#cant draw anything so i’ll curse you with this at the last moment instead

[stickstone]

happy 20th warrior cats fandom

#cant draw anything so i’ll curse you with this at the last moment instead #your welcome #warrior cats #firestar

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 2

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Swordplay~

To summarise: I will have the love square one way or another!

Ao3

First >Next 

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

As far as homes go it’s pretty good” Adrien stretches out, Plagg curls up next to him.

“Don't get too comfortable we’re going to be on the move,” Marinette types furiously at her computer.

“I will try my hardest,” Adrien stares blankly at her, sat atop a pile of grubby blankets next to a broken window. Marinette loses connection to her computer and slams it shut with a huff.

“Get some sleep I’m going to find an internet cafe,” Marinette stuffs the cheap laptop into her bag, amazing how something she bought at a hole in the wall place for thirty bucks didn’t work well.

“Who needs sleep when you can have coffee,” Adrian stands up, ready to follow her.

“Sleep Chat,” She pushes him down by the shoulders, “I need my partner fully operational,”

“Yeah kid, take a break, we worked hard,” Plagg yawns, turning over.

“You also worked hard Bug,” Adrien lets himself be pushed back onto the blankets.

“I won't be able to sleep until I know how everything is in Paris,”

“Neither can I,” Adrien protests, already half asleep.

“Sure you can, night Chat,”

“Night M’lady,”

Marinette leaves the same way they came in, though the window. She has to slide down the gutter to get on the street, Tikki hiding away in her bag. She has to go pretty far in town to find a suitable cafe, too far from Adrien to be comfortable. Marinette pops in her earbuds before opening her computer to let her talk to Tikki freely.

She doesn't immediately search up missing person cases. Looking instead at Paris tourist destinations and guides. Switching to the dangers of traveling to Paris; the only mention of Akuma being on obscure question and answer sites. She looks at kidnapping potential and then moves onto missing person cases. Adrien's is the first to come up, obviously. 

There was lots of outcry among his fans. Many were throwing around accusations of foul play on Gabriel's part from abuse to locking Adrien away from the world. However, Gabriel was also fiercely looking for his son. Adrien hadn’t left behind any sort of note. Well only to Nino, which Adrien had told Marinette was asked not to mention to anyone.

Marinette then feels safe enough to look up her own case. It was smaller, although was gaining attention as Jagged proclaimed it to high heavens; more so asking what they did wrong and how they could fix it and asking for any sightings of her. That could be a problem if her picture was already around. Marinette pulls her hood up higher. They might have to get haircuts and wear disguises… on second thought wearing suspicious disguises in Gotham might cause more problems.

“Tikki they seem really worried,” Marinette watches the videos Jagged posted, her parents in the background running around talking with police.

“Of course they are Mari,” Marinette feels a light tap on her side, “But you're doing the right thing,”

“No I’m not,” not when she’s watching a video of her parents crying,  “I’m doing what needs to be done, this is my responsibility, no matter what a certain someone thinks,”

She spits with venom. Maybe Adriens rant last night rubbed off on her.

“He’s the hero here,” Tiki says non accusingly, “Imagine if another hero came to Paris without asking you… remember Volpina?”

“Ah now that was an actual villain,” Marinette hadn’t trusted her from the start,  “Plus she was akumatized,”

“Marinette,” Marinette can’t bring herself to feel guilty, even under tikis scolding.

“Right but that still doesn't give him the right,” Marinette huffs, “After all would he attack Marinette? No!”

“Are you implying you would attack Lila?”

“......... no,”

“Marinette,”

Marinetti smirks to herself instinctively looking around for Adrien to share her joke. Then Marinette froze. The cafe was empty, not even a barista. How had she not noticed!?

“Wait,” Marinetti says out loud before Tiki could talk, “I’m going to have to call you back, something just came up,”

Something was watching her from the kitchen door as if she couldn’t see them. Marinette tries to act normal going for the pepper on the table and putting it on her food. They move at the same time. The attacker runs towards her, Marinette throws the shaker at- Robin?! It hits him square in the forehead, with a curse he touches his bleeding forehead.

“I am so sorry!” Marinette panics, “That was meant to explode in your face!”

“How is that better?!” Robin runs forward, sword drawn. Marinette ducks behind the table grabbing her plate and frisbeeing it towards him, he manages to dodge this one, “Draw your weapon coward!"

“I don’t have a weapon!” She grabs the table cloth ready to take the vigilante down, “What is wrong with you?!”

He doesn't answer lunging at her again with the sword. Marinette kicks up the table then kicks it towards him in one swift movement. With the impact of the table he drops the sword, Marinette jumps up landing on the table which pins Robin down to the ground with its weight and hers, with the legs sticking up.

“I knew it,” Robin spits and she presses her weight into the table to keep him pinned.

“Excuse you,” Marinette catches his wrist as he tries to pull a dagger on her using the table cloth to tie it to the legs of the table, then does the same with the other, “You attacked me,”

“-Robin!” she hears a faint call, no one is around so it must be from his communicator, “-Robin report back to the cave!”

“I’ll take that~” Marinette sings songs ignoring how he growls at her. She rolls her eyes stepping off the table she needed to get out of here now.

She steps out of the cafe throwing the communicator and likely a tracking device too on the roof of a passing car then sprints in the opposite direction. She heads for the alleys looking for an area with no cameras as she runs. When she finds a spot Marinette transforms running back to their base with record timing.

“Adrien wake up!” Ladybug jumps through the window, barely avoiding landing on him, “Batman’s after us,”

“What?!” He sits bolt upright, Ladybug pulls him onto his feet.

“Move! Now!” She grabs their bags, Adrien transforms and they take off over the rooftops.

“What happened?!” Chat shouts as the runaway, “Is Batman chasing us?”

“Yes, well kinda-- Robin tried to kill me,”

“He what?!”

“As Marinette,” She adds, slowing down as they should have put enough distance between them.

“Did they figure us out already?” Chat Noir slows down into a walk then collapses on the rooftop,

"Probably,"

“This is the worst wake up call ever!”

“Well, it's about to get worse,” Ladybug cringes feeling the distinct trace of magic she was all too familiar with.

“Akuma?”

“Akuma,”

“Great, perfect,” Chat complains standing back up.

“At least we’re not at school,” Ladybug shrugs, launching herself over a roof.

“No you’re right being chased by a masked vigilante is a massive improvement,”

---

Wow

“Robin! Get your head out of the clouds and get over here!”

Damian breaks out of his trance, regrettably tearing his gaze away from Ladybug to the much less awe inspiring sight of Batman trapped under a car. They shouldn’t be wasting their time worrying about these established amazing hero’s and worry about that assassin on the loose. Who knows who she was after. She could be planning Batman’s demise at this very moment; if she was close with his mother then surely she knew their identities which was far far more dangerous.

Ladybug could handle herself as evidence by her going toe to toe with the newest villain. In a matter of minutes, the villain was down for the count with no help on their part. 

“Ladybug!” He calls before she leaves again, maybe she could help him convince his father that he was being an absolute buffoon.

“Oh it’s you,” She says surprisingly coldly, “What do you want now?”

“Now?”

“Are, you here to attack me again?”

“... I didn’t attack you?” He had spent all morning tracking down a dangerous assassin.

“... Oh! Of course, you did- haha I just ummmm-- there must have been an… Akuma! Yes! There must have been an Akuma earlier that looked like you,”

“An Akuma was impersonating me?” Robin growls.

“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Chat Noir pipes up, “It’s annoying,”

“Yes and if you’re here, that uh… that means the Akuma is still out there so we gotta go deal with that so-bye!” Ladybug swings off closely followed by Chat Nor; off to go save his name and reputation.

---

“So you really think that was an Akuma?” Adrien asks as they transform back.

“Maybe- I don’t know it was just an excuse so he wouldn't figure out my identity,”

“Well at least he doesn't know it,” Adrien shrugs as they walk through the alleys in search of a new place to rest that night.

“If he doesn't know then why would he attack Marinette?” She asks, “And if it was an Akuma that means Hawkmoth knows my identity which is so much worse!”

“Is it tho?”

“Chat,”

“I mean back in Paris it would have been bad,” They both cringe, “But here we have no home, no family, no friends! He cant use any of that against us now!”

Adrien beams his contagious smile.

“You always manage to find a bright side,” Marinette smirks punching him in the shoulder.

“So that's why,” They both turn around, staring in shock.

“Batman?!” Turning back their way out is already blocked by mister boy wonder. Who, by the way he is glaring at her, was not an Akuma this morning.

“I can't believe Talia called me because some teenagers were eloping,”

I know that name- WAIT!

“Eloping?!” Marinette chokes, “We are not eloping!”

“As in not at all,” Adrien blanches, “And I mean no offense Marinette you are literally the sweetest person but I can’t imagine anything more horrific!”

“Oh god, same!” At least now, “I mean once when we were younger…-- it was a silly crush!”

“Wait you had a crush on me?!”

“Yeah, well, you had a crush on me!”

“... oh god… I did, didn’t I?!”

While Adrien is dealing with that little revelation Marinette looks around for an escape. There isn’t much opportunity since both have their eyes on them, partly out of morbid curiosity at their little freakout. Well if you don't have a distraction homemade is fine.

“AKUMA!” They both look, predictably. 

Marinette grabs Adrien and runs. She goes for the side Robins guarding, sweeping his legs sending him crashing to the ground.

“I’m not sorry!” Marinette calls as they sprint down the alley.

Marinette heads for the main street, enough of a crowd to camouflage. As they are walking through as casually as possible Marinette sweeps them both for bugs putting any she finds on random passerbys. They walk sometimes ducking into busy shops in hopes of losing their trail. They come across the mall which works perfectly for them. They stay until it starts to approach closing time, it’s easy enough to avoid security and so they get locked in for the night.

“So what do you want to do?!” They walk through the empty halls Adrien skipping along and looking at each display. Marinette stops outside an electronics store, the tv’s still on and displaying the news.

“Make a plan for a way to deal with that,” On-screen are the two of them, a video of Ladybug throwing a car at Batman, “This is taken completely out of context!”

“What’s the context?” 

“Batman was being a little bitch!”

“I’m sure that will hold up in court,” Adrien laughs taking a seat in one of those massage chairs, “Besides what's the problem?”

“The problem?!” Marinette yells, “The problem is that now all of Gotham is going to hate us!”

“So? Do we really need them to like us?” Adrien gets up to stand by her, rubbing her shoulder.

“They did in Paris,”

“We’re not in Paris anymore,” Adrien says quietly, leading her towards the seats, “We have a chance to start new again, everyday something we haven't done before, a couple of pals living day to day on the edge, isn’t that exciting?”

“I just--” want to go home, “I’m tired,”

“Take a break,” Adrien sits her down in the massage chair with a kind smile, “I’ll keep watch,”

“.. ok,” Marinette curls up in the chair Tikki coming to lie beside her. With not much strength to fight it, Marinette falls asleep while she can.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous marinette #Marinette #badass marinette #batfam #daminette #good adrien #slow burn

[janekfan]

I'm a little hesitant about this prompt, because it might need a longer story to fill it, but based on reading your fics it may be to your taste for h/c? I've seen a few Geraskier stories where Geralt is cursed to lose his sight and hearing, but I'd be interested to read one where it's Jaskier who's cursed instead. You seem to like exploring growth in stories, and I could see Geralt having to step outside his comfort zone, learning to help and support Jask while they try to break the curse.

I was inspired by this prompt because in my youth, when families go to water parks and things, my mother insisted on holding my glasses so I wouldn't lose them, not realizing I cannot see hardly ANYTHING without them, just colors. She left me like half a dozen times in a throng of people and it was scary. And even though I kept telling her I couldn't SEE HER, she wouldn't listen. I felt scared and stupid because I couldn't keep track of my family.

So I hope you enjoy :D

Thank you for the prompt! @obscurebookwyrm

Sankofa

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965268/chapters/63119659

“Geralt.”

“Hm.”

“I. What do you want me to say?” Jaskier’s grip on his lute tightened and he had to forcibly relax himself so as not to snap it in twain. “That you should have gotten hit with it instead? That you should be the one waiting for the effects of a curse to take hold so that I? The mighty bard can be the one to protect us both?”

“Hm.”

“Need I remind you that had you not pissed her off, we wouldn’t even be here?”

“Hm.”

“Fine. Leave me at the next village and I’ll just succumb to whatever this ends up being while you continue witchering or whatever.”

“Hm.” Roach picked up her pace and he could hear Jaskier curse Geralt’s stubbornness as he loped after them.

Geralt was angry. Angrier than usual with the musician and definitely not impressed with his self sacrifice because now, if anything, he would be an even bigger liability. It was bad enough he fumbled along behind him, constantly jabbering, writing the most ridiculous songs. But now, Geralt had to wait and see what would become of him now that he’d been hit with some unnamed affliction. Geralt refused to admit that Jaskier was right. That it was better that the stronger of them was curse free and able to continue on unimpaired.

But he was now an even larger inconvenience and Geralt hadn’t thought that was possible.

And yet.

As brave a face as he was putting on, he could smell the sour scent of anxiousness as Jaskier filled up the silence with more talk about inane things, stray lyrics, random observations, all because he was nervous.

Nothing happened yet. Maybe nothing would happen at all.

“Geralt.” Even and steady, Jaskier’s voice hovered somewhere to the left of him. There was something strange about the quality of it and it immediately set Geralt on edge.

“What?” He couldn’t help the exasperation, it had been a long few days, and he felt Jaskier tense beside him on his bed roll.

“There.” He paused and Geralt knew if he turned to look at him he’d be worrying his lip between his teeth.

“What?” They were late as it is, the sun three fingers above the horizon already.

“There are no stars.” His whispering was shaky and trembling. Fear. It was flooding Geralt’s sensitive nose. What was this lunatic on about? Of course there weren’t any stars.

“It’s late morning. Of course there aren’t.” He rolled his eyes and began packing up camp. They’d eat on the move to make up for lost time. He nudged Jaskier with the toe of his boot. “Get up. You’re wasting daylight.”

“Daylight.” His hand was hovering over his face and he kicked him a little harder.

“Yes. Daylight. Move or stay here, but I’m leaving.” Instead of following his directions, Jaskier swallowed a few times, blinking hard and staring at his palm in between. “Jaskier.” Growling, grabbing the collar of his chemise and slinging him to his feet himself, confused when his arms shot out for balance and he nearly fell. “What are you--are you drunk?” No. He’d smell it. But it was all becoming a little too clear and Geralt didn’t want to be the one to say it aloud.

“No.” A weak exhale, a disbelieving laugh. “I’m. I’m blind.”

Blind.

The curse.

“Are you sure?” Geralt was a hair's breadth away from his face, examining his eyes, blank and vacant and staring off into the distance despite their proximity. There was nothing wrong that he could tell. Still the same cornflower blue he was so familiar with.

“I think I’d know.” He scoffed.

“Then we’d better get moving.” Geralt couldn’t help it, the thread of anger twisting around his words just happened. All Jaskier seemed to do was slow him down and get in the way. “Find a way to break this thing.” It took the bard three times longer to pack his belongings and Geralt became more impatient every time he dropped something or stubbed his toe or lost his balance. He knew it wasn’t fair. But this was all the bard’s fault in the first place and he’d have to deal with the consequences.

Jaskier played his lute even more and was even slower, not yet sure on his feet without the advantage of sight. Geralt saw that he kept his ear canted towards Roach’s hooves crunching on the stones, using her as a guide and he wondered if maybe Jaskier should be riding her instead. The music he was picking out on his strings was simpler and felt more like practice than anything new and he realized that he was comforting himself with easy exercises and wondered how long he’d insist on doing it.

All day, it turned out, and Geralt was just about on his last nerve, turning his irritability into action by setting up camp and batting Jaskier out of his way, finally just sitting him in the dirt. He stoked up the fire, tossed down Jaskier’s bedroll and stalked off to find dinner and clear his head before he started yelling.

When he returned with a brace of rabbits, Jaskier was gone and Geralt swallowed down the spike of panic in his throat, dropping his catch and looking for signs of a struggle and instead finding odd marks that looked like Jaskier had crawled across the ground. And he found him, cowering amid Roach’s legs, a dangerous spot for probably anyone else, but she was as calm as ever, letting him stroke the length of her forelimb. There were drying tear tracks on his face.

“G’Geralt?” His voice was small and wavering, barely above his shaking breath.

“Who else would it be?”

“I didn’t know where you’d gone.” He didn’t leave the horse. “I, I called out. But. And then. There’s a lot of noises in the woods at night.” This laugh was self deprecating, as though he knew how ridiculous he was being, like a child hiding from shadows.

But his whole world was in shadow.

“You’ve camped before. It’s foolish to be afraid.”

“Y’yeah. Of course it is.” He extricated himself from his position beneath Roach, petting her neck, and Geralt let it be. “Thank you for your protection, good lady.” She lipped the collar of his doublet and he rested his cheek on her velvet nose for just a moment before stumbling back to his bedroll.

“Here.” Jaskier looked confused. “The rabbit. Dinner?”

“Oh, uh.” He reached out, drawing his hand quickly back when he burned the tips of his fingers and slipping them into his mouth for a second. “Ha, it’s hot.” Geralt yanked his wrist and pressed the stick he’d roasted the meat on against his palm and watched Jaskier’s fingers wrap around it reflexively.

“Just eat. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”

They didn’t. Not the next day, nor the day after that, but Jaskier was trying to adjust more and more each day despite how he seemed to be withdrawing. It was easy to forget he was blind and Geralt was easily frustrated by his sense of direction, or rather the awful lack of it. More than once, he’d misjudged the path and toppled into the bushes. Twice, Geralt had come back from a hunt to find him trapped in the corner of their rented room. He’d gotten turned around and hadn’t been able to figure out how he was boxed in by the bed, the small table, a chair. Jaskier laughed it off.

He’d been upset each time.

At the market the next day, Geralt told him off handedly that he was heading to the blacksmith, and to catch up when he was ready, because usually he wanted to dither about at the stalls looking at some trinket or another. When he’d finally realized, tapping his foot and waiting for a blind man who didn’t know his way around this village to somehow find him, he followed his scent, laced with terror, to an alley where he’d pressed himself up tight to the wall, protecting his back. They didn’t speak, Geralt just grabbed his wrist and dragged him back to the room. Told him to stay there if he couldn’t figure out how to find his way around.

The hurt on his face cut like a blade.

“Get down and stay down.” Geralt shoved Jaskier’s face into the dirt, both of them narrowly avoiding decapitation when the beast attacked out of nowhere. Caught flat footed, Geralt found himself pinned to the ground, struggling under the weight of it and hooking his thumbs in the corners of its maw to keep the teeth from closing around his head. Fetid breath came closer and closer and he thought for a moment this might be it when the resounding crack of a tree limb colliding with the side of its skull stunned it enough for Geralt to kick it off him. He used the momentum to roll and draw his steel sword, cutting off its head with a wet and sickening squelch.

“Geralt?” Jaskier, covered in black ichor and mud, stood swaying in the road, clinging to a length of splintered wood, blind eyes wide with shock. And then, panting with horror, Jaskier fainted dead away.

He’d lost him again.

“Fuck.” Geralt didn’t know where or how long ago and began retracing his steps, scenting the air and picking up the faintest traces of the oils he’d used last night in the bath. It was tainted by the smell of fear, acrid and sharp, and he ran.

Saw Jaskier pinned up against a wall by a larger man than he, a broad, ugly hand clasped over his mouth and a knee between his thighs. He was struggling to breathe, high pitched whimpering slipped from behind his attacker’s palm and he grabbed a fistful of hair to slam the back of Jaskier’s head into the wall behind him.

The brute didn’t notice the knife slipped between his ribs until it was too late. He’d die in this place and Geralt wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.

“Who--” He sobbed, choked. “Geralt?” Tears cascaded down his cheeks, slipped off his chin.

“Who was that?” Why couldn’t he be kind to Jaskier when he needed it most? Why did he let his own fear of the situation manifest as blame?

“He’d. Solicited me in the tavern and I told him no.” He shuddered. “I thought he might be following but.” He swallowed with a wet click. “You were walking so fast, I lost the sound of your steps.” Drawing a sharp intake of breath he swept a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm himself down. Geralt could hear his heartbeat hammering madly away behind his breastbone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jaskier flinched at his volume, hugging himself around his middle and casting his face to the ground, and if Geralt was a stronger man he would tell his bard that this was not his fault. That he was scared of what he almost let happen.

“I. You were angry.”

“What?” With the heel of his hand, Jaskier scrubbed at his face. His bruised face, the imprints from where he was held darkening around his mouth and neck.

“You said I needed to figure this out and. I.” Had been snatched off the street by a predator and very nearly badly hurt. “I forgot my dagger back at the inn.” He took a deep breath, and then another. “I’m sorry, that was. That was stupid.”

“Hm.” It wasn’t. He should have been safe with Geralt in broad daylight. This time he took his hand, laced their fingers together and squeezed. “Let’s go.”

Exhausted from his earlier panic, Jaskier could barely stand when they reached the room, and Geralt helped him the last few steps to the bed, divesting him of doublet and chemise to expose even more bruising. He should have killed the guy slower. Much slower.

“Sorry. I’m sorry you have to do this.” Barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have. This curse.”

“Hush.” Geralt wrung out a cloth in the wash basin, touched it to his face and caught him when he jerked away in fear and surprise. “It’s alright. Just me. I’m going to get you cleaned up, Jaskier.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Muttering, he reached for the flannel.

“I know. Just. Relax, alright?” He swept it up his arm, lingered at the space between his neck and shoulder. “I’ve got you. I’m. Going to do better, Jaskier.”

“What do you mean?” This time, he allowed the touch and Geralt dabbed at a cut on his lip before rinsing and wringing again.

“You’ll ride Roach. In towns, I won’t let you out of my sight.” Jaskier was relaxing, blinking sleepily.

“You can’t babysit me all the time, Geralt.” Though he detected the hope that he wouldn’t have to keep doing this alone beneath his voice.

“No. But I can take care of you until we find a way to break this. Like I should have been doing from the start.” Jaskier’s head was nodding as he fought to stay awake. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Geralt let Jaskier sleep in. The man was dead to the world, bruises stark on his pale skin, and no doubt exhausted from the day before and trying to manage as a newly blind being basically traveling alone. They had to get moving. Maybe Yennefer would understand how to break this curse or at least point them in a direction. But they had to find her first.

“Jaskier.” There was no response, not even a twitch, and Geralt spoke his name louder, and louder still before shaking him awake and dodging his flying fist. “Jaskier!” Nothing but panic in his face and Geralt was tired of seeing that there. He settled his hands over his shoulders, cupped his neck on either side. “Jaskier, what is it? A bad dream?” That wasn’t uncommon after an experience like he’d had.

“Geralt?” His breathing picked up, tears lined his dark lashes. “I.” The witcher snapped his fingers on either side of his head and watched his stricken face stay the same. “Geralt?” This time he drew Jaskier into an embrace, hugging him tightly and allowing him to do the same.

Because he couldn’t hear.

#prompt #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #Jaskier #Geralt #Blindness #Deaf #Curse #hurt comfort

[bridgyrose]

May I ask for a sequel request based on your post with Summer losing her cool on RWBYJ, please? Summer visits RWBYJ after her initial meeting, noticing that they don't seem to be doing any better. Yang thankfully seems to be trying her best. Yang, nervous from earlier, asks Summer to help Jaune. Sum agrees and has a meaningful conversation with Jaune about Pyrrha and Penny. Sum returns to Yang, explaining she gave Jaune a helpful boost and gives her a reassuring smile and hug before leaving.

Summer watched her daughters and their friends from a distance, starting to get worried about how they were handling everything. As far as she could tell, the group of kids were doing their best, but at this point, their best wasnt enough. Shouting could be heard periodically from Ruby and Jaune, sometimes about Penny, sometimes about Neo. Speaking of, the mute girl wasnt exactly making things easier for them either. It was a surprise to see her around the group, but with Blake and Yang on edge around her, Jaune trying to give her a chance and Ruby being… done with everything… Summer shook her head and slowly moved her way around the island, looking for the best way to help without actively interfering. If the kids were going to get back to Remnant, they had to without her help. 

“Mom, can we… talk?” 

Summer paused as she heard Yang’s voice, slowly turning to face her. “About?” 

“Preferably...all of this.” Yang sighed and kicked a rock. “Where we are, how we can get back home… maybe even talk to Jaune and Ruby about Penny… and Pyrrha.” 

“And what do you expect me to do about any of this?” 

“I… I dont know… we’re just… lost. We need some sort of direction.” 

Summer sighed. “Then you’ll find-” 

“Then you can help us find the direction we need.” Yang looked over to Summer with sad eyes. “We get it: we followed blindly and ended up in this mess. But right now, Ruby and Jaune could really use someone to talk to. But right now, Jaune could use the help the most. He’s lost two good friends, assisted one with death and was pushed away from the other and couldnt save either of them.” 

Summer sighed and nodded. “Alright, I’ll speak to them. But… I dont hold any promises that it’ll fix anything.” 

“We dont need you to fix anything for us, we just need everyone to work together again. We’re not getting out of here without everyone being on the same page.” 

Summer smiled for a moment and pulled Yang into a hug before heading off to find Jaune to talk to him. She was glad Yang seemed to be doing better, although she knew her daughter always had a habit of putting others before herself. A habit that even Summer knew she had. It didnt stop her from worrying about Yang, about Ruby… and knowing that their team and friends were going down the same path that her own team did… she knew she couldnt keep away for long. 

It wasnt long before Summer came across Jaune, who seemed to be sitting alone near a river that fed into the sea. A quiet and secluded spot, perfect for thinking and wallowing in one's grief. She walked up behind him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yang asked me to talk to you.” 

Jaune sighed, staring into the river. “I… I couldnt save them.” 

“It’s… a hard lesson to learn, but you cant save everyone no matter how hard you try.” 

“But I could’ve saved them! I just…. I needed more time! If only I had been by Pyrrha’s side and if I had just tried harder to help Penny-” 

“Then you would’ve been dead too.” 

Jaune went silent and turned slightly to see Summer move to his side. He was still guilt ridden, still hurting from the fact that he couldnt save anyone. That one person he cared about left him and the other he had to help in another way. And it all felt… wrong.

Summer sat down and sighed. “Trust me from experience, but not everyone can or wants to be saved. From how I hear you and the others talk about Pyrrha, she would’ve tried to defend Beacon no matter what. And what happened to Penny… that was a choice she wanted to make to keep the maiden powers from falling into the wrong hands. And it doesnt seem like either one of them had a real choice in the matter.” 

“I… I could’ve helped Pyrrha-” 

“And you would’ve died too.” Summer sighed for a moment before drawing her own weapon, a simple spear, and started drawing in the sand. “Your strength isnt physical. Sure, you can fight and you’ve been training, but your real strength lies in how you care about others. How you want to help them whenever you can. Unfortunately, that means people like us dont tend to live very long lives if all you do is put yourself out there for others and never step back to help yourself. Being with Pyrrha wouldnt have made a difference. In the end, going up against a maiden without a plan is a death sentence.” 

Jaune stayed silent, gazing at his reflection. For a moment, he swore he could see Pyrrha standing behind him, smiling. After a few moments, he finally spoke up. “So… what exactly am I supposed to do?” 

“Continue helping others without throwing yourself into danger.” Summer finished drawing a few figures in the sand, putting her weapon away. “Sacrificing yourself until there’s nothing left or pushing yourself to be with someone until the end will only hurt those around you instead of saving anyone. If you truly want to help others, you’ll first need to help yourself by supporting those where they need it. Not where you think you need to be.” 

Jaune looked over to the drawing, recognizing it as Summer and her family. “You… you sacrificed yourself for your family, didnt you?” 

Summer nodded. “Everything I’m telling you, I learned first hand. I… I tried to defeat Salem on my own. Sacrificed myself to save everyone else that I cared about. And… I failed. I learned that Salem cant be defeated easily. That as long as Remnant turns, she will live on.” 

Jaune hesitated for a moment, remembering what Ruby had told him about Ozpin and Salem, about the curse and immortality. Penny’s last words filled his mind as everything started to become clearer. “Trust me…” 

Summer looked over to Jaune. “What was that?” 

“Its… something Penny told me when she asked me to… you know…” Jaune took a deep breath and stood up, heading back to his friends. “But… I think I know what I need to do now. Thank you.” 

Summer nodded and smiled at him. “It was my pleasure.” She stood up and started walking towards Yang, ready to tell her that she at least talked to Jaune. She still intended to speak to Ruby, but that conversation would need to wait just a little longer. Once she got to Yang, she hugged her tightly and smiled. “Your friend will be a bit better. I think I talked a bit of sense into him.” 

Yang nodded and hugged back. “And Ruby?” 

“I’ll speak to her when the time is right. But for now, keep an eye on your friends. And make sure to take care of yourself.” 

Yang pulled away from Summer, watching her disappear into the light. She sat down and took a deep breath. “Thanks, mom.” 

#rwby #yang xiao long #jaune arc #summer rose #drabbles #angsty drabbles #tw penny's death #penny's death

[sanstropfremir]

Okay, time for my weekly rant so buckle up. The vocal stages were okay-I cant really remember them well because I watched them only once so take what I say with a grain of salt. Well I watched the Spark one once and I only got through half of the other one because I can’t stand ballads especially when there’s no interesting movement on stage to keep me engaged. Like it’s no fault of the members themselves or the song (I actually think their singing was incredibly beautiful and Eunkwang always sings like his wife just left him with the kids which is how you know he’s good) but I physically could not pay attention. That’s why I liked the spark stage a bit better-there was enough movement that I was able to focus on it. I really liked the use of the fire and the way they were walking in and out of the frame trading off parts so there weren’t too many awkward moments where the other members where on stage but not doing anything. The opening was gorgeous with each members being lit by the spotlight as they harmonize. So stagewise, I prefer Spark but vocally I think the other group was stronger. I love Spark and Taeyon is such an incredible vocalist (I mean the song is great because of her) so I don’t get why their delivery was, I don’t want to say weak, but subdued might be a better word. The only one that really stood out was Junhoe (but also that man couldn’t not stand out even if he tried, not with that incredibly rasp) and even he seemed to be holding himself back a bit. Though it was a bit slow it built up well to the two last choruses but still the first half could have been stronger. I know they were trying to draw it out to a strong pay off but I don’t really know if it was enough. And yes the suits were *chef’s kiss*. I think at this point in their career the FNC stylist has put SF9 in so many suits they’ve got it down to a science. Also I’m a sucker for those shirts with the triangle cut out and we got not one but two of them here.

Okay moving on, I’m not sure which group was next but I’ll talk about the Ikon stage. It seems like they finally realized that they’re on a performance based competition show so they decided to pull out the big guns. Love the little skit at the beginning (making sure people don’t forget that they’re YG), it was cute and refreshing. I really appreciated how they leaned into the campy acting in this stage (Stray kids did it too-just adding to the similarities between their stages). The song was meh but I also don’t really like BP especially not their recent stuff so it’s not a big deal. I would have preferred if they had gone with another song maybe Whistle or As If It’s Your Last or if they’d done a 2NE1 song like Chanwoo mentioned some point in the episode. I also think the stage would have been way smoother if they’d let Ikon and Lisa interact. Like if the boys appeared in her set after her section and then they all moved back to the first jungle set and then the whole thing turns gold and they did a dramatic outfit change (but with better jackets because theirs look like they came out of Party City). I also get what you mean about the dancers outfits not being that great. I actually really liked the outfits of Lisa’s dancers in isolation but they didn’t match with her or the set so they threw me off a bit. At least with the ikon members they were going for a modern look so the dancers outfits didn’t look that strange in comparison. Do you think it would have been better if they were white? How would you have improved then? The best way I can describe this performance was that it was a stage, stuff happened, I enjoyed myself but I don’t plan to revisit it anytime soon. Oh and we also have to give points for them cursing on national television not once but twice (at this point Jinwan deserves to say fuck).

Now to Stray Kids. So I feel like I need to preface this with the fact that I am actually a stray kids fan (I won’t call myself a stay because I don’t associate with the fandom) and though I’ve been really critical of them and their stages tend to be my least favorite I still have a soft spot for them (I got into this show because of them after all). I loved, loved, loved the intro with Felix (and yes his biggest flaw is that he’s Australian but I forgive him for it) and the way it immediately transitions into the chorus of DDD-the abrupt transition does fit really well with the Deadpool theme and I guess it is the closest they’re going to get to the feeling of yeeting themselves into traffic like in the movie. Interesting choice to start with the chorus. Now that I’m rewatching it I do really wish they stuck with the comic theme. I think that’s my gripe with SKZ-they have a lot of good ideas but they move on too quickly from them. Just pick a handful of things and sprinkle them throughout instead of cycling through them at breakneck speed. Like okay they’re doing Deadpool and he’s a comic character so keep the comic styling (it would have been a good thing to put in the projection behind Seungmin’s scene), maybe in the subway they could have had some fight choreo so the guns coming in at Lee Knows part aren’t out of nowhere (also someone please tell me they were trying to recreate the meme with the cat and the knives, please I need to know). I absolutely agree that them having a goal or an antagonist would have really helped the story along. I mean they literally have a spoken intro so why couldn’t Felix just tell us who they were fighting (and I’m pretty sure in the movie Wade tells us he’s trying to kill Francis in that scene sooo). As always they put more focus on the rappers (please can we get less Changbin and more Seungmin, Jeongin, or Lee Know or at least give Felix more parts). Seungmin was the real mvp of this stage and he had the best outfit (I think it qualifies for Hanya’s best gay little outfit list). Personally I with they hadn’t gone with Gods Menu again. I’ve been hoping that they would perform My Pace (and maybe remix it with their B-side TA off their Go Live album) because that would be such a fun stage. Again, I enjoyed myself but I won’t revisit it anytime soon. At this point the only groups I actually look forward to are BTOB and SF9 (they’re doing fucking Move and I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified-there’s a clip of Taeyang covering Move from a variety show or interview and I think he does it really well so I know at least one of them can pull it off). Again thanks for creating space where I can info dump and I hope I said something of interest to you!

i think you wrote more than me!! i love this, im gonna put my response under a cut im not being super obnoxious on the dash.

i get that the mayfly stage would be not as visually stimulating for people and usually i would count myself in with that crowd because i love a good spectacle but i think because i watched the spark stage first and my colour perception is sometimes weird so when there's a lot of movement with very little colour variation my tiny pea brain loses track of whats happening really quickly. especially with red. so it was kind of difficult for me to pay attention to the spark stage in the second half. also i absolutely HATE watching people flub on stage because it brings up such visceral secondhand feelings that i couldn't even watch the stage when i started the full episode today.

i love a good suit but you know what i would also love: sf9 in more costume variations. tbh im just getting nitpicky about it because im a costume designer down to the core and i got trained by a designer who specialized in doing avant garde costuming so i tend to skew more towards wild than reserved. it looks like the move stage wont be be suits so ill take it, but oh man to do i want to see some really crazy stuff. which i know they'll never do because idols have to be pretty at all times or the fans get mad but oh i want it so badly.

do you mean how i would improve ikon's backup dancers outfits or lisa's? here why dont i do both. for lisa's dancers i would have just done away with that harness shape all together, its almost exclusively a military style. the jackets by themselves would have been fine but really what they should have done was put them in something that matched the gold but contrasted enough to give them shape. by having at least her dancers in all black on a gold stage there was a lot of "haha look at me do a duck walk because lets throw in some voguing for spice." they could have gone with a mesh bodysuit idea similar to what she was wearing or even just different colour coats. as for ikon's backup dancers, firstly pants. not black. or even a longer skirt. genuinely a part of the reason why i dont watch girl group content is because i HATE the hem length of the shorts they make everyone wear. words cannot describe how much i hate that cut. kpop is so obsessed with showing off women's bodies and especially their legs but they do it in the LEAST flattering way possible because it "can't be too risqué," just shoot me now. i hate it. i hate it so fucking much. yea yea everybody was on cocaine in the 80s whatever but at least they were all wearing french cut bodysuits so their legs looked fantastic. stop interrupting the lines!! anyways. pants so the only section of skin showing is thigh to mid calf, especially because they weren't even doing any fun legwork! if they really wanted to keep the full sleeve bodysuits they shout have done them in a fabric with a texture or external embellishments, like a patent/vinyl or sequins/rhinestones. something to catch the stage lights so we can actually see the shape of the limb. but the easiest way to fix it is literally just cut the arms off the bodysuits. stages are lit to show off skin, sometimes the best way to have something be seen is just to have it bare.

i agreed skz cycles through ideas way too fast, they need to just pick a couple and stick them out through the stage instead of just adding more and more different ones throughout. also ok good someone else noticed that there is just...so much changbin. we don't need that much changbin. i know there's other boys in the group let them do something! also im pretty sure theyre not recreating the cat knife meme but actually the promo image from john wick chapter two, which i also could have sworn i saw a deadpool version of as an instagram ad back when movies were happening, but now that im looking for it it doesn't exist so i might be crazy.

im excited for the move stage but im also trepidatious because...its move. i have NO clue what the concept is from the previews so i just hope its weird enough to take it enough out of the taemin context for me to enjoy it.

#kingdom #youre very sweet im glad you like sending asks in!! #realistically im just trying to replace going out to the pub and talking about art with people #this is my virtual pub you are welcome to a have a pint at my table!! #theres some costume talk in this one for anyone who reads the tags first #as you can see do not get me started on the shorts issue because it is one of the few things that gets me irrationally angry #i can ignore it most of the time by willfully not thinking about it #kpop questions #text #kingdom asks

[talltales]

                                    —HEY NOW, HEY NOW, DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER                                     HEY NOW, HEY NOW, WHEN THE WORLD COMES IN                                     THEY COME, THEY COME, TO BUILD A WALL BETWEEN US                                     WE KNOW THEY WON'T WIN                                                            anonymous request!!

NOTICE: violence (murder, mentions of cannibalism), heavy sexual content

               “i just painted my nails.”

blankly, she flicks away the blood trickling down her hand and turns it over to inspect the chipped pink polish peeling off with it. her trigger finger relaxes minutely, but her gun remains aimed at the deathly still men at her feet, staring sightlessly into the cloudless, red sky.

“i didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” the click of the clip being slatted into his own weapon accompanies his droll retort. she glances over her shoulder to find yugyeom leaning against the hood of their car, arms crossed loosely across his chest; dark eyes fixed upon the flow of blood across hot concrete.

before it reaches the tip of her shoes, she sidesteps and moves to rifle through the belongings peeking from their pockets. her gun is slipped into the old leather holster at her hip before she pulls a wallet from the closest man, “i was always that kind of girl. it isn’t my fault you never paid attention.”

she spares her companion a look and then turns back to the worn billfold, tossing the plethora of id cards contained into the summer wind, “looks like he was collecting trophies from his kills.”

“how barbaric.” yugyeom hums, impassive. his nose crinkles, however—offended by the emerging malodor of decay, “they reek. are you ready to go?”

“just a minute.”

the few bills contained within are deposited into her back pocket. discarded identification cards bearing the faces of strangers skitter across the road as she makes work of the other male’s wallet and, for good measure, plucks his half-empty carton of cigarettes from his coat pocket.

“got yours?” he slides off the hood of their old black mustang, slapping a palm against the hot metal before opening the driver side door, “because we need to start making some distance if they’ve got friends.”

“you’re a broken record, you know?”

“i’ll stop repeating myself when you start listening.”

the cool flow of a/c when she gets in is a welcome sensation. there are, after all, few luxuries left in a world that has gone to hell and dragged every survivor with it.

her thumb hovers over the radio dial out of habit, turning it on to catch nothing but muted static.

the radio broadcast had stopped four months ago.

where an endless stream of music and advertisements had once been, there was only white noise; broken only by the occasional snare laid by opportunistic hunters. assuming that there was prey left. at least the ones who would believe the theatric cries for help, transmitting on repeat in the early morning hours.

without the loose guide of societal standards, humanity turned on itself. cannibalized the weak. she hits the off button and releases a heavy breath; sinks into her seat as yugyeom starts the engine. what an ugly place to be—

to be left behind in.

“what is it?” his attention is on the road, intent as he navigates smoothly past the still-warm bodies and the last remnants of their victims, innocent things blowing away in the desert wind, “you’re thinking too much.“

“i know. i’m just wondering how many of those fuckers can possibly be hiding out here. how many people they’ve killed, and for what?” her teeth sink into her lower lip, biting down until the dull ache draws her mind back—to the scent of leather and gunpowder and the droll, knowing look yugyeom gives her, “for useless pieces of plastic? money that can only be spent in camps where they’ll be shot on sight?”

one instinct had survived the dissolution of the world, after all. people knew a wanted man when they saw one.

“you know why.” he hums, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “i shouldn’t have to remind you.”

“humor me.”

the conversation is an old one, repeated for the sake of soothing what remains of her conscience. stubborn as it is, it comes to life in moments like these; when the adrenaline fades away and she is left with blood caked under her nails and the smell of copper clinging to her skin.

“they kill for the thrill of it.” for her sake, yugyeom answers. the words flow easily, as if he’sreciting a memorized poem; an old story told a time too many. “they enjoy it.”

“i enjoy it.” she confesses, not for the first time. she stretches as the seat allows, arching her back as her fingertips brush the roof; the telltale click of her spine realigning itself brings a fleeting sense of relief. she speaks to the spotted, hazy glass of the sunroof, “i enjoy hunting them and putting them down.”

the blood-red sky is cloudless; speckled only with the brightest starlight breaking through the atmosphere.

“so do i,” he says, and the matter is settled.

again.

—

“so wound up,” she breathes, grazing the curve of his jaw with slow, wet kisses; deft fingers threading through his hair, “i wanted to help,” rolling her hips in a hard grind, she almost chuckles at the way he twitches inside her; the way every muscle in his body seems to tense simultaneously as she darts her tongue out to taste the sweat beading above his collarbone, “but i guess i’m not—should i stop?”

her head spins, body seared by the window beneath her palm and the pressure of the steering wheel digging into the dip of her spine. but it is the ebb and flow of his rhythm that renders her breathless; makes her feel like she’s suffocating the most exquisite way.

she muffles her cries against his throat and centers her attention on the wild skipping of his pulse under her tongue.

yugyeom’s jaw tightens and the next sound that escapes is half-protest, half-groan. she feels the weight of him, pressing into her hips from contrasting directions; his thumbs scoring marks against her skin—his hips canting up to meet hers, languid and deep.

she catches his words after a delayed moment in which her mind stutters to a stop when he brushes a spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“don’t you fucking dare.” it’s quiet, so very quiet, but something in her relishes at the loss of his composure, the rare curse emerging in a growl that tightens the coil inside her. in pursuit of more, she forces herself to stop with him buried as deep as their bodies allow; clenches around him until she can see something in him snap.

it makes it all that much sweeter when he comes apart.

he is, in these moments, the only beautiful sight left in this wretched world.

—

she wears his bruises like trophies, sometimes, lounging in the backseat with her legs folded beneath her and a brush running through her hair.

he watches through the rear-view mirror, as he always does, when she shifts—clad only in a pair of practical briefs and bra. the impression of his hands frame her hips and she takes pleasure in watching his eyes wander before he realizes what he’s doing. because kim yugyeom is always composed, always in control.

except when he isn’t.

and their dalliances are less about attraction than they are about release. she swears on that.

there is a softness to his touch when he isn’t paying attention—in the midnight hours, when their only light is the blue-tinge of headlights cutting through the dark; in the moments before he cuts the engine and his hand slides from the gear-shift to grip hers. “we’re keeping this quick,” he mutters, in a way that is more order than she cares for.

she’s out of the car before he can say anything else, “if they don’t drag it out.”

her sidearm is grasped firmly with her finger hovering over the trigger, her only guide the faint flickering of a campfire in the distance—

the stench of unwashed bodies and smoke.

every step is muffled beneath the howling of the wind and the hush of sand swirling over the earth. hunting is a natural instinct, but stealth is an acquired skill. it is her contribution in their little arrangement, because as graceful as yugyeom is he is impossible to miss.

he follows behind her, well-worn boots crushing the few sprigs of grass that have survived the onslaught of an unforgiving sun. even at this hour, the edge of it lingers on the horizon; an angry crimson-gold.

“you should’ve heard her scream,” comes the distant echoes of laughter from the makeshift camp ahead, beyond the shadow cast by the tents circling the site. they are lit from within by the fire on the other side, revealing silhouettes of figures perched upon folding chairs and the prone half-body beside the fire, “i’d have kept her alive just to hear it again, but a man’s gotta have his dinner.”

it’s an old sight, but it turns her stomach just the same.

her finger itches over the trigger, and she doesn’t have to look back to feel the intent radiating from the man behind her.

two, she holds up the signal and raises her gun while sidestepping into the gap beneath the twin tents. it takes effort to ignore the scavenged woman lying in the dirt; the silver and gold ring on her left hand gleaming in the firelight. someone’s wife.

instead she steels her voice and, assured that yugyeom has his gun trained on the other man, disengages the safety. “on the ground,” it comes out with a hiss; air flowing between teeth gritted so hard she feels it in her jaw.

the sight of the duo scrambling to find her in the darkness is only mildly satisfying. no, the true pleasure only comes when yugyeom fires a warning shot that grazes his target’s cheek, and abject fear takes hold.

“who’s there?” her target. his face is buried in the dirt; amorphous cooked meat beside his head. it takes effort to hold her fire until her boot slams into his spine and the barrel of her gun finds its way into his hair; digs into his scalp.

“you don’t need to concern yourself with that. i’ve got a question for you.”

on the other side of the fire, yugyeom does much the same—nose wrinkling as the man beneath him squirms under his knee; whines incoherently about the gash in his cheek.

“what do you want?”

“you got any buddies out here?” she asks, watching his eyes flicker about wildly, as if searching for an escape. or reinforcements, as the case may be. she secretly hopes for the latter.

“it’s just us,” the man whispers, and she pulls the trigger.

an answering shot rings through the night, and she looks up to see yugyeom wiping blood from his forehead before he walks to the parked pickup truck nearby. he preforms a perfunctory search, pulling a marked map from the glove compartment and a few bills that disappear into the pockets of his jeans.

“quick enough for you?” she questions before she can stop herself, trailing after him with a contemplative look at the container sitting next to the rear tire.

he nods, placid as ever, though she can see the spark of something in his eyes—the promise of another night spent chasing a different sort of satisfaction.

this is, after all, empty work on the best of days.

“the map—“

“for later. to find any stragglers.” she watches as he glances back at the campsite; stares at the blood splattered everywhere. it’s the clenching of his jaw that makes her act upon the persistent urge to act—to reach for the gas container and unscrew the cap.

without a word, she tips it and watches the crystalline liquid soak the ground at her feet. she doesn’t stop until the canister is empty and the site is soaked in the smell of gasoline; each body drenched with it.

he doesn’t stop her.

the only move he makes is toward her, to stand at her side as she fishes a matchbook from her back pocket and strikes it; the flame dances at her fingertip for a moment before she drops it—watches the campfire swell within minutes to a blaze that lights the night sky in shades of gold.

the heat is searing—makes her feel as if she’s burning alive, but for the first time she feels satisfaction with this ugly thing they do.

purification by fire.

only the slide of his fingertips over the back of her hand draws her back; the hesitant way that he laces their fingers together and tugs her back toward the car waiting in the distance. she squeezes, and feels the heaviness in her chest lighten when he returns the gesture.

it has practical purpose; less about affection than it is about comfort.

she swears on that.

“where to next?” for lack of anything better to say, she inquires into the open air, taking her first breath of fresh air.

yugyeom seems to hesitate, and she watches from the corner of her eye as he turns the question over in his mind before he speaks. always thoughtful, always choosing his words carefully.

“i think we’re overdue for a trip home.”

#request #member + prompt #yugyeom fanfic #got7 fanfic

[franeridart]

what program/brushes do you use for your art? it's so damn pretty

Easy Paint tool SAI and the default pen/brush/marker tools, mostly! and thank you!!! ;^;

Anon said:When I was a kid I would've had a crush on Akane

HECK that’s such a compliment!! Thank you!!!

Anon said:Couldn't Akane technically Control/move Kiri's hair since it's dyed? I mean it's like his hair is stained meaning it's not alive! so Akane finally warms up to him and messes with him or plays with his hair?

She can and she did! I drew her doing just that both in the first and in the fourth thing I posted about her! :D

Anon said:okay i don't know if this is coming through but i have just looked through your entire blog(can only go 4 years back) and let me just say you are wonderful, I absoluty LOVE how you paint/draw like its sooo pretty??? like dnjwcfehbi i cant describe it, (part 1) || like you are wonderful, I absolutely LOVE how you paint/draw like it's so pretty??? like dnjwcfehbi I can't describe it like it's absolutely Fabulous, Stunning, Amazing, Lovely and it looks so smoooooth like what????how??But anyways love your art and love you keep being Amazing! (part 2)

AH GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! This is such a sweet ask to get TT^TT (and you can only go 4 years back because the blog is 4 years old! Can’t believe you actually went through it all!!)

Anon said:I really love your art style and your comics are so cute and I love how you draw older Bakugou and Kirishima!! It’s all so wonderful! Thank you for sharing it with everyone!

Oh man thank you!! ;;; I’m so happy yo know you like them!!!!!! TTOTT

Anon said:the level of FLUFF and KOOKIENESS and SOFT and MARSHMALLOW and MY HEART CAN'T TOOK THIS IS is so much I could die.

PLEASE DON’T DIE I LOVE YOU !!!!! 

Anon said:I love everything about Akane's au. Her, her interactions with Bakugou, how she dislikes Kirishima but is beginning to warm up to him, the boys' aged-up designs. Everything. It's all amazing. Thank you for bringing it into my life!

Nggghhhhhhhh no anon thank you for liking her!!!!

Anon said:Currently procrastinating on my essay to go through your blog because it de-stresses me and I love your art so much like seriously h e l p

GAH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! /////

Anon said:There's something I'm not understand in your AU children kiribaku. She adopted by bakugo or she is a kid bakugou have with someone. ( I'm really really sorry for my English )

Adopted!

Anon said:Your comics are so cute and funny! I'm loving the story with Akane, the last update was great! I really like the way you draw the characters, like your style is so nice. Thanks for making my day better with your art!

G o d thank you So Much!!!!!!

Anon said:Akane is adorable, and I absolutely love the comics that you upload of her, but also on top of that your mohawk Bakugo has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and brought me back from the dead at LEAST twice.

I’M REAL GLAD TO HEAR THAT because mohawk Bakugou owns my whole soul and it’s nice to know I’m not alone in that hahaha

Anon said:What are some ways Akane messes with Kiri (or used to) when he wears red clothes? Does she often do that? Does she do it when Baku's not home, or when he is so that she can hammer in just how much she dislikes Kiri? Has she ever done anything major that caused her to be really reprimanded by Baku, but being the best person in the world Kiri did not get angry?

She really only ever gets pissy (or used to! they’re starting to get along better !!!) at Kiri when she feels jealous for whatever reason, and that doesn’t happen as often as it seems through my doodles, so it’s not like she’s always antagonistic towards him! Mostly she just ignores him, so no, it doesn’t happen often at all! And she’s never gone further than messing his hair up or tugging a bit at his clothes, since she doesn’t have the strength to move Kiri all that much haha the only reason she managed to have him fall the first time was because he was balancing already, but generally Kiri weighs way too much for her to move him around or pull at the red stuff he’s wearing enough for him to notice it all that much 

anyway, Baku never reprimended her for it - not more than he did in the first comic I posted with them, at least, specifically because the damage she can make is so minor that Kiri and Baku barely consider it something to tell her off for... if she were ever to act that way towards someone she might actually hurt (say, a kid her own age) then Baku might reprimend her more seriously, but as long as she’s just tugging at Kiri’s clothes they don’t see it as anything worth fighting her over :D

Anon said:Just sent an ask, so forgive me for this one, but I'd love to get this straight: in the Akane AU Kiri and Baku graduated and share an apartment, are madly into each other, but they neither has made a move on the other yet? Perhaps that should be sad, but it's 100% adorable.

I know I shouldn’t say this as I made the au myself, but I find the arrangement pretty dang adorable too haha they act like a married couple anyway, so it’s like... pining while the rest of the world already considers them an item? and the pining is mostly about stuff like ahhhh I wanna tell him I love him or ahhhhhh god I wanna kiss him, but then they’ll fall asleep on the couch together or hold hands just for the hell of it or cook for each other or make plans that always involve each other and all in all act as each other’s partner, so it’s mostly just like *Kaminari voice* “God these oblivious idiots” hahaha

Anon said:That latest Akane comic melted my heart like you often do. Though for a moment, I expected Eijirou to say "I don't want Katsuki to be my dad, I want him to be my daddy" XD Though that would not sound like him. Props for his adorable interactions with Scarlet Death Queen Witch.

Anon you don’t get it that’s exactly why I had him say “be his son” instead of “be my dad” LMAO it was like, a conscious wording decision hahaha thank you so much for liking my girl, btw!!!

Anon said:Fran! I was just wondering if you would be willing to post your Demon Kiri and Angel Baku art on Redbubble? I'd love to buy a print of it!! Totally understand if not. Also your newer Akane comics are killing me, they're so damn cute!! So yeah love you and your beautiful art! Hope you have an awesome year!!

I CAN TRY I think I did try last time I updated my rb? But the format of the pic made it hard to use it for a lot of things so I gave up??? I can try again tho!!! Thank you for being interested in buying it!!! And thank you for liking Akane too!!!!!

Anon said:is katsuki and kirishima not together in the adopted child comics or is there gonna be a plot to them getting together? 👀

I’m not really writing anything cohesive for it so I wouldn’t call it a plot point, but yeh they still aren’t together! And I wanna have them get to the point in which they are together!!! :D

Anon said:I'm gonna die why do you do this with your adorable art my god

PLEASE!!!!! DON’T DIE!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Your Akane + KiriBaku comics are adorable and I love the relationships that exist between them. I can't wait to see more of them!

Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!! I hope I won’t disappoint!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:I love your art so much!! Especially the little Akane au (so freaking cute!!!!). Random question: if you’ve ever seen Lucifer, who do you think would fit his character? Have an awesome day!

I haven’t seen it, sorry :((( but thank you for liking my girl!!!!!!

Anon said:I apologize if this has already been thought of but i feel as though when akane gets older and if she decides to be a hero, part of her costume could include useful red objects mayhaps?? Such as a shield or daggers or handcuffs so if there’s a lack of red around her she isn’t in a complete ditch. But i love your work sm ahhh💕💕

Yes!!! That’s the plan!!!!! I don’t think I’ll ever draw a teen version of her character but I MIGHT mention this idea in the current timeline, I like the idea so much TT^TT

Anon said:Hey there, I am absolutely obsessed with Akane like I love her so much wow but anyways I was wondering if you've ever drawn tododeku/ will in the future?

Thank you!!!! And I have drawn them in the past (under my tododeku tag!) and I might draw them again in the future, though currently I’m in a pretty big izu//ocha mood so I dunno when that will happen!

Anon said:I love your art so much like??? Help???

THANK YOU TTATT

Anon said:Y'know it could be gayer c'mon

This ask has been in my inbox for 17 days and I still don’t know what it means ??? but I laughed a lot when I got it so thank you anon and yes, definitely, everything could always be gayer that’s just how the world goes

Anon said:I swear you drew an older version of the krbk kids and it wasn't a fever dream I'm currently frantically searching through your blog rn help

I DID that post is CURSED anon, you can look it up through any of the tags I used to tag it and it won’t show up it won’t and I don’t know why!! I always lose it exactly because of this reason I have zero idea why it does this but??? okay I guess???????????

anyway if you still want it it’s here

Anon said:If Akane can control red things, does she low-key also have control over things that are pink and orange depending on how reddish in hue they are? I love her btw. Such a smol bean who could probably kick my ass!

What a good question you got there!! She has control over everything that has a color that falls in the red wavelength of the visible spectrum - that does include certain tones of pink and certain tones of orange, but there’s a point where orange gets too yellow or pink gets too white that her powers stop working. As long as the red in the color is more than any other hue, though, her powers work! 

Anon said: im just imagining if baku takes akane with him when he is going to work and is there with kiri and akane help kiri with his hair bc she is suffering when he tries to style it himself

Once they start getting along better Akane and Kiri actually start helping each other with their hair! They’re both very particular about it so they understand each other as far as that topic goes haha

Anon said:Hi I just wanted to say I’m really enjoying what you are doing in your latest drawing. The contrast with the thick sketchy lines and the thinner crisp ones and the spaces that have no defined line! It’s cool to see you experiment with your line work while staying true to your natural style! Sorry if this came off weird but I love seeing talented artists try pushing the boundaries of their style it’s really visually/conceptually interesting! :)

AH MAN thank you so much I’m so happy to know you like that tool TT^TT it’s really super comfy to use, so it’s nice to know someone finds it visually appealing too!!! thank you!!!!!

Anon said:Is there any chance you could make a masterpost of the aus you do? It's a lot to scroll down to the beginning of a concept u have sometimes and it can be unclear when they start

They all have a tag they’re under, tho? If I’ve made more than one post about them! I have so many AUs going around that making a masterpost with all of them is a bit... mostly so since I don’t know for how many I’ll actually go back on! But if the tags don’t really work for you (generally the link is gonna look like https://franeridart.tumblr.com/tagged/[here goes the tag]/chrono to have it in chronological order) then I can try? I can’t promise I’ll find a comfortable way to do this, tho orz sorry!

Anon said:This might be an odd ask but does Akane like Jirou? I feel like they would get along really well. And how about her grandma Mitsuki? Since she takes after Katsu who takes after her, they could make an adorably angry trio

She hasn’t spent much time with Jirou yet so right now she’s mostly meh about her (though right now she only actually likes Bakugou, and she’s warming up to Kiri, but that’s about it). She doesn’t mind Mitsuki, but she hasn’t spent too long with her either! She yells a bit too much at her dad tho, which Akane isn’t particularly fond of (protective bean that she is, she doesn’t get that that’s just their way of communicating just yet), so out of her grandparents she prefers Masaru, after all~

#fran answers #a bunch of asks i had forgotten about after closing the inbox!!! #jesus im a disaster #i was sure i had a couple asks more in here but i can't find them so...??? #ah well #either way i'm sorry these took so long my brain is seriously all over the place lately #go d s #anonymous

[seriestrash]

The List - Chapter Twelve

- 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 

Summary: It’s summer vacation and TJ and Cyrus fill their days checking things of Cyrus’ list.

Read on AO3

Chapter Twelve: 101

Word Count: 5471

A few days pass after Cyrus’ fight with TJ and it’s been just shy of a week since they went to the carnival. Although Cyrus’ conversation with his mother made him feel better about himself, he felt absolutely awful about how things were between him and TJ. The two have had zero contact with each other since TJ stormed out of Cyrus’ room in a huff. 

Cyrus convinced himself that his logic to push TJ away made sense but what he couldn’t do was make himself feel any better about it. Leslie’s comment about TJ not hating Cyrus but rather being hurt by Cyrus’ distant behaviour is what weighed on his mind most. Cyrus knows how much TJ cares about what people think of him, even if TJ spent a lot of time convincing Cyrus that he should just be himself instead of worrying about everyone else's opinion. So Cyrus knew that it wouldn’t have felt good for TJ to hear Cyrus practically call him annoying. Cyrus might not believe that TJ could ever like him back romantically but he did know that their friendship was special and he believed that if he was upset by their separation, TJ would be too and being the cause of that pain made Cyrus feel tremendously guilty. 

Also to add to Cyrus’ guilt pile he had unintentionally confirmed Marty’s concerns about the rest of the Good Hair Crew returning. As soon as Cyrus’ other friends came home he did pull away from the friendship group that blossomed over the summer.

It’s a Friday morning and Buffy and Cyrus lay on the floor of his father’s office. The reasoning behind this is that it’s an extremely hot day and the air-conditioning is best in the small room. The two lay on their backs with their heads beside each other but with their bodies in opposite directions. 

“I wonder what Jonah and Andi are doing.” Buffy says as she stares at the ceiling. 

“Jonah is probably listing all the things he’s clued into since checking into reality.” Cyrus jokes lightly and there was no malicious intent behind the comment. 

Buffy lets out a soft chuckle and the room falls quiet again before she cautiously asks, “So are we going to talk about TJ yet?” 

Cyrus groans and a frown settles on his face. “We're supposed to be avoiding our problems remember?” 

Buffy sits up and crosses her legs and Cyrus does the same after feeling like he has to. “I love you, Cyrus,” Buffy says with a kind smile as she finds her best friends gaze, “And I hate seeing you so miserable.” 

“I’ll get less miserable..” Cyrus says unconvincingly. 

“I still don’t understand why you cant even be friends with TJ anymore?” Buffy knits her brows together. “You were friends with Jonah when you had a crush on him.” 

“I really like, TJ.” Cyrus says and a sad expression falls upon his face. "I don't think my feelings for him are going to go away or change like they did with Jonah. How can I keep being TJ’s friend and keep that secret from him?” 

Buffy frowns at how Cyrus describes his feelings like he’s being immoral or perverted for simply having a crush on a boy. 

“People have crushes on their friends all the time, Cyrus,” Buffy reaches forward and places her hand on Cyrus’ shoulder, “You’re not doing anything wrong for developing feelings for TJ.” 

“I just wish I could go back to being oblivious about my feelings.” Cyrus sighs.

Buffy takes a moment to think through what she was about to ask next, she nods as if she had silently agreed with herself about the wording. “Do you not want to be TJ’s friend because you’re worried that won't be enough for you this time?”

Cyrus just offers up a weak shrug but his facial expression was confirmation enough for Buffy. 

“You need to talk to, TJ.” Buffy gently insists. 

“I can’t.” Cyrus shakes his head. 

“Do you remember when I asked you to choose between me and TJ?” Buffy questions and Cyrus nods. “And even though you picked me I was still angry with you. Do you know why?”

“Because even though I said I picked you, you didn’t believe I would stop hanging out with TJ.” Cyrus had talked about this with Buffy whilst they were in the midst of the fight so he knew for a fact that was her reasoning. 

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Buffy says as she holds Cyrus’ gaze. “Because that’s not you. Cyrus Goodman does not walk away from a friend. I did not understand your friendship then and I can’t say I fully understand it now but I see that it’s important to both of you. I can’t tell you to put your feelings out there especially while I’m sitting on my own but I think you should call TJ, get him to meet you somewhere so you can talk.” 

“He’s at work.” Cyrus says as he was very familiar with TJ’s schedule. “Every second Friday.” 

“Leave him a message asking to meet you afterwards.” Buffy encourages. “You can use my phone.”

Cyrus takes a deep breath and decides that Buffy was right. Even if he did feel wrong for keeping his feelings hidden from TJ, Cyrus couldn’t help but want to be selfish in this scenario. Cyrus missed TJ and he certainly would never be able to live with the idea that TJ could hate him as a result of his distant behaviour. 

Cyrus makes the call and as expected it goes straight to voicemail. “It’s TJ, I’m not here or I’m ignoring your call.. Leave me a message and I might get back to you.” Cyrus listens to the voicemail message that used to make him laugh but now it just made his stomach churn with nerves. There was a beep to signal it was time to leave a message, Buffy is quietly watching and gives Cyrus an encouraging nod.

“Hey, TJ, it’s me, Cyrus..” He begins nervously, “I’m using Buffy’s phone because mine is in the ocean somewhere..” Cyrus laughs anxiously as he wasn’t sure where this was going, “Anyway, I know you’re at work but I wanted to talk. If you can, meet me at the park after your shift.. Okay, bye..” 

Cyrus hangs up the phone and hands it back to Buffy. 

“Was that so hard?” Buffy questions. 

“That was excruciating.” Cyrus frowns. “Can we go back ignoring the issue at hand before I have to go to the park?” 

“I can’t,” Buffy says as she stands up from the floor, “I actually have to go.” 

“Where?” Cyrus questions. 

“If you must know, Marty asked me to meet up with him.” Buffy says sheepishly and Cyrus’ smile grows. He jumps to his feet excitedly. “It’s no big deal!” 

Cyrus knew it was a very big deal. The both so obviously liked each other. At least one of them might get a happy outcome from this all.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were abandoning the avoidance ship like Andi?” Cyrus asks. 

“I thought it was important you decided to work things out with TJ on your own.” Buffy explains, “I didn’t want you to speak to him just because I was speaking to Marty and Andi was speaking to Jonah.” 

“You still convinced me to see, TJ.” Cyrus highlights. 

“That’s called being a friend,” Buffy coaxes her head, “And you wouldn’t have called him unless you wanted to.” 

"You’re right.” Cyrus mumbles. 

“Aren’t I always?” Buffy grins, they really were her two favourite words. 

-

Cyrus has to wait two hours after Buffy left his house for TJ’s shift to be over. So that meant he had two hours to obsess over the impending conversation. Cyrus wasn’t sure how he was going to explain away being weird without telling the truth but he hoped his overall quirkiness that he’s known for would be excuse enough for them to move past the fight. 

Cyrus was sitting in his room trying get his mind off things. He’s cleaning up when he happens upon the crumpled piece of paper that is the list. Cyrus hadn't realised that he was the one that ended up with it after the carnival. Cyrus takes the sheet and sits at the edge of his bed as he looks over it. Cyrus glances at the first and only incomplete task on the list, the pier jump. He then looks at all the things crossed off under it and thinks back to the memories of how he achieved them. Cyrus admires the little scribbles and drawings that were there from when TJ wrote the list down or from when someone added it over the summer. 

Cyrus turns the piece of paper over and looks at the back. He looks at the number 100. and the blank space beside it, the space that’s supposed to be TJ’s final addition. Cyrus folds the sheet of paper back up and sticks it in his back pocket.

Since there was no way Cyrus could back out of it now he makes his way to the park. Cyrus gets there ten minutes before TJ’s shift would end and he knew it would take TJ just over ten minutes to walk to the park. Cyrus sits on a park bench in the shade and waits, he didn’t have working phone so he had no idea if TJ had gotten back to him or not. Cyrus also had no idea if TJ would even show up after Cyrus was mean to him the way he was. 

Two hours later Cyrus is still sitting alone at the park. By now it’s getting close to dinner time and the park is practically empty. Cyrus makes his way over to the vacant swings and quietly curses at himself for royally screwing things up with TJ. 

Cyrus solemnly swings for a few minutes before deciding to leave. TJ clearly wasn’t showing up and in Cyrus’ mind that meant he was probably never going to forgive him so why put himself through anymore agonising silence on the swings?

Just as Cyrus gets off the swing he hears his name called. It’s, TJ and he sounded out of breath.

“TJ, you came?” Cyrus smiles as the taller boy approaches in his work uniform. 

“Work asked me to stay back till close, I didn’t hear your voicemail until I finished.” TJ quickly gets control of his breathing. “I couldn’t call you back obviously, so I thought I’d quickly come by here on the off chance you were still waiting.” 

Suddenly Cyrus felt lame for waiting around so long. There’s a drop in conversation, both boys appeared awkward which was no surprise considering how they left things last. Finally TJ speaks up, “So you wanted to talk?” 

Cyrus nods and motions to the swings like they would make him brave enough to actually form a coherent sentence. TJ sits first, Cyrus follows but sits on his swing facing the opposite direction to TJ. The two stay stationary and let another moment of silence pass. Finally TJ forces out a deflated laugh, “Talking usually involves words..” 

“As soon as I think of some to use, I’ll let you know.” Cyrus frowns.

“How about we start with why we had some stupid dramatic fight when we had a really good summer up until now?” TJ suggests. 

“I didn’t really mean it when I said I thought we should hang out with other people.” Cyrus turns his head sideways to look at TJ.

“Then why did you say it?” TJ meets his gaze.

“I don't think I can answer that.” Cyrus frowns. 

TJ appears a little frustrated, “Why ask me to come here if you didn’t really want to talk?” 

“I wanted to get over our fight. I don’t want to stop being friends.” Cyrus states firmly. 

“But you also don't want to tell me what I did wrong?” TJ points a look at Cyrus.

“You haven't done anything wrong.” Cyrus insists. “I have. I just can’t talk about it.” 

“That’s a really sucky apology.” TJ furrows his brows, “If that’s even what this is.” 

“It is.” Cyrus sighs, “Can you accept that I’m really sorry and want to be friends even though I have zero explanation that I can give you?”

TJ is silent as he holds Cyrus’ gaze, then he wears a small smile and nods, “Okay.” 

“Wow, that was a lot easier than I thought it would be.” Cyrus mumbles. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine.” TJ shrugs, “I would like if you did but I won't force you.” 

“And you forgive me just like that?” Cyrus questions. 

“We had some stupid little fight,” TJ laughs softly, “You might not have meant what you said but there is some truth behind it. We have spent the entire summer together, we were bound to get restless eventually.” 

“I’ve spent the past week making this fight sound a lot more dramatic in my head.” Cyrus furrows his brows and TJ can’t help but laugh. 

“I also didn’t mean it when I called the list stupid.” TJ says genuinely, “My feelings were hurt because I felt like you were ditching me.” 

“So you haven't done the pier jump with Walker and Marty?” Cyrus questions. 

“No way, not without you.” TJ shakes his head. “Have you?” 

“No way.” Cyrus laughs. 

“Then how did your cellphone end up in the ocean?” TJ wonders. 

“I can’t really explain that either.” Cyrus frowns. 

TJ lets out a loud exhale, “I know I said I was okay that you didn’t want to talk about it but having a conversation is a lot easier when the other person contributes.” 

“I’m sorry.” Cyrus rests his head against the chain of the swing. 

“It’s okay,” TJ half smiles, “But if I didn’t do anything, has something else happened?” 

Cyrus could feel himself sweating, he felt like there was no avoiding this conversation. TJ might be able to move past it as easily as he did but there would definitely be some confusion and lingering questions. 

“Cy?” TJ leans over and grabs the chain of Cyrus’ swing and tugs it gently to get his attention as Cyrus was non responsive to his previous question. When TJ lets go of Cyrus’ swing it sends them both gently swaying sidewards. 

Cyrus looks at TJ’s expression, it was soft and curious and overall concerned about whatever had Cyrus so stressed out. Again Cyrus had the urge to tell TJ about his confusing web of feelings, it was something he had thought about a little over the summer before realising his feelings were also linked to TJ and not boys in general. 

“Can I ask you something?” Cyrus doesn’t answer TJ’s question although his own question was leading up to doing that. 

“Sure.” TJ nods and he seemed to just accept that it appeared as if Cyrus was still avoiding what was really on his mind. 

“After Amber’s party you seemed off..” Cyrus opens and TJ grows visibly nervous. 

“I was sick.” TJ says unconvincingly. 

“Sure.” Cyrus pretends like he believes him. “I was just wondering if you maybe overheard something me and Iris were talking about?” 

This seems to confuse the older boy and therefore confirm for Cyrus that TJ didn’t hear what they were discussing. 

“I was on the other side of the room. Amber made sure of that.” TJ gives Cyrus a quizzical look. “Why?” 

Because I wanted to know if you already freaked out about me being gay or if you could be as understanding as I thought you would be.. Cyrus thinks but what he says is, “Iris and I were talking about a sensitive matter and I thought you might have overheard and misinterpreted..” Even though she was right, Cyrus thinks to himself. “And that was why you were a little distant after the party?” 

“I didn’t hear your conversation.” TJ says honestly, “That weirdness had everything to do with me and not you.” 

“So something was bothering you?” Cyrus questions. 

“I can’t talk about it.” TJ uses Cyrus’ own tactics against him. 

“Fair enough.” Cyrus nods with a faint laugh. “Up until a couple weeks ago I happened to think we were very good at the whole talking thing.” Cyrus jokes lightly even though it wasn’t a joke at all.

“You mean tricking me into getting all sappy about my feelings?” TJ laughs.

“I trust you, TJ.” Cyrus says and it feels out of place but it makes the smile on TJ’s face creep wider. 

“I trust you, too.” TJ nods slightly. 

Cyrus really did trust TJ, it was exactly one of the reasons why Cyrus liked him so much. TJ had always made a point to assure Cyrus that being himself was more than enough but more importantly Cyrus actually believed TJ and as a result he thought more positively about himself. That’s why in the moment, under TJ’s kind and understanding stare, Cyrus decides to open up. 

“I’ve been lying to you about something.” Cyrus takes a deep breath. Surprise crosses TJ’s face but he doesn’t interrupt. “The pier jump is actually the thing I’m second most afraid of on the list...” 

TJ’s already furrowed brows deepen, “But that’s the only thing left on the list other than one blank?” 

“When I first sent you the list, back when you helped me with the somersault, there was one thing on it that I removed before giving it to you.” Cyrus admits. 

“Really?” TJ coaxes his head, “Why did you delete it?” 

“At the time I didn’t feel comfortable sharing it..” Cyrus says, “But I think I am now.” 

“You can tell me anything.” TJ nods encouragingly. 

Cyrus loosens his grip on the metal chains of the swings as his palms were growing sweatier from holding onto them so tightly due to his nerves. 

“So as you know I went out with Iris last year,” Cyrus explains and TJ nods, “We were boyfriend and girlfriend even though we only went on two and a half dates... She was my first - and second -  kiss..” 

“Okay?” TJ was unsure where this was going and he wasn’t certain he’d enjoy listening to it but for Cyrus’ sake he was willing to push his own feelings aside. 

“In a way that’s not as awful as it sounds, kissing Iris made me acknowledge something I had been ignoring for a while..” Cyrus was getting closer to the truth but it wasn’t getting any easier for him. “As much as I liked Iris I didn’t like her that way...”

“Okay...” TJ repeats with a nod and he waits for Cyrus to continue. 

“Usually people work out what I’m talking about before I have to say it myself.” Cyrus frowns. 

“If you have something to say you should be the one to say it.” TJ says in a not at all pushy way. 

Cyrus nods because TJ was right. Cyrus did have to be the one to say it, he had to learn to own his feelings and accept himself always and not just after the people he’s talking to have shown their understanding first. 

Cyrus takes a deep breath and he watches TJ’s face as he says, “I didn’t like Iris that way because she’s a girl.”

TJ stares blankly for a second, it wasn’t that he had misunderstood what Cyrus said it’s that he was in complete shock and not at all sure how to process. Cyrus grew anxious about TJ’s non reaction, “Say something please?” 

TJ shakes his head with a tight blink as he tries to form a sentence, “How does that tie into the missing item on the list?”

Shock, that was a reaction Cyrus could live with so, although still nervous he felt comfortable enough to continue, “At the time I didn’t fully understand why I didn’t like Iris that way. I just knew that as far as first- and second-” Cyrus scrunches up his face, “kisses go it didn’t feel right... So when I was entertaining the idea that I might be gay I decided that I had to kiss a boy so I could know for sure... So I wrote that on the list.”

“Okay.” TJ manages to force the word out. 

“Okay.” Cyrus repeats nervously. “It’s an unimportant task now. I’m not asking for your help with it or anything,” Cyrus anxiously rambles and the comment made TJ laugh nervously too. “I worked it all out for the most part... I just wanted to get that off my chest.” 

“So you’re, gay?” TJ asks in disbelief. 

“Yep.” Cyrus pops the P as he had nothing else to offer. 

TJ nods longer than necessary as his thoughts were racing. TJ picks up his gaze and looks at Cyrus, his creased forehead decorated with tiny beads of sweat from his nerves. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cyrus grows nervous under TJ’s intent stare. It wasn’t like he was being judged for opening up but Cyrus couldn’t work out what was happening in TJ’s head right now. 

“Have you ever thought something was so impossible that it would never happen and then something changes and it makes you think that maybe it’s not as impossible as you originally thought?” TJ says and his intent gaze doesnt waver for a second. 

“What are you saying?” Cyrus’ heart picks up and an impossible thought pops into Cyrus’ mind. 

TJ takes a moment to battle with himself about whether he was really going to say this or not but after a deep breath he decides to take the leap. “I was weird after Amber’s party because I was jealous...” 

“Of what?” Cyrus doesn’t break his stare with TJ. His impossible thought was feeling more possible, although, Cyrus couldn’t let himself get his hopes up that way. 

“I was jealous because you were talking to your ex-girlfriend.” TJ says almost uncomfortably. 

Now Cyrus was the one staring blankly as he tried to process the thoughts all bouncing around in his mind at once.

“I was jealous because I like you, Cyrus.” TJ still looks at Cyrus whose gaze was now staring off in the direction his swing faced. 

“And when you say you like me, you mean you like me?” Cyrus’ voice wavers. 

“Yep.” TJ pops the P this time in the same cute and nervous manner Cyrus had.  “That’s why I got a little defensive after the carnival because I thought I might have done something to raise your suspicions and I was worried that was why you were pushing me away.” 

“No.” Cyrus turns to him with a frown. “That’s not at all what happened. It’s the opposite really.” Cyrus says, “I got weird after the fireworks because I worked out that I like you, like really like you.” 

“You do?” A sweet and hopeful expression crosses TJ’s face. “You’re not just saying that because I said I liked you first?” 

“TJ,” Cyrus coaxes his head, his frown settles because TJ could think that. 

“I just never imagined you could like me that way.” TJ says. “I mean, you had dated a girl in high school, I didn’t think my chances were good.” 

“Would you have told me if I didn't tell you about being gay?” Cyrus questions. 

“I can’t say for sure,” TJ shrugs, “But honestly, probably not.. I had my super lame feel sorry for myself week after Amber’s party and then Marty gave me a reality check. I was just going to get over it and go back to being friends.” 

“Marty?” Cyrus sports a quizzical look. “You told Marty?” 

“He kind of guessed it himself after the party.” TJ explains. 

“That explains why he was being so weird.” It clicks in Cyrus’ brain. 

TJ looks mortified by that. “I also think Amber worked it out when we were leaving.” 

“Again, that explains her interest in why we haven't been hanging out as much.” Cyrus can’t believe he had been so oblivious. “Full disclosure, Andi, Buffy and Jonah all know I like you.” Cyrus says, “Apparently I was the last one to know.” 

“Walker knows I like you too,” TJ announces, “Well I don't think he officially knows but back when we were rollerskating, you went to the bathroom and he asked me how long we had been dating. I did not react as casually dismissive as I hoped. He definitely suspects..” 

“Iris asked me if I had a crush on you at the party.” Cyrus shares. “I didn’t think I did but I was wrong.” 

“So you didn’t like me until the carnival?” TJ questions and he felt dorky for it. 

“That was just when I realised, I’m not sure when I actually started liking you, I just knew that I did.” Cyrus explains, “Even though I freaked out and tried to convince myself I didn’t.” 

“You freaked out?” 

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” Cyrus frowns. “So Amber’s party, that’s when you knew?” 

TJ shies away. “I might have known before then.” 

“When?” Cyrus’ smile creeps wider and he still couldn’t believe they were having conversation like this. “Please?” Cyrus asks with a kindness in his voice. 

“You know how we ‘tricked’ Buffy into playing the one on one match?” TJ asks. 

“Yes.” Cyrus laughs nervously as he recalled the plan that resulted in a spontaneous rap quite well. 

“After she forgave me I was so happy because I genuinely didn’t want her to hate me but I also realised I was happy because it meant that you and I could hang out more.” 

“So before summer even started?” Cyrus is surprised. 

“Yes...” TJ is still shy about it. 

“You liked me this whole time?” Cyrus is in disbelief. 

“Why do you think I was so keen to lock you into hanging out all summer?” TJ feels super dorky at this point but he didn’t feel judged and that’s what really mattered. 

“TJ Kippen has a crush on me.” Cyrus says out loud with a crinkled nose. 

“Shut up.” TJ huffs. “Stop tricking me into talking about my feelings.” 

TJ childishly pulls at Cyrus’ swing chain and they both buckle sideways from the sudden jerk. Cyrus’ laugh is so soft and fluffy as he grips onto TJ’s swing chain to try and steady himself. Their laughs tangle together until they tapper off slowly. The two still had one hand gripping onto the others swing, their bodies are in different directions but their gazes are locked on each other. With the swings pinned together as they hold on, everything falls silent and before Cyrus even knew what was happening they kissed.

This kiss was different to his kiss with Iris. It was still soft and full of nerves but it was exactly the kind of kiss Cyrus would imagine for a proper first kiss. 

When they part Cyrus hangs his head forward with clearly flushed cheeks. They’re both holding onto the others swings so they’re still close. 

“What do we do now?” Cyrus asks with a nervous giggle. 

“I don’t know.” TJ shrugs and matches Cyrus’ soft laugh. “There’s a week left of summer and one thing left of the list. How about we start with that?” 

“The pier jump?” Cyrus questions. 

“Do you think you’d be up for it?” TJ asks. 

“I’m feeling a lot braver than I was this morning.” Cyrus laughs, “I think I can do it.” 

TJ smile is soft and pure in response. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Cyrus snaps out of his blissful little bubble - although he still was feeling the effects of it - “You have one blank left on the list too.” 

“Technically the list is already at 100 things if we count the kiss.” TJ is sheepish over the mention. 

“101 sounds far more interesting.” Cyrus shrugs, “I still think you deserve the last task.” 

“This is your list, Cy, not mine.” TJ shakes his head. 

“This is more than just my list now.” Cyrus says with a smile, “This list has been a summer guide for us, it’s brought people together, it’s helped me grow and I wouldn't have been able to complete those tasks without you or Walker and Marty and I certainly wouldn’t have even started it if it wasn’t for you encouraging me.” 

TJ smiles at Cyrus’ kind words, “Okay, I’ll think of something.” 

“You have to think of it before summer ends,” Cyrus insists, “It just makes sense.” 

TJ agrees with a nod. A small smile creeps on his face and he is a sheepish kind of confident as he asks, “Are you going to let me kiss you again without me having to write it on the list?” 

Cyrus could feel his cheeks burn red with giddy nerves. “I think I would be okay with that.” 

TJ tries to hide how much that made him smile but he fails, “Okay, so I think I have something we could do.” 

“Do tell?” Cyrus begs. 

“Well you’ve gone through a whole list of things you’re scared of, I think it’s only fair that I try one thing I’m afraid of.” TJ says. 

Cyrus already has a suspicion about what TJ had in mind. “Are you going to hold a snake?” 

“I think we should start with lizards first but why not?” TJ laughs with a single shrug of his shoulder. “I’m feeling brave.” 

“The zoo has an interactive reptile exhibit,” Cyrus says excitedly, “We could go together?” 

“Yeah, sounds perfect.” TJ nods, “Tomorrow?” 

“Count me in.” Cyrus smiles. 

“So it’s a date?” TJ asks nervously. 

“Like a date, date?” Cyrus tries to clarify. 

“Only if you want.” TJ backtracks anxiously. 

“I want.” Cyrus nods and the two resume their cute ‘I don’t really know how to act around you anymore’ moods. 

Things were definitely different now, but the good kind of different. 

The following day Cyrus and TJ head to the zoo and nervously fumble through their first date. The two weren't really sure how to act around each other now that feelings were present but neither of them cared. By the end of the day TJ bravely held a snake and Cyrus held TJ’s hand. 

The two agreed to keep things secret for the time being although all of their friends caught on to something happening between them. It was obvious, the pair couldn’t wipe the giddy smiles off their faces when they were around each other. Although all of the others were happy to pretend like they didn’t notice and let the pair have their private moment to work things out between themselves.

-

On the Sunday, the day after the zoo, it’s the last day of summer and the group of friends head to the beach. Jonah and Andi seemed to be in a good place, Marty and Buffy were friendly again and even Amber was getting along with Andi again. Surely enough Walker was completely fine to spend time with Andi and Jonah and they also strangely adapted to his presence too because of how comfortable he was. 

They all spend a day on the sand, Iris and Amber joined them as Cyrus felt it was important that they both be there as they had contributed to Cyrus’ growth this summer. 

As the sun began to set on the final day of summer Cyrus suggests they all make their way down the pier. 

“Are you really going to do it, Cyrus?” Buffy asks unconvinced as he had never done it when they were kids. 

“I’m going to do it.” Cyrus says confidently and he smiles at TJ for a second. 

“Let’s all hold hands.” Andi calls over the individual conversations that were taking place. Everyone starts to link hands with whoever was closest to them. TJ holds his hand out and Cyrus smiles like a fool as he takes it. They each creep towards to the edge of the pier and the nine teens all stand connected in a line. 

“On the count of three?” TJ looks to Cyrus for confirmation that he really wanted to do this. 

“On the count of three.” Cyrus says with a nod and loud enough so everyone could hear. 

“One... Two... Three!” TJ and Cyrus say together and they all leap forward after the final count. They teens splash into the cool water with various gasps and other reactions. Cyrus swims up to the surface and paddles to keep himself afloat. A wide smile is plastered on his face after finally completing the list. 

TJ is looking to Cyrus with a proud smile as he swims. Everyone was paddling around them but it was like they were the only two there. “Best summer ever.” Cyrus says and even though it was ending, Cyrus was excited for what was to come next. 

End Notes: SO THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER!! (Although there will be an epilogue and bonus chapter!!!!!)

Firstly I want to say sorry if this feels rushed... I really wanted to get it posted and I hope it meets all my expectations for their conversation!!!!!!

[Epilogue]

#tyrus #tyrus au #tyrus fic #the list fic #andi mack #tj kippen #cyrus goodman

[kenmaiii]

stop being jealous and bitter!

Now i know you cant outright just throw away your jealousy in the art community. You see a really cool popular artist or just someone with absolutely amzing art and you think “wow holy shit their art is so good i wish that was me and that i could do that....” I understand that spite can be a good thing sometimes; it can be what motivates you to improve and do well, especially if the artist is well... not the best person in terms of personality. Great, that’s even more motivation to do well right!? 

But when does all the comparing go too far?

----------------------------------------long post incoming------------------------------------------

Now i’ve had people very close to me do this. I’ve been told that im ‘popular’ which im honestly not seriously. They could probably be reading this right now, but this has been bothering me for awhile so i must get this out there. Let’s step into a certain mindset for a moment:-

You hate your artwork. You hate your current skills. Sure there are artists you like. But then there are ‘THOSE’ ones. You have very specific artists you follow just because theyre so good and popular they make you feel bitter and you still check up on them regularly to fuel that bitterness. You know good and well that they make you bitter and angry and peeved but you just keep going back.

Step back for a moment and think.... why on earth am i fucking doing this???? Comparing and feeling bitter about another persons skill or popularity and letting yourself stay sad and bitter isn’t good for ANYTHING, art aside. It’s good to want to feel validated at the work you spent time on but it WILL get tiring if you keep complaining that ‘your art is bad’, ‘your art isnt good’, ‘its shit’ or ‘garbage’. Your brain is just internalizing that and hindering your work and future improvement. It’s most importantly WASTING YOUR own time, YOU the creator. And not to sound snobby here, i really truly dont intend for that, but some of you know good and well that you keep belitting you work because you only just want people to compliment your art when youre only doing the bare minimum to improve! I can only tell you as a friend or an on-looker that i love your art so many times (as much i really do love it and hope for your improvement) if you continuously decide to still turn around and say you hate your work and tell me im wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why reach for compliments then! Why continuously turn them down?

And i’m not saying you cant ever not like your art (cause it happens) or decline a compliment, but to do it every single time....it leaves a bad image for your work. You either start to believe it, or the person complimenting you will get put off from your negativity!  

It makes people feel bad, especially if theyre also artist AND also your friends. You can’t keep saying you prefer their work and still put down your own. It makes your artist friend uncomfortable. They might not know how to respond when you keep doing it. And im sure they wouldnt want you to keep making yourself feel bad. Personally, i wish all my art friends success and improvement, and i want them to love and feel proud of their work more than the times they hate it. We really need to uplift each other as artists.

Thanks.

What you think and say is what you become and if youre always negative and comparing youre gonna tear down both the person you admire and yourself. Ie, if youre constantly thinking ‘ill never be as good as this person’,’no ones ever gonna like my work’, ‘i cant color as well as they do’ or saying that your work is only ever garbage... newsflash asshole! your mind absorbs that negativity and makes you believe it! u fool!!!!! Because brains are stupid and can be your worst enemy at times! 

Sometimes you just need to stOP looking at certain peoples work completely if it gets you that bitter or angry or sad. Unfollow them! Block them! Delete their name from your search history if you have to! Stop hurting yourself and forget about them, it’s like trying to think about an ex thats moved on. Pointless.

Negative emotions such as sadness and anger are our brains direct ways at trying to reach out to ourselves.

You: seeing cool art Your mind: remembering you dont have some of those skills or popularity + comparing = sadness/ anger/ bitterness at not being able to be at that lvl withtin the same timeframe or less

Your brain is trying to tell you to fix this! But you know you might not have the tools to gain that much popularity or become so good at anatomy, coloring , compositions or backgrounds overnight, so the only solution for your brain is to self-sabotage.

It’s just the same as suddenly feeling sad for no reason. It’s your mind trying to work out a problem you never resolved. Maybe your friends haven’t replied in awhile and you feel ignored. Or you subconsciously remembered a bad experience without really realizing. You’ll get sad. Your mind is is saying ‘Hey asshole im sad. I know it might be out of your control but I’ll stay sad about this one thing until you resolve it somehow. ’ (whether it be blindly distracting yourself on purpose or fully wallowing in the feelings)

So we realized youre feeling intensely about this persons work vs your own...then what exactly happened there? The answer is pretty simple. Some kind of information processing happened in your brain. The result of this processing made the your mind conclude that one of your existing problems (art in this case) can never be solved; whether conscious or unconscious, and this explains why your mood might change all of a sudden without any kind of warning signs (in relation to what you saw). 

Inspired VS Jealousy When youre inspired youre working against yourself in a GOOD way. You’re feeling motivated to make something great! Youre feeling motivated to make something better than the last piece!! And honestly thats wonderful!!!  That is a lot nicer than being in art-block, comparison negativity hell.

YOU are the only one responsible for where you are as an artist. That goes towards every artist of every skill level! There’s always someone better than you and there’s always someone worse than you. People get better at art in different intervals depending on how much they take in or put into practicing. Some people just get some concepts and fundamentals a lot easier and quicker than others but that doesn’t mean they naturally had that ability from birth. They put in the work just as you should be doing instead of feeling so intensely negative! But when you’re jealous and negative all the time, that’s when it starts to go downhill. :/

Jealously is a very human emotion at its core. And im not saying its super easy to deal with and just suddenly get over, but there are things you can do to slowly help yourself do it at least a little less.

Here’s the best things you CAN do instead:- - Write down some of the things you find yourself feeling bitter over about, especially when you look at another artists work? Ask yourself why these specific things? If it’s something you yourself can work on in your own pieces then maybe uh do that?  - Find the time to practice your work. - Practice even more. - If it’s your style that you arent happy with think of the artstyles you like and set aside time to mimic the way that artist might draw something (hence adding that to YOUR style). Take a sketchbook page or two and just draw entirely in those styles. - Practice. I can’t stress this enough. I know artists say this a lot and it can kind of just be thrown around carelessly, but if you keep putting this off and saying you don’t want to practice or talking about how time is going by when you should be practicing things.... and STILL refuse to practice then???? I cant help you sorry. Time waits for no one, so sometimes you need to grab time by the horns and kick its ass for awhile. Put in that effort! - Please use references. Even better if you use it nearly EVERYTIME you draw something, especially yknow...if its a pose, body part or background that you know you have no idea how to properly express! Find a stock image or a variety of websites to use! Save poses that you like from online magazines, other artists and photographs you see anywhere online. I like to look at online magazines from other countries or photographers, and there are tons of places like pinterest or instagram and whatnot. - Stop comparing and being bitter. Ii cant say this enough it gets me so ticked off, but my stubborn taurus self refuses to fully go off until it all piles up and this post is the result lol. If you know you can’t let go hating on a certain artist (for no good reason) then dont hate-follow them! Don’t check up on their work constantly! Don’t even talk about them!!!!!!! Try to get them out of your head for goodness sakes. Majority of the time they dont even know who YOU are so why are you worried about what they’re up to. - STOP SHITTING ON YOUR OWN WORK. - STOP IT RIGHT NOW. - AS THE ARTIST SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO FORCE YOURSELF TO SAY ‘’hey, my work isn’t exactly where i want it to be at this point in time and it may never be but i can appreciate that i’ve gotten better at a lot of things and im better than where i was a few years/ a year/ a month ago/ even weeks ago.” - ”I’m proud of this piece and can’t wait to get even better.” - Art is a struggle that takes time, effort and a lot of work. There’s always going to be someone better than you and there’s always going to be someone worse than you. You can only strive to get to the level that would make you happiest, otherwise you will get irritated with it and feel absolutely miserable about everything you produce. - PUT IN THE WORK TO GET YOUR ART OUT THERE. Social media has been both a curse and a blessing to artists all around. It’s made it easier for us to share our work around and opened paths for making money online and at home and connecting with other artists, but competition grows everyday as more people post their work in the same market. (ie another reason why it can be hard to get your commissions out there) Also as artists we want that dopamine rush you get from people liking your stuff, i get that its gucci. -But if you aren’t tagging your works well, posting somewhat consistently, not really bothering to talk to people in certain art communities (even people in your fandom because hey potential friends and even partners on future projects), not adding your works to groups (a big problem i see with people on places like deviantart mostly), joining and sharing them in art group chats/aminos/discords, joining events to get yourself out there (such as zines/big bangs/gift exchanges etc), giving tips and advice or even little helpful tutorials to people then how do you expect to be noticed? How.  If youre not doing at least TWO of these things then hoW can you complain about not getting attention. :(

 Of course you dont have to do ALL of this. Im just saying ...if you arent out there advertising how will more people know about you? This leads to you thinking no one likes your art (skill level excluded because even my cringiest old art would have a few comments or encouragements to see my future improvement, and i still want to hide when people like/comment/reblog said old art to this very day). 

I understand mainly OC artists feel this way that no ones gonna like their characters, or it just doesnt get reblogged enough in general but thats understandable too. No one is ‘selling out’ if they only do fanart. No one is ‘snobby or scared to get themselves out there’ if theyre really enthusiastic about their stories and worlds. Otherwise we wouldnt have fandoms int he first place, theyre all someones work. And hell, good for you if you draw both. It really is just a matter of how you put yourself out there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’ll take some time but there IS always someone out there that likes your stuff. And sometimes you just have to be content with making work for yourself, work that makes you happy. The online art world is tough especially when youre small but once you fall into the depths of bitterness its hard to rewire your mind...

This is how yall should be looking at your/others work majority of the time: You: seeing cool art  Your mind: omg thats beautiful! i wish i could draw and paint like that. i should practice more , try out some poses and anatomy or implement what they do into my work. i wanna make a cool ass piece like this too i feel so pumped to draw and work!! 

And that’s that! Do yourself a favor and be happier you bastards! Its tiring being negative and sad all the time and i want tf out of it. Its so very tiring and annoying to be sad and bitter as shit!!!!! My goD

I can’t really think of anything else to add to this and the text may appear angry sometimes as i was very heated when i wrote this but tried to tone it down a lot hfkds. Im not some ‘art guru goddess with supreme skill uwuw’ but advice is advice! It’s always up to the person listening to take it or not.

I’m gonna end this with one of my favorite art quotes of all time from t h e Arin Hanson himself. Because it really is true. 

Get yourself out there, practice towards a level that makes you content and try to have more fun with loving your work.

It’s taken me a long while to post this, as i’ve been feeling this way for...at least a couple months??? but i finally put it all out there i just needed to do this lol.  Sorry if i mightve repeated info sometimes here and there?

This post is just as much of a call out to my own actions but more so @ those of you that specifically do this! 

#. #rant #vent #psa #art psa #i guess lol? #art meta #art struggles #art problem #art problems #artist struggles #artist pet peeves #artist problems #i was going to post this a month ago but things happened #my anger dwindled out but then i heard abt something engative over and over. #and the anger came back #so im posting this now. #if you think im wrong and there are some things i couldve said differently #just message me in an ask or privately #or smthn #art dilemma #art discourse #idk how to tag this #artists on tumblr #artist on tumblr #black artist #Black artists #art rant #art rants #art meme

[thyrideneverends]

(2017)

Escritos que encontre del año 2017 . Y conversaciones conmigo desde el año 2020 ([]).

____________________________ AAAHGH IM SO FUCKING SAD. I cant help but feel that im rotting. I dont want pity; people helping; people empathizing. FUCK YOU. I can do better than you. I DO. In fact. I havent been blinded, and hate everything around me as an excuse for giving my life away for what it was supposed to be. [this could be missunderstod since i was clearly angry 4 something i dont recall, I was refering to people in general, how they put themselves above the others, how they always wanna get "there" first, how they talk trash about their relationships, the anger, the hate that breeds out of them when they are wronged(even if there`s no purpose or whatsoever to cause them, specifically, any troubles), the screaming, the violence, that kind of hate..]

I dont want to just 'be happy' because I have to; so I reject happiness. But I want to feel it like something real and not made up.. does that makes sense? Thats a paradox i cant escape lately. [thats deep man, fortunately we figured that out. Have we figured that out? Happiness now is closed for manteinance ^-^ ]

I cant find pleasure in anything.. I destroyed everything..[you had to start somewhere, right?] I cant find meaning in anything.

I just need someone, i just need not to be alone. But I am; Even surrounded by everyone. I know I am. I know you are too.. I hope you are strong enough to endure it.

[hablabas de otro tipo de soledad, lo se, pero vos todavia no lo sabias, o si?]

_______________________

Sometimes I feel like I forgot an important part of being alive. I remember a different version of myself from a few years back. I feel like I'm just existing; nothing pushes my happy button. And when I'm not strong enough to think that it's fine; that I don't need that.. I will just panic questioning myself why, the reason for me not belonging. I know it's fine; I know I can just spend the rest of my..50years left? just doing this; living this eternal circling hell. You might say it's a choice.. That I don't put that much effort into it. That I'm just playing this part. Complaining my ass off. And to that.. I can only say I'm sorry.. I'm doing the best I can. [I know you were.. truly; and u did a great job never letting me down] _________________________________________

Why are we even here right.. What powers you? You wake up, work or study, ingest food, sleep. Repeat. To finish your career and become something.. To earn enough money to become someone.. Be better in what you're doing or you'll be out. You'll be useless. You'll be garbage. We[the system] won't need you.. And then we have to be happy about it.. We have to function collectively happy and there's no room for the outcasts.. And IM to blame for it.. I could be happy like all of them.. But I'm just sitting my ass here thinking what else I can sabotage, in order to understand why it's unnecessary and wish to be also capable of that... Just capable maybe of.. not be weird; not be me.. And sometimes thats all that matters. That Im me.. And I love not being a part of them. I just can never get a hold of that moment and make it last.. I will feel alone just a moment after. [Im so glad we worked our loneliness, I mean, we have such fine moments in silence..]

____________________________________________

Aah... I was just given advice by a hot girl on tinder about how should I type, express and resume myself so the person on the other side of the screen won't stop replying thinking I'm an idiot.. She basically said :- "hey, you're an idiot but maybe a cute one. Here's human help. Just stop being you and people will like you" Y'know what? that's bullshit... It makes me so anxious that it happens all the time. There's always someone judgin. Not only online; real life is the worst. I just don't fit in here I guess. I'll keep talking with the tinder girl, maybe and get emptynessly laid, why not? But I think I hate this.. I hate that everything craves for a definition and people just won't LOOK; Im hidden among them... God how I wish to know who's there ravaging their brains with questions while walking in that empty crowd. I wish I could find you and ask just what you were thinking there. At that unique moment. You are not alone... But if you feel like I do; I wonder if you also wonder. I wonder if we're just very far away from each other.. I wonder if it`s true that there can only be one of us by this cosmic rule that goes: only one 'you/me' for every thousand people. Or.. maybe it's just me. Too old to be an idiot... Too idiot to fully be himself around smart well adjusted people. I guess it's a matter of perspective. isn't it pretty much all? Have a good night stranger.. [Not so stranger.. my dude.. U didn't get laid btw, you couldn't pull through with that. And then you promised you wouldn't lie about who you are.. You wouldn't ever play another role other than the one you are. Well, it was more like a statement than a promise, to yourself. I was there.. Best decision you ever made. You mutated loneliness into a condition, a simple symptom of your choice of living; instead of a disease on itself.. Very clever.]

_____________________________________________

You don't have to read but if you wanna unload please write it down. Everything u hate.. or love; This I wrote on my personal account but it makes me anxious to open myself to judgy people, so I erased it.. We live to judge because we love fixing things that didn't go right with us. Never understanding each perspective is unique. Well Im gonna paste it here because I don't want to lose it.. I don't want something I really meant to be just a deleted thing..(even if it is)

Have u ever felt like you're unique or different?   But then just analyzing, we all just walk towards and objective. We don't do things just because. You don't get up every day to just go to work.. to just have breakfast or go shopping, idk; people set goals. We follow patterns. We repeat the same exact thing to strangers of the streets. The same exact things other strangers reply to us.. We are the same NPCs to others. And then realizing this I just wanna scream PLEASE GET ME OUT OF THIS. Please look at me! I don't want this. I don't want to be aware of this.. I don't want to feel I'm just to you what you guess I am. What's the point of everything? How do I get to know who I am if I'm always this self-centered stupid attempt of somebody? Nobody wants that. Sometimes I am glad to be "awake". To be different from the other people in their bubbles... But most of the time I'd give EVERYTHING to be exactly like that. Because I feel lonely. Because I have so many friends, but we can't communicate. Because I've lost the ideal of love because at a certain point I was scared of being a problem and it hurts so fucking much. I don't think I am special.. or more intelligent or cultural, I just feel I have a different degree of "profoundness" than most other people. It's not something I talk about or show, most of the time i pretend to fit in, but I don't. I can fool myself for periods, I've fooled myself for so many years now, but in the end it always comes back, I can't hide it forever. it hurts so much. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse and I feel like a fucking show-off that just wants attention..

[I felt that.. dude. You write beautifully..]

_____________________________________________

Hi person reading this. Be nice, life is full of shitty people. Make a tiny difference; someday we're all gonna die so its cool. Dont hold grudges ^^ . [^^]

______________________________________________

We are all just internet jesters shitposting to fill the void Even if you're just taking selfies and being beautiful while loving life, smiling to nothing and eating healthy shit while showing off the new place you just visited to a bunch of strangers that doesn't give a fuck about you .. (actually those are the worsts) yeah.. (Don't get me wrong I'm not saying it's bad. I do that too ! we like showing ourselves to others..) Screaming... I exist. Notice me sempai. We just are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

________________________________________________ *draw of myself* [couldnt find it anywhere, where did u put it D: . i remember the sad expression] I know It has a lot of imperfections but so do I. I guess this is how I see myself.. Maybe I just wanted it to be like that. To express something to myself. I still feel like a little kid sometimes even tho I'm 25; "I just can't play with the other kids because I feel different and they make me feel different." Now I can't play with the adults, they're too adults. They make me feel too adult; i need to act up every move to become like them. And then alone, I can be at peace being who I wanna be; But it gets lonely from time to time; Not being able to understand who are you really; where are you really above the necessity of impersonating this other dude to get laid, get the job, get the money. And for what?.. Just to keep doing it because there is really no other choice.. How sad. But anyway. Ever tried to draw yourself? To see what's the image of you that you hold in your head.. if u truly do it; it doesn't matter if you know or not how to proyect yourself.. Every trace you make on that paper is a creation this world has never seen.. your chance to make a difference; it doesn't have to be trendy or impact in mankind. I suppose that's what I call art. And that's why art is everywhere.. Everything that can never be repeated.. Anything that comes from you; or life itself. A random amount of dirt.. Sunlight getting through the leaves of a tree.. Pieces of a broken cup and the stain of coffee in the carpet.. I'm not an artist myself tho; never considered myself even close to one.. I haven't drawn in years.. This is my first one in a long time; I just felt like it.

________________________________________________

[not-close-to-straight]

Better This Way (Chapter Six)

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)

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

The sun was just barely coming up, pinpricks of light stealing in from the edges of the curtains when Peter's full heat finally hit, and he went from mewling softly as Wade touched him to crying out, digging his heels into the bed to shove his hips into the air, thrusting helplessly into Wade's loose grasp. He was swearing, sweating, tearing at the sheets, rubbing his thighs together as slick started flowing.

“Pete.” a growl ripped from Wade's throat. “Omega.” He could feel the change in the air, as the easy lines of contentment, pleasure, gentle between them ratcheted up to need, desperate, more.

“Yes.” Peter moaned. “Alpha. Yes.” he was already starting to slur a little as the heat took him, dragging his fingers through his hair and down his face, trying to muffle his moans behind his hand.

“God dammit.” Wade ran his hands up Peter's chest, resting over his racing heart before moving back down, not stopping the restless motion of his hips, just pressing lightly so Peter had something to thrust up against, nearly biting his tongue off when one of those long legs hooked around his waist, urging him down against the omega. “Wish I could see you.” he muttered and Peter nodded.

“Alpha, want to see you too. Want to see you and taste you and--fuck fuck---” Peter wrapped his other leg around Wade's waist and tightened them, canting his hips and forcing Wade down against him.

They both yelled when their bodies met, when their cocks lined up and Peter arched as close as he could, ripping his nails down Wade's back.

“I know you’re self conscious about your skin, but oh my god you feel so good. Rough against me, lights me up, makes me crazy. Sensitive. So good.” Peter was babbling, barely making sense but Wade was soaking in every word of it. “Alpha my Alpha can't wait--need you--”

“You still sure about this? Still sure about me?” Wade asked anxiously, even though he was already so hard he could barely think straight, the sharp scent of omega nearly breaking through his control, not to mention every time Peter called him ‘my Alpha’ Wade wanted to absolutely howl.

“You can still say no.” He whispered, and helped Peter roll over onto his stomach. “You can say no and I'll leave, just need hear it.”

“Mmmm.” Peter hummed in agreement, already scrambling up on all fours, rolling his hips against the heavy Alpha cock, every brush of their skin together sending lightning streaks through Wade's body.

“I need words, honey.” Wade held Peter's hips firmly. “Need words. Yes or no, if you still want--”

“Yes!” Peter snarled a little, impatient now that his heat was fully on him. “Yes, I'm sure. I'm not a virgin, I know what I'm asking for. I've been with other Alphas before, but they don't matter right now. You do. Just you, Wade- Wade-Wade- Alpha- Alpha….” his words tumbled into something incoherent, and Wade could feel the strength in Peter's legs as the omega shifted anxiously, testing the hold on his hips. “Need you, need you Alpha, my Alpha, come on.”

Peter pushed harder against Wade's grip, rocking back and forth until Wade tightened his hands to nearly bruising, growling in warning. Only then did Peter sigh happily and settle down, resting his head in his pillows, content to let the Alpha control the moment.  

“Alpha.” he whispered. “Alpha.”

Wade saw the submission for what it was, amazed all over again that Peter trusted him this much. “Are you ready, Pete?” Wade asked. “Gonna touch you here, alright?” he slid careful fingers through the slick on Peter's thighs, then an even lighter touch between Peter's legs, searching for where he was warm and wet and open--- “Honey, you’re so ready for me. Already wet and--”

“So ready Alpha.” Peter shifted against him, wanting to push backwards against his fingers, but keeping himself still. “Want you.”

“Want you too.” Wade ran a firm hand up Peter's back to tangle in his hair before smoothing over the curve of his neck, settling at the junction of neck and shoulder where a bonding bite would be placed if they were--if they---

Well anyway.

“Gonna take you all at once.” He whispered, and a tremor racked Peter's body, a broken sounding sob falling from his lips. “Make you feel it.” He was already ripping open a condom, sliding it down himself, feeling his knot already starting to form at the base of his cock.

“Yes, Alpha. Take whatever you want.”

“Omega.” Wade groaned low in his chest, and then lined himself up and pushed inside that sweet body in one long stroke.

“Wade!” Peter was suddenly screaming, clenching around him, soaking the sheets below with his release, and Wade could scarcely believe it, gritting his teeth to keep himself still, to keep himself fitted tightly against Peter's ass, waiting for the Omega to stop shaking and moaning.

“Wade. Oh my god---” Peter sounded like he might be crying, and Wade leaned over him, dotting comforting kisses all over his back and shoulders. “Oh my god-- you’re so good. So good, Alpha goddamnit--”

“Are you alright? Pete, that was incredible, I can't believe---”

“More.” Now Peter did move back against him, whining impatiently. “Need more. Not even close to done, need more.”

“Honey, give yourself a minute to--”

“More!” Peter demanded and Wade left one last kiss on his shoulder.

“Brace yourself, baby boy.”

*************** *************** It was sometime in between a wave of heat-- Wade couldn't say what time it was, didn't care what time it was--Peter was asleep, worn out, little tremors running through him from the last round, so Wade carefully lifted himself free, hissing as his knot slipped from Peter's body, a mess of come and slick flowing steadily from the omega.

After the first time, Peter had told him no more condoms, that his birth control was fine and that he needed to feel his Alpha coming inside him and---Well no Alpha in the world could refuse that, and Wade certainly hadn't.

So now he slipped from the bed, stumbling to the bathroom to grab a fresh towel, and glanced in the mirror.

His eyes were still tinted red, his Alpha not fully receded, hovering right below the surface ready for another chance to knot the omega. Wade's skin...looking just as harsh and scarred as it always did, the wild edge in his eyes making it somehow all look worse.

He looked like a monster.

Wade splashed some water on his face and went back into the bedroom, spreading the towel out on the wet spot and carefully rolling Peter until he lay on it, the omega whining in his sleep and curling into a ball to keep warm.

Wade climbed back in bed, let himself press close to the beautiful boy, his hand trailing through all that hair. “Pretty, perfect thing.” He murmured, and Peter turned in the bed, reaching for and winding his arms around Wade's waist and snuggling closer.

“Alpha.” Peter muttered. “My Alpha.” He buried his face in Wade's chest, soft lips moving over the rough skin as he mumbled something unintelligible and fell back asleep.

“Omega.” Wade held him tight. “Pete why'd you have to be an Omega? This won't work between us.” He closed his eyes. “This won't work between us.”

************************ ************************ Wade hesitated before leaving, taking one long last look at the omega on the bed. One last look at Peter before he slipped out the door.

It was better this way.

It was daytime again, nearly thirty hours after he had showed up on the fire escape, and Peter's heat had broken almost three hours ago.

Wade had slipped out of bed and showered, scrubbing the sticky sweet scent of heat and sex and sweat off of himself, then cleaning up the room as best as he could, replacing the water they had guzzled and making sure there were plenty of snacks closeby for when Peter woke up. He was already dressed back in his suit, so there wasn't anything else to do except to grab his gloves off the floor and leave.

But still he hesitated, taking the time to grab the comforter from the floor and pull it up around Peter's bare shoulders, taking a long moment to admire the smooth skin, the little freckles that decorated it. Most of Peter's heat had happened during the day, a wave hitting about once every five or six hours, and Wade had hardly slept at all. Instead he had spent the time staring down at the sleeping omega, watching the lean chest rise and fall in sleep, tracing the full, red lips with just his fingertips, smoothing thick brown hair off the ever present blindfold.

He felt like he could draw Peter's body from memory now, the long long legs, the arms that were so much stronger than they looked. The muscled abdomen that had clenched and shifted with every orgasm. He even had the noises memorized-- the little scream at the first hard thrust, the pants and whines as they moved together, the desperate, helpless wail as Peter came. And the satisfied little noises he made as he came down from each high, moving his hips in tiny, jerky, motions just to feel the bulge of Wade's knot buried inside him.

It had been beautiful. He was beautiful. Every damn thing about the omega was so beautiful.

Which meant that no matter what Peter had said about Wade's skin, the omega had no business messing around with someone like him.

So here he was, trying to sneak out of the apartment like a coward, terrified of what post-heat would bring.

“Where are you going?” Peter woke up suddenly and Wade jumped, biting back a curse. “Are you leaving me?” he sounded devastated and Wade had to swallow back the urge to climb right back into bed and hold him.

“I didn't mean to wake you.” Wade said softly. “I was just--”

“You are leaving me.” Peter was hoarse, too many hours of screaming his way through his heat ruining his voice. “Why? Wade please… just a few more minutes.”

“It's better this way.” Wade clenched his fists. “Better like this, honey. Your heat broke, you don't need me sticking around making things weird.”

“But I need--” He cleared his throat, adjusting the blindfold when it slipped. “Coming down is easier with an Alpha. You know that. Please just a few more minutes.”

“Here.” Wade stripped off his shirt instantly and handed it to Peter, something catching in his chest when the omega grabbed the shirt tight, inhaling deeply and whimpering a little.

“I'll keep the blindfold on.” Peter insisted. “Just stay with me. For a few more hours. We don't have to talk or anything, but if you leave now it's like… it's like you’re running away from me or rejecting me and I can't handle that, I can't. Please just---

“I shouldn’t stay.” Wade interrupted and took another step away before he tried to climb back into bed. “Patrol though, right? Not tonight, tomorrow night definitely. After you sleep? Make sure you eat something too. Water. You gotta keep hydrated.”

“But you're my Alpha, isn’t it your job to take care of me after a heat?” Came the shaky question and Wade felt his heart break at the rejection, lonely from the Omega.

“Spidey--”

“My names Peter. Peter. Say it.” He demanded, holding the shirt tighter. “Say it.”

“Peter.” Wade whispered, softening his voice and trying to push as much comfort, settle, calm into it as he could. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow morning, even better by the time patrol comes around. I'll see you then, alright?”

“You don't have to leave.” Peter insisted again, and he sounded less angry now and just closer to tears. “Please don't leave.”

“It's better this way, baby boy. You don't want to deal with this mess. Getting you through heat is one thing, but--- this is better for both of us, alright? You just got to trust me.”

Wade forced himself out the door, out of the apartment and down the street, snagging a new shirt off a vendor and tossing some money at him, before breaking into a run, trying to put as much distance between himself and the omega he had had to force himself to leave.

And in his room, Peter curled into a ball around Wade’s shirt and cried himself back to sleep.

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

#ncts fics #spideypool #omegaverse #peter parker #wade wilson #omega!peter #alpha!wade

[welldamnshawn]

Did you wish that was you? // Shawn Mendes

Overview: Y/n has been in love with her best friend Shawn, she finally gets the courage to tell him but instead she finds him kissing another girl. He tracks her down and their feelings are revealed. 

Authors note: okay so this is not a request but I got some inspo last night and I really just wanted to write something 

“If you don’t say anything, Shawn’s never going to realise how his best friend is so in love with him,” Shay tells me, curling the last strand of her hair before flicking it over her shoulder. Her eyes meet mine in the bathroom mirror.

“There’s no point. We have a great thing going and if I told him how I really felt- it would just ruin our whole friendship.” I scowl, annoyed at my lack of faith in myself to just tell Shawn how I feel.

“Y/n. I swear you may be book smart but you are not boy smart.” She giggles and I look at her questionably. 

“Excuse you, but I have a lot of knowledge on boys-”

“Oh honey,” Shay coos, patting my hand that was resting on the bench. “You both are actually so cute.” 

“What do you mean?” I start to pack up the make up brushes that Shay had been using.

“You’re into him. He’s definitely into you. You’re both too scared to tell each other how you feel. It pains me to watch the both of you together.” 

“He’s not into me.” I don’t look at her but I feel her turn to look at me. 

“Alright, listen. Tonight at the party. Shawn is going to be there and so are you. You’re going to go right up to him and tell him how you feel.” She holds my shoulders in a tight grip, forcing me to meet her eyes. “He leaves for tour day after next so if things really fuck up you won’t have to see him- deal?”

I nod hesitantly, stomach flipping at the prospect of what I was about to do.

The music was already blasting when we arrived, red solo cups littering the front yard and the house packed with people dancing.

“Lets go get your man.” Shay shouts, working her way through the crowd.

Let’s. I smile halfheartedly, feeling like I was going to throw up my dinner at any given moment.

10 minutes later there’s still no luck in finding Shawn. I try not to look so obvious as I stand on my tiptoes, scanning the crowd for a mop of brown curly hair yet everyone looked the same in the low lighting.

“Hey Greg, you seen Shawn?” I hear Shay ask and I turn to see them, her hand pressed to Greg’s chest to stop him in his tracks.

“Second floor near the pool table.” He replies before shugging off her hand and making his way into the kitchen.

“Let’s go.” Shay repeats. I follow her up the stairs, my heart doing blackflips in my chest and I grip the hand rail in a lame attempt to calm my nerves.

We reach the landing and I crash into Shays back as she’s freezes. Her sharp intake of breath has me looking up from the floor to the slightly crowded lounge room.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” She whispers tugging my hand to pull me out the room but I stay put, eyes glued to them.

Shawn and the short blonde whose lips are stuck on his as he presses her against the said pool table. I feel my heart twist painfully, my eyes burning, alerting me of the soon to fall tears.

They break away and I see Shawn’s chest rising and falling quickly. I look away, unable to handle the sight of the two of them together.

“Y/n!” I hear someone shout my name but the sudden pain in my stomach has me fleeing the room and straight down the stairs.

I don’t turn to see if Shay is behind me, I don’t want to know if Shawn realized I was there. I head towards the door, shutting it behind me and making the short walk back to my house a couple blocks down.

I shove the key in the lock slamming it shut after I’m inside, the warmth enveloping me. I feel numb, unsure of how to react now I’m alone. I feel stupid. I should have know he would be kissing other girls tonight because he’s Shawn, and I’m just Y/n.

I go into the bathroom, staring at my appearance. I can’t help but wonder what Shawn even sees as me as a friend. Am I his geeky best friend that will only ever be a friend? Does he see me as a younger sister? Do we have that kind of friendship?

My gaze falls on the necklace hanging around my neck. The small charm of S, as in S for Shawn, glinting in the light. Shawn gave it to me as a birthday present for my 16th.

I remember when he passed me the small box, hands shaking, when I opened the lid- the small pendant shining up at me. His words. “For when I cant be with you- the necklace will remind you that I’m always here and that I care about you.”

Those words had sent my young heart into a spiral and I couldn’t stop smiling for a week. Now the necklace simply reminded me of what we’ll only ever be. Best friends.

I raise a hand to tug the necklace off but a knock on the front door distracts me and the chain stays locked around my neck.

I pull the door open, expecting it to be Shay, checking up on me. My eyes widen however, when I see Shawn standing in front of me.

“No.” I say before I can even think, slamming the door shut and resting my back against the wood.

More knocking persists and I clench my eyes shut. I did not want to deal with the future embarrassment that was surely going to happen if Shawn made me explain my sudden departure.

“Go away!” I shout, eyes still shut.

“No. You’re going to let me in and talk to me.” Comes Shawn's muffled reply.

“Go home!” I ignore his statement, beginning to walk away from the door.

“I’ll smash your window to get in!” I hear his faint voice. I stop to look over my shoulder at the door. My quick breaths fill the silence until I hear a “You know I’ll do it.” 

I walk back over to the door, cursing Shawn the whole way. When I open it again I see him standing there, arm resting against the frosted glass that surrounds the front door.  

“What?” I snap at him. He slides past me into the house and I slam the door in a huff. “I didn’t invite you in, you know?” 

“I’m not standing out in the cold when our conversation is probably going to take a while.” he shrugs his jacket off as he says this, hanging it on the coat rack.

“I have nothing to talk about so it must just be you.” I cross my arms over my chest. His eyes fall to the skin between the scoop neck of my dress and my collarbones, as if he was just realizing it was exposed.

“You were at the party?” Shawn asks. He looks shocked, slightly nervous.  He leans from foot to foot, placing his weight on one then the other. 

“Yes.” I retort, walking away from him, intent on changing out of the dress that was making my skin itch. His footsteps notify me that he follows.

“Did you happen to.. Uh.. Were you there when I..?” He trails off. I imagine him scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, yet I don’t turn around to see if its true.

“I saw.” I try to sound strong but it comes out weakly. I reach my bedroom, pulling open one of the dresser draws and grabbing an over sized jumper and a pair of fabric shorts. I tug the shorts up under my dress, hearing the bed creak as Shawn sits on it.

“It didn’t mean anything.” He says quickly that I barely catch it.

“Good to know.” I reply. “Can you unzip my dress?” I ask, putting my back to him.

“We were playing a game and that was the dare. I had to kiss her.” He says it in a way that just fuels my anger.

“Sure, Shawn.” I acknowledge the attempt to explain himself. “I don’t know why you need to tell me this- its not like you’re my boyfriend.” My voice comes out breathy, Shawn’s hand touching the skin of my back as I say this. His fingertips brushing down my spine until they reach the zipper located midway down my back.

“I would much rather be kissing you than her.” He twiddles with the zipper and I freeze, not knowing how to respond to this.

“Dress?” I ask shakily, my head consumed by the thought of Shawn. How close he was to me. How his knee bumped into my leg and how I could feel his breath lightly on my neck.

“Mm,” He hums, unzipping the fabric. I pull my self out of his grip and I chuck the jumper over my head quickly. “Funny.” he murmurs and my head shoots up to look at him.

“What?” I ask, putting my dress in the clothes hamper. 

“You’re wearing my jumper.” He states, gesturing to the khaki green hoodie. I nod, wanting to curl up in my bed and fall asleep.

“Well, we’ve had a good talk.” I say breezily, eyeing off my bed.

“You’ve barely said anything.” He argues, growing irritated. 

“What do you expect me to say?” I counter, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Did you hate seeing me kiss her?” Shawn asks and my jaw drops. 

“Okay that's enough for today-”

“Did you hate seeing my hands wrapped around her waist and having her body-”

“Stop-” 

“Pressed against my own and how her own hands were threaded in my hair-”

“I said stop-”

“Did you wish that was you?” His question hangs in the air. I don’t say anything. Neither does he. I hadn’t realized that while he was talking we both had moved closer to each other, few steps between us now.

My heart’s beating so fast in my chest that it makes me feel lightheaded. I nod feebly, giving up the idea that our friendship could potentially be ruined. 

“I wished that you were her.” He whispers, taking a step forward. I don’t move a muscle.

“Seemed like it.” I retaliate, anger bubbling just below the surface.

“I wished that you were the one I was kissing.” Another step forward.

“The one I was told to kiss.” Another step.

“For so long I thought that you only saw me a friend. I was scared to find out if that’s all you saw me as.” He’s inches away and if I wanted to I could reach out and touch his chest, feel the warm skin under my palms.

“I want to know now. I want to know if you feel things for me that best friends shouldn’t feel for each other.” His hand touches my chin and he tilts my head up and I meet his eyes, the warm brown a thin strip around his pupils. 

“Do you Y/n?” His voice is soft and I involuntarily lean into his touch.

“Hmm?” I ask, lost in his eyes and the sound of his voice. The voice that pushed out all rational thoughts.

“Are you in love with me?” My eyes are locked on the smooth skin of his bottom lip and I reply without thinking.

“I am.” I watch as his lips curve up into a smile- soon a grin that takes over his whole face.

“Good.” He reply's, his head moving slowly towards mine.

“Good?” I whisper, regaining some kind of thought process. 

“Yeah.” He smiles teasingly at me. “Cos I am too.” 

Then his lips are on mine and its like everything I thought it would be. I pull away for a second to breathe.

“I did wish that I was her.” I whisper against his mouth.

“Yeah,” He kisses me again, quickly before speaking again. “I don’t want to do that with anyone else but you. Not after I know how it feels to kiss you.”

#shawn mendes #shawn #mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes shirtless #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes stories #shawn mendes short stories #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fight #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes request #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes one shots #shawn mendes oneshots #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes drabbles #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #welldamnshawn

[darlinggod]

title: how was i to know (i was far too much in love to see) (AO3 link)

summary: There’s a perfectly rational explanation as to why Clarke doesn’t like Bree and Bellamy has nothing to do with it. She’s mostly sure. 

A/N: This is mostly fluff and pining!Clarke. I love only ever writing, like, one kind of fanfiction!

Bree is not exactly hard to like. She’s smart, if a little lazy. Her jokes are inappropriate, but she’s charming enough to pull it off. In theory, she sounds like someone Clarke might actually like. But, there’s just something off about her. Clarke can’t like her. Not for a lack of trying, she’s looked at it from every angle. Clarke finds herself thinking about it a lot. It’s like staring at a painting that’s technically sound and still getting repulsed by it. It’s driving her insane.

But, Bree is Bellamy’s… something. She should, at least, figure out what she doesn’t like about her. He’s her best friend and she’s gotten along with most of his hook-ups. Though, she has to admit, none of them have hung around him this long.

The point is, once she understands why she doesn’t get along with his... whatever she is to him (because there absolutely has to be a reason for it), she might be able to look Bellamy in the eye again without feeling like she’s doing something wrong and just barely getting away with it.

Raven is as sympathetic as Clarke expects she would be when she tells her about it at brunch.

“You can’t be serious.” Raven looks utterly unimpressed but she can’t be exactly sure if it’s a reaction to what she said or if it’s just her default mood. “Oh, my god, you are unbelievable,” she mutters under her breath. Okay, so it’s her, then.

Clarke shifts uncomfortably. “What?”

“Clarke.” Raven stops herself abruptly, biting her bottom lip. “Never mind,” she says and chugs the rest of her mimosa, instead.

She doesn’t push, knows she won’t like what Raven has to say. Clarke considers her words, instead. “Do you like Bree?”

Raven makes a non-committal noise. “She’s fine.”

“Just fine?” Clarke asks and feels hope sparking in her chest. If Raven doesn’t like Bree either, there’s hope she isn’t over-reacting.  

“Clarke, you know that it’s hard for me to like people. I barely know her,” Raven tells her and, she knows she’s right. Raven doesn’t take easy to anyone, except for Luna, maybe. But,she was in love with Luna almost immediately, so that doesn’t count.

She thinks of Bree, for what seems like the millionth time, and tries to make sense of all this, but she draws a blank. Instead, she finds herself thinking of the time she’d seen Bellamy’s arm wrapped around Bree’s waist and her grinning up at him. Her stomach feels like lead.

Clarke pokes at her salad with her knife, her appetite gone. “But, you know why I don’t.” The answer is buzzing at the back of her head. Clarke has every intention of ignoring it until she absolutely has no choice.

“I’m not interfering.”

Clarke doesn’t laugh at that but it’s a close thing. Raven’s the most meddlesome person she knows. If she were to make a list of every single inappropriate comment someone has made about her love-life—or lack thereof—, Raven would make most of it.

But she doesn’t feel like following that train of thought. “You hacked into my laptop yesterday!”

“Okay, first,” she says, holding up a single finger, “guessing that your password is your middle name is not hacking— “

“Hey, that’s genius. No one knows my middle name which, conveniently, also means that witches can’t put curses on me!”

“— Second,” Raven continues, ignoring her, which, fair, “you kept going on and on about you haven’t installed any anti-virus software in your new laptop yet, and it was driving me insane.”

“I was getting to it,” Clarke protests in a tone that suggests she was not, in fact, getting to it.

“You needed it too with all the weird porn you watch.”

“For the last time, I was dating Sterling at the time and he was into some weird things!” Raven makes a face. “It was one time!”

“One time too many,” Raven mumbles.

Clarke smacks her shoulder with a discarded napkin and Raven jabs her in her ribcage.

“Next time, I’ll let you catch the virus.”

“Well, I like it better when you meddle.”

There’s an extended silence. Clarke’s not talking about the computer anymore and Raven is both smart and a good enough friend to pick up on it.

“Fine,” she relents, “you’re jealous.”

There it is. The most obvious explanation to her troubles. She knows that if she digs enough, she’ll find it’s true. And that, unfortunately, also makes it the most problematic explanation.

“He’s my best friend,” she reasons weakly, “We’re not a thing.”

“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” her friend retorts, not unkindly.

“Yeah but I don’t have feelings…” she trails off. She can’t say that. Even before this whole thing, she could never say that. They were Bellamy and Clarke. She realizes, with an ungentle tug of her stomach, that she had always thought that it was going to be them in the end. She swallows and it hurts.

Her expression must be truly pitiful because Raven backtracks. “He’s your best friend. Maybe, you just don’t want to share him.”

“Maybe.” She knows Raven is lying for her benefit. But, Clarke feels like she’s lying too.

                                                 Millers and Boon

Miller

                                                                                                 Is bellamy dead???

No

What

                                                                                  Why are you texting me then

                                                                                                 It’s 3 in the morning

I’m working I can’t tell the time

                                                                  There aren’t any clocks in the hospital?

It’s how they keep us here

Wait why would I be the one telling you that bellamy’s dead

                                                                                      Idk you’re always together

                                                                           And youre his emergency contact

It makes perfect sense to have a doctor as your emergency contact

                                                                                                                       Right.

Fuck off

But seriously

Bree

(two attachments sent)

She looks like me doesn’t she?

                                                                                                         I guess I see it

                                                             But you also said bryan looks like bellamy

HE DOES

                                                                                                Ok Clarke whatever

                                                                      Wait you woke me up for this??????

I mean you didn’t have to wake up for a text

                                                                                                  I cannot stand you.

                                        Does this have anything to do with your feelings for him

…………..

Did you talk to raven

             you think raven is the only person who thinks you’re in love with bellamy

                                                                        jasper calls you guys mom and dad

yeah but we’re talking about real people

                                                                                            im going to bed clarke

tell your boyfriend I said hi

                                                                  im not relaying your existence to bryan

                                                   you made it too weird with the bellamy comment

YOU CANT HIDE FROM THE TRUTH NATHAN

                                                                                       Millers and Boon is offline

She feels bad when she invites her friends over for dinner the next day and it’s only half because she misses them. In truth, she needs a distraction. Clarke’s never been particularly good at feelings. And whenever she’s had them, they were short-lived, all-consuming and almost painful. But, with Bellamy, it’s— it’s all encompassing. It’s soft and sweet and makes her feel like she’s doing something right. It’s a feeling in her chest that she carries with her everywhere she goes. She knows what she feels, and she’ll be fucked if she lets him go because she’s too afraid to be happy.

When Bellamy shoots her a messing telling her that he’s on his way, she finds that she isn’t actually that afraid anymore. It’s always nice seeing Bellamy, Clarke decides, when he pokes his head into her apartment without knocking. It’s nice to see him when she’s upset, and when she’s excited, it’s even nice when she’s on the brink of admitting that she’s in love with him. If there’s only thing she can be sure of, it’s that she’ll always want to see him. His smile is the one she’ll most easily recognize. She’d know him from miles away. He sets her at ease.

“Hey.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder as he enters the apartment and absent-mindedly presses a kiss to her temple.

“Oh,” she says. I love you, she thinks. “You’re early.”

“Nice to see you, too,” he replies, a teasing lilt to his voice. You have no idea, she thinks. She gravitates towards him, smile growing on its own accord. Not a fucking clue. Bellamy smiles back with his whole body. His shoulders perk up and his eyes sparkles and her head feels like it’s clearing itself up, like the noise is leaking out. She’s starting to realize that he loves her too. In whatever way.

He drops onto the couch and she slots herself next to him, the way she always has. “I just didn’t realize you were going to be early.”

He shrugs. “I’m on time. Everyone else is just late.”

“You’ve been friends with us for years, you should know what ‘on time’ means.”

“Just because my friends are impolite assholes, doesn’t mean I have to be.” She sticks out his tongue at him and he rolls his eyes, but it’s all stained with fondness.

“Yeah, you’re just a regular asshole.”

“Run of the mill,” he agrees, deadpan. Clarke bites her bottom lip to stop herself from giggling. It was all fairly clear, in hindsight. He makes her forget herself. He makes her happy.

“Here.” He gets up abruptly and extends a hand to her. She raises an eyebrow. “Help me set the table,” says Bellamy. She snorts and lets him help her to her feet.

“I was going to do that on my own before you got here,” she says primly.

He snorts. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

Her whole body feel warm, her skin buzzing lightly. “I know.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. “I got you for that.”

They’re standing closely, and there’s a moment where she thinks he’s going to kiss her. But, he grabs the pizza boxes from the counter and sets them on the table instead. She sighs and sets out to search for the paper plates she hasn’t seen in weeks.

There’s a few minutes of easy silence. He gets the beer out of the fridge and she finally finds the paper plates in the cabinet next to stove she never uses. He even helps her clean up a little, dusting the countertops and picking up some of the garbage she had left lying around. He calls her a spoilt princess teasingly even though she knows it’s true and she calls him a dumb, helpful idiot, which rings, like, thirty percent true, at least.

“Hey,” he calls when the place looks – what she can only assume is—satisfactory to him, “Bree’s going to stop by to drop something off. Is that cool?”

A wave of hurt hits her. It starts at her stomach and she feels it constrict her insides. She’s surprised at how violent it is. How momentarily blinding. “Yeah,” she replies, not really looking at him. “Of course, it’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He laughs, not unkindly. “I didn’t think you really liked her.”

“That’s crazy,” she scoffs, but she sounds defensive to her own ears. “I don’t have a reason not to.”

“I just thought—“

“—Well, you thought wrong,” Clarke snaps.

Hurt flashes in his eyes and she regrets. The jealousy is immediately replaced with a vague sadness. She wants him to be happy. She would like him to be happy with her, but that’s secondary. That’s another unchangeable truth. But she can’t just stand there and pretend it’s all okay. She thought she was ready, but. She doesn’t think she’s strong enough. Maybe, just not yet.

“I have to go.” She doesn’t have the desire nor the energy to hide the breaking of her voice, or heart. She spins on her heel before she can do something even stupider like yell. Or cry.

“Wait,” he calls. She pauses long enough for him to catch her wrist. Her skin burns hot where he touches her. Her eyes burn. She burns. She turns to face him slowly, her heart thundering in her chest, and stares at the spot above his shoulder, still not daring to look at him. She’s sure he can feel her pulse, wild and erratic.

“Are you jealous, Clarke?”

Her first instinct is to laugh it off. Her second is to run for the hills. Maybe, that says something about her character. She does neither, which definitely says something about what he means to her. She risks a glance at him. His face is wide open, eyes as honest as she’s ever seen. His expression, she’s hopeful enough to call it longing. It hits her, for maybe the first time, that she wants him to know. That he might want to know.

She blinks. “Yes.”

His eyes widen, the grip on her wrist loosening. Her hands are shaking, her throat is dry. She only notices that his hands are shaking, too, when he slides it into hers.  

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” His voice is so soft, she’s half-sure she imagined it. Mostly, she finds herself settling into the revelation the way one might settle into their bed after a long, tiring day.

She feels relief and joy and she feels. More than she’s felt in a long time. She laughs, watery, and squeezes his hand. “I didn’t.”

He grins, a little crooked, a little shy. “Well, I am,” he says. He is beaming. She thinks she might explode, come undone. But she stays the way she is, and he looks at her the way he does. They are the same and they are in love.

“Oh.” I love you, she thinks. She tugs him closer, just because she can. “I love you, too,” she says.

He brushes her cheek with his thumb and she lets out a sigh so loud, it’s almost embarrassing. Almost. She gets on her tiptoes and kisses him then. He kisses her sweetly, and if he hadn’t said it before, she would’ve known that he loved her right there. She pulls away, places her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

“Bree?” she asks because, apparently, she’s the jealous type. He kisses her quickly and she giggles into it, coaxing a longer one out of him. He grins smugly

“We slept together once. She’s pretty cool so, we hang out.”

She smiles, resting her forehead against his. “You know, I think I see it.”

#bellarke #bellarkefanfiction #fluff #jealousy #me publishing this: and the 100 cast were at a con (oh my god they were at a con #the text convo looks awkward here but im exhausted

[kyoune]

a party for n(one)

the greatest tragedy, giles thinks, is that all of them are completely useless. byron thinks it’s the fruit punch. 

summary: a modern au drabble about the suitors throwing a party for their princess, and how they’d probably ruin it without giles there. some minor spoilers (regarding byron and nico) and implied mc/everyone

“We should throw a party.”

It is Leo who suggests it first, though this isn’t particularly surprising. Leo is always looking for some excuse, party or not, to avoid doing work - as is the case now, his half-finished paper dripping over his desk, begging to be finished before it inevitably succumbs to gravity. He pays it no mind and clicks his pen.

Giles’ forehead crinkles up, eyes concentrated on the dying paper. Amethyst burning into red eyes, he snaps back, words tuned like a death threat, “Finish your work first.”

As always, Leo ignores him, dismissing his reprimand with a wave of his hand and a devil-may-care smile. He continues, “Yeah, yeah. But you know, it’d be nice to surprise the “princess” for finishing her final exams.”

It’s not a bad idea, Giles has to admit, but it comes from Leo, so he’s tempted to decline. Speaking strictly from personal experience, anything that Leo thinks up is a red flag for disaster, though that wasn’t sufficient enough for him to turn down such an innocent suggestion. 

Fortunately, there was no need for that this time.

“With what money?” Alyn snorts, halfway stumbling down the stairs. He’s got a point, as well as a dumbbell and a cannister of protein powder in his hands. “If I remember right, a certain someone managed to spend it all on food and drink last time we were at the bar…”

Perhaps that little incident had slipped everyone’s minds, as immediately after it was spoken, the room went silent. The older Crawford scrunches up his face, expressing no more than a disappointed huff, back to the drawing board. He wheels around and faces the paper, forgetting for a moment that he indeed had an assignment to do (again), and then hastily wheels back, completing a full 360 spin on his chair. Leo Crawford is not done procrastinating. Yet. “Where is that guy, anyw - ”

“Aw, we can do that! I bet she’ll love it.”

Horribly off cue, Nico springs out from behind the couch, causing Alyn to drop his dumbbell and Giles to jolt in his seat. Leo, an experienced jump-scarer himself, merely widens his eyes, watching the two mutter curses at Nico under their breaths. Not that guy, Leo mentally notes.  

Only Louis is unfazed; sitting idly at the head of the couch, the blonde sips his tea and serves Nico a scowl of disgust. At this, the pink-haired boy pouts, drawing up his most dangerous weapon: the puppy-dog eyes. They don’t work.

“How did you even get in here?” He asks, taking yet another sip of his tea. Alyn moves towards him and waves the protein canister as an offer. Louis politely declines.

“The door was open.” Nico shrugs. “And money isn’t a problem! We can just ask Byron!”

Giles and Alyn are both about to open their mouths, asking how the hell would that ever be a good idea, that they shouldn’t borrow money from others, that -

But Nico is too familiar with scoldings - their narrowed brows and sharp inhales mirror the way Albert moves when he’s about to unleash a barrage of lectures on him. Without any pause, he strides over to the entrance and cuts them off with the most over-the-top sweep of his arm, yanking the handle and revealing the key to his plans.

The marbled doors give way to Byron’s intimidating stature, his chauffeur Albert at his side. Standing at 6’0, the young man exuded an aura of razor-sharp regality, as was to be expected of a CEO.

The tension, however, faded when the men realized he wasn’t moving. Or reacting, at all.

“Right Byron? Er… Byron?” Nico’s hype dies when his half-brother doesn’t respond, body frozen in the doorframe, face taut. Actually, upon closer inspection, he’s not even blinking. Is he even breathing?

Leo treads over, waves his hands in front of the CEO’s eyes. Nico joins in on his antics, blowing raspberries and removing his eyepatch (which Albert smacks out of his hand). Byron still doesn’t move.

“Uh, is he… you know…” Alyn makes a cutthroat gesture, “...dead?”

Albert answers him first, with his characteristic Glare (How Dare You Insult His Majesty Edition).

Before anyone else can jump to conclusions, another arrival saunters into the foyer, uninvited. It’s Sid, who shoves the Stein newcomers aside without a second thought, as if he’d somehow didn’t even see them on his way in.

“Oi, heard there was gonna be a party.” Grinning like he’d won the lottery, he takes in the dumbfounded faces around him and promptly realizes something is amiss. Throwing a glance (and his ponytail) over his shoulder, Sid finally notes the snarling Albert and definitely-not-a-statue of Byron leaning against the door.

Without missing a beat, the giant walks up to Byron, and flicks his forehead. Nothing changes, to which Sid chuckles.

“Aw, he’s sleeping with his eyes open? Cool.”

The comment seems to spark something in Albert, who is now frantically shaking Byron’s shoulders. Apparently, even Byron tires of his own childhood friend sometimes.

Nineteen minutes and five rounds of shaking later, the man finally comes alive. Blinking his grey eyes slowly, Byron’s movements are stilted, but firm, as if he were a buffering robot.

“Ah… good morning.” The greeting is spoken slowly, drawn out as its speaker shakes out the grogginess in his body. Beginning his stretches, Byron is halfway through a forward fold when the collective awestruck silence begins to dawn on him. He looks up, surveying the crowd, and arches a brow.  “What?”

“We are intending on setting up a party for the ‘princess’.” Giles, always the sensible one, explains, “However, we are short on funds, so we would like to ask for your assistance.”

“You know? The girl you’ve got a crush on?” Leo winks, and Giles wants to say ‘everyone does, everyone adores her. how could you not fall in love with her?’, but instead he holds his breath, keeps his mouth shut. This was to be a party, after all, not a battle royale. The image of nine, maybe ten men slaughtering each other with biting remarks and eyes set to kill (no actual violence, or so he hoped; all of them were gentlemen, weren’t they?) flashes briefly through his head, and he shudders.

There is silence, for a minute. Byron does nothing but furrow his brow by the slightest angle, immersed in thought, his expression neutral.

“God. This guy’s even more of a doll than you are.” Sid mutters rather loudly, nudging Louis, who snaps back “Don’t touch me.” 

It’s like this for a while; no one speaks, waiting for Byron’s reply with bated breaths, all except for Sid’s taunts and Louis’ “I’ll kill you. Do not speak to me ever again.”

“Okay,”  At last, the one word brings Byron back from his mini-reverie. “What do you need?”

All at the once, the room explodes into chants and requests, mostly unrelated to the event at hand. Alyn rattles off the names of fitness supplements and a gym membership, Leo whips out a list of difficult-sounding titles, Sid clicks his tongue and says, “Surprise me”, and Nico modestly asks for strawberry ice cream.

“For the party, gentlemen. For the party.” Giles sighs, fingers pinched around Louis’ collar, who has been trying to escape the room for the seventh time. Huffing, the blonde protests that he’s met his “Sid Tolerance Quota” for the day and needs to recharge. Now.

The tutor ignores him. “We’ll need fifteen watermelons and five pounds of cherries,” He begins, the pen in his hand beginning to work up a frenzy. The others stare at his handiwork with amazement, observing as the list fills, handwriting neat and organized, the Ts crossed and Is dotted. That is, all but one person.  

“What is this, a math problem?” Sid snipes, throwing an arm around Giles’ shoulder. This earns him the privilege of being the fourth person Giles has ignored today, and a seething “So, who will do the honor of going shopping?”

Eye contact never wavering, the tutor almost needs to drag the question to his lips, and there is murder in his voice. Sid instantly backs off.

“We’ll go. We got it.” Leo affirms, grinning as if he was now Giles’ Most Okay-est Friend.  

“We?” The younger twin repeats, incredulous in disbelief. Alyn is shaking his head so turbulently that he does not notice Leo’s steel grip on his left arm, dragging him to the entrance. Byron watches the two elbow each other out of the room.

“We should get started now.” Giles sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I agree,” Byron nods,  “We don’t have time to be sexy.”

The entire room freezes, allowing Bryon’s statement to ferment in an uncomfortable silence. Everyone looks to each other, a What? plastered to their faces. No one has any idea what he means, except for Albert.

“AHEM. I believe he means to say, ‘We cannot afford to stand around and look pretty.’” Albert clears his throat, clarifying Byron’s misspeak, “Anyhow, we will take care of the preparations outdoors.”

‘We will?’ Bryon mouths at Albert, head canted in bewilderment. A gloved hand gently tugs the perplexed CEO towards the backyard, attempting to relocate Byron before any more damage could be done. Nico trails close behind, skipping across the foyer to the glass doors, but does not leave without flashing the tutor an apologetic grin.

“Good luck!”

If he could, Giles would return the sentiment, but an earsplitting clang from the kitchen conveniently drains him of any hope in humanity.

“Thank you... I’ll need it.”

To everyone’s surprise (and Giles’ relief), the collaboration is quite peaceful. With each person assigned to a particular role, the preparations run smoothly, and the only discord that has occurred so far (it’s been twenty minutes) is the discovery that Louis is absolutely horrible at blowing balloons. Sid begins howling, Louis begins seething, and Giles has to force the two into duties located at the far ends of the dorm, or else they’d have a case of Louis “accidentally” strangling him.

When the twins return, Alyn has 9 bags of groceries strung down his arms, while Leo leisurely reads a brochure about the various types of apples, bare-handed. Hefting the load a few centimeters past the door, the weight proves to be too much of a strain, and the poor younger twin is shaking as the bags slide downwards.   

“Need help?” Leo laughs. Alyn gifts him a death glare, and through some newfound source of sheer force (probably Leo-hatred), manages to stumble five inches further into the living room. He trips.

Sid, wordlessly, passes by the fatigued knight and takes half his haul with ease. There are no crude remarks, no insults, not even an ounce of amusement; he’s completely silent, as if to say ‘You’re pathetic’ in his own Sid kind of way. Alyn sighs with relief when he’s out of sight, but when Sid returns, he scrambles to shoot him a ‘What the hell I totally could’ve done that myself’ look.

Sid sneers, his lips curled into a challenging smirk. Alyn replies with an almost quite realistic bark. The two immediately engage in a grocery weightlifting competition, much to Leo’s amusement, and Giles decides that oh, he really needs to go walk his dog or something (“You don’t even have a dog,” Louis remarks, from the back of the room) And by that, he means he needs to check on the Stein trio.

Outside is not much better.

Albert is stuffed into a "#1 dad" apron two sizes too big, and Nico darts about the yard like a child on a sugar rush. One minute, he's on his 8th try at hauling the bag of coal over, and the next he's behind Byron, tightening his matching "Kiss the Chef" apron.

It is obvious that no one in the Stein trio has ever cooked anything before. Bryon overcooks them, and Nico undercooks them, and Albert won't even touch the grill. Offended by Nico's offhanded "Hey, your hair matches the charcoal!" comment, the grumpy male had relegated himself to fruit punch stirrer, away from the likes of the younger boy and his annoying jests. He makes a horrible fruit punch stirrer, whatever that was.

"Albert, there's too many lemons in there."  

"Yes. I like lemon."

"The princess doesn’t."  

"I don't care what the princess likes."

"I care." Bryon interjects, dumping a basket of cherries into the mix. Giles opens his mouths, a protest at the ready, but the ardency Bryon has shown from the start stops him. For all the good intentions the party was thrown with, the kingly young man seemed to be the only one who didn’t give him a headache, disregarding the fiasco earlier.

Then, the doorbell rings.

"Welcome home!"

The cheer is disjointed; Led by Nico, half of it is shouted too early, and the other half echoes after. Somehow, Louis and Nico happen to welcome the princess first. Giles suspects Louis simply has fast legs, and Nico may have slacked off.

Alyn and Leo continue their game of elbowing each other all the way until the duo have shimmied to the front, Sid following close behind. The Stein trio shuffle in a few minutes late, and Bryon affectionately waves to her with his spatula.

Though the banners are angled awkwardly, the music scratches with radio static, and the twins can’t seem to stop jabbing at each other, the effort pulls a smile to her face. Even if it were only to be polite, the princess laughs, and rewards their work with a humble bow.

"Wow... I don't know what to say... but um... is something burning?”

author’s notes: i love seeing the suitors interact because it usually ends up with some really funny moments. also since it is an otome game we see more of the princess’ relationship with the suitors than ones between themselves so i wanted to explore this a bit? Yeah

so as you can tell, i am horrible, horrible with dialogue. sorry if it’s choppy as well! I have to leave for university in a few days, so i wanted to get this out as fast as possible, which means i had to rush it quite a bit. I may or may not try to re-write this better later orz. forgive me.

notes about the au: i know there’s already a modern version of MidCin but this was like college-au-ish. the wysteria boys all live in one dorm with the “princess” (it’s more of a codename than a title or her real name) and the stein trio & their cryptid robert live in a richer dorm down the street, and rayvis has his own apartment next to the stein trio. robert used to have his own place but he partied too hard and got kicked out. Byron is a CEO of a major company and Albert is his right-hand man, as always. also yeah everyone has a crush on the mc but only giles and sid are aware of this… we’ll see how that goes sometime else…

sorry for the spiel (and for the lack of robert and rayvis, i just couldn’t figure out what to do with them)! thank you for all the warm reception on my previous works too, i’m super happy that you enjoy them! ♡

#midnight cinderella #midcin #cybird #dude ive been pronouncing byron's name wrong all this time #anyways im so tired and its 2am plz send help #zzzzzz #i'll edit some grammar and formatting/typo mistakes in the morning

[honestgrins]

Inhuman || Klaroline

Klaroline Infinity Day 6 - Other Supernatural

Klaus is almost ready to break his curse, but he refuses to do so without Katerina finally doing her part. She has managed to elude him so far with the help of various allies, but the latest distraction proves to be far more interesting to Klaus.

"Funny," Klaus noted with a smirk. "Katerina usually prefers to employ male cannon fodder."

The little blonde merely stood before him, unafraid. She didn't even bother to reply. Her head canted to the side as she watched the Original draw closer to the door of his hotel room, where she had been waiting.

It was something of a game for Klaus in his hunt to break the curse restraining his wolf, to allow Katerina Petrova's various pets enough of a fight to be fun for him. The werewolf from whom she had stolen the moonstone lacked the strategy of battle; the vampire brothers she bounced between were too busy competing for her favor to put up a decent showing. Even Elijah was easily a pawn to the wily doppelganger, though at least daggering him was an actual challenge.

This girl, however, smelled young. Klaus couldn't sense any power, as he could on a vampire, wolf, or witch. Humans were often too stupid to realize the danger he posed, but they could still feel a frisson of unease in his sheer presence. She seemed almost serene.

But he had gone to great trouble in collecting the necessary ingredients to break his curse. Not using Katerina as his vampire sacrifice would be such a waste. He had followed her trail to a small college campus where blood and sex were easy to come by - her favorite habitat. Unable to draw her out from hiding, Klaus left hints of his arrival through well placed rumors and the occasional murder of a curly-haired brunette.

Katerina sent a message of her own: bleeding sorority girls appearing twice a day at his hotel room door, none of whom held any recollection of the bitch. Compulsion was a favorite of hers, he supposed. Well fed, he had no problem playing the long game as long as she stayed in town.

Then he found her witch.

"Did you know the Bennett girl?" Klaus asked teasingly, daring to brush the blonde curls from the strange woman's face. "I figured the grandmother was the draw for Katerina, all that knowledge and disdain for us Originals, but the girl… Oh, she had power." He gave a wicked smirk at the twitch in her otherwise impassive expression. "To die so young."

"At least it was quick," she replied hoarsely. "I won't thank you for snapping her neck, but I can be grateful she didn't suffer."

It was a small mercy, one of expedience rather than any real remorse. Klaus needed Katerina to retaliate, giving her an opportunity to make the mistake he needed to finally capture her.

The blonde waiting for him in front of his door as he returned from killing the Bennetts had been an odd form of retaliation, but he wasn't complaining.

Letting his fingernail drag down the skin of her neck, Klaus watched her curiously. "You don't seem like the type to have seen much suffering, love." He dug his nail in deeper, bringing her blood to the surface. When he expected to feel hunger at the scent on her skin, however, he frowned at the utter lack of desire to rip open the pulsing vein. Even after a thousand years, Klaus had never felt such apathy at the sight of human blood.

Human blood.

"What are you?" he hissed, pushing her up against the wall. Mikael-induced paranoia aside, it was the unknown threat that kept Klaus ever vigilant to his status in the supernatural world. He always knew the enemy he was up against, and he didn't like that Katerina had managed to find a weapon he never knew existed. Shoving the girl back harder, he yelled it in her face. "What are you?!"

His fingers pressed into her flesh, only to feel her shoulders expand with sharp spines biting into his hands. He let go immediately to jump back, and he watched in confusion as her skin slowly receded back to her bare shoulders. For a moment, he would have sworn her shoulders had puffed like a blowfish. "What are you?" he repeated more softly.

Standing straight, she walked toward him proudly to poke a sharp talon in his chest - literally, a bird's talon right where her index finger should be. "I'm not a what, I'm a who," she snapped. "My name is Caroline Forbes, and you don't scare me."

"But Katerina must if you do her bidding," he countered.

Caroline rolled her eyes and gestured for him to open the door to his hotel room. "Are you going to let me in, or what?"

"Why are you here? I don't negotiate with the help."

"I hear you don't negotiate at all," she pointed out humorlessly. "Look, you killed my friend. I think that buys me a frank conversation about what the hell you're doing on my campus and chasing after the one person left in the world who cares about me."

Just curious enough not to kill her outright, Klaus nodded as he swiped the key card to his door and led her inside. "Katerina Petrova cares for no one but herself."

"Katherine Pierce saved me," Caroline answered hotly. "Hate her all you want, but I don't want to see her dead for some shit that happened five hundred years ago. God, get a grip."

Anger flared within Klaus, and he clenched his fists in rage. "For the last time," he gritted out, "what are you, and why are you here?"

Curious or not, his patience had its limits.

Caroline scoffed as she made herself comfortable on the couch. "You're like a billion years old, right? Surely, you've heard of mutants from time to time."

"I have," Klaus nodded in realization. "But as witches and werewolves pass down their genetic traits to manifest in predictable ways, mutants seem to defy logic and reason of current science."

With an almost imperceptible shudder, Caroline met his eyes with hers blazing. "Yep, we're all just freaks for people to write off or use for science. Geez, no wonder Kat hates you."

"Someone's projecting," Klaus commented, shrewdly noting her aversion to the scientific aspect of her situation. "I assume Katerina rescued you from some dreadful experimentation."

Caroline hardened, her skin almost turning into stone as he watched. "I'm what they call a 'survivor,' practically immortal because my cells can somehow mimic animal adaptations. My father trained me to use this power at will, since I was a young child who scared the local swimming hole by staying underwater for too long. Instead of drowning like they feared, I just grew gills. I thought Dad was teaching me to protect myself from a world that would only love me if I could fit in."

Though he didn't want to, Klaus felt an odd kinship with the young woman lost in her memories.

"But he didn't want to protect me, he just wanted me to be strong enough." Klaus could hear her teeth grinding. "I needed to be strong enough to withstand the real work performed by the Augustine Society. He was a founding member of this 'scientific research group' meant to extort genetic abnormalities for whatever findings could improve life for the 'normal' people, only to find out he had a mutant freak for a daughter himself. All my life, and he just wanted me as a test subject."

Klaus knew what it meant to be held against his will, even by his own mind when the hunter's curse had taken hold of him. "Were you alone?" He didn't like the thought of that.

"Not even in my abilities." Caroline chuckled, though it sounded sad. "Armando Munoz," she said reverently. "He was my friend. He tried to save me, and they annihilated every cell in his body just to prove that they could. Even at absolute zero, our bodies were able to survive like we were in a deep hibernation. The last time they put him in the freezer, they tested his ability to adapt without molecular movement. He couldn't."

Standing, Caroline began to pace the room and Klaus tracked her movements carefully. "I was going to be next, but Kat swooped in killed them all in a blink. I didn't even know vampires existed, let alone all the cool tricks you get."

"Some would call your abilities 'cool tricks,'" Klaus said, considering what she had shared. "Absolute zero. It's not very sporting to tell me how to kill you."

"They did it in the name of bettering the human condition, despite the inhuman depravity their science required," Caroline spat. "Even you're not that cruel."

With a dark smile, Klaus stood to crowd her space, though she didn't cower to him. He liked that. "You'd be surprised, love. I did kill your friend, after all."

"In a mostly painless way," she countered. "You still had shit reasons to do it, but you don't pretend you're anything less than the evil you are. The Augustine Society thought they were the good guys."

Klaus leaned forward, mere inches from her face as he regarded her cool expression. "If your enemy is already dead, then why are you here fighting Katerina's battle? Surely, you've earned a bit of rest. Travel, perhaps? Rome or Paris; Tokyo is nice this time of year."

Scoffing, Caroline pushed away from him. "My bag is already packed," she admitted. Klaus frowned as her legs seemed to disappear into the decorations of his room. "I'm not here to fight you, Klaus. I just had to keep you occupied long enough for Kat to leave the country. Did you know the cuttlefish can blend almost perfectly with its surroundings in the ocean, the camouflage is unmatched in the animal kingdom."

He gripped her arms, even as they too disappeared within his firm hold. Klaus could feel her flesh and the pumping of her blood, but even his vampiric senses could barely see her. "Do you really think I'll just let you go?"

"Do you really think you have a choice?" she challenged before a second set of arms suddenly appeared from behind her still visible torso and snapped his neck.

When Klaus awoke, he found himself utterly alone and thirsting for something even greater than his vengeance against Katerina.

He wanted Caroline Forbes and the challenge she presented.

#klarolineinfinity #klaroline drabbles #klaroline #my writing #round and round

[t-urbulence]

you know.... with all said and done... there’s not a single thing I’d change about the ending of Vale. it’s really how it was supposed to end. and once again, if you have any plans of reading it do not read this post cause im going to literally spell out the ending okay. this was especially a warning to my sister x)

so im not exactly good at character development but i am good at relationship developments which might be weird like if i know how to do one thing how cant i know how to do the other... but oh well i dont want to lament more on that i just really like how i did the relationships in the story though not so many of them change.

morlene and vale don’t change too much but i feel like everything that was going to happen between them happened before the story. they weren’t going to love each other any more after anything that happened in the story. morlene’s last words to vale are “i love you, i don’t regret anything” but they weren’t brought on by character growth, she said them because it was her last chance to reassure vale that she shouldn’t feel guilty about anything.

cephas’ character doesn’t really have time to change in a nuanced way though id like to think i gave his moments of growth enough motivation. sure he gets dragged into this whole mess by a complete stranger but the biggest step for him is when he almost causes his and vale’s death by getting themselves tangled up with vera talbot. that’s when he shows vale his house (and when in reac vale tells him her name so that’s a twofer right there). but he and vale are inseparable long before they find out who they are. after all, vale gives up her plans to move to the mainland to help him (not even to save him because at this point cephas isnt even in danger) and then sweet cephas who looks so awkward with a weapon and whose custom-made switch-sword has never seen blood kills, gruesomely, just to get to vale.

cephas and morlene are kind of on the same wavelength and if you think about it, morlene not telling her two best friends about her role in the rebellion just so she wouldn’t interrupt their personal shenanigans is very in-line with how cephas used to be so inward that he never had a single friend in thirty years of his life. and in the end they’re in very similar situations too. cephas lost his sister and morlene lost her love, and though mason will miss vale too, they’re the only two people who feel that way because mason’s love for vale is quite different.

now, mason is the character thats the most alike in both worlds and even though we only see the ending of mason #2′s character arc i can pretty much tell you it’s very similar in both worlds.

mason’s character development also kicked off long before the story started. her journey leads from deciding to be part of the very thing she’s trying to stop just so she can work from close to the fire and eventually end the royal guard’s rule and save the people. the very people who she’s forced to hurt and the very people that don’t know and can’t know that she’s doing all this for them. was there a better way to help them? angel would probably say there was, after all they were a royal witch at one point too but left when they saw what they were being used for.

but in the same time, in the other world the other angel pretty much spells out that they stayed in the guard and helped that way. so clearly, there are situations where that seems like the only option.

so mason’s journey leads from having to work from the shadows to being able to take control from the royal guard and being able to stand in front of the people of caelmoor and telling them exactly how shits gonna fly from now on. to finally be able to communicate with the people and prove to them that she only ever wanted to help. i love her speech so much (i know i wrote it x)) because it’s just so Mason. She doesn’t talk like Zavier used to hold his speeches. She curses, calls Zavier a dickhead, she’s done with having to appear one way when she’s the other.

"This is a democracy," she bellows over a wind-swept land. "And I'm not a king. I'm a guard. My council is guards, scientists, architects, mechanics, engineers, and civilians."

Here we go, I think with childish excitement, compelled to physically rub my hands together.

"And as such, we don't need a castle," Mason says, and I can see from where I sit that she raises both hands in the air.

At her cue, what I assume must be dozens of people standing by the ends of mile-long ropes, drop the tarps covering the mountainside to reveal the high castle, the mountainside, and the entirety of the lower castle covered in scaffoldings from top to bottom and side to side.

"We don't need marble statues," Mason yells and movement starts behind her as a squad of carts ride out from the castle yard, packed full of stuff. I can't see that from this far but it's pretty obvious what's happening. "We don't need golden chandeliers. We don't need velvet curtains, leather armchairs, crystal windows, platinum, silver, diamond, we don't need any of that crap!"

Along with the row of carts riding at walking speed from the castle along the set path, a group of people start following them on foot, each holding an instrument, playing music, marching enthusiastically by the rally that I can hear even without loud speakers.

"The new building will be enough for us to govern the island from, but we'll tear this whole place down bit-by-bit over the next few weeks and sell all of our precious white stone to the mainland if that means every citizen of Caelmoor gets to live in peace and prosperity. I'll tear the whole mountain down if I have to before dooming another person to death because the king likes his castles high, welcome to the fucking parade!"

Loud bumps in the loud speakers and what little movement I can make out imply that Mason literally kicked over her microphone stand as her last words are drowned out by deafening screams and cheers from all over downtown.

what an icon.

and bitch. think of that. before this part she says the landfill in the shanty town will be filled up and the residential cemetery will be extended so nobody has to toss their loved ones in a hole anymore. just imagine the catharsis this woman felt when she realised she can finally do this. i realise that if this was a famous book a lot of people would probably immediately draw parallels between shit like X-Men like “she was just following orders” or whatever but she was saving people. she really was. a lot more people would’ve died if someone else is guard commander instead of mason. yes it sucks and you can blame her, vale did too, but she did the only thing she had the chance to which was minimising casualties.

so thats mason. her main relationship arc is just with the general population of caelmoor. she also has a problem with vale’s neutrality in the beginning which is why they broke up in the first place. when morlene moves the rebellion forward and use it as an opportunity to save cephas and mason tells vale to pick a side finally, she answers “you would be surprised”. thats their growth moment.

now, we covered that morlene doesnt (need to) change much, and that cephas changes in that he finally finds his people. vale warns him not to get stuck in another cage (first his mansion, then ecklehold, then his mission to find a way back to vale) and he’s not. i also love it when he insists that he gets to say goodbye to vale though its at a really unfortunate time. but thats pretty much the first selfish thing you see him do in the whole story and thats vale’s influence.

and how vale changes is also cephas’ influence. they muse quite a bit about how they’re supposed to be the same person and how thats weird because theyre so different but i dont think theyre that different at all, their lives just started in different ways that brought different sides of them. cephas was brought up by neglectful parents who then “left him” completely, of course he grew into an adult all on his own, became a thief and lived in a house all by himself. vale grew up in a loving family even if they were assassin grandparents and sort of absentee parents. she was trained to be social, a chameleon, a conwoman, and extrovert, fit to adapt to any situation.

but whether they’re technically twins, or literally the same person but just different genders, it really doesnt matter. cephas makes vale laugh the first time they meet, then vale reads cephas like an open book later that very same day. they joke and mess around like old friends do when vale is still debating whether she shouldve saved the guy in the first place and cephas has no idea why caelmoor’s most famous assassin would take a liking to him. why anyone would. they just have this instant connection and they open up parts of each other through what they share with each other of themselves after all the traumatic shit that happens to them.

so vale... a thousand identities and faces she shows to the people she uses to get what she wants, tries (and fails) to keep a distance from the only person she ever truly loved then this loser shows up in her life and she realises life can be just like that. you can have friends and its normal. towards the endgame shes at a point where she would rather die than to be separated from them. and then she is.

despite promising cephas that she would live she spends the next few weeks of her new life in her old world preparing to die. when she goes to see zavier #2 before his execution she goes there with the intention to die. she spent her whole life preparing to kill zavier and now she would free him and let him live if it only meant she gets to die. 

"This door leads outside, behind Ecklehold where the stands can't see. I have a bunch of smoke bombs in my bag, you can evade the guards before they know where to look for you. There's a boat by the residential docks that will take you to the mainland. You can disappear and start a new life, just like you planned before. I can give you about seventy-five silvers but I expect you know how to fend for yourself."

I haven't spoken this much since I made the deal with the damn boatman, and boy, my throat is sore.

For a few seconds Zavier can only look at me in disbelief, his wrists held slightly together like he hasn't noticed that I cut him loose.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I need something from you in return," I say and turn the pistol around, so the handle is facing Zavier. "You have to kill me."

The guards outside have started to look for which route Zavier could've take and it's only a matter of seconds before they try getting in here. They might think it's just a locked door so they might not dedicate a whole squad to getting it open but they will get it open.

Zavier looks at the gun then back at me, his forehead wrinkling above his eyebrows.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because they won't do it," I snap at him, but I can't keep my facial muscles from spasming. "And I can't do it. And somebody fucking has to."

Zavier exhales a gentle oh and puts one hand on the handle and another one on my hands. His fingers envelope mine and I can't let go. He keeps eye contact, his light blue iris drawing my glance to him like a magnet, and his dreadful coldness creeps into my head and burns me from the inside.

"Too bad, Vale Callaghan," he whispers, his face so close and his voice so overwhelming to my senses I can no longer see the room around us. "Nobody can save you now."

(in my brain, by the way, patrick warburton is zavier x)) if zavier takes the gun from her and shoots her she wouldnt fight to survive. she wants him to finish it. but then he doesnt and shes now forever doomed to live. even mason #2 acknowledged that being left alive is a punishment for her. so what does vale do? the vale that was asked a thousand and one times to just stay with her friends and the vale that chose to walk away every time. she actively and willingly asks for help, the most selfish thing she can imagine to do as undeserving as she thinks she is of any help. she goes to morlene #2 and tells her everything. and when morlene #2 inevitably asks her to stay because even though theyre different people she’s still morlene, she stays.

and she’s going to be okay.

initially the ending of vale included vale being able to see and talk to cephas every time the blightning happens and the gate opens for a bit even if they cant cross over to hug and stuff. but then i wanted to be cruel(er) and decided celia and eamon would totally invent a way to stop the beacons from creating a gateway, so it does. the fact that the lunar bronze, the same material the beacon is from can cross over the gate was absolute bullshit from my part and its kind of just a reward i wanted to give vale for finally learning her lesson, to not hate herself for letting people help her.

also i really love that she doesnt just stay an assassin in the new world but she also finds a job at tulip’s store AND offers to train the new guard :’D 

oh tulip. speaks the best line in the whole story. he’s the only man i trust.

"I give advice, here," he says and leans in close, almost having to stand on his tiptoes. His breath stinks of spices. "Morlene tell me other world and Caelmoor. Same people but other people."

"You really have this whole multiverse theory down, don't you?"       

"If other Caelmoor Tulip is Tulip, you go find Tulip you ask for help. He help. Ask him to no questions, he will no questions. You are no lonely."

This is literally the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

"Thanks, man," I pat him on the shoulder. "Stay sharp, yeah?"

"Ahha!" he laughs while doing the finger guns at me. "I see you did there!"

"Because you have a blade sharpening business?"

"Very smart!"

#sorry for the word vomit #vale* #mediocre young adult writer problems #long post for ts