “But where will you stay?”

“I’ll stay here until school comes back . Then I’ll go back to the city.” I say. “I’m sure I can find somewhere to stay.”

“As long as you’ll be all right.” He says. I hide a sniffle and another sob under the guise of a cough. “Lindey… I love you.” He says.

I stay quiet. “And if we get our shit together, maybe we’ll try again?” He says. “At the end of the summer?”

I nod into the phone. “Yep. Okay.” I say. His voice becomes distant. The words slip out of my mouth “I love you too, Pat.”

A moment passes and I feel dread pinch my nerves. Patrick takes a breath and then he breathes the words, “take care of yourself” and hangs up on me.

#chewie talks #ocs #writing #lindey #lmao have some of my weeb daughter's backstory #this is like just when shes going through grad school lmao #will i ever finish this??? Probably not #patrick #feel free to ignore #id appreciate if yall dont reblog this??? idk #likes r appreciated by reblog s make me nervous idjk

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