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lunarmessenger · 3 years

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RFA Dating Asexual MC - RFA, V, + Saeran

request sent in by @engel-katze . this is for you, angel!

DISCLAIMER: I myself am NOT asexual and I can’t convey the broad spectrum that is asexuality. If any of my followers are asexual and feel like this does not represent them at all please let me know and I will adjust it to the best of my ability. I would hate to misrepresent anybody, and I want to make sure you all are seen and heard as accurately as possible. I love you. - luna xx

warnings: some sexual themes, but nothing too crazy.

Zen:

• He’s taken by surprise for sure

• He doesn’t understand it at first; he thought that maybe you just weren’t ready to go all the way with him yet, and he respected that

• But one night the both of you were exchanging kisses here and there and his hands started to wander and you could see his expression getting darker with need

• So you shoved him off of you and onto the floor

• “MC I’m so sorry I should have known that you weren’t ready yet I—”

• He isn’t hurt at all by your pushing away he just wants to understand

• And so you explain to him that it’s not...personal per say

• You thought that he was very handsome and if you could, you would absolutely jump his bones every second

• Though he’d never tell his ego was nice and fluffed by that reassurance

• But the thought of the act of having sex (with anybody, not just him) made you physically sick and he never made you feel bad about it once; if anything he was happy that you were communicating

• The two of you discuss maybe alternatives or different ways to both have that sexual release with each other, without any sort of act of intercourse involved so that it wouldn’t negatively effect you.

Yoosung

• His self esteem took a rather hard hit for sure

• He thought that you didn’t even romantically like him and didn’t know how to tell him otherwise

• One night his hand was on your thigh and he started softly running his hand up and down

• You looked away from the television to look at him, noticing how his brows were furrowed from nerves as he looked at you.

• “Yoosung...?” Your voice was anxious and he could tell, but he thought that maybe if he just tried a little harder; made the first push.

• He kissed you once, and then gently placed you in his lap, and as you sat there you could feel his lower region beginning to harden

• “Oh, oh God no wait—” You hurriedly pushed yourself off, standing away from him across the coffee table as his face fell

• “Is...is it me? Am I not attractive enough? I know that I’m not rich like Jumin, or as toned and attractive as Zen, but...” His eyes started to fill with tears and you instantly felt your heart sank

• “No! Oh, God Yoosung no please...” You hurriedly ran to his lap and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in yours

• You tried your best to explain what it was and why you didn’t really want to have sex with him

• He was so relived that he cried

• He’s lowkey okay with it because while, he’s never experienced sex and he knows that he wants to have sex and experiences sexual attraction

• He’s too anxious about his performance in the bedroom to do anything anyway; he just tried initiating things because he thought that’s what you wanted

Jaehee

• Not even phased lmao

• You’d decided to tell her one night after work when the two of you were exhausted and you just blurted it out

• “I...I’m asexual, Jaehee. I don’t...I don’t feel sexual attraction.”

• “....okay.”

• That was literally it

• You were actually a little pissy that she reacted so calmly; since that’s not the reaction you usually get

• She honestly didn’t care if you wanted to have sex or not; if anything after you’d explained to her what it was she herself thought that that might be her sexuality too

• She has always been romantically attracted to women, but when it came to sex for either gender she just felt...like it was pointless. No need.

• “I think I was able to take it so easily MC is because, well, I think I am too.”

• You were okay with that. More than okay with that.

Jumin

• It was hard enough for Jumin to get a better understanding of his own emotions

• You didn’t want to overwhelm him with your sexuality, especially because of how rare it was

• One night the two of you were in bed, his hands wandering over your body as you two kissed

• You weren’t fully comfortable but you figured maybe, just maybe you could do it. For him.

• That didn’t work well at all

• “Are you sure, MC?”

• “Yes, Jumin. Go ahead.”

• “...Then why are you crying?” You hadn’t even realized until he said it, shaking your head softly as you sniffed

• “Don’t worry about it okay? Just..are you almost done?”

• “MC.” He was concerned and a little hurt, immediately pulling away as he turned on the bedroom lights

• You covered your naked body and immediately began to sob, Jumin holding you close as your body shook from how hard you were crying

• “I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry with me. I...I’m asexual, Jumin. I can’t do it I can’t—”

• “Shh, MC it’s alright. It’s okay. I just wish you’d told me sooner, darling...”

• After that night Jumin tried his best to make sure he didn’t cross any boundaries

• If he wasn’t working on paperwork from his job he was reading a book on asexuality and researching it, just to make sure he knew the ins and outs of a rather important part of you

707

• He thinks you’re joking at first when you tell him the poor idiot

• He knows that asexuality is rare and so he figured it was just another sort of prank or joke that you were trying to pull

• To be fair you were rather nonchalant about it because you figured it was important he know and that he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like others have in the past

• So he freaks out when out of nowhere he shoves his hands down your pants with a cheeky giggle while you guys are play fighting and you immediately scream and bite his shoulder

• And I mean bite it like you drew blood from how hard you bit this man

• “Ah! MC, what the hell?!”

• “I should be asking you that! What is your problem? Don’t stick your hand down my pants you asshole!”

• You immediately ran out of the living room and slammed the bedroom door behind you, feeling embarrassed and a little violated by your own boyfriend

• While he hurriedly tends to his shoulder to stop the bleeding his mind immediately drifts back to the conversation you’d had with him towards the beginning of the relationship

• He literally wants to kms he’s so mad at himself

• He figured you two hadn’t had sex yet because you were just trying to take it slow; after all it’d only been a few months

• Now he understands

• He gave you time to calm down and after about an hour he reaches out to you

• He fiercely apologizes and promises that he will educate himself better and take you more seriously

• Like Jumin he’s not really familiar with the term itself

• So when you bring it up to him he’s a little embarrassed to ask so many questions to clarify what that meant for the two of you

• “Essentially, you don’t feel sexual attraction? Like when you look at me, or anybody else who you want to have sex you just don’t feel the need to?”

• “In a way, yeah. Every person who is asexual is different, but that’s how I feel about it. I personally can have sex with you I just... I won’t really want it and I don’t need it.”

• Still a bit confused but he respects your boundaries, always

• “Okay, MC. Thank you for letting me know.”

• He’s never been in a relationship like this before, and his last one was a complete train wreck

• But he’s trying

• You both establish boundaries with one another when it comes to intimacy; what he’s comfortable with and what you’re comfortable with

• It was a bit rough and took a lot of adjusting but with patience and progress the two of you ended up with a healthy and happy relationship

Saeran

• “You’re what?”

• He really isn’t trying to be an asshole, he just genuinely is surprised and confused

• He’s still dealing with his emotional and physical trauma that he went through from his childhood and Mint Eye

• The idea of having sex and being intimate with you was the last thing on his mind and you were okay with that

• At first he thought that your sexuality had something to do with your upbringing and trauma and he thought you two would be able to relate

• While you didn’t have the easiest childhood, that wasn’t why you were asexual. That’s just...the way you were. You always have been asexual you were just born that way.

• “So it’s like when you’re gay? Or bisexual?”

• “Yes precisely.”

• He understands a lot more now and he tries his best to educate himself and keep himself in line

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #414

“mirror, mirror, tell me who you see / am i you or me? / i can never remember”

How many people have you kissed? Four. Ever kissed someone you weren’t dating at the time? No. Of the people you’ve kissed, how many do you regret kissing? Two. Ever been kissed by a legal adult when you were a minor (or vise-versa)? Yeah, with Jason, but it was only a two-year difference. Ever kissed someone on a dare/as part of a game? No. Where’s the most public place you’ve ever made out with someone? Nowhere public. I wouldn't do that. Can you snowboard? Never tried. Have you ever made a mixed cd for someone? No. Do you use recycle bins at your house? Yes. Do you own more than one bathing suit? No. Have you ever kissed someone who smokes weed? Jason did occasionally with his best friend, but he stopped for me. How are you right this second? I'm all right. Last night was pretty rough, so I'm just glad that's over. My body is just tired. Is there anything you disliked about your last birthday? Honestly, I barely remember what I did on my last birthday. I just remember it was fine. Oh wait, actually, on the way home from going out to eat, we had to call the cops while behind a car whose driver was obviously drunk or high OFF. HIS. ASS. He was swerving like crazy and almost hit SO many cars. I was having an absolute panic attack. I pray to God that guy was more than just found and fined. Do you keep a diary or journal (offline or online)? No, unless you count surveys, I guess. What were you like a year ago? I was the unhappily the same. Is someone on your mind right now? Fucking always. Having a warm dream about him last night didn't help. Who was the last person you sat next to? My mom. What do you currently hear right now? My screen is split so I can watch John Wolfe play some indie horror games. What’s something you need to go shopping for? I need to get new bras baaaadly because I'm tired of none fitting properly. What’s the last thing you ate? I had a donut 'cuz Mom stopped at Dunkin' for coffee. Do/did you do good in school? I did up to college. Then I just... sucked. Do you always get along with your siblings? I mean I don't see/talk to them every day or anything, not even very regularly even, but we generally get along fine now as adults. We disagree about shit for sure, but keep our mouths shut. Or probably talk to Mom about it while I'm not present. I don't even think they like me half of the time. Are you frustrated with anything? So much. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? There were/are a lot of factors. Just she as a person is phenomenal. What’s your younger sibling’s name? Nicole. Can you speak in a different language conversationally; if so, which language? A tiny bit of German. Do you ever fear of falling asleep? With my nightmares, I used to dread it. Now, thankfully, my APAP mask has prevented them from happening, mostly; I've only had two in the month that I've had it, and I ordinarily had them every single night. Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? I do, but I honestly doubt I'm going to succeed in even making it a part-time job by this damn point. Which beach would you say is your favorite? I don't have a favorite. I don't even like the beach very much. What kind of cookie is your favorite? Chocolate chip. Have you ever had a churro? Yes. Too crunchy and ridiculously sweet, not a fan. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? A good personality beats good looks any day. How is/was your chemistry class in high school? I actually didn't take chemistry; my graduating year, physical science was offered as the alternative, which I took. How does alcohol affect you? I get hot, and my face flushes badly. It'll make me more talkative. Have you ever tried lemon brownies? No, and I don't want to. I don't like lemon-flavored stuff like that. What was the last type of meat you ate? Beef. Have you taken any medication today? I have prescriptions I take every day. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? I've seen some of it at Sara's house. What is your favourite kind of pasta? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs, really. I've been on a major chicken pesto kick lately, though. Have you set an alarm today? No. Think of a random person, and give them a message here, no names: Literally just the chance to say "I'm sorry" would be fucking amazing. Just two fucking words. What if there were two of you? Would the world be in trouble? No. That'd be a waste of space, though. Not like I'm contributing much to society. Would you prefer an ice cream sundae or an ice cream cone? I dunno man, it depends on my mood and what I want in the moment. Do you watch movies with the subtitles on? No; I find it to be distracting. Is the last person you kissed yours? I hate this saying. She's her own person that belongs to nobody but herself. But to just go along with it and answer the question, no, we're not together. Do you think you will be married by the time you are 25? Welp, I'm halfway through 25, so. Do you have siblings over the age of 21? All of my siblings are. Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? No. Especially as I've aged, I'd say I'm pretty quick to accept if I've fucked up. Who has the ability to hurt you the most emotionally? Jason will probably always have that power, even if he's not in my life. Would you ever be a stripper? God no, nobody wants to see that. What are your plans for tomorrow? Just get through the day, man. Do you owe anybody money? No. How would your parents describe you? Reserved, shy, a deep thinker, animal lover, uhhhh... What is the most you have ever weighed? Let's not. Would you ever work at McDonald's? No. I'm never working in food service. If you aren't already, would you go vegetarian or vegan? I want to be a vegetarian and being a vegan would be perfectly ideal for me, but I really don't think I can healthily accomplish either. I am FAR too picky to where I'd almost definitely become malnourished. To make it even worse I absolutely cannot "suck it up" if I don't like a food, so it's not like I could choke down stuff I don't like. Not to mention I'd be pretty sad without any yummy food to look forward to, aha. Coolest person you've ever met? Uhhhh I don't know. Do you wear boxers? No. Girls, how old were you when you first learned how to put in a tampon? I don't remember. Would you ever attend a gay pride parade or festival? I would absolutely love to. Did you see Paranormal Activity 2? I think I've seen all of the movies. I liked them, given paranormal horror films are probably my fave. What would you do if an old man grabbed your ass? Kick him in the fucking balls so goddamn fast and probably slap him across the face at the same time. Probably cry later from feeling violated and having my fear of men aggravated. Do you like moustaches? It depends on the person, but I'd say I generally prefer an attached beard and a mustache versus JUST a mustache. Could you hack into someone's computer if you tried hard enough? No. I have no idea how to do that. Have you ever smoked a cigar? No. Do you go out on Black Friday? Hell no. NOT worth fighting people for deals. Do you have curtains in your bedroom? No; I have those blinds that you can close upwards or downwards. Did you like the Spice Girls when you were little? Yeah, I did. Can you sing the entire Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song? I think I can. Do you get heartburn? I'm literally on an antacid prescription, or else I get insane heartburn every day. Are you scared of elevators? To a moderate degree, yes. I'm terrified of it getting stuck. Have you ever seen a dead body in person? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Have you ever seen The Goonies? I have. If you're white, do you ever wish you were black? Or vice versa? I'm fine being Caucasian, but ultimately don't care. Do you bake cookies all the time around Christmas? I don't bake. Do you like your hair pulled? Uhhh... I'm assuming you mean this in a suggestive context, in which case no. Never pull my hair, actually. What kind of jeans do you like? Ripped skinny jeans. What do you think is overrated? Who really cares. Let people enjoy what they enjoy. And what are your goals for the remainder of this year? Lose lots of weight, find a job, get back into old hobbies and develop new ones... Name a city that starts with A in your state/province etc. Asheboro. Name a landmark that starts with M in your state/province etc. I'm blanking right now. When was the last time you gave a horse a carrot? Been years. I think I've only done that once, and I can't even remember where it was. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. How many seasons is your favorite TV show in so far? MM was just revived for its fifth season! :') Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? NC actually has this really old Wizard of Oz theme park! It's on the other end of the state, though, and NC is one wiiiiiide state. What was the last bird you saw? A robin, I think. What color was the last thing you drank? Green. Has a wild animal ever been loose in your house? Besides insects, no. Well wait, scratch that, once or twice we had a small mice problem when we lived in the woods. What’s the name of the bookstores in your city? The only one I know off the top of my head is Books-a-Million. Where do your parents live? I live with my mom, and Dad lives in the same city as us. Have you ever seen or touched an iceberg? No, but that would be cool. What colour are your father’s eyes? Brown. If your ex turned up on your doorstep now, with nowhere else to go, would you let him/her stay? Well one, this isn't my house, so I can't make that decision. My mom being who she is though, she'd let pretty much anyone stay the night. If it was Sara, Mom would let her stay as long as she needed. The last time you cried, was it connected with someone of the opposite sex? Ugh, yes. My PTSD was BAD last night. Delicious warm brownies or a giant cookie? I'll take the brownie. Have you visited a haunted building or area before? No, but damn I'd love to. Have you been to North Carolina? Ayyyyeeeee that's my home.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''disguise'' by motionless in white

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

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Bleach Sword Beasts Arc Recap: Episode 260

Yuppp, it’s time for the Kazeshini Befriends a Baby episode.

Friends, I know someone’s gonna yell at me for this, but honestly, I remembered this one being better. I mean, obviously, the idea seems like comedy gold, but as I was watching it, I felt like they had this concept and then just... failed to ride with it. Like “It’s Kazeshini.... and a baby! It’s hilarious!” without actually being hilarious. Regardless, I know people would be disappointed if I didn’t cover this one, because it is beloved, so I will do my best.

Ep opens with Hisagi Naruto-running through the woods while Kazeshini cackles, so I guess that counts as a strong start, but it’s literally just footage they re-used from the episode where they fought back during the Muramasa rebellion. I gotta say, if I went to shinigami school and trained with the blade, etc, and then found out my sword spirit was a crazy murderer who hated me and would absolutely not help me in any situation, I would take some night courses and become a shinigami bartender. I would not “deal with” some stupid death pinwheels that scared me. I would simply pursue another line of employment. I would also not get the sex number tattooed on my face, so these are just a few of the ways I am different from Hisagi Shuuhei.

I guess that was supposed to be an actual flashback, because then it cuts to Ikkaku, Iba, Izuru, and Shuuhei running through the woods. What a friggin’ dream team. Ikkaku and Iba are on exposition duty, and thus we learn that they are off to Rukongai to fight some sword beasts who are starting shit, as is their wont. They get attacked by Kazeshini and Hisagi sighs and tells everyone else to go on ahead with exactly the same inflection as an absentee dad in an 80′s film who just remembered he can’t go to the game because he has to pick up his son from soccer practice. It’s now Kira’s turn to provide some exposition, and he explains to Iba and Ikkaku that Hisagi’s zanpakutou is, as they say, a huge bitch. He voiceovers his own flashback to the time he totally beat Kazeshini and looked super cool. Iba and Ikkaku agree: Wow. Kazeshini sure is a huge bitch.

Shuuhei and Kazeshini fight for a while, but Shuuhei is so, so tired, and finally he’s like “Dude, I am at work, can we do this later?” and Kazeshini gets mad and pouty.

I really like the next part where Hisagi runs up to some Kira and Iba who are standing around in Rukongai, which is smoking, and says “Sorry I’m late.” Ikkaku is nowhere to be seen draw your own conclusions. It is no wonder the Rukongai dwellers hate Soul Reapers, I would definitely be printing up anti-shinigami propaganda if I lived in the Rukon.

I am sorry, I can’t stop taking screenshots of these goons, I love them. Ikakku shows up and says they were all too late, it was like this when we got here. Whatever you say, man.

Cut to a cliff where Kazeshini is gazing over the smoking town, and Haineko, Hozukimaru and Wabisuke roll in to give him some life advice. Look, the best thing about this arc is the great care and attention they give to pointedly ignoring that no one ever made up zanpakutou for some of the shinigami. Maybe you won’t notice, they say, that we never show Iba’s zanpakutou. He surely has one and it definitely has a name, look, here’s a catgirl! God, I would give my liver to get the backstory on Iba’s zanpakutou. I hope it’s just Ray Smuckles from Achewood.

It turns out this is an intervention, the other zanpakutou are as sick of Kazeshini’s shit as Hisagi is. They are literally just like “what is wrong with you man?” and then say he can’t come to the cool parties down in the zanpakutou cave anymore if he can’t get his shit together. (Do you think Byakuya is still invited to those? I mean, I am sure he doesn’t go). Kazeshini yells “You’re not MY DAD!” and jumps off a cliff.

Kazeshini attacks Hisagi again while Hisagi is in the middle of a fight with an actual sword beast. Hisagi is really fed up by this time, he’s busy and this is getting pretty tiresome (to us, the audience as well). He throws Kazeshini through a wall, yells “I don’t have time for this” and gets back to business. Kazeshini is upset because no one is paying attention to him and goes looking for Hisagi. What he finds instead is a sword beast murdering a dude. The sword beast calls Kazeshini a dog of the Soul Reapers so Kazeshini stabs him in the friggin’ face, the first time this episode we have seen Kazeshini’s commitment to murderin’ dudes. Of course, the sword beast was in the middle of his own murder at the time, and the poor dude bleeding out on the floor begs Kazeshini to take care of his infant son.

I am presuming it’s his son. He could have been stolen that baby. Maybe they were just roommates. I don’t know how babies work in Soul Society and every time I think about it, it gives me a headache. Anyway, the baby has appeared.

To be perfectly honest, the dad didn’t even look that hurt and Kazeshini doesn’t know how much blood people are suppose to have in them, I bet he was just faking to get rid of this baby.

Kazeshini deadass looks this baby in the eyes and in a gravelly Clint Eastwood voice says “Look, kid, the only thing I am interested in is reaping lives” and I laughed my ass off, this is the actual funniest thing that happens in this episode.

The baby starts crying because Kazeshini won’t let him touch his death pinwheels, and the Soul Reapers hear it and start to run over. Kazeshini yells “I guess I have no choice!” grabs the baby and scrams. He had... no choice. He is very committed to murders, but he had no choice but to leave the baby sitting on the ground for 30 seconds before some authority figures ran up and found it. No. Choice.

GOD, I would give anything to see Iba, Ikkaku, Kira and Hisagi try to take care of a baby. Iba would try to get the Shinigami Women’s Association to take it and they would refuse. He would put the baby in sunglasses and one of those chest wraps. Ikkaku would try to teach the baby to fight, while Kira shouted “You can’t teach a baby to fight!” Hisagi would try to read a book on childhood development and get some Bad Ideas. Eventually, Ukitake would show up and take the baby away from them. I would give you all the money in my pocket for this, Bleach writers, but NO.

Kazeshini tries to talk the baby into going off and getting a job or something, but that doesn’t work. He tries to abandon it and... fails, I guess. He goes back to the cliff where the other zanpakutou show up to laugh at him and refuse to help, as well they should.

The baby cries because Kazeshini won’t let him touch his scythe thingies, so Kazeshini let’s him touch them. a) of all, this is not how parenting works, Kazeshini, and b) why does Kubo/whoever wrote this episode think babies love sharp objects, because this is exactly how the scene where Zaraki meets Yachiru goes. I have had babies. Do not get me wrong, babies love things they can hurt themselves with, mine particularly loved power cables, but I do not think they are generally interested in weaponry, but then again, this is Bleach, so it’s probably just a sign that this kid is going to grow up and be a Soul Reaper. I think this is the part of the episode where I started speculating where the baby would get his ‘69′ tattoo, because clearly, the cycle continues, and my husband made me shut up because he didn’t want to think about it, but search your heart, you know it’s truuuuuuuuue. If they ever do a Bleach Next Generation series, this kid better show up and he better have that tatt.

The baby pees on Kazeshini.

There’s a montage of the baby further harshing Kazeshini’s Hisagi-bothering lifestyle.

Then, Kira tells Hisagi that “there’s a rumor going around the zanpakutou about yours.” Why are the zanpakutou telling Kira their rumors. Do Kira and Wabisuke hang out? I mean, all of these takes place within, like, 2 hours, I think? While everyone’s on a mission? I don’t care, now I’m just mad that we got robbed of a Kira & Wabisuke episode where they listened to a bunch of The Cure together and made a poetry chapbook.

Kazeshini really, really wants to fight Hisagi at this point, but the baby has fallen asleep. He tries to leave it on a roof, but the baby rolls off the roof. Maybe it’s because I have kids, I dunno, but none of these antics are really funny to me, they’re just dumb. Literally, why doesn’t he just leave it on the ground?? All of these jokes revolve around him being an idiot and not caring about the baby, but he could have not just taken it in the first place. (there’s one point where he does try to hook it on a tree branch and that was funny, because we always talked about putting hooks on the wall that we could hang the babies on, just, like, for a minute, they would have loved it). Anyway, he spots a shed on the edge of town and decides that would be the perfect spot to abandon a baby while he murders his master.

Fight time! God, I love a Scooby Doo sequence where you have different characters running up and down streets and in and out of doorways, and there is a delightful one of Iba, Ikkaku, Kira and Hisagi fighting sword beasts. I cannot believe I am more delighted by the lieutenant parts of this episode than the Kazeshini parts, but that’s just who I am now.

We actually get to see some competent Hisagi fighting. Kazeshini is about to jump in and mess him up again, but the baby starts crying back in the shed. (it’s so far away??? How does he even hear it???) I guess he cares now, so he runs back to go get his kid. In the meantime, a nice lady has found the baby and is attempting to comfort it, except that the moment Kazeshini slides into the doorway she... drops the baby? The baby is comforted by hugging Kazeshini’s pointy shoe, and Kazeshini realizes that perhaps this woman will be an incompetent enough parent to take over in his stead.

Oh no a sword beast attacks him from behind! I guess it’s the one I thought he killed earlier, because it says “Oh, it’s you, the Soul Reaper’s dog!” Kazeshini isn’t even good at murdering, wtf? This episode is dumb.

Anyway, Kazeshini stabs the sword beast, and it definitely dies this time. He has an intense moment of realization that saving people is almost as cool as murdering people, and tells the lady to take the baby and run. The baby cries while a very intense guitar chord plays.

Kazeshini finds Hisagi, who is killing the last of the sword beasts, and is like “Okay, I promise not to attack you from behind can we fight now?” The episode then goes full-bore D R A M A, where they say “Reap--!” at the same time and there’s a smash cut to T H E S K Y and a woman singing a lullaby with some haunting reverb and then it intersperses imagery of the woman comforting the crying baby in a field full of floating dandelion seeds and Kazeshini and Hisagi fighting. At this point, if the episode doesn’t end with them each dying on the ground, I am going to be deeply disappointed. (Spoiler: I am deeply disappointed).

There’s a pretty good death pinwheel-on-death pinwheel fight, although it’s short. Hisagi stans gotta take what they can get, I guess. Anyway, at least Kazeshini ends up lying in a pool of his own blood, where he mumbles “When I turn back into a regular zanpakutou... what will we fight for?” and Hisagi replies “We will fight to protect people” and Kazeshini makes this face:

This was the second funniest part of this episode.

He turns back into swords and that’s the end.

In canon, the bit about Hisagi fearing his own blades is an interesting bit of character building, that fits in nicely with his admiration of Tousen, and the fact that he’s a bit of an artsy, writer type. It builds up the idea that Soul Reapers are not just bloodthirsty warriors, but people with morals and concerns, that they fight to protect, just like Ichigo does.

This episode in no way contributes to that idea. It’s more like the writers say, “Hey, people love Grimmjow! Let’s make a yell-y guy who likes to kill people!” Why does Kazeshini want to murder so badly? Who hurt him? He’s part of Hisagi’s psyche, but why? Why are either of them like this? In my head, prior to this, I could think of Kazeshini as a disembodied voice encouraging the escalation of violence. Hisagi was weak and powerless as a child, and then, in one of his first command positions, had a group of underclassmen in his care brutally attacked and a friend killed. I can see him having urges to go to extremes-- to get revenge, to kill monsters before they can kill innocents, but he fears these urges within himself, he fears becoming a monster.

The way this filler arc portrays Kazeshini doesn’t fit. It doesn’t work. Kazeshini is just a dirtbag who wants to kill and attack from behind and then they give him a baby and they don’t even have anything interesting to say about any of this. It’s honestly just disappointing. That’s right. I’m disappointed in you, Bleach Filler Episode about Kazeshini Toting a Baby Around. C-. It’s not quite the level of disappointment I had over the one where Renji blew up Urahara’s van, but Hisagi fans really don’t get thrown a lot of bones, and they deserve better than this.

Oh, and then in the next episode voiceover, Wabisuke theorizes that the baby was Kazeshini’s lovechild. We definitely do not have time unpack all that, so let’s end it here.

#sword beasts arc #bleach filler #shuuhei hisagi #kazeshini #i will say that kazeshini's character design does look like something shuuhei would doodle in the margins of his 4th grade math homework

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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what are your favorite fics you read for every member? like the ones that resonated and left you a changed woman when you finished. could be because of characterization, or plot, or nostalgia, just the ones that come first and easy for every member, like, the iconic ones for you. can be mxm. i'm asking cause i just read worldwide lonesome and. damb. just. i kinda feel like i read seokjin’s diary or something? like it felt invasive just bc of how REAL he felt, you feel me? so. i'm curious about u

this is such a loaded ask because honestly, i had to think really deeply about this!! there are so many fics out there that have changed me as a writer and as a person in general that its hard to pick just seven... but i’m glad you mentioned worldwide lonesome because that fic is definitely!! fucking!! up there!! it might actually be my #1 seokjin fic, so you already got me there. but man... i put a lot of thought into my answer because my reading list is a never-ending pool of queerness and angstiness, as those tend to resonate the most deeply with me (since i am, after all, both queer and angsty HAHAH) so uhhh... here i go!! (also i apologize that these are mostly mxm... weirdly enough, i’m kind of more affected by those bc i relate more to them than reader inserts for some reason... the world is bombarded with hetero representation, so excuse me for clinging to my sole source of queer love lmao)

➤ for seokjin:

worldwide lonesome by loindexter [yoonjin] - i already mentioned it, but MAN... this fic left me stunned. the characterization of seokjin is what gets me the most, and by god, i am a SUCKER for coming out stories. as a closeted queer person, i’ve always wondered what other people’s experiences are with coming to terms with their sexuality, and op really hits the nail on the head. seokjin in this fic just feels... so real. like you said, it almost felt like i was looking into his diary!! it was maddening and tearjerking and oh so fucking human... you could feel his turmoil as if it were your own... and yoongi!! dear god, yoongi... that sweet fool... this fic just struck a cord with me because of how intimate and vulnerable it felt. i really hope i can write a fic like that in the future.

➤ for yoongi:

here comes the sun by fruitily [yoonkook] - this was unequivocally the hardest decision i’ve ever had to make in my life, mostly because i’ve read a plethora of yoongi fics in my day and it is quite literally so difficult to pin down a singular fic that changed me the most as a person. the reason i chose this certain fruitily fic (op will always be my biggest writing idol... if i could, i’d list down their entire masterlist as my favorite yoongi/jungkook fics of all time) because of the emotions it made me feel. there’s always something a bit sad about summer romances, and i’ve always been a sucker for that sort of trope because of the many possibilities you can do with it. it’s just... the way yoongi was portrayed here was just so darn REAL,,, you could almost physically feel his increasing want, his slow realization that yes, he does love the bucktoothed kid from summer camp. i absolutely adore the interactions he has with all the characters, because you can almost fool yourself into thinking he’s a real person. he’s a friend, and you’re watching him come to terms with what it means to love someone you only see once a year. dear lord i love that dude i’m gonna go cry now!!

(also bc i’m cheating but i also recommend the nights really were made for saying things you can't say tomorrow day by siderum... first yoonkook fic i ever read and dare i say it literally changed me as a person. there are no words.)

➤ for hoseok:

depaysement by 1honeypot (oilblotter/obiwrites) - okay i know this is fucked up for me to recommend a fic that doesn’t even exist on the internet anymore (op deleted her account on tumblr and has moved to ao3 but she’s never gonna reupload this fic again unfortunately) but MAN i still remember that fic to this day. it was so fucking GOOD and it made me realize the potential reader fics had that i never knew was possible. the entire plot was the usual make-over cliche (popular trendy girl makes the nerd hot yadah yadah yadah) that i had thought wouldn’t be interesting, but op managed to turn that trope into her own. it was hilarious, hot, moving, relatable... just ticking off every point that makes a fic great. i miss that fic so dearly and if you were some of the lucky few who managed to read it when it was still around... i think you all understand.

➤ for namjoon:

beta tau sigma by bazooka [namjin] - i cannot count the amount of times i’ve reread this fic. like, no joke, i probably memorize a few of the chapters from rereading it alone. holy fuck,,, as you can tell, i have a pattern when it comes to my fave fics and it’s all about: GAY PANIC THE MUSICAL!! yea... i just really like fics about self-discovery because MAN as a young adult traversing the mysteries of human nature and sexuality, i sincerely relate to namjoon in this fic. “am i gay, or am i just gay for my best friend?” is a question i have asked myself NUMEROUS times... dear god, namjoon is just a walking catastrophe and i!! could not!! relate!! more!! the plot flow and immersion you get from this fic is out of this world. you almost feel like you’re in the same frat as them!! i also love the way op made even the side characters have their own story arcs and backgrounds... they are what inspired me to give life to even the smallest of characters bc it just heightens the reading experience imo!! they really do feel like your friends in this fic, and this fic will always be my sources of comfort.

➤ for jimin:

darling, just say you’ll say by tusaisbts [yoonmin] - have i not sung this fic enough praises? i know it looks weird from the premise... cowboys? mail order brides? i thought it was odd at first too, but believe me when i say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. jimin’s growth as a character here left me absolutely speechless!! i just love his development: from a scared stranger dropped off in the middle of nowhere to a smart and capable teacher who can hold his own in this small rural town. i especially love how he interacts with yoongi, because op really makes you want to root for them. you want them to fall in love, to make their relationship work out. that yearning for two characters to get together is something i want my own readers to feel, and there aren’t enough words in my vernacular to explain how happy i was when everything turned out well. and jfc... rancher yoongi? got me so fucking hot n bothered and now i will forever be enamored by the thought of rugged yoongi... jfc...

➤ for taehyung (& jimin!!):

mudlands & yellow acacia by nonheather [vmin] - i remember the day i read this like it was yesterday. i had a final to study for, but instead i read this entire thing in one go and then i cried my eyes out even until the moment i walked into my exam room. i don’t know how else to describe this other than it was otherworldly. it was cozy. it was heartbreaking and magical and downright lovely. i especially loved the way taehyung was here... so fucking whipped for park jimin. he loved like no other man could, and jimin might have been a little too bullheaded at first, but they make it out okay. i’m not really one to believe in soulmates, but this fic almost made me believe they could be. it made me yearn for the first time, and i think that counts for something. to love another person and to have them love you back... op made me believe in love.

➤ for jungkook:

years since you’ve been here by ameliabedelias [namkook] - okay maybe i’m just a crybaby and i cry at every fic under the sun but dear god this fic... might be The Fic That Changed Me As A Person. like, of course the other fics were mindblowing but this one in particular... wow. trampled all my expectations and caused a garden to bloom in my heart. jungkook is so sweet, so lost... he feels too much and he aches for namjoon. i know all too well that feeling of melancholy... when you love someone you’re not supposed to. coming of age stories will always have a soft spot in my heart, because i always tend to project myself onto the main characters. i want to grow and find my own destiny. i want to learn and be happy. jungkook finds his way, tumbles and trips the entire time, but he gets there. a symbol of queer triumph.

#Anonymous #answered #fic rec

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scottfuckingreed · 5 years

Text

No - Montgomery De La Cruz

ANONYMOUS SAID: “can u write a Monty imagine where the reader is friends with all the boys like Jeff, Justin and them & she is warning Montgomery about Bryce after a comment he makes? xxx’

Warnings!: Swearing, sexual talk and Bryce being Bryce (yuck)

Summary: although it is unknown to their friends, you and Monty are in a committed relationship. Things take a turn when you and Bryce are left alone at his house

“You’re such a dickhead!” Jeff shouts towards Justin and throws a chip at him over the table. This kind of sums up most of our lunches. It’s a routine almost. We sit in the exact same places, talk about pretty much the same things, and act the way we always do. It’s only ever subtle changes that happen. A hand lands on the patch of bare skin just above my thigh, but I don’t even flinch. No one can see it. Monty and I are very low key. It’s better this way. I know he’s mine, and he knows that if he looks anywhere else I’ll cut his dick off. So we’re VERY much on the same page about everything. No one else has to know, just as long as we do.

I drive myself to Bryce’s house for a typical hand out with the usuals. I see them all sprawled out across his room, smoking all the shit in the bong. Everyone has their eyes fixed on the game going on the tv between Zach and Justin. It may sound boring, but the shit - and it is utter shit - that comes out of these boys when they’re playing is too funny to miss. I lay eyes on Monty. I’d love to go and cuddle with him OBVIOUSLY but that can’t happen. I don’t know why it can’t, but I know it can’t. We lock eyes. It feels like minutes before we look away, but I know it’s only a split second before he blinks away. “I’m getting a drink, anyone want one?” He asks as he pushes himself out of the bright blue bean bag. Almost half the boys say ‘ah yeah’, which is perfect for me really. “Jesus Christ guys I’m not a fucking God y’know!” I grunts at the response. I mean... I personally disagree but I’d never tell him that. “I’ll help you,” I laugh.

We get to Bryce’s kitchen, and I get lifted onto the counter almost instantly. Our lips connect and I pull him as close to me as I possibly can. My legs wrap fully around him. I imagine they look pretzel shaped if you looked from behind. Unfortunately his kitchen is very open and we’d get caught very easily. A little make out wasn’t enough, but I guess it’ll do for now. “I missed you,” he mumbles before placing one last peck on my lips. If he said any of the shit he says to me in front of any the boys he would get SLAUGHTERED - let alone Bryce. It makes these moments even more special. I know he’s only like this with me. “Tell me about it,” he pulls away fully and goes towards the fridge. Monty comes back with four beers and places them in my lap. “That’s cold,” I moan and hurry them onto the counter. I see a smirk form in the corner of my eye. “What’s that for Cruz?” I lightly tap him with my foot. He pauses, before coming over to me with his four cans. Leaning in towards my ear, he begins to whisper. “I just think you should save that moaning for later.” Fuck.

“Honestly... Fuck you!” I shout as Jeff absolutely obliterates me. “I’m on your team!” I add as I lift my leg to kick him. He grabs my leg with his right hand and twists me playfully. I scream, which makes him do it more. I suddenly start to feel eyes burning in the side of my head. I continue messing around with Jeff because I’m probably over reacting, but I hear a cough behind me. “I think I’m gonna take off,” Monty stands up. Jeff stops, allowing me to sit up and look at him. I feel restricted from saying anything in case it makes it obvious. “Come on Cruz, it’s only 8!” Bryce throws a screwed up empty can of beer at him. “Sorry man, I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he leaves.

Running after Monty would just scream desperate and relationship so I don’t bother, but know that it’s all I wanted to do. If I wasn’t such good friends with these guys it would’ve been a no brainer. The stupid gaming goes on for hours, which causes both arguments and physical fights. I think everyone knew that it was time to finish. As people start leaving, it feels more and more calm and normal. It always feels like there’s hundred of us, although it’s 12 people at the most. Sometimes it’s nice to just be at 0. Not 100.

Pretty soon after people start leaving it’s just me and Bryce. We’ve known each other for what seems like forever, but we were never really ‘close’ until maybe a year or two ago. I feel like I know him, but he’s always been a closed book. But maybe that’s just me. Either way, I don’t think we’ve ever hung out just the two of us. “When do your parents come back?” I ask as I help clean up all the mess. “Tomorrow maybe. Who knows?” He laughs. I go into the kitchen to throw the cans in the bin, but when I turn around Bryce is right in front of my face. “Woah,” I laugh uncomfortably. My hand goes to his chest to push him back slightly to get past. “Y/N,” he says calmly. I say nothing and just turn back around. His energy is a lot different to how I’ve ever experienced it, so I’m unsure of what to do. I watch as he takes steps towards me, and the vibe I get from the situation is just... I can’t really describe it. It’s just negative.

One second he’s across the kitchen, next there’s hardly any space between us. I desperately want to move, but my back lays flat against the back wall. The feeling is indescribable. I don’t know why I feel so... weird..? about this whole thing. I’ve never seen him like this before. His hand lifts, making me stiffen up as he brings it to brush a piece of hair behind my ear. ‘I’m with Monty’ wouldn’t even come out of my mouth even if I wanted it do. “Bryce I-“ a fingertip that slightly circles the outside of my thigh silences me. “No I-“ and he doesn’t acknowledge, just continues. He’s stronger than me. He’s bigger than me. I begin to go into panic mode - but that just comes across as a frozen statue. “Don’t kid yourself Y/N,” he leans down and whispers in my right ear. Every hair across my skins stands tall. “Bryce- no- I.” I try forming a sentence in my brain, but they come out jumbled. His lips lower to my neck as I feel his finger slip up my shorts. I dont know where this strength comes from, but I push as hard as I can. He falls onto the ground, almost hitting his head on some cabinets. Almost. “Fuck Y/N!” I rush to grab my jacket, wanting to literally crawl up and die right about now. “You act as if you haven’t fucked half the baseball team.” I hear as I open the door. And a final “SLUT” as I slam it.

I drive out of his ground. Feeling completely numb, I stop driving pretty much as soon as I’m away. Words I’ve heard other girls scream about Bryce just rush through my head. I ignored those girls. I never thought twice about Bryce’s character, but I should have! The vile and sickening shit things they had to say about him was true... and I didn’t do anything about it. All I want to do is call Monty, so I do exactly that. It rings and it rings and it rings. I try at least 5 times but he cuts it short. I slam my hands on the wheel in frustration. Why didn’t I just leave when he did?

The next day

Guilty. The last feeling I thought I’d feel this morning. I feel guilty that I didn’t run after Monty. I feel guilty that I now have to tell Monty about what happened. I even feel fucking guilty about what Bryce did. He didn’t understand no. He assaulted me, and I feel guilty. Fuck feeling guilty. But it’s all I feel. Other wise I’m numb. Completely numb. I didn’t sleep last night, just cried and stared at my ceiling. Then the wall. Even out the window. I kept telling myself that it could’ve been worse. And it could’ve been! But playing last night through in my head on loop just made it sound worse, and then better, but it’s not getting better. I found myself making excuses for him, that maybe I gave him the wrong message. Maybe I did. Did I flirt with him? Did I give him a look?

I roll over to my phone which was centimetres from my head. My silenced phone must’ve been buzzing. Me and my running brain did hear a thing. I see two missed calls and a text from Monty. The text reads ‘Sorry I was in the shower, is everything okay?’ with a heart on the end. Part of me wants to be angry with him for not being there and leaving me. How can I though? I should’ve left with him. I should’ve ran after him.

It’s actually only 7:30 so unfortunately I haven’t missed any of school at all. Nowhere near. I don’t wanna go. I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to act. Just as I roll over and bury myself under the covers, I hear a car door slam. God I hope that’s not for me.

Minutes after there’s a knock at my door. I turn to face it only to see Monty’s head peak through the crack. Seeing his face actually makes me forget for a second. Happiness fills me, and as soppy as it sounds, I think he’s actually a cure to my sadness. He smiles massively at me before closing the door behind him and jumps onto my bed. “Jesus Christ Monty, you’ll break the bed,” I laugh, and as soon as I speak I can sense somethings coming. “Well I’ve done it before,” I push his face slightly, but I start to smooth his cheek instead. His eyes stay locked on mine. “Im sorry about yesterday by the way, I shouldn’t have left like that,” for a minute or two I completely forgot. I feel my smile just sink off my face, and I look down away from his gaze. This is Monty’s best friend. “How was it anyway?” He throws his arm around my shoulder. I lift my knees and lay my head on them to try and hide to fact that I’m slowly breaking. Fuck. This is so hard to rat him out. “Y/N...” he says quietly. My arms wrap themselves around my legs. I honestly feel so small. “What happened?” I’m not sure if it’s anger I hear in his voice, but something sounds different. “Uhm...” I sniff and wipe my glistening eyes into my covered knees. Turning my head, I look into his eyes again. “It was good until-“ “Until?” I can sense his whole being start to tense up. He’s sat up pretty much up straight and stretches to intertwine his fingers with mine. “Until everyone else left.”

It was almost as if he knew what I was gonna say. “Everyone meaning... you and Bryce were just left alone.” He takes his hand away from mine. “No it wasnt anything like that.” I panic and reach up to the cheek to comfort him. The discomfort on his face was so apparent and so disheartening. “I honestly swear.” I pause and take a breath. “He just... got a bit forward,” still, even with Bryce being an absolute dickhead, I find myself not wanting to hurt Monty by telling him this. He stands up in a rush. Pacing my bedroom floor, his fingers brush through his hair in frustration. “I swear to fucking god if you’re about to say what I think you’re going to!” I just lose it. Seeing how angry he already is just insane. Tears start to spill slowly but steadily. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. I shake my head at him while I wipe my eyes. “I don’t want you to be angry with me,” my voice breaks. He kneels at the side of the bed, taking both of my hands in his. “Just tell me everything.”

So I do. I start with how it was normal. How it was nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes stay focussed on mine throughout my slow explanation. I wish I could just scream how much of ass he was, but Monty is his best friend. I’m so scared it’s gonna back fire on me. What if he takes his side? What if Monty isn’t the guy I thought? “He started getting really close and just weird,” I breathe my words out as clearly as I can. All I’ve heard leave my mouth is mumbles and blabber, so I have no idea how Monty’s understood any of it. But I can see him understanding every word. Fluently. “I just- I moved away. I really tried...” breathe. “I tried to ignore the fact that he was being off.” This was the bit. This part was make or break. “I can’t describe what I saw in his eyes but it wasn’t what I knew, yknow.” Every word that exited my mouth flowed into Monty’s brain. I could see it. He was calm. He was calm until the final part. The neck kissing. The thigh touching. I actually think he was mad at me until I made it very clear. I kept saying no.

He was up and out. I hardly saw him move. One second he was holding my hands, next he was leaving my house. I grab my closest clothing item, which - funnily enough - was one of Monty’s hoodies, and run after him. I catch him just as he turns on the engine. “Montgomery,” I sigh as I get in the passengers seat. He doesn’t even look in my direction. A wet patch on the right cuff spreads. “I knew you’d be pissed at me,” I huff in a whisper, but it was evidently loud enough for him to hear. He punches both hands against the steering wheel. “Why the fuck would I be mad at you?!” He starts the car.

The car ride is silent. Im unsure of where he’s actually driving to, but the ride is very drawn out with the tension. My thoughts are running away. I just find myself looking over at Monty in the corner of my eye. His face was blank. It was as if he was thinking of nothing at all. Like he was literally empty. “Monty,” I let out in a whisper. He doesn’t react at first, so I don’t think he hears me, but he then grabs my hand. “I wasn’t a slut was I?” He eyes widen, and I think a smile starts to form. “How would you be a slut if you’ve only fucked one other guy?” It comes out in a some sort of laugh, which is honestly so relieving. “I must give off that vibe then,” I sigh and gaze out the window. His hand goes back on the wheel as he turns up to a too familiar house. My eyes widen. “Monty...” he turns off the engine. “I’ve got something to get quick, you can drive on the way back,” he hands me his keys with a warm smile.

I shuffle myself across to the drivers seat. This feels a bit odd. To going from him being ‘angry’, and now going to see Bryce. Did he have to get it now? I’m just a bit confused. Like are we fine? I honestly have no idea. Just as I get comfy, I see Monty run down the driveway and rush into the car. The door opens, and the first thing I see is the red blood-like colour all over his hand. Oh shit. That’s actually blood. “Shit Y/N drive!” Bryce comes out his house with what looks like a bat?! I drive literally seconds away before asking the obvious question. “What the fuck did you do?” I ask, but as I finish it comes out in a bit of a laugh. “I only punched him.”

He sits at my kitchen table while I get the first aid kit. “This might sting,” I warn him before I clean it with alcohol. He hisses but only for a moment. “What did you actually do?” I ask. ‘I only punched him’ was absolute bullshit and I knew it as soon as I saw his hand. I can see literal pieces of glass at the surface. “I didn’t go in to- no I did go in to punch him- but I saw his face,” He shakes his head. “I just knew that he’d brag about it to me if he got the chance.” “So what did you say?” With tweezers I pull the pieces of glass out his knuckles, apologising as soon as I realise I didn’t warn him. “I couldn’t say much. I missed when I swung for him first and killed the mirror instead. I went for him again and just - dunno... might’ve broke his nose.” He shrugs, which makes me burst out laughing. “Im glad you find this funny,” a massive smile forms on his face, dragging me forwards to straddle him. I place a kiss on his lips. “Breaking a mirror is like 7 years bad luck,” I can’t help but feel so happy and over the moon. His left and absolutely fine hand goes to my ass, squeezing it slightly before whispering, “You know I love you right?”

#13 reasons why #13rw #montgomery de la cruz #13 reasons why montgomery #monty x reader #Montgomery de la Cruz x reader

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let-it-raines · 6 years

Text

Second in Command (Ch. 13)

Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: A few things about the writing in this chapter: I have been reading a hell of a lot of Cocktober fics and editing mine, so that mature rating comes into major effect here (even if I’m less descriptive in this story than the others). Also, I have been writing angst in something else plus a, like, three-day headache, so I had difficult time writing this because it’s literally fluff guys. It’s just all of the fluff, and I really, truly hope that this chapter lives up to its expectations. I would normally wait a bit longer between chapters, but maybe this will brighten someone’s Saturday!

Oops. Forgot to link the story to ao3 | here |

You guys are forever the best, and every comment, kudos, like, reblog, private message, etc. fills me with the most joy ♥️

Tag list:

@resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @profdanglaisstuff

@ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld

@jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi

@captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat

The New Year passes with little fanfare, just a quiet celebration at home as they watch the fireworks over the Thames on the television, glasses of champagne in hand. Emma didn’t even make it out of the living room before falling asleep, her neck twisted in a way that would keep her out of commission for a week if left that way. He simply slid her down so that she was more comfortable on the couch, not wanting to wake her by taking her upstairs. He was thankful that they’d gotten some new furniture because his old couch was not nearly as comfortable as the new one Emma had picked out while he was in Africa.

He’s already packed for their trip, his suitcase spread out in the middle of the closet, everything carefully folded, while Emma has half of her summer wardrobe simply tossed in hers. He can’t help himself from folding everything up so that it will pack more efficiently and he’ll be able to put it away in the closet of their bedroom more easily. He is meticulous in the way that he lives, and Emma is not. It drives him crazy, but it is worth it in every way.

By the time Wednesday morning rolls around, Killian is more than ready to leave the cold of Britain behind for the warmth of Seychelles and the privacy of having Emma to himself, no royal protocol or photographers or hostile family members or need to wear a suit and tie. When they escaped to Switzerland a few years ago Emma was reluctant to let him do something like this, and the nerves practically rolled off of her until they were secluded within the walls of their lodge or cautiously skiing down the slopes (see: Emma landing on her ass in the snow more often than not). Today, she is calm, relaxed even, as she sits opposite of him on the plane with her nose in a book and her feet propped up in his lap, his thumbs running across the bones of her ankles while he watches both Netflix and her.

Sometimes he is struck by her beauty. Actually, all the time really, but he’s often struck by how much she’s grown in herself since he’s known her. When they met, she was inherently kind, something no one can ever take away from her despite her protests otherwise. She was inherently kind but fighting a battle with herself over if she deserved to receive that kindness in return. She always had. She’d been subjected to things she didn’t deserve by a man who didn’t deserve her, and Killian wanted nothing more than to take away those demons and replace them with the goodness he saw in her and with the light that she brought into his life just by talking to him like he was any other guy. And as much as he knows that he did have an impact on her growth and her ability to believe in herself, it was really all Emma. It’s always been Emma.

So to see her today as she is, someone who is sure of herself even when the world has a target on her back, it’s a wonderful, beautiful sight.

She kicks at his lap with her foot to get his attention from where he was obviously daydreaming and most likely staring.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, love, why?”

“If you look at me any harder you’re going to drill a hole in my head.”

“I’m just happy.”

She smiles at him before shaking her head and going back to her book, running her toes across the top of his thighs, and he knows this is her way of being affectionate with him even when most of her attention is focused on her book.

By the time they get to their private villa, far away from any of the other villas and on their own private beach, he almost cannot wait to be out in the ocean air and all of the freedom that provides, even if he knows that he’s got two security guards discreetly trailing behind them and staying in the small cabin next to them.

“Well shit,” Emma murmurs when they pull up to the villa, her hand slapping against his knee.

He can’t help but laugh as Emma takes in their home for the next ten days while he’s grabbing their luggage out of the golf cart they drove here in.

“Very eloquent, love.”

“Can you blame me, Killian? This looks like it’s out of a movie.”

“You’ve got to see the inside. And the view of the ocean.”

It’s like their own personal paradise, natural elements scattered across the villa with white linens and pillows that are the many colors of the sea dispersed throughout. He’d seen everything online before securely booking it, but Emma’s amazed as she’s walking around and running her hand over the balcony railing that overlooks their private pool which melds into the ocean, two types of blue becoming one. He doesn’t always feel the need for this kind of luxury, but he has the ability to give Emma this and he very much wanted to.

Especially for the sake of the ring in his carry-on.

“Damn,” she says later when she sits down on the swing on the balcony of their bedroom, a clear view of the ocean in front of her as he puts their suitcases in the closet. They can unpack later. “This is amazing, babe. Can we move here?”

“Considering the thing that lets us come here is me spending my time in Britain and getting paid to be me, I very much doubt that we can do that.” He moves to lean over her and wrap his arms around her neck, resting his chin on to top of her hair. “And I suspect that you’ll miss everyone too much. I know for a fact that you’ve already asked Abigail for a picture of Elizabeth with Alex.”

“They’re so cute, babe. And Alex cried when I left. Obviously I’m going to miss them. Don’t pretend that you don’t either. But I think I can do without them for ten days when I feel like I’ve walked into a book or a movie or something else ridiculous. How is this place even real?”

“It is one of my personal favorite places,” he admits before unwrapping his arms and moving to sit next to her on the swing, kicking his legs against the ground to sway them back and forth.

“Have you been here before?”

“With my family when I was a teenager. Wasn’t quite as romantic then.”

“I would hope not. That’d be super concerning and frankly pretty damn weird.”

They spend their first day there getting used to the place, exploring the rooms and discovering all of the hidden gems within the villa. He can feel all of the tension that’s been building in his shoulders, years of stress and worries that have accumulated and have been weighing him down, lifting and evaporating in the salt air. It looks as if the same thing is happening with Emma, her smile brighter than it’s been lately as she lounges in one of the beach chairs. They didn’t manage to get out to the beach until late in the evening, the sun setting and the temperature cooling, a light breeze causing Emma’s hair to blow in the wind as she wraps herself in a blanket and stares out at the horizon.

It’s perfect.

But then the heavens open up unexpectedly, one of those island storms that come out of nowhere, quickly drenching the earth before disappearing just as quickly. He and Emma don’t move out of it fast enough, too far down the beach to be anything but soaked by the time they get back inside, absolutely drenched as the water on them falls to the tile floor of the entryway, pooling at their bare feet. .

Emma strips out of her knit sweater, leaving her in just her bra as she grabs a towel out of the linen closet and dries off. He’s a bit of an ass, grabbing onto her and giving her a tight embrace as he buries his chin in her neck and makes sure that she becomes just as soaked as she was a moment ago.

“Killian,” she laughs, trying to squirm out of his grasp, but he just holds on tighter, breathing her in, smelling more like salt air and rain water than the flowers of her perfume or the vanilla of her shampoo. “Killian,” she whines again before wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him as he’s holding her. He can feel the laughter shaking through her chest. “You are such a kid. We’re going to stay wet forever and catch pneumonia.”

“Well, I’d quite like you to be wet all the time.”

She scrunches her face, her nose becoming a wrinkly mess and her eyelids closing.

“That’s the worst pickup line you’ve everused on me.”

He laughs against her shoulder before kissing it and releasing her, shedding his own clothes as he reaches for another towel and dries her down, slowly moving the towel down her body while she runs her fingers through the water droplets falling off the top of his hair until he takes the time to dry himself off.

By the time the two of them have changed clothes, he looks outside to see that the rain has stopped falling while the night sky has fully emerged, white stars contrasted against the black canvas of the sky, and he falls back onto the living room couch with a bit of a huff of frustration.

“You’re being cranky over a bit of rain, babe.”

“I am not.” She rolls her eyes. “Okay, then maybe my thighs hurt from running on the uneven sand.”

“Your fitness is going to have to be better than that for the plans I have for you and your thighs this week.”

A laugh passes through his lips before he reaches his hand out to grab hers on the armchair she’s sitting in beside him. “It’s a good thing we’re already together because we apparently have lost our touch when it comes to flirting.”

“I don’t think you could ever trulylose the ability to flirt. That’s, like, you’re second language.”

“That would be French.”

“Ah, yes, the language of love.”

She lets go of his hand, their fingers falling from each other while she walks into the kitchen and out of his sight so that he’s left to look out at the night sky again through the floor to ceiling windows, the wind blowing the palms as the aftereffects of the storm blow through.

When he awakes the next morning, Emma’s staring at him, green eyes peering into blue, with her head propped up in her right hand as her left trails over his arm, small little taps that he wouldn’t feel if he wasn’t so in tune to Emma’s touch.

“I’m still going to be here if you blink, Nolan.”

She rolls her eyes before moving closer to him, folding her body into his, the heat of her automatically washing over him as she rests are head on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around her waist to keep her as close as possible.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She shakes her head up and down against him, nuzzling further into his shoulder if that’s even possible. He noses at her forehead, encouraging her to look up at him even if she doesn’t listen.

“So you’re simply being extra affectionate this morning?”

“You are incredibly warm today, and while I’m loving this whole open concept feel of this place, us not closing the windows last night was not our most brilliant plan.”

“Ahhh,” he sighs before snaking his arm around her to rub at her back, sneaking underneath her top to find the bare skin of her back. Her skin is cold where it’s usually warm, and that just won’t do, his hand moving up and down to try to bring heat back to the skin. “Well,” he purrs, dipping his head down to capture her lips in a lazy kiss, “I think we can change the temperature with a little bit of physical activity.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she tells him, somehow managing to not roll her eyes, when he pulls back from her, “and neither have you.”

“Has that ever stopped us before?”

“I also need to shave today.”

He raises his eyebrows while his lips tick up to one side. “Has that ever stopped me before, my hairy little love?”

She laughs before crawling out of his grasp and sliding her shirt over her head, her breasts encased in the most raggedy bra that she owns. She loves that thing, and he sees it more than he sees any of the satin or lace she keeps in the closet.

“Looks like I can still flirt if I’m getting you out of your clothes that quickly.”

“Baby, you’re just lucky we don’t have to schedule our sex because we’ve been together so long.”

She crawls onto his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs before hooking her arms behind her and snapping her bra off, the tan straps falling off her shoulders and exposing herself to him before she begins nibbling on his jaw.

“Is this not our scheduled monthly morning sex?”

“Oh no it is,” she giggles as he starts running his fingers up her sides, hitting underneath her armpits like she absolutely hates, “so you better do your best work, my love, because this is it.”

He stops tickling her arms then and cups her breasts, his fingers ghosting over her nipples as he dips his head to the side to whisper in her ear, “I have a feeling I can renegotiate our terms.”

He leans back and grabs onto Emma’s waist, tossing her forward onto the bed so that she bounces against the mattress, her hair spreading out behind her like a golden blanket as she laughs and smiles up at before bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You are the most stunning woman alive,” he coos as he lowers himself on top of her, aligning their hips and their lips, the softness of both driving him wild as she moves against him. Emma may not know how to waltz, but they have this dance down, so well-practiced that even through the cloudy haze of passion, they both know exactly what to do to drive each other crazy. “Just, everything about you is wonderful.” He leans back down to slant his lips over hers, running his tongue along the line of her lips until she allows him entrance, the slick slide of her tongue against his making everything else in the world blur away only to leave Emma.

He quite likes it that way.

Emma runs her hands against the skin on his back, her nails scratching red lines into his skin as his scruff mostly likely rubs similar red marks into her chin, his lips moving from hers to run across her jaw and behind her ear, running his tongue below the lobe a biting until she whimpers. When he chuckles at her whines, she digs her nails a little further into his skin and pointedly rolls her hips against his so that he’s whimpering as well.

Oh gods that feels good.

“It’s not so funny now, is it?”

“You’re a bloody minx.”

She laughs against his shoulder before her hands inch down to his boxers, thumbs moving the elastic down until the cool air hits his skin. He lifts his hips to help her get him undressed before doing the same thing to her so that their skin is pressed together, her softness pressed against his hardness while he checks to see if she’s ready for him, slowly sliding into her when he feels her slickness, a gasp escaping from Emma at her sudden fullness.

“You ready to renegotiate our terms now?” he whispers before moving inside of her, her walls always so tight that it takes everything in him to not lose himself completely right then and there.

“You are an idiot,” Emma laughs before wrapping her legs around him, her heels digging into his ass to push him further inside her and bloody hell. “You are an idiot, and I love you to pieces.”

He dips his head down to kiss her, murmuring I love you against her lips before increasing his pace, thrusting in and out quickly as they whisper quietly, or not so quietly, mixtures of loving little nothings and dirty little things into each other’s ears, pants and moans echoing throughout the room and out the open windows so that the sounds of them rocking together are mixed with the rocking of the waves, slow and fluid at one moment only to be harsh and demanding the next.

Emma falls before him, her teeth biting into his shoulder as she whimpers beneath him, and he’s not long after, spilling himself inside of her before collapsing on top of her, knowing that if his weight becomes too much, she won’t hesitate to tell him. Instead she kisses his shoulder, her tongue soothing her bite mark before sighing beneath him and closing her eyes when he rubs his scruff against her cheek, the harsh hair blending in with the softness of her skin.

“So only once a month in the morning, huh?”

“Ugh,” she grumbles, pushing him off of her, not that she can really do that without a little help from him, so that he pulls out of her and tumbles onto his back. “You are impossible, and you really know how to run with a joke.”

“I may be impossible,” he kisses her collarbone before crawling out of bed to get her a towel, “but you love me for it.”

“Aye,” she mimics in his accent, propping herself up on her elbows and smiling at him like he’s the reason the sun is in the sky and the ocean is at their feet, smiling at him like he’s everything to her in the way that she’s everything to him.

He lets Emma sleep in for a little while longer while he takes the engagement ring out of his carry-on and slips it into the sole of the shoes he’s going to wear for dinner tonight. Yeah, he could just put it in one of his pockets, but Emma’s been known to slip her hands into his pockets when kissing him and he just can’t risk keeping the ring somewhere she’ll find it.

So he slips the ring into his shoe and dresses in his swim trunks and a button down, going downstairs to fix himself some coffee and eggs, knowing not to bother fixing Emma anything because she won’t be up for at least another hour or two. She surprises him, though, coming down the stairs dressed for the beach not thirty minutes later, and she doesn’t even teasingly berate him for not fixing her something, instead grabbing a fresh muffin the resort provides and sitting out on the deck to watch the ocean roll in and then roll back out, the sun glittering across the water.

If he didn’t so love his home country and wasn’t required to be one of the faces of the nation, he’d move somewhere like this like Emma jokingly requested last night, a place near the sea where everything is romanticized just the tiniest bit, where he can watch his girlfriend drop crumbs down her shirt as she sits in a swing with her hair curling in tight ringlets because of the salt of the water.

Killian likes to think that he’s a bit of a romantic, always making sure that Emma has fresh flowers or leaving her notes when he leaves the apartment for the day. He likes to think that he’s a romantic as he tells her he loves her for the seventh time in one day or when he readily (most of the time) admits that he’s wrong when they’ve gotten into an argument because one of them did something stupid. More often than not, he’s the one who’s done something stupid. He likes to think that he’s a romantic despite the fact that they’ve been together for nearly six years, or maybe even because of it. He likes to think that he’s a romantic in the little, everyday things, the ones that truly mean more than the big gestures, but today is a big gesture kind of day.

Today is an asking Emma Nolan to marry him kind of day.

He’s nervous.

So damn nervous.

Marrying her is all he has wanted for the past five and half years, and he has no doubt that she’ll say yes, but as they tan on the beach later that day all he can think about is his plans for later that night and the ring resting in the bottom of his loafers.

She’s so beautiful in every way, but right now she’s got nothing on but the tiniest pieces of blue fabric, her skin sparkling as the sun beats down on the mixture of lotion and sweat, and her hair is falling over the top of her chair so that the tips mix with the white sands of the beach. She’s got a book in her hands, and he idly wonders how many she brought with her because she reads more than any person he’s ever met, especially lately.

She’s beautiful and he loves her, and he’s so nervous for this evening that he thinks he might need to have a small, or large, glass of rum before he asks her. Does that make him awful? How do you love someone this much and still get nervous?

He must have been noticeably staring for too long because she turns on her side and reaches her hand over to run her fingers across his torso, resting them at the curve of his hip as she continues to read, only stopping when he returns her action and places his hand on her hip, her green eyes peering over the top of the pages after she pushes her sunglasses to her head.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring again.”

“It’s difficult not to stare at you.”

She puts her book down on the ground between them, making sure to mark her page, before crossing the small gap between their chairs and crawling into his side, half of her resting on top of him, her bare legs running up and down his calves while she props her head up on her forearms that are resting on his chest.

“What?” he questions, wrapping his arm around her to tug her more fully onto his body, a heat spreading across him that has nothing to do with the sun.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

She smirks, pressing her lips against his chin before pressing her lips against his own. “It’s difficult not to stare at you.”

“Darling, you have to come up with your own compliments.”

“Okay,” she says, her foot tapping at his. “You’re hot as hell.”

He throws his head back as much as he can in laughter while his hand squeezes her ass cheek for, well, her cheekiness. She’s not the kind of funny where everyone in the room knows it. It’s usually more subtle, nuanced, but he thinks she’s the most hysterical person he’s ever met, especially with her not-so-eloquent flirtations.

“That’s much better.” He kisses her nose before shifting her so that she’s at his side while he grabs her book from the ground. “What are we reading, love?”

“A trashy beach novel because I finished all of my good ones.”

He flips through the pages, skimming the words until he gets to her bookmark and begins to read where she left off, continuing until Emma yawns against his neck and her skin begins to pink.

“So what exactly does our date tonight entail?” Emma questions later as she runs her brush through her hair, smoothing out the curls she just put into it with her curling iron.

“It’s a surprise.”

That’s the understatement of the century.

“Killian,” she whines, leaving her spot in the bathroom, clad in nothing but her robe, to sit on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck. He likes relaxed, beach vacation Emma. She’s extra affectionate, and that’s going to work well in his favor tonight…hopefully. “What have I told you about surprise dates? I love them, but I need guidance on my clothes and if I need to eat beforehand because I’m not going to like the food.”

“This is like our first date all over again.”

“What?”

“You asking me for help on your outfit. You didn’t know what to wear.” He presses a kiss against her temple. “Darling, I own the same suit pieces in multiple colors. You dress me all the time. And while I would be perfectly okay with you wearing your birthday suit, I know that whatever you wear will be fine. We’re going to be out on the deck, and I promise you’ll like the food.”

“I still can’t believe I had to ask you for help that day.”

“It was endearing.”

Emma ends up dressing in a white sundress, and it’s almost comical how appropriate that is for the occasion. The entire evening is nice, the resort delivering grilled fish and bottle of wine as well as setting up candles and fairy lights that keep the area illuminated even under the canopy of trees. He’s especially glad for the wine, not getting to have his glass of rum earlier, and with every fidget of his foot, he can feels the ring in its protective bag under the arch of his foot in his shoe.

“Emma?”

She’s looking out at the water, her glass of wine swirling as she absentmindedly holds it out beside her. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t say anything else for awhile, still trying to run through the words he’s been rehearsing for weeks now, until she looks over at him, sweet smile on her face as her head falls back, hair tumbling down the back of her chair.

Instead of proposing, he blurts out, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” She slips her sandals from her feet before stepping onto the sand, looking at him curiously as he stays in his shoes. “You don’t want to take your shoes off? Those are nice ones. I wouldn’t want you to mess them up.”

“Um,” he scratches behind his ear and hopes that his internal grimace doesn’t become an external one, “it’s fine this way.”

They walk silently for a little while, their fingers twined together, and even though their silence has been comfortable, like most of them are, he has to break this one. He will not chicken out of this moment.

“You know,” he begins, trying not to have to take a deep breath because that will most definitely give him away, “the day I met you I was pissed beyond belief at my father. I don’t even remember what about, but it led me to going on one of my walks and to meeting this fiery blonde lass who has just…who has just become my entire world. So you could say I like my walks like this.”

He looks over to her, her lips slightly parted, and he can see the gears running in her head by the way her brows are furrowed together. He knows the moment she’s figured out what’s about to happen, one corner of her mouth ticking up and her eyes widening the slightest bit as her brow unfurrows, but he soldiers on, confident that this is going to go well.

“Emma, I have loved you for five years, four months, and seventeen days…”

“Did you count?” she laughs, interrupting him like only she could in a moment like this.

“Of course,” Killian confirms, stopping their walk so that he can stand in front of her, the moonlight making her hair look almost white. “I have loved you for that specific amount of days, so long that I cannot remember what it’s like not to love you. You’re everything to me. You’re the love of my life and my partner in everything. You’re brave and you’re kind and you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

He finally gets down onto one knee, and when he looks up to Emma, she’s nodding her head in encouragement while she absolutely beams down at him.

“You’reit, my love, and…hold on, I’ve got to get the ring out of my shoe.” He reaches down to take his left shoe off, struggling to get it out from underneath the sole, and when he does finally get it, Emma’s squatting down in front of him trying to hold back her laughter at his scrambling. He has to kiss her then, totally out of order of how this thing is supposed to go.

When they part, their foreheads resting together and their lips so close that when Emma speaks, her lips brush against his. “Killian, ask me.”

He does.

“Will you marry me?”

She nods her head against him before closing that small distance again and slanting her lips over his, and he can feelher smile. He’s sure she can feel his.

“Yes, Killian, of course. A thousand times yes.”

She peppers kisses across his face before her lips land against his.

“Bloody hell, you said yes.”

“Did you think I’d say otherwise?”

“No,” he laughs, grabbing her left hand so that he can finally slide the ring on her finger. It looks right, like it belongs there. Probably because it does. “But this is nerve wracking, sweetheart. I’ve felt like I was going to pass out all day.”

She chuckles before leaning back and holding her hand up against his shoulder, looking at the ring for probably the first time since they’ve both been a bit distracted. “Babe, this is beautiful.” She cups his cheeks, and he can feel the metal from both of her rings against his skin. “You’re beautiful, and I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Can I call my mom?”

He barks out a laugh before tugging Emma into him with such a force that their teeth clack together in their kiss, his hands threading into her hair while her hands grab the collar of his shirt, little whimpers emanating from her throat as he moans into the kiss, not breaking apart until he feels the sand at his back and Emma on top of him.

She’s breathing heavily, harsh pants that match his own as their foreheads press together, her nose pushing into his cheek as his does the same. “Is that what you wanted to call your mum for?”

She shakes her head against him, her nose brushing over his while he moves his hands down to hold onto her hips. “We’re getting married,” she sighs against his lips. “Babe, we’re actually going to do it.”

“I know,” he grins, the feel of her smile so near his lips and the skin of her thighs underneath his touch making him feel like his entire body is tingling. She said yes. She bloody said yes. “I cannot wait to marry you, Emma. Absolutely cannot wait.”

“I can’t either.”

Eventually the do make it back to the villa, and while he’d never planned a beach proposal, never meant to do it down by the water, he’s glad that it happened that way. He’ll probably have sand in his hair for years, but he doesn’t bloody care. After celebrating their newly engaged status with just the two of them, Emma calls her mum, bubbling over in so much excitement that he thinks she might burst.

“I’m nervous,” she whispers against his shoulder as they sit out on the chaise on the balcony, her phone ringing as she dials her parents.

“Don’t be.”

“Did they know it was happening?”

“I talked to your dad about it a few months ago.”

“Oh that was smart not to tell Mom,” she laughs, not hearing the phone click as someone answered the call.

“What did we not tell, Mum?” Mary Margaret asks through the speakers, and Emma practically jumps out of her skin. “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation, sweetie?”

“I have something exciting to tell you.”

“Oh my God, I’m going to be a grandmother.”

“What?” Emma gasps, looking down at her stomach, still flat as ever, like Mary Margaret can see her even though this is just a regular phone call instead of a video message. This is going about as well as he thought it would. Mary Margaret is likely to scream bloody murder when she finds out the real news. “Why is your first guess that I’m pregnant?”

“Well because you and Killian are obviously sexually – ”

“Mom,” Emma groans, and he just leans over to kiss the top of her head as her face goes red, “please just let me tell you so that we can nothave this conversation.”

“Okay, go. I’m all ears.”

Emma takes a breath, looking over at him and kissing the side of his jaw before holding up the phone to her mouth and whispering, “Killian asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

The phone is silent for a minute before Killian hears Mary Margaret sob on the other end of the phone.

“Mom,” Emma prods, “Mom, are you okay?”

“My baby is getting married,” Mary Margaret absolutely wails through the phone, and he imagines she’s going to give Emma the tightest hug when they get home. Probably give him one, too. “I’m so happy. Ooooh, I cannot wait for your father to find out. I’m assuming I can’t tell him while he’s down at the pub?”

“Probably not the best idea. You’ll have to keep a secret for at least a few hours. You can text me when he gets off, and I’ll call him, too.”

The conversation lasts for a few more minutes, Killian joining in every now and then before they let Mary Margaret go, Emma curling into him and resting her left hand on his chest. He likes that, seeing the shine of the diamond reflected against his chest, and when they fall asleep later that night, it’s with her left hand resting on his chest instead of the usual right.

The next morning Emma wakes him up with a kiss before he even manages to open his eyes, her tongue running across his lips and then suddenly pulling away so quickly that he thinks he’s dreaming until he opens his eyes, hazy from his late night, and sees her clothing her bare skin with a sports bra and a pair of leggings.

“Darling, are you going somewhere?”

“For a run on the beach because apparently I hate myself and still feel the need to exercise when on vacation.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She shrugs. “Only if you want to.”

“Give me five minutes.”

By the time they’ve been running for twenty minutes his legs and his lungs are burning, not used to the uneven terrain of the sand and the water, and it takes Emma a moment to realize that he’s stopped running, hunched over with his hands on his knees. Maybe those kids in Africa were right. He is out of breath quickly for a healthy, twenty-nine year old man. Emma does eventually notice that he’s fallen back, turning around and jogging back to him until she’s standing in front of him, her lips upturned as she smirks.

It’s that smirk that sparks an idea in his head, and before Emma even has the chance to run away he’s got her thrown over his shoulder.

“Killian,” she warns even as he carries her to the water, smacking her ass when she pinches his side in retaliation. “Killian, that water is going to be ice cold. I swear, don’t you dare throw me in there.”

He doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t care how much trouble he’s going to get in with her later, he gets knee deep in the water, and she’s right, it’s damn cold, but he’s still throws her into the water before diving in after her, making sure to pop up right where he tossed her to make sure she’s okay.

When he surfaces, she’s already above water, slicking her hair back while her lips twitch, eyes bright even as the salt water brushes over her brow, maybe especially because the salt water brushes over her brow and reflects in her eyes.

“You are a dead man.”

“What a way it’ll be to go.”

“You,” she swims over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, her tennis shoes sinking into his back, “have got some balls, Killian.”

“You of all people would know.”

He kisses her nose before wading them back to the shore, their clothes already weighing them down the more he exposes them to the air instead of the water, and if he’s going to regret doing that, it’s going to only be because now he’s walking them back to the villa, their clothes heavy even with Emma quitting her squirming by the time he is halfway back. This is a hell of a better workout than their run, and his heart pumps at a faster rate with the way Emma’s nibbling at his pulse point, her tongue soothing her bite every few seconds.

Getting engaged is bloody brilliant for one’s libido.

He manages to get her all the way upstairs and to the stone shower, putting her down right outside of it, his arms screaming in protest even as he strips down, finally getting his wet shoes off and reaching into the shower to get the water started, a steady stream falling onto the light stones and darkening them as he steps in, letting the water fall over him, his hair matting down as the sand falls off of him

Killian looks over to see Emma staring at him, her bottom lip between her teeth as her hip rests against the wall, still dressed in everything but her shoes.

“You like the view, sweetheart?” he teases, slicking his hair back so that it doesn’t fall in his eyes.

“I do like it,” she seductively purrs before peeling out of her soaked thru sports bra, the material getting stuck when she gets it over her shoulders, and he barks out a laugh as her seductive strip tease transforms into a struggle of simply getting out of her clothes. She eventually gets it off before snapping it at him for his laughter, her hair falling in wet waves down her back when she bends to strip off her leggings, laughing and mumbling something about stupid spandexuntil she finally steps into the shower with him, her hands running up his chest until they land on his shoulders, her body tightly pressed into his.

If all early morning runs ended like this, he’d go every damn day.

“That was quite the little show you put on there, darling.”

He reaches around to grab her bottom, pulling her even closer to him so that his growing hardness can get some friction while her hardening nipples press into the hair of his chest. He backs her up to the wall so that the water is only hitting at his back, his body shielding Emma from the spray getting into her eyes as he dips his head down and kisses her, little moans coming out of her throat as he devours her, rolling their hips together and making himself moan, too.

“I like this being engaged thing,” she breathes while he runs his mouth across her jaw and her hands simply hold onto his neck and card through his hair while his travel over her stomach, down her thighs, against her core, feeling the wetness that’s starting to pool there that has nothing to do with the water in the shower. “It makes you extra sexy.”

“Are you saying I needed incentive to be extra sexy?” He bites at her ear lobe and pushes against her clit with the heel of his hand simultaneously, and all of the air rushes out of Emma as she gasps and leans her head against his shoulder while her body reacts to him.

“No, babe,” she kisses his shoulder, peppering kisses across his collarbone before running her tongue across the underside of his jaw, her hands snaking down to stoke him while he fingers at her folds and fuck, she’s amazing. “You are always sexy,” she presses up on her tip toes to reach his ear, “saucy even.”

He chuckles at their inside joke, and at that she runs her fingers across the underside of his length before circling the tip and his laugh is dispersed into a moan, his heavy breathing only increasing the more she works him up…and down.

“Turn around, darling,” he grits out, kissing her temple before she turns and he can kiss at the back of her neck and down her spine, his hands tracing down her sides until he’s kneeling on the ground, edges of the stones cutting into him as he licks a stripe against her folds, his tongue teasing at the soft ridges while Emma grapples at the wall, pushing her ass up against him so that she can get more friction.

“Baby,” she moans when he gets into a particularly good rhythm, his forearm holding her stomach and pushing her back into him as his fingers toy with her bundle of nerves. “Babe, I can’t – I can’t hold on. I need…I need you to ah – fuck,” she whimpers, her voice cutting above the sound of the water beating down when he harshly smacks her bundle of nerves and her legs fall out underneath her as her release finally hits her. He works her through it while holding her up and keeping her from falling in any other way but the pleasurable one.

It’s bloody amazing.

Once her legs have gained their strength back, Killian rises from the ground, kissing his way up Emma’s back before capturing her lips with his in a bruising kiss and lining himself up to her entrance and sliding into her, her walls fluttering around him, little aftershocks from her previous orgasm.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips as he starts to move inside her, dragging himself in and out before harshly pushing back in, his arms supporting Emma under her breasts and at her waist while he rolls his hips against her backside. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, my darling.”

It continues like that for awhile, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other mixed with moans and the fall of the shower water beating against Killian’s back and to the floor, the heat of it waning the longer they’re in there. When Emma falls for a second time, Killian isn’t far behind, suppressing his moan against the skin of Emma’s shoulder while he holds both of them up, all of the sounds blurring and muting as he attempts to come back to himself.

Eventually Emma manages to turn in his arms and push them back underneath the shower spray, grabbing the shampoo and condition to wash the sand, the sea, and the sweat out of their hair.

“You’re right, love,” Killian says later when they’re both wrapped up in towels and Emma is twisting her hair into two fishtail braids.

“I mean, always,” Emma teases, “but what am I right about this time?”

“That ring on your finger makes you extra sexy.”

They just had sex in the shower, but her cheeks still go red. He loves when he can still make her blush.

“So how many official duties are we going to have when we get home?”

“A hell of a lot,” he sighs before shuffling around in his suitcase and pulling on his swim trunks for when they eventually get to the beach, handing Emma one of her bikinis and a cover-up, “but we don’t have to worry about any of that this week. And we won’t have to announce it to the world for at least six weeks, but there will be behind the scenes things to do.”

He steps forward to twist his fingers through the tips of her braided hair, and when she scrunches her face, her nose wrinkling, he leans down to kiss her forehead.

“But today, my future wife, today we eat whatever the hell we want because we have done quite a bit of physical activity this morning and then we bask in the sun so that we can rightfully complain about having to wear several layers of clothes when we get home.”

“Sounds like a plan, my future husband.” A beat passes. “Oh God, we’re that cheesy couple aren’t we?”

“Absolutely.”

The day passes in a blur of food, fruity alcoholic drinks that are almost obligatory when visiting an island, the sun beating down on pale skin changing to tanned, sand between the toes, and nothing between Emma and Killian as they lounge on the deck or in the pool, drifting off into the ocean almost as naturally as they drift to sleep later that night.

He wakes around two in the morning, the moonlight causing Emma’s ring to shine as she runs her left hand over the exposed hair of his chest, her delicate fingers pressing against his skin.

“Hey,” he whispers before running his fingers down her back and tugging her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m just thinking.”

“Would you like to share with the class?”

“Hmm,” she hums before kissing his chest, right over where his heart is beating. “It’s nothing big. Just life.”

“Life isn’t something big?”

Even in the darkness he knows she rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’d rather you tell me.”

“I’m simply thinking about how lucky I am,” she sighs, her fingers still toying with his hair, “how lucky we are to have this life. And not necessarily the fancy vacations and the nice things, but to have each other. I think about all of the things that had to go wrong, and more importantly that had to go right, for you to walk in that door that night…and for you to keep coming back.”

“I like to think I was too stubborn to not come back. You fascinated me. Still do. Probably always will.”

“Killian, you know everything about me.”

“Aye, but we’ll change as we get older. We already have in the past few months, but in a good way, you know?”

“Yeah,” she exhales, leaning down to kiss his bicep, “I know. Everything about this is so crazy, but you and me, we make sense, don’t you think?”

“I know that we do.”

They eventually drift back to sleep and don’t wake until mid-morning, the sun shining brightly even with the curtains closed and shrouding them in the hazy light. He’s got a day scheduled out on a ship for them, and while he promised her he’d take her sailing, he couldn’t manage to get anything other than a motorized yacht, but she seems fine with it as the wind blows through her hair while they’re driven out into the sea by one of the resort officials, a day’s worth of food and drinks stocked in the kitchen below deck.

It’s a wonderful day, even if it is a little awkward having the driver and his security onboard with them. At one point he and Emma jump off the back of the boat just to get away from the others, letting the salt water wash around them while they wade in the ocean.

“I think my skin is going to be completely wrinkled by the time we get home.”

“Aw,” Killian coos before swimming over to her and wrapping his hands around her waist under the water, “my own little old woman.”

Emma scrunches her face, and he tries to swoop in and kiss her, but she squirms out of his hold and ducks under the water to climb up the ladder to get out of the water, her bottoms clinging to her.

“Your ass looks amazing, love.”

She turns to look at him still down in the water, her lips slightly parted in surprise before she smirks and hooks her finger to call him toward her, and he scrambles out of that water like a man possessed.

The rest of their week goes like that, mixtures of salt water and alcohol or sand and sex, not necessarily in those combinations. Killian hasn’t been this carefree in years, and when he zips up their luggage the morning of their flight home, he feels a legitimate sense of melancholy wash over him at the thought of leaving and having to go back to his real life with duties and work, no matter how much he’s missed his bed and not-so-surprisingly-anymore, his family. Emma simply smiles and squeezes his forearm, lugging her suitcase down the stairs before he gets the chance to carry it for her.

She walks out the front door on her way…their way…home.

Together.

#second in command #captain swan #cs fic #cs ff

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fantismal · 6 years

Text

Don’t Starve Stories: Episode One

Gather round, younglings, and let me tell you a story about a game of Don’t Starve Together...

Now, for those of you who don’t know, in Don’t Starve Together, you pick a character to play as from a cast of miserable outcasts yanked into this evil place and enter a world where you...try not to starve. Also, you just want to survive. There are no zombies, just a horrible darkness that bites you—literally—waves of hounds that seem to come once a fortnight, in more and more numbers, spiders as big as your head, and of course, the Giants, one for every season.

I found an open server belonging to Ko, who was playing as Wigfrid. Wigfrid is a method actress to the highest degree. She is an energetic red-head who was cast as a Valkyrie, and upon entering the world of Don’t Starve, she is determined to make Odin and the Unicorn proud. Wigfrid excels in battle and draws strength and sanity from attacking just about anything. She can make helmets and spears that are surprisingly good for their cost, and can easily outfit an entire party if you give her enough gold. Wigfrid also insists that the only thing warriors like herself eat contains meat (preferably that of her vanquished foes). Wigfrid is, in short, my favorite character. She has a bad rep for being “a worse version of Wolfgang” or being a noob’s character, but Wigfrid has a charming “Hold my beer and watch this!” attitude that I just LOVE.

There is no rule saying there can only be one of a character per world, but it’s sort of bad etiquette to double up on characters without asking. I pop into Ko’s world and ask if I can play as Wigfrid as well. “Sure” Ko says, and I jump through the portal.

The two Wigfrids are exploring the world, tearing off in separate directions to scout out the best location for a permanent home base, when another player joins. Balboa sees there are two Wigfrids already and laughs. He joins as Woodie. “I can be base mom!” he declares. Woodie is a Canadian lumberjack with an impressive beard and an even more impressive axe named Lucy. Unlike just about every other tool in Don’t Starve, Lucy never breaks. Ever. She also doesn’t let anyone other than Woodie touch her. They have a very special relationship. She talks to him. This is a good thing, because Woodie is a very Special sort of fellow. He’s scared of birds, he can chop trees like a mofo, and if he gets too excited or the moon gets full...he turns into a werebeaver and wreaks holy havoc on any forest in his way.

The other Wigfrid and I laugh and promise we’ll keep our Woodie alive, and off we go. I build a science machine, a necessary item to create backpacks to expand our inventory. The science machine is fairly cheap to build, so I plunk it down in the middle of nowhere and announce it to the map so everyone can get a backpack. Woodie comes running over. “Is this base?”

“No, it’s just a science machine.”

“I’ll start setting up base!”

Remember how I said it’s the middle of nowhere? We are in a sparse rock field, but that’s about it. There are a couple trees dotted around. One tallbird nest. No grass, no twigs, no berries, no good sources of meat... this is not a good location. It’s day 4 of Autumn, the kindest month of the year. Autumn lasts 20 days. “We’ll keep looking for a base.”

“I’ll gather wood!”

Woodie chops wood the fastest. This makes sense. “You do that. Can you get charcoal too?”

“Yes, absolutely!”

Wigfrid and I keep searching. Wigfrid finds spiders and the resource-rich deserts, home to the summer giants. I find Glommer’s statue (a sanity-restoring bug that spawns only on the full moon, but if you can pick his flower from his statue, he’ll follow you until something kills him) and the Pig King.

Now, the Pig King in Don’t Starve Together is a valuable ally. He’ll take a lot of the junk you can find in tumbleweeds (in the desert) and from digging up graves (because what else do you do with graves?) and pay you in gold nuggets. Gold nuggets make the best tools in the game...and Wigfrid’s weapons and armor. Gold is valuable in Don’t Starve, and even more valuable for Wigfrid. Camping near the Pig King is usually a good idea. Usually.

In Don’t Starve, some resources can be moved. Trees can be planted for close wood. Saplings, grass tufts, and berry bushes can be relocated for close sticks, grass, and berries. Spiders live in nests that can be torn down when they’re big enough and replanted somewhere more convenient. Spiders provide silk, glands (for healing), and monster meat. Monster meat will hurt to eat and screw with your sanity, even if you cook it first, but if you build a crock pot, you can take a slab of monster meat and some berries and make delicious meatballs that do nothing bad and a lot of good (among other meat-related recipes). A crockpot, a spider’s nest, and some berries are all a Wigfrid needs to be happy. Crockpots require charcoal, which is why I asked Woodie to harvest some.

These are moveable resources, but then there are just as valuable immovable resources. Swamps provide reeds for paper, blowdarts, and the librarian’s magical books. Rock fields provide boulders for rocks, flint, gold, and nitre (vital for surviving the heat of summer above ground). Mactusk is a walrus who makes a camp in the same location every year and can drop the most valuable items in the game when he dies, the Walrus Tusk (used to make a walking cane that increases your speed) and the Tam o’ shanter, a stylish plaid tam that raises your sanity AND keeps you warm in the long dark nights of winter. Our pig king is not near any of this. He has a bee field to the north (easy honey, yes, but bees can be domesticated in your own bee box and therefore are moveable) and a meadow to the south (sparse resources, big open spaces). To the east and west, he’s penned in by the uncrossable ocean. Pig King is not a good base location.

Woodie doesn’t care. Pig King is king! He starts packing up the temporary base to move all of the supplies to Pig King. Other Wigfrid and I keep racing each other around the map to find the best spot.

Just north of the bee field, I find a wormhole that takes me to another part of the map. It’s a Mactusk camp! Just north of Mactusk is the Bee Queen, a formidable boss who also provides a steady supply of honey if you’re careful. Just north of HER is a clockwork rook, which I easily dispatch for gears, which can be used to make iceboxes and other useful machines. The rook was living on a lovely patch of carpet. To the west is a small spider den in a dense forest. To the east is a cave entrance. Caves are excellent sources of light fuel. The Pig King isn’t too far away, and neither is the desert with all of it’s boulders.

“How about here?” I suggest. The only way to improve it would be to have a swamp nearby, but getting that perfect combination is next to impossible.

Other Wigfrid comes in. She likes the location, but she’s worried about Bee Queen. An idiot might not be careful and could trigger her attack.

“Eh, just kick them if they try,” I say. She laughs and runs off to help Woodie bring his supplies to the base. I, meanwhile, build the Alchemy engine (the top tier crafting machine) and an ice box. “Woodie, you have charcoal, right?”

“Yep, 53!”

Wigfrid returns, drops her load, and runs off again to fetch more supplies. I build a fire pit and store my food in the ice box. My health is low (I spent a day clearing the killer bees out of the bee field to make it safe for the others) and my hunger is dropping. If I reach 0 hunger, I’m going to start taking damage. “Woodie, you bringing that charcoal?”

“Yep, just giving stuff to the Pig King!”

“Okay, but hurry up! I’m about to starve here!”

I have monster meat. If necessary, I can eat it, but I only have 13 hp, and monster meat will take 5 away. I distract myself by building a turkey trap and then planting berry bushes around it to spawn turkeys. This will take 8 days to grow.

“Hey.” Woodie suddenly utters the unthinkable. “Where did my charcoal go?”

Somehow, Woodie managed to lose his charcoal. I take a slab of monster meat out of the ice box and cook it on it’s own. 8 hp left. I grab my spear and go to the spider den. “Go get us charcoal!”

Night falls, and Woodie hunkers close to the fire. Another player, Ripper, has joined us and is heading towards camp. Wigfrid and I have cleared out the spider nest, and I’m staring at the three spider glands I hold. Alone, each gland will heal me for 5 hp. If mixed with ash, each can heal me for 20. I need ash. “Woodie, get me charcoal!”

Woodie pulls some manure from his bag and goes to the berry bushes. He starts fertilizing the bushes. I stare at him for a moment, then I make myself a torch. “Guess I have to get my own charcoal.”

The forest with the spiders is a valuable source of materials, so I don’t burn that one. There’s a little clearing, though, and then another forest.

I burn that one.

The first ash left behind, I snatch up and run to the alchemy engine. My hunger is at 3. I make myself a salve from one of the spider glands, use it on myself, force down another slab of monster meat, and run back to the forest. Hunger is now at 20. Health is at 23.

“THE FOREST IS ON FIRE!” Woodie shouts. “WHO SET THE FOREST ON FIRE!?”

“I needed charcoal,” I say, as if it’s the most obvious answer.

“It’s not me,” Ripper cried. “I was getting charcoal for Fantismal, but I’ve only set this one tree on fire, I swear!”

“I burned the forest,” I said, swinging my axe and chopping down carbonized tree after carbonized tree. Charcoal! Yes! I need 6. My hunger is at 12.

“THE WHOLE FOREST! IT’S BURNING!”

I check the map again. It’s a contained forest. We’ll probably get a couple hundred charcoal out of it at most. “It’ll be over soon.” The rest of the trees will be fine.

My hunger is at 3. I race back to camp with my charcoal and whip up a crockpot. Hastily, I shove rotting berries and a piece of monster meat in it, and I do a little dance as I wait for the meatballs to cook. My hunger is at 0. My health is dropping. I make more healing salves and use them. The meatballs are done. My health is at 6. I eat them. I stabilize. I breathe.

Now that my immediate panic is over, I set more meatballs to cooking and head off to chop down more of the burnt trees. Once I’ve gathered a good fifty-some charcoal, I head back to camp and make 5 more crockpots in a circle around the icebox for the most efficient kitchen. My meatballs are gone. I make another one, then some honey ham for healing. We have a lot of honey. I took out a bee field.

The spiders come out again that evening, and I massacre them for more health and glands. Woodie has planted...some of the plants we brought. Not all. Oh well. There’s always tomorrow. Ripper shows up. “Who needed charcoal?”

“Already took care of it,” I said. “I’m a strong independent Valkyrie!”

The next day, I go into the caves to get some light flowers for a lantern. Woodie plants more trees. Wigfrid and Ripper explore more of the map. They’ve deposited their food in the ice box, but there are no meals prepared. I make six honey hams and eat one. The rest go in the ice box for the others.

The next day is day 11. I make a meatballs and put it in my backpack, then I set off for glommer’s statue. Night 11 is full moon. We need someone ready to pick the flower. Woodie is talking up how much wood he’s going to chop down tonight. He makes some chests to store our stuff, and announces that someone else will have to organize them.

“You’re base mom,” I point out. “Organizing is your domain.”

“Oh yeah...”

Wigfrid and Ripper are still exploring. As the sun sets, Woodie realizes that OMG bloomer is tonight! Someone needs to get him!

“Already on it,” I assure the team (having told them I was going to get glommer that morning). I stock up my grass and twigs in the forest, snacking on my meatballs as I get peckish. Fighting spiders has restored my health. I’m a happy Wigfrid.

The moon rises and glommer appears. I pluck his flower and he buzzes along happily behind me. There are fireflies in the forest. I dig out the bug net I made just for this trip and catch as many as I can before my net breaks. One firefly and one straw hat makes a miner’s hat, an excellent source of light at night when the grue, Charlie, tries to kill you.

Back at camp I make a miner’s hat and deposit the rest of the fireflies in a chest. “HELP!” Woodie shouts. He’s still a werebeaver, and he’s being attacked by an insanity monster. I’m not insane, but I can force-attack it. Once I land a blow, it comes after me instead.

Insanity monsters are no match for Wigfrid.

Spiders are also chasing Woodie, so I slaughter those too and deposit their meat in the ice box. There’s no meals. I make more meatballs. I take a couple with me, leave the rest in the ice box, and go to explore the caves.

We have a pretty good cave system. I emerge the next day, head back to camp, and find...there are no meals. Half our saplings and berry bushes haven’t even been planted. They’re in chests.

Saplings and berry bushes take time to grow. They don’t grow in winter. We’re running out of time to get harvests in. I frown, dig them out of the chests, and plant them. Woodie runs up and fertilizes the berry bushes.

“Why weren’t these planted?” I asked.

“I spent all day mining!” Woodie declared. “We needed rocks.”

I look in my backpack, full of rocks from my adventures in the caves. “Mining isn’t what the base mom does. Base mom takes care of base. Mining is for the runners. You tell us what you need, and we fetch it for you.”

“Oh.”

“What does the base need?” I ask, getting some more food started. The saplings have only been half-harvested. I roll my eyes and begin harvesting those. The berries are ready too, but it’s better to wait until day so we can get turkeys.

“Um... meat, for winter.”

“Okay. I’ll clear the desert of hounds tomorrow.” The desert is home to hound mounds, which spawn vicious dogs that what to rip your throat out.

Wigfrid kills them in three blows and heals more than she gets hurt.

Hounds drop meat and teeth, which can be used to make traps to protect your base. It’s good to clear them before winter so you can defend against the winter giant.

The next day, I take some meatballs and go to the desert. Not only are the normal hound mounds there, but a special set piece known as the “houndfort” has spawned, which is a huge pile of boulders surrounded completely by hound mounds. It takes me a day and a half, but I clear the whole thing, both the monsters and the rocks. When I return to camp, winter has almost started, but I have over 50 meat, nearly 200 rocks, and full health and sanity. My hunger is low, though. I ate all my meatballs and had been snacking on the monster meat on my way back.

There are no meals in the fridge.

I sigh, dump my treasures, and get some meatballs cooking. Woodie logs off for dinner. I take my meatballs and go out to harvest pig houses to create a meat farm.

“You guys don’t make meatballs!” Ripper cries when he returns to camp. Ripper is playing as Wolfgang the strongman, widely considered one of the “best” characters. Wolfgang’s powers are tied to his belly. When he is completely full (and his hunger can reach a whopping 200 points, as opposed to Woodie’s 150 or Wigfrid’s 120), Wolfgang reaches his Mighty form. He becomes physically larger, stronger (1.5x damage [Wigfrid does 1.25x damage]), and faster. However, his hunger depletes incredibly quickly. When he’s too low, he is in his Wimpy form, a scrawny little twig who is weaker than other characters. His max health changes with his forms as well. Wolfgang is also scared of the dark.

“Sorry,” I say, out in the forest. “We lost our base mom.” The other Wigfrid logs off as well, without a word.

Ripper sighs. “I’ll be base mom,” he said.

“<3”

I pass through camp after a day. The berries still need to be harvested. There are no meals in the fridge. Wolfgang is being chased by insanity monsters. I grab a hat for winter, which begins tomorrow, and go off to help beat some sanity back into him. Then we harvest the berries. I make a single meatball and shove it in my face. I’m not starving yet, so I head off for another house. “Make me more meatballs!” I shout back.

“...i forgot glommer restores sanity,” Ripper admits sheepishly.

Woodie returns. I’ve harvested a shitload of grass, several more pig houses, and I’ve torn down two maxed out spider dens. It’s almost morning. It’s winter. I’m wearing my snazzy winter hat with the beefalo horns and my hunger is at 9. “I’m starving!” I call as I’m on my way back to base. There are now 2 base moms.

Are there meals?

You’ve read this far, what do you think?

“For the love of Pete, can we get a base mom who actually cooks meals!?” I cry as I set meatballs to cooking.

“I was going to as soon as I got back from my smoke,” Ripper says.

“Just make it yourself,” is Woodie’s response. “It only takes a minute. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Because you’re never the one ten seconds away from starving with no food you can eat!” I have to pause to shove my food in my face, but I have had it. Woodie has been on this server for over fifteen days and he hadn’t done shit for the base. “You called base mom! You wanted to be the base mom! Your job is to take care of the base!”

“I don’t know what you guys want!”

“FOOD!” I said. “COOK THE FOOD, PLANT THE PLANTS, HARVEST THE CROPS, MAKE SURE THERE’S FUEL FOR THE FIRE!”

“There’s food in the fridge!”

“Not cooked meals! Prepare meals ahead of time so we don’t have to! Harvest the plants when they’re ready! You were complaining we weren’t prepared enough for winter, but you weren’t helping!”

“Geez, Fantis, calm down, it’s not that important!”

Woodie proceeds to cook one fish sticks. My alarm goes off. Time for bed, so I’m not exhausted in the morning.

“I never said I’d cook anyway. I just said I’d chop wood.”

“YOU CALLED BASE MOM. IF YOU CAN’T TAKE CARE OF THE BASE, DON’T CALL BASE MOM.”

At that very moment, Ripper quietly starves to death between us.

“Ohh, if only we’d had meals in the icebox,” I said. “But it only takes a minute for us to make it ourselves, right?”

“There was food in the ice box!” Woodie shouts back (along with a colorful name beginning with F that is not Fantismal).

“ONE FISHSTICK!” I’m shedding my supplies, as is polite.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

“Because you called base mom and you haven’t done shit. *I* built the alchemy engine, the fire pit, the ice box and the crockpots. *I* planted the berry bushes and half the plants. *I* supplied the food. *I* saved your ass every time something jumped out at you and said “boo!” (Because so many times I’d have to run back to base because Woodie couldn’t handle the spiders or the tree monsters). “I shouldn’t have to cook and organize and harvest too!”

“It’s not like there’s any meat to cook with!”

“THERE IS SEVENTY MONSTER MEAT!” I screamed. “WHICH I BROUGHT BACK WHEN YOU ASKED FOR MEAT! MONSTER MEAT IS MEAT! FISH IS MEAT. FROG LEGS IS MEAT!” (All of which were in the fridge).

“Whatever. Just do us all a favor and shut up.”

I’ve shed my stuff and am just about to log off... when he starts a vote to kick me. I laugh, even more so when the vote is “no.” “Ohhh, someone agrees with me!” And that, at the end of Tumblr’s post limit, is how I lost my temper enough to almost get voted off a server.

#Don’t Starve #Don’t Starve Together #Don’t Starve Saga #video game story #as in #a story about a game I played #names have been changed #i’ll probably write more of these #this was fun #i enjoyed myself #i even was only mildly annoyed at Woodie up until the end #let me know if you want more #or if you think I was out of line #or justified #don’t call base mom if you won’t take care of the base #or valkyrie women will kill you

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pisati · 5 years

Text

this isn’t completely unfamiliar.

it’s not any worse than it has been. maybe on my end; just a little embarrassed. I’m really not usually like that. taking a few steps back, I’m honestly pretty annoyed with myself.

I have my reasons, but they’re not all that good. I’m incredibly insecure. don’t know how to feel secure. I feel out of place in this world, but that’s not anyone’s problem but my own. why should I ever have the audacity to believe I matter? to believe I could be significant to another person? an exaggeration, I’m sure. but I’ve been mostly right so far.

I fell asleep again this afternoon, pulling my hat down over my eyes and my blanket up over my shoulders, feeling like I could just disappear. for all anyone knows, I have. nowhere to go, nowhere to be. nothing to say. I’m not in school, I’m not at work. after I pay my taxes this year I’ve got nothing else that says I’m even here, really. I don’t own my car or this house. I’m not on anyone’s radar. I’m off the fucking map. I’m just existing here, and barely.

I really don’t have much memory of the last few months. I was just scrolling back through pictures on my phone, deleting some, and there’s some I don’t even remember saving. just a few weeks ago tops. some I remember taking, but it seems like a whole hell of a lot longer ago than just a few weeks. maybe that’s not unusual, but it is for me. especially given that I have literally nothing else going on. not a lot to think about. time shouldn’t feel this... messed up.

I put Do Not Disturb mode on my phone last night for the first time in.. probably a good few weeks to months now. maybe it’s about time to move my charging cable back to my purse. go back to just looking at my alarm clock dock for the time, rolling over. nothing to check, nothing to answer.

maybe this is why I haven’t tried much. I’ve been feeling really out-of-sorts for what feels like a long time. I told the lady screening me at my psych appointment last week about how my last job had me so miserable I actually noticed myself starting to feel reckless. I wouldn’t do anything stupid intentionally; consciously I know it’d be more of a mess that I didn’t want to deal with. but I’d often have the thought while driving to the office that.. what if a car swerved over from the other side of the road? what if I just drifted over? what if I got on the highway and kept going; ignored all the emails and hangouts messages and calls and just never showed up again? I got pulled over for speeding and it hardly fazed me; the last time that happened I had a panic attack the entire rest of the way home. I’d start crying on the drive in. have the thought almost every day that one of these days it’ll be the last time I have to walk through these doors. come home too exhausted to speak, pull my pajamas back on, and curl up in bed until it was time to make dinner. I’m sure a few times I didn’t even make it to bed; just curled up on the floor and cried. I’d sit on the stairs, crying, telling my mom I couldn’t do it. I wanted to quit. I still have dreams (nightmares?) about being back there; for some reason they re-hired me. in the last dream I got fired again; bringing me back was a mistake. I didn’t want to have to see our dickhead president ever again, and yet there he is, in my dreams. still a dickhead.

I also mentioned my tattoo, my cartilage piercing, and cutting my hair off, since all of those were kind of impulsive. she asked me if I regretted them and I said no, but I also didn’t really care, you know? I DID want the cartilage piercing; I have since I was 17, and I even remember being like 5 or 6 and doodling my future self with a whole bunch of piercings. I wanted the tattoo; I still kind of want more to make a half-sleeve. and I was so sick of my hair being sickly thin-looking when it was long; it started falling out when I was 17 and never grew back in, and I spent 5 or 6 years wanting to chop it all off. but... I had my reasons why I didn’t do those things before. I did them all last year because I wanted to, but also because I just stopped caring about the potential consequences. I’m sure festivus was part of that impulsivity as well. I do remember having the split-second thought that well, I haven’t done anything real stupid in a while, fuck it. consciously I know that was something I really, really shouldn’t have done. I would have slapped myself straight across the face for even thinking about it if that were me 6 months ago. I’m really unhappy with myself. but in the moment, I just didn’t care about the consequences. I think I even numbed out a little bit. just, whatever. I’ve never been the “fuck it, sure” type of person before, but over the last year and a half or so I’ve had this “whatever” attitude towards way too many things. this is a completely new monster to me. I don’t like it. I don’t like flipping so hard between thoughts and feelings and going with my impulses because who the fuck cares? I should care more about what happens to me. some of the time, it works in my favor. but obviously not all of it is as harmless.

the suicidal urge people get usually only lasts about 15-20 minutes. once it passes, people often realize they don’t want to die, or they seem a little surprised; they would never. what do you do when you get hit with those 15-20 minutes? what stops you?

I had to think about it for a second. I said my mom. she lost it entirely when my brother got all fucked on acid; I don’t want to imagine any worse. my rats too; they need me. other than that... what really does stop me? at least I have enough sense to know that it’ll pass if I wait it out.

sometimes I wish there were a pill that could shut your brain off.

I didn’t have bad dreams last night, but I did have dreams, and I woke up exhausted. I was trying to get to a show, I had floor tickets, I was already an hour late and I’d never get a barrier spot if I didn’t get to the venue, but it took me 20 minutes to walk to my apartment, so I started running; like, those kinds of dreams. I just want to turn it off. I’m tired of thinking all the goddamn time. even when I’m not awake, I’m still going. the sedatives don’t make it stop. they just make my body stop.

I’ve noted how different I felt a few times over the last few years. memory issues help too. I’m forgetting what it all felt like. I’ve had to dig it up again recently to describe what happened, but it’s all just words. what memories I do have, and they’re fuzzy. I am past it. it’s nice, in a way, to forget. for a while I held on to it. the few good memories I had. the proof that I’m not completely unlovable. it made me sad, too, though. I’d go visit and it’d still be fresh and it felt weird. it was weird to be back and trying to talk and act like nothing had happened. like I wasn’t still hurting. but T feels like a stranger to me now. a stranger I can still talk to, whom I still trust and respect very much, but a stranger, as far as I’m concerned. we barely knew each other then, even less now. A was my best friend for something like three years. he’s still one of the only people who knows me as well as he does. that’s what I keep close. the times we’d watch shows together and rest our heads on each other; when he didn’t shrug me off. when he played that dumb computer game and I’d watch; we’d both laugh til we cried because we had the same weird, morbid sense of humor about the whole thing. he’d take me to the pet store so I could see the animals. the book store too, because I liked it. poking fun at me a little bit for living where I do and being so mesmerized, because on clear nights in Johnstown all I wanted to do was stand in the dark and look at the stars. you could see an arm of the milky way from his backyard. he let me lay my head on his lap at farm jam my first year and just look at them all. made sure I ate when I’d get nervous. poked fun at me for being so picky but would still make me something I’d eat. he built two funeral pyres for Marty and Jay and let me bring them up to cremate them after they each passed; got some hair clippings for me because I was too upset to see them like that. that’s what I care about most. he still hurt me a whole hell of a lot. I won’t say I’m over the hurt. or, the aftermath of it, anyway. but over him as something more than a close friend? absolutely. even if he pulled a complete 180 and decided I was actually the love of his life... I don’t know how I could go back. I don’t think I could ever feel again the way I felt about him before.

Fitzie’s really not doing well. he’s eating and drinking alright, but his poops are smaller and he really struggles to get his footing. when he walks on the floor his back half leans to one side; it’s like he’s walking diagonally. his back left leg is worse. he struggles to get his back feet under him. he can’t lift them very well so he thumps his feet on the ground when he scratches. I’m not ready for this again. thankfully my last loss was Scottie, almost a year ago. so I’m at least a little more braced this time. I’ve had time; it’s not a surprise. but I can’t believe I’ve had him since he was a tiny 3-week-old little mouse. it was only just over two years ago. now he’s a little old man, and I don’t know how many more months he has left. I want to enjoy what time I have. holding him to my chest, giving him little kisses while he gently licks my hand. that’s been weaker too. I just hope he knows I love him. I hope Frankie and Scottie knew too.

I don’t know why I have this impulse to share my thoughts. got almost 90k tweets, and nothing really good to say, ever. on timehop most of it is just me talking to myself about school, since literally nobody else cares. thoughts and feelings. musings. any dumb thought that popped into my head. I used to journal on my blogs too. write and write and write. not unlike this. nobody would read it, but that was okay. in some cases I didn’t want anyone to read it anyway. I think in some ways I see it as a substitute for human interaction. if I can’t have that, I’ll just write out what’s in my head. tweet it out if I can’t tell it to anyone. it can be good and even cathartic to let it out, but on the other side of that coin... nobody’s really hurting if I don’t say anything either. I got comfortable with talking. some things, people needed to see normalized. I’ve talked about my depression and anxiety on facebook. I’m not ashamed of it; they’re illnesses I have that are very common and have unfortunate amounts of stigma surrounding them. people have felt safe talking to me and asking for advice. other things... I don’t really care, honestly. I don’t know why I’m such an open book, often to total strangers. do I think it makes me seem more relatable? more friendly? trustworthy? that I’m willing to just talk and talk about anything? if that is the case, it’s not conscious. I read that that’s another sign of an anxious attachment style, but I don’t see it as an anxiety thing necessarily. part of me thinks that’s just how I am. and yet, still, if someone were willing to talk, I’d talk. and talk, and talk. it’s not that I don’t have a filter, I just.. don’t always know how much is too much. it bothers me. I wish I’d just shut up sometimes. I don’t have to vocalize every stupid thought that pops into my head. every tangent, every related thing. maybe I just got used to letting it all out. having to explain myself. that feels impulsive in a way too, but I also know my mom does something similar. maybe I learned from her.

like, do I really want people to know me? every little thing? do I really think I’m that interesting? that anything I have to say holds any kind of weight? does everyone need to know what’s going on in my life? why do I feel like that? I mean... social media prompts you to share, share, share. everything. all the time. I don’t recall having that urge when I was younger, before everything was online. I liked journaling, I always have. maybe social media hasn’t been the best influence on me. someone that feels like she needs approval. that constant feedback loop. it’s not healthy. yet I still can’t get away from it. I tried to take a break; I failed. I’m sure I could try again. but I also don’t like the isolation that comes with avoiding it. it’s already quiet when people don’t talk to you and you don’t talk to anyone, but it still feels a little like company when you can see what other people are doing and saying. I remember the summer I got really sick and I was drowning in anxiety; I’m pretty sure I cried over my spotify friend activity bar disappearing for a few weeks. it even felt like company to be able to see what music my friends were listening to.

the lady doing my screening asked me what my depression looks like. I mentioned the recklessness, the impulsivity. of course the hopeless feelings, the deep discontent, the sadness. I’ve always had a melancholic temperament; always felt deeply. I’m sure, with a history of mental illness on both sides of the family, I was bound to end up like this. I remembered later that I also get restless. I never used to have that before. sometimes I just feel... antsy. like I just want to go. or do something. but I can’t. that causes me a lot of distress. I didn’t mention my itch to travel, but that’s part of it too, I think. I got the urge to travel the first time after that one new years. I came home from indiana and I was so out of it. I wanted to be as far away from pennsylvania as possible; mom found me looking up flights to LA and she offered to go with me. she didn’t know why I wanted to run and didn’t ask. it did help to be across the country, and it certainly helped to be in a warmer climate, but my feelings didn’t slough off and stick to the runway like I hoped they would. I still felt bad, but now I was feeling bad in LA. it didn’t really occur to me that I got the urge to run like that again after my dad passed. I guess I just want to run when I’m hurt. get away. be somewhere where no one knows me. I actually get traveling anxiety pretty bad, but for some reason I can override it when things like this happen. I want to overwhelm myself with how different everything is so I don’t have to think about the pain. of course I still think about it.

another thing I didn’t think about, that I’m sure is related... I’ve noticed that my emotions flip around a lot. the lady screening me asked if I ever felt on top of the world; I said no. I know I’m not bipolar. I don’t flip that drastically. when she asked on a scale of 1-10, 1 being the lowest, worst I’ve ever felt, and 10 being on top of the world, where do I normally sit, I said usually I hover around a 4-5. pretty neutral, but there’s always the Bad Feelings(tm) lingering. but I get flashes of strong, uncharacteristic anger sometimes, over little things. I get annoyed way too easily over little things. I’ve been way more impatient than I used to be. the impatience leads to the antsy feelings sometimes. sometimes I can reason with myself, and reason my way out of certain mood switches, but other times I can’t. it’s all very confusing. but these are all signs of depression too.

I didn’t think it was this bad, to be honest.

I know when the depression kicks every so often because I’ll feel really deeply sad, and nothing helps. I’ve had the suicidal thoughts. I’ve cried so hard I’ve almost puked over nothing and everything; I just feel bad. I know on a conscious level that depression can also manifest as exhaustion, insomnia, restlessness, impulsivity, mood swings, apathy towards yourself and your wellbeing. but I may not have connected the dots with myself until very recently. maybe I thought these things were unrelated. I was watching for the wrong things. I thought I’d know if my depression got worse because I’d be unable to get out of bed, or shower, or eat, because I’ve been there before. I’m there now, but it’s more no energy and less can’t do it because I'm too sad. I thought the suicidal thoughts would get worse, or I’d be in that dark pit I sometimes get into for longer. it didn’t occur to me that I could be feeling relatively stable for the most part, even have good days, be as functional as my energy levels will allow me to be, have my usual occasional dips, but be so apathetic towards myself that it borders on reckless. I could be impulsive-- more than I’ve ever been. I could be moody but not just sad or self-destructive; irritable, impatient, angry. it really has been getting worse, and it literally never registered.

I was thinking, too, about how I started saying last year that I was in such a fog, I felt mentally somewhere around 22. I felt like I’d stagnated. I still feel that way. I feel different than I did at 21, but I don’t feel like I’ve progressed much past that. I know what growth feels like, and I’ve literally been stuck. my last job had me in a rut. and, like, no wonder I’ve felt like I’m still somewhere around 22, almost 23. that was when it started. right after I graduated college. that’s why I don’t remember much of the last year and a half, almost 2 years. everything changed, not all for the better, and I just let myself sink into it. I’m 25 in another 6 months and I just. I don’t even know where I’m at at this point. I did feel better after I lost my job, but I also have very little recollection of what happened between then and now, besides the big things. I’m still in that fog and my sense of time is so fucked. I’m sure part of that is my physical health, but I’m just a mess of symptoms at this point. who even knows what’s what.

I’m really not a fan of the person I’ve been lately, though. overall. I’m trying. I know that a lot of it isn’t me. I’m not saying ideal me is who I am, but normal me is far from this. sick me has been avoiding getting help for too long. because it was never bad enough before. I wasn’t actively trying to hurt myself or anyone else, therefore I wasn’t in bad enough shape to need meds, according to my university health center. they were booked to capacity and didn’t have room for someone who just felt bad a lot. talking to some grad student in a family therapy program in the school of public health didn’t help. I dropped the idea entirely. figured I could deal. I kept going as-is and watched for the wrong signs of getting worse.

I feel like this isn’t me, but of course I’m responsible for my actions, hence why I’m really not thrilled with myself. mental illness isn’t an excuse, it’s an explanation. I have no excuse for the shitty things I’ve done because my depression has been making me feel reckless and impulsive.

I love volunteering at the animal shelter. that’s what’s been keeping me sane for the last year. it’s a place to go, it’s something to do. and I help. I have a real, tangible impact somewhere, and staff really appreciates my help with the smalls. that’s the one good thing I’ve been able to do with myself lately. I think starting guitar lessons was a good thing for me too, but I’m not pulling my weight with it like I should. it’s holding me back a lot that I feel like I have no creativity. I’ve never had much creativity, to be honest, but somehow I feel like maybe part of my writer’s block, so to speak, is the fact that I’m not getting enough sleep and I’m depressed as hell. I certainly listen to enough music; I’m up to my ears in references and inspiration. yet I still can’t come up with anything myself. that’s so frustrating for me. I hate playing the same songs over and over and still messing them up; I hate getting so nervous around anything with a microphone or a camera that I forget the chords and words to songs I’ve been playing for years. I know all that comes with practice, but I feel like I’m keeping myself in a rut being like this. I want to do better. I want to explore. something’s missing and I just don’t know what.

so, that’s that on that I guess. I don’t like this. but I’m just glad that I’m starting to get help. that I recognize what’s wrong and that I can’t fix it on my own. maybe whatever antidepressant my doctor puts me on will quell the impulsivity and help my cognitive function a little bit. get me a little bit closer to normal again. that’s where I want to be. I don’t have a clear idea of my ideal self. maybe the best version of me possible is just... stable. still hovering around a 4-5, but maybe with some more 6. as with my physical health, the best I can hope for is improvement. functional. better. any little step forward is something. I’ll see where I end up when I get there.

#a long post #for no one #maybe just me #talking to talk #disjointed thoughts

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arrowsbane · 7 years

Text

never judge a book

Fair warning. You may hate me after this. Or you might hate me for making you like this possibility. I know @the-all-seer does. <3 Love you darling~

Okay, so Beauty and the Beast was never my favourite fairy tale growing up. In all honesty, it was always tied between Rumpelstiltskin and the Pied Piper… but I went to school with a girl who I swear to god, is very likely to name her second daughter Belle, or failing that, her first son Adam. Like, she’s crazy scary in love with the tale. So I have had a lot of time to muse the story over, and have heard the OST far too many times to be considered healthy.

And you know what? Something that always bugged me is how pop!culture loves villains. Cough. Loki. Cough. Dracula. Cough. Freddy Krueger. Cough. The Joker. Cough. ect…

(and man, do not get me started on Loki, because I watched those movies in detail, with a psychology textbook on hand, in order to analyse that jotun boy and let me tell you: brain. washed. idiot. child. with. daddy. issues.)

So, I could totally see Belle and Gaston actually working.

No, don’t talk. Shut up and listen.

Think on this:

1. B&B was originally written as a tale to help young women cope with the idea of leaving home to get married (or so I have heard through the grapevine).

2. Also, Adam has been under that curse for a fucking long time and so is probably like three hundred years old. So don’t start with me on the age gap.

3. And finally? The curse stipulated that Adam must learn to ‘love, and be loved in return’. As in, to be able to accept that he was loved by somebody. It never said it had to be romantic love.

And yes, I’m sure his servants-turned-family quite possibly loved him, I mean, Mrs. Potts. That lady is amazing and probably loved him like a son – even if they all had a shit ton of reasons to hold a grudge. But there is no way on earth that Adam would have accepted their love. Um, Guilt. Suspicion. Brattyness. Rage. The sneaking feeling that they only stuck around because a) cursed and b) he used to pay them. Payment kinda became irrelevant during the curse, but wow talk about a shit ton of backpay, am I right?

Moving on now…

Maurice is getting older, and Belle… Belle’s not getting any younger. He wants grandchildren one day, wants his daughter to be happy, and well, marriage seems to make most women happy, right?

Unfortunately for him, Belle was born and raised in Paris – city of love and light and art. Belle wants more than to just get married and have kids and die of old age in a tiny provincial town in the middle of nowhere. Belle wants adventure and romance.

Now, Gaston. Gaston is 1000% convinced that he’s in love with her, and refuses to marry any other girl (much to the chagrin of his groupies), and so that pretty much means that as the village’s golden boy, they’re pretty much on his side for this matter and constantly saying stuff to Maurice about him.

“Such a nice young man,” one woman comments.

“He’s going to make a wonderful father,” coos an elderly grandmother.

“Excellent hunter, that Gaston,” praises the butcher, holding up six plump pheasants by their tail-feathers in one meaty fist.

So yeah, Maurice caves. He caves so hard. Because he wants what is best for his daughter… and well… Gaston is the best. Belle is not happy about this. But she’s a good girl, and quite frankly, she has absolutely no survival skills, and really loves her dad, so she does as she’s told.

So Gaston gets the girl, and they sign on the dotted line before the whole village – and this guy is the happiest fucking man on the planet.

Until they shut the door to their new home, and Belle whirls on him with all the viciousness of a wild boar. This tiny little woman, who can’t weight more than a hundred and twenty pounds, has him pinned to the wall with her eyes, is practically spitting lightning.

She tells him how it’s going to go. He might have her as a wife, but that’s in name only. They will not be sharing a bed. Or else.

And yeah, that threat sounds feeble, but Gaston’s mind goes dangerous places – he’s terrified that she’ll make sure to be seen smiling and flirting with every man in the village, and then some, and the last thing he wants is for his wife to run off with a band of gypsies. Because something worse than not have getting married to her – is the concept of getting married (an oh look, he did) and then having her leave him.

He’s not happy about this, but well… she looks scary. And serious.

And so… they just exist. And they fight. Over stupid shit.

And then he goes off to the pub and drinks himself silly with his mates, and she cries her eyes out at the dinner table with a place set for one.

There’s no fire in their hearth.

Their home is an empty façade.

And this fucking sucks.

And then one day, Gaston is in the next village over, passing through after chasing a flock of geese (bang, bang, hello dinner) and he sees this bookshop. So, y’know, he tries.

But, well… Belle is rather unimpressed at being presented with a cookbook. Like, excuse you, asshole.

He tried okay. But in all honesty, Gaston doesn’t really understand the point of books.

He says as much.

She throws the book at his head.

“What the hell woman? What kind of books do you read then?” He squawks, rather upset at having his ‘thoughtful gift’ literally thrown back in his face.

Belle sighs. He’s an idiot.

That evening, he’s sat by the fire (it’s too cold now to leave it unlit, autumn is creeping to a close), polishing and cleaning his gun. It’s his pride and joy, and a very important tool that requires proper care.

Belle cautiously settles in a nearby chair, book in hand.

“Nobody ever read you stories when you were little, did they?” She asks. It’s a thought that’s been circling in her head all day – he grew up with a father and two older brothers, mother dead from a wasting sickness – there’s no way he had somebody reading to him before bed.

“No,” he agrees, eyes unfocused from the memories, “they didn’t.”

Then Belle opens the book, and begins to read.

It’s an old story – there’s a Princess and a Dragon, and a Knight in shining armour. There’s a castle on a hill, and a kingdom that will need a King.

And… after a while, Gaston’s steady rhythm of wiping oil up and down the barrel of the gun begins to slow as he’s drawn in. Belle’s voice is steady and warm, and the heat from the fire is making him sleepy.

By the time Belle reaches the last page, the gun is set on the hearth, and they are both yawning.

And then it’s over, and time for bed.

And tentatively, Gaston asks, “Can… can you read another one tomorrow?”

Belle beams.

And that’s just what they do.

It’s ridiculous, because at first Gaston doesn’t understand what’s happening in the books, and he’s always interrupting her – to the point where Belle starts smacking his shoulder (at this point, he’s tucked into the couch with her) in order to shush him.

And then it graduates to them arguing over the plotlines and who should get the girl at the dinner table – and sometimes the breakfast table if they don’t agree to disagree the night before.

So they get along. Quite happily actually.

And they start to get to know each other.

They even sleep in the same bed – although they silently agree that sex is still off the table. For now.

Gaston loves to listen to her read, loves the way she just lights up when she talks about books, and Belle learns that his pride in shooting isn’t just a ‘let’s kill shit’ deal. It’s hard work, and he’s spent years learning. And he’s proud to be able to provide for a family.

And they fall in love.

Gaston fell in lust with Belle on a Sunday – her first Sunday there, when everybody was at church, but he falls in love with her on a Thursday. And like, he doesn’t know when he started to hear people say “oh she’s a funny one, she’s nothing like the rest of us that Belle,” and think ‘you’re only half right,’.

Belle doesn’t know when she fell in love, but it’s late on Monday afternoon when she figures it out. And it frightens her, because she’s learnt to love him, and their life together.

Sometimes she dreams about tiny children with brown hair and blue eyes, with his smile and her laughter. It scares her, because she still wants more. Still wants adventure. But at the same time, she’s happy where she is, doesn’t want to leave the home and life that they’ve built together.

It starts to twist her thoughts and dreams far more than she’d like.

And then comes the tale of two star-crossed lovers from fair Verona, on one balmy late summer’s evening.

(Oh wow. Bad idea. Abort abort abort.

The engines have stalled, and this ship may go crashing into an iceberg.)

It’s straight up the worst fight they’ve had in, well, ever…

Belle is a romantic, completely in love with the story.

And Gaston? He’s a realist – doesn’t understand what is wrong with Juliet’s parents wanting the best match possible, or see what the deal is about Paris. She’s too young to be making decisions for herself.

Why couldn’t Juliet be happy with Paris – Belle’s happy with him, right?

Right?

Belle doesn’t answer. She is. But she doesn’t want to admit it – it feels like it’d be admitting defeat.

They fight.

Oh god, do they fight.

The neighbours pretend they don’t notice, but good lord, the gossip in the morning is delightfully scandalous.

Belle goes back to her father’s house for a week.

And then he goes missing, and she goes chasing after him.

There’s a castle full of animated inanimate objects and a beast, and her father is in chains…

She trades herself without a thought – because she’s ruined her marriage, right?

Maurice tearfully flees back to the village, only to find that nobody believes him. They think he’s insane with grief because Belle is missing and there are tear tracks dried on his cheeks.

Gaston rages, grieves, panics, worries… but it doesn’t change the fact that Belle is gone.

Time passes. Things happen. Gaston sits alone in an empty home. Empty chairs are tucked into an empty table. There’s a hole in his life where the sun used to be.

Autumn fades into winter, winter melts into spring.

Eventually, in a castle hidden from the world, the spell breaks, just in time for the last petal to flutter from its bearer.

The household cheers in victory, Adam is overjoyed – thinks that he’s found his one true love.

He spins Belle around and around in his arms, and drops to one knee.

“Marry me,” He asks.

And the Belle goes very, very still.

Her hand slips out of his, and she steps backwards.

“No.”

It’s like time has frozen once more, and there is a shocked and horrified feeling in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him. “I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

And then the final blow.

“I’m married,” she reminds him. She’s sworn before God to be faithful to one man, and one man only.

Even if he probably hates her now. Even if he might think she’s dead.

“You have a whole world to explore, to see.” She tells him, once she’s packed up her things – nothing and no one can sway her, it’s time to go home. “There’s more to it that one little castle.”

Belle knows now, that there is way more to her simple provincial life than she’d ever expected there to be. That the best adventures are the ones you take with somebody else. And that marriage, is one of the grandest adventures of all.

And that is okay.

Adam… Adam learns what heartbreak feels like, but she’s very good at explaining things, and so he does what she says. He goes out into the wide world and he learns. He tries the food, and talks to people – visits Notre Dame and speaks with philosophers and scholars, dances with ladies from all over.

Belle makes her way home, letting herself into a home she hasn’t seen in many, many months.

“I’m, home,” she says to nobody.

And sets about tidying up – because apparently Gaston fails at cleaning.

She washes the dishes and sweeps the floor. She fluffs up pillows and lights the fire.

And then when he walks through the door, she smiles at him.

“Hi,” she says.

…

Gaston listens intently to her story, the whole time cradling her in his arms and barely daring to believe that she’s home safe. She tells him of a library bigger than half the villages, and of talking teapots, of singing clocks and a little tiny cup with a chip on his shoulder and the biggest smile in the world.

He listens, and he is so freaking proud of her.

She saved so many lives – and she did it all by just being herself. She did it by loving people for who they were, regardless of their shape.

She changed a beast into a man – and actually, he’s not the least bit surprised, because it wouldn’t be the first time now, would it.

Their first child is born in the spring, just after the first thaw – he’s got blue eyes (although they could change, all babies have blue eyes) and black hair.

He’s perfect.

Gaston says that they should name him Adam, and Belle cries tears of joy.

The first story they ever read to him is the story of a man trapped in the form of a Beast, and of the girl whose heart was big enough to love everybody.

Because you should never judge a book by its cover.

The End.

#beauty and the beast #gaston #belle #it could happen #haters gonnna hate #au #very very au #um... I had a dream?#fairy tale #fairy tale redeux #mine

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nxrcissamxlfoy · 7 years

Text

cotton candy fingers

pairing : ron x pansy word count : 2.1k prompt : ferris wheel date moment for : @hprarepairnet & @slytherdornet trope challenge

Pansy narrowed her eyes at her so-called best friend. “In what universe would I ever-”

Draco rolled his eyes and let out a noise of frustration. “Merlin, Pansy, for once can’t you just be a friend instead of a bitch?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said flatly, then took in how pitiful he looked and resigned with a sigh. “What do I get out of this?”

Draco knew that he’d won, but hid his smile just in case she changed her mind. “Satisfaction of helping a friend?” She just gave him a blank stare and blinked. “Alright, alright. I’ll let your shoppe style me for Mother’s next gala.”

She crossed her arms. “Next three, and you buy all the clothes.” Draco smiled his agreement, and she turned to scrutinize the curtains. “Why do you even need me there,” she scoffed.

“Hermione has it in her head that if our friends just spent some time together then you’d all... I don’t, get a long or something.”

Pansy laughed. “Oh, sure. Can’t you see the Weasley girl and I now, arm and arm in a secondhand shop?”

“Let’s clarify something right now. You have to actually try, you have to play nice; or else I’ll drape myself rags and rave about your ridiculously affordable prices.”

Apparently, a fair was just an excuse to pay money to walk around in the dirt, eat food unfit for even dogs, play obviously rigged games, ride around on death traps, and do it all surrounded by loud, sticky children. Not exactly the fun Muggle experience Hermione had spouted.

It didn’t help that Theo had bailed last minute with some bullshit excuse about work, or that Potter and his little Weasley had broken off on their own nearly instantly to no doubt commit some unbearable displays of public affection anywhere they could. The boy couldn’t even walk without his hand in her back pocket. It was sickening. And it also left her alone with the other Weasley, obscenely tall and lanky, covered in freckles and just smiling dumbly like nothing in the world could bother him.

Though, she could maybe admit to herself that she wouldn’t turn down cotton candy were it offered to her again. And, well, maybe it was a little cute watching Draco fail miserably at that ring toss game trying to win Hermione some hideous stuffed caterpillar, and pretending she didn’t seen Hermione magically guide the rings to the bottles in the end. Gross, but cute.

“I think I’ll name her... Beatrice,” Hermione chirped, smiling up at Draco as they walked ahead of Pansy and Ron.

“That’s a pretty staunch name for a neon caterpillar,” Draco responded.

Next to her, Ron made a gagging noise, to which Pansy let out a laugh before she could stop herself. She felt him eyeing her, could practically feel the air around his mouth displace as he pulled a smile. “They’re way too bloody cute,” he said. She made a hum of acknowledgement and nothing more.

“Just last week she actually fed him from her plate.”

Pansy couldn’t help herself. She stopped walking and looked up at him. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Ron stopped too, and shook his head. “Disgusting. You know he’ll just follow her around the bookstore for hours, grinning like an idiot and carrying all her books.”

Ron’s hands were shoved in his pockets. “It’s pathetic, really.” They both let out small, awkward laughs, but then a silence fell and Pansy had to consciously stop herself from squirming. She looked back to where she’d last seen her traitor of a friend and his bushy haired girlfriend, but they were gone.

“Great,” she mumbled, her eyes rolling to the sky. She looked Ron over and mentally shrugged. She’d actually tried to play nice all night, and now Draco had left her. He’d given her no choice. “So are you just going to stand there all night like a big dumb troll?” She expected an objection, or a reaction, or something, but all she got was a shrug.

“Well... I could eat again,” he said, his tone more of a suggestion, something that implied whatever they do, they do together.

It completely caught her off her guard and she said the first thing that came to her mind when she thought about eating. “Cotton candy,” she blurted, quite dumbly but she recovered quickly with a look that turned it into a demand.

He laughed. “Yeah, sure. I think there’s a cart back this way.”

“Nope, no. Absolutely not.” Arms crossed, she turned away from him, away from the death trap he was trying to lure her into.

“Oh come on,” he urged, taking her by the hand. She froze, and glanced from her hand to him. He quickly dropped it. “It’s not that bad,” he continued, pointedly ignoring how uncomfortable it had become. “Look, there are children doing it.”

Pansy looked over the railing and at the big metal gazebo of sorts, where a dozen or so people were riding in little pill shaped boxes, crashing them into one another. Dodgems, Ron had called it. There were children doing it, some with their parents, some alone, and they all seemed to be loving it.

“I’ll buy you more cotton candy,” Ron said in her ear. He was right behind her now, she could feel the heat from his body on her back. “But if you’re chicken...”

She set her jaw. “I’m trying the blue flavor this time.”

“It’s the best one really,” he said, smugger than she liked. He walked around her and they got in line. The longer they waited the more anxious she became. “You want to ride in one together, or drive one by yourself?” He asked as they neared the front of the queue. She studied the people on the ride as they moved forward, and even the Muggles, for whom this was a normal thing, seemed to be having trouble moving them around. “Parkinson we’re next,” he urged, and sure enough they were being ushered onto the metal floor.

“You just go.” She pushed his arm and he led them to a red car in the back and climbed in. His knees were nearly to his chest and there hardly seemed to be any room for her next to him. No way was she sitting that close to him, it was out of the question.

Across the floor some kid started emphatically screaming about smashing everyone and she changed her mind and climbed in next to him. “Ready?” he asked, a mischievous grin on his face. She grabbed the bar in front of her and said nothing.

“Stop, stop!” she was screaming not thirty seconds later. “No!” she cried as some little girl and her father ran into them straight on. She jerked as another car hit them in the side and was aghast to find herself clinging to Ron’s arm.

“You have to relax,” he hollered, leaning into her. “We’ve been hit loads of times now and you’re fine. Relax.” He nudged her a few times, and she eventually, albeit begrudgingly, did relax. To her surprise, it actually wasn’t all horrible. “Full speed!” he bellowed, ramming right into a car carrying a young boy, who screamed with laughter upon impact.

Pansy eyed the little wheel he’d been holding, and realized that it must be what was controlling the cart. In a rare moment of spontaneity she did something entirely fueled by adrenaline and grabbed the wheel, pulling it in her direction. “Detour!“ she cried, laughing as they headed straight for the side wall. They bounced off and she tried to move the wheel again, but they didn’t move. She glared up at Ron, because surely he was at fault, only to find him looking down at her with a bemused and slightly perplexed look in his eyes.

“It’s not moving,” she stated, trying to ignore the pang of nervous laughter. There was something about his gaze that made her suddenly self conscious.

“The rides over,” he explained, a small chuckle in his throat. He struggled and almost fell out of the car, but when he was free he held down his hand to help her out. It wasn’t done in the poised, stiff, slightly cupped manner in which every man in her life had ever tried to help her off of a simple curb, as though she were maid of glass and might break at any moment, but in a simpler way, with his arm muscles relaxed and hand naturally opened. And when he pulled her up, he literally pulled her up, like a sack of flour, like something sturdy, made of bone and muscle.

“What next?” Ron asked as they walked around, weaving through the crowd of people and ignoring the barkers. Pansy picked at her third cotton candy of the night, letting the sugar dissolve on her tongue with a content smile on her face. Ron had been wrong, blue was good, but pink was the best. “Oh, how about that one!” He pointed to a tall ride, with a swinging arm that spun riders around, back and forth, and upside down, at a ridiculous speed and way too far in the air. The sign read ‘Flaming Tornado’.

“Yeah, sure,” she said flatly, “and then after that we can go on that one.” She pointed to the ride next to it, in which people were spinning around in cars at the end of each leg of a giant spider, called ‘Arachnophobia’.

Instead of responding Ron turned on his heels and walked the other way.

“I will murder you in your sleep Draco Malfoy,” Pansy hissed, her hand clamped tight around his arm, pulling him away from Hermione and Ron. “Where in the world have you been? I’ve had to walk around with Weasley, riding death traps and listening to him ramble on about Merlin knows what.”

“You? Did what? What did you ride? The Flaming Tornado? Because that was amazing! I mean I thought flying was fun but -”

She punched him in the arm. “We’re going home now.”

Draco rubbed his arm and glared at her. “We’re almost ready. Hermione just wants to go on one more ride.” He nodded toward the ride next to them, a giant wheel, slowly spinning in the sky, It was quite possibly the tallest ride at the fair. Merlin help her.

In line, Draco and Ron took up an almost coded chat about Quidditch, while Hermione tried filling Pansy in on some recent Ministry news, but Pansy couldn’t pay attention. Dodgems were one thing, but heights were another. She almost left the line two times, but doing so would only let everyone else know that she had fears to begin with, so she stuck it out, and finally it was their turn.

She was horrified at how small the carts were, and at the fact that they hardly even stopped to let you on. She’d even hesitated so long that she skipped one, letting it rise empty into the sky.

Ron cleared his throat and shuffled in front of her. He got in first, and held his hand out. “It okay,” he said, “Muggles do this all the time.” There was something condescending in his tone and that was what snapped her out of it. Under no circumstances was Ron Weasley going to patronize her.

“Of course they do,” she huffed, and stepped right on. They were just passed the base when he chuckled. “What?” she demanded, but he just shook his head. “What?”

“I mean, I knew that would work, I just didn’t know it would work that well. You practically jumped into the cart.”

Pansy was about to smack his arm and rip into him, but then she realized they’d risen even further and her hands gripped the bar instead.

“I thought Slytherins weren’t supposed to be so easy to manipulate,” he continued.

“And I thought Weasleys were supposed to be as dumb as garden gnomes,” she retorted. “So I guess we were both surprised.”

“Oh, is that a compliment?”

“What? No, of course not.” She was quite adamant with him, but with herself she wasn’t so sure. Had it been a compliment?

“Because it sounded like a compliment.” He looked quite pleased with himself.

“I’m surprised you even know what a compliment sounds like Weasley. You are the most obnoxious, the most frustrating person I’ve ever had the displeasure of acquainting, you know that?” She waited for him to retaliate but he was just smiling that dumb, goofy smile. “What!?”

“It’s a great view from here, huh?” He looked away, out over the edge of the car. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. They were stopped at the top, and she realized that he’d just been distracting her.

From there they could see for miles; city lights, a glistening lake, and the moon hanging in the sky. She glanced at him, he was just leaning on the side of the car, looking out over the city, content as could be. She jerked her foot, lightly kicking his leg in a feeble mix of protest and gratitude.

“I guess you’re not the most obnoxious.”

#ronsy #ransy #ron x pansy #pansy x ron #dramione #slytherdornet #pansy parkinson #ron weasley #hprarepairnet #hprarepairnetchallenge #slytherdornetchallenge #mywords #hp fanfic #hp rare pairs #harry potter fanfic #harry potter rare pairs

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #210

“made of flame, made of mud, i’m the many, i’m the one.”

Did your parents live in a different country before you were born? No. Do you have a preferred coffee brand? No. What’s something you’ve experienced that very few others have? Your favorite human on Planet Earth/God Himself noticing you. :') Three days I couldn't sleep. Three. Days. Do you have to wear an identification badge at your job? I don't have a job, yet. Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money? No. If so, how did it affect the relationship? N/A How often do you paint your nails? Never. Do you know anyone who’s related to a current or former world leader? I'm related to Queen Victoria somehow. Idk about anyone else. Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional? No job, no taxes yet. What is something you don’t have any natural talent for? Mathematics. Has anyone ever told you that you get too competitive over minor things? No. Do you usually befriend your coworkers, or do you prefer to keep work separate from your personal life? N/A What was the very first thing you ever saved up to buy with your own money? I think Venus. Describe your favorite Christmas ornament. Man, I have a lot. We've accumulated A LOT over the years between me and all my siblings. Mom gets each of us one every year, and she's also kept all the ones we've made throughout school. She's so cute y'all. There is this REALLY damn pretty swirling crystal one with an angel on the top of it I got from my grandmother, that's definitely one of my faves, I've always loved this lil gingerbread dude I made in pre-k, and... idk man, there are truly a lot. What is something you frequently forget? To turn the laundry room light off anytime I go in there at night for Roman's litter scooper or to bring dirty clothes in there. By this point it's like a joke in the house with how much I do it for whatever reason. How do you feel about your body? I hate it. Who is someone you would like to get to know better? Connie, but I respect her privacy. I know you have to be careful online. What’s your opinion on assisted suicide? For it. At what point do you consider a relationship to be ‘long-term?’ Hm, idk, really. A year? What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up? Mom worked with special ed kids at school, she had a job at the hospital doing computer work I can't remember because I was so young, Dad's been a mailman all my life, but he also worked at Lowe's as a carpenter I think for a while. Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired? Mom's got a totally different job, and I already mentioned Dad being a mailman. Do you have any recurring dreams? Themes, yes; dreams, no. Have you ever had to call 911? Why? Yes; Mom and I thought she was having a heart attack. Terrifuckingfying morning. Do you get out a lot? I might as well be on fucking house arrest. I can stay in the house and go nowhere for over a week. Do you eat a lot of vegetables? No. Last fast food you ate? I had a Hardee's biscuit for breakfast. Do you live in Canada? No. What do you think when you see two members of your preferred sex kissing? It's sweet, and brave considering the assholes of the world. Is that hot? "For fuck’s sake… It bothers the hell out of me when people fangirl over homosexual couples. It’s so disrespectful." <<< THIS. Would you ever want to be a chef? No. Bonfires: Y/N? They're fun. What’s a food that’s famous in your hometown/state/country/etc? Southern cooking, like fried chicken, mashed potatoes, hushpuppies, pulled pork, nasty shit like that. By pure coincidence, I literally hate almost all the "traditional" Southern foods. When’s that last time you saw snow? January this year. I think it was January... What’s something that you think will become obsolete in the next 50 years? Physically driving cars, probably. Are you efficient or do you procrastinate a lot? I procrastinate all to hell. Who are the 3 people you love the most? Mom, Sara, and then... idk if I can pick #3. Last person you slept in the same bed with? Sara. When was your first kiss? March 2012. Have you recently been sick? No. What song are you listening to? "Break My Mind" by dAGAMES. Would you marry someone if they were unable to have sex? Yeah. Have you ever made a boyfriend or girlfriend cry? Sadly. Does heartbreak really feel as bad as it sounds? It's worse. Weed, coke, crack, heroin, oxy, acid, x, k, peyote, mushrooms, opium…How many of these have you tried? I have no clue what like three of these even are lmao. None. How long has it been since you had sex? Like over three years. Who was the last person to call you babe? Probably Sara. Last reason you went to the ER? My sister got in a wreck. Were you a planned pregnancy for your parents? I believe so. Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth? Yeah. When was the last time you shaved your legs? It's been many months. My legs are AWFUL, but it is an absolute chore to shave or use Nair because my hair is so long and thick. So I figure if there's very little/no chance someone's going to see my legs, why even do it. I really wanna get laser hair removal on my legs when I can afford it, though. What facial cleanser do you use? A Biore charcoal scrub. If someone wanted to know what you smelt like, what should they smell? I don't know? Probably dogs, lmao? How many purses do you own? One I use, then I have... two or three old ones saved just because I really like them. What are your top five favorite stores to clothes shop? Hot Topic, Rebel's Market, Spencer's, rue21, and... idk. I guess Wal-Mart lmao. What kind of clothes do you mostly wear? Yoga/dance/sweatpants with a tank top, graphic tee, or band tee. What about shoes? Flip flops like, year-round lol. If I do wear something else for whatever reason, it'll probably be my Vans or maybe a pair of Converse. Have you ever cheated on the significant other that you have now? No. For that one week a month, do you hate being a woman? Nah, birth control's made cramping a far smaller problem. Last thing you bought at the mall? Wow, I have no idea. Well... maybe a book before the hurricane to read if the power went out? I haven't read it if you're wondering, aha... Do your parents like your boyfriend/girlfriend? Yeah. Dad's met her once, but he seemed to enjoy her just fine, and Mom adores her. What store did you last buy clothes from? Wal-Mart. Which parent are you more similar to? I have traits aligning with each of them. I think my mom, but then again, I don't see my dad nearly enough to know his personality deeply since he changed IMMENSELY after the divorce. Have you ever been to another country’s capital city? No. What are some of your favorite qualities for another person to have? Compassion, wisdom, an open mind, gentle, passionate, a good sense of humor... What smell reminds you of your childhood? Chlorine, I guess. I swam a LOT as a kid; it was my favorite activity. Are you happy with who you are? In some ways, in some ways no. Do you ever sleep with your bedroom windows open? No; we live beside a busy road, and plus I don't trust people. Have you ever had a job where you didn’t fit in with your coworkers? No. What was the last word document you typed? I made a brief outline of the message I'm sending to the client who hired me for her wedding when I send her her pictures. Thanking her and telling her what more I could do for her, stuff like that. What’s something that has upset you lately? The extreme difficulty of finding a job for myself... Do you have a home security system? No, but damn do I want one. What’s something you don’t think people take seriously enough? If you know the darker part of my photography, roadkill. People see it and either think 1.) "poor thing" or 2.) "dumb thing," and that's it. No one seems to truly consider our responsibility to watch for animals on the road; in most instances I've seen, the animal is blamed for being "stupid." No, they're fucking terrified and panicking. Anyway, I'm going on a tangent. Basically, I think we should feel far more pity for what we end, even though it's accidental. And get out of the fucking car to see if it's okay/can be saved. Have you ever gotten sick from someone else’s cooking? I believe so, but I don't really blame the cook. My stomach is just REALLY sensitive to food it's not used to, particularly fancier meals. What was the last kind of cheese you ate? American. How young is too young to be sexually active? "Personally, I think anything under 18." <<< Same. Would you ever dye your hair silver? I wanted to at some point, but particularly with my hairstyle now, idk how good it'd look. What was the last fun thing you did? Shot a wedding. Have you ever dated someone who had a child from a previous relationship? No. Is there any drama currently going on with your family? No. What’s your favorite kind of soup? I'm not a fan. Do you know anyone who practices Hinduism? No. How long was your longest relationship? Three and a half years. When was the last time you spoke to the first person you ever kissed? February 2017. What’s a political issue you have a strong opinion on? Gay rights. What snacks do you like to get at the movie theater? Just popcorn is fine. If I have any candy, it's from a gas station or dollar store. Movie theater prices are expensive as fuck. Have you ever stayed in a hotel in the center of a big city? No. What was the last fruit or vegetable you chopped/sliced up? Romaine lettuce for my iguana. When you take a nap, do you nap in bed or on the couch? In bed. Do you have any friends you have never gotten into an argument with? Yeah, Connie. Girt and I have also never really had an argument, he's just said things that hurt me as his sense of humor can be a bit harsh and they were sensitive areas, but he's never meant it. Do you think you could survive living by yourself for a month? No. Can you cook anything other then toast? Yeah. How many times have you cried over the last person you cried over? I don’t remember the last person that I cried over. Have you ever been in an on-and-off relationship? So annoying right? No. Have you ever developed a crush on someone the first day you met them? I don’t think so. Have you ever been with someone who was really clingy? Did it annoy you? For only two weeks. I like to pretend that shit never happened. Is there a store you go to so much the employees know your name? The tattoo/piercing parlor I go to know me well; some probably remember my name. Do you have any friends who never shut up about their boyfriend/girlfriend? One literally only talks to me if she wants to ramble endlessly about him. Have you ever helped someone while they were drunk puking? No. There is NO way I could be with someone while they're vomiting. The sound would make me join in, and that's almost a promise. What annoys you more to do, sneeze or cough? Cough. Would you rather have a pet snake or a pet cat? I want another snake. Do you fall for all the lines about making guys/girls like you on magazine covers? Lmao yeah right. Do you have a calendar in your room? What’s it’s theme? My door is currently open so I can't see for sure, but I have three or four outdated meerkat calendars as decoration. Have you ever gotten anything racist about you yelled at you? No. Does the last person whose house you were at like anyone? She's married, so obviously. Do you own more pink or black clothes? Just about everything is black. Has a boyfriend/girlfriend ever given you a stuffed animal? Yeah. What does the last body wash you used smell like? I think it's some kind of ocean-y scent? I don't pay attention. I just know it's blue. What is the worst name anyone has ever called you? A martyr, and not the good kind. Where is your favorite place to eat out? Sonic. Does it bother you when people call you ‘ma'am’ or 'sir?’ No. That's general good manners in the South. Have you ever been obsessed with a television character? I don't think so, but maybe? What was the last thing that changed your life completely? Recovery. Do you have any step siblings? One. I don't call him my brother, though. Did you partake in senior skip days? HA I sure did. Have you ever read the Christian Bible? Not the entire thing. When the holidays come around, do you help decorate? Yeah. Has someone ever promised not to leave you? NEVER IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE BELIEVE THAT SHIT. Do you have a part-time job? No. Are you the type of person who likes to buy gifts for your friends? If I had my own money, I absolutely would. Hopefully I can when I have a job... though I don't exactly have many people to send anything to. Have you ever lived in an apartment before? I wasn't an actual resident, though I was pretty much always there. Have you ever been questioned by the police? No. Are you close to your parents? Yeah. Have you ever had to be put on medicine for a mental disorder? For most of my life. Have you ever been responsible for someone’s death? Wow, no. Do you ever spend the night with your significant other? Well, we're long distance. We do when we visit each other. Do you know a lot about serial killers? No. Have the police ever been looking for you? Ha ha yes, but only because my sister, friend, and I went walking on the beach at night, and apparently Mom didn't hear us when we told her we were going... Have you ever been in a car accident? Yes. Do you cuss more than any one else you know? Tbh probably lmao. How old is your youngest cousin? I don't know. Do you tend to talk on the phone a lot? No. Have there ever been any serial killers around your hometown? I don't believe so. When was the last time you went to a museum? When my brother and nephew were here early this month. Do you know how to shoot a gun and hit a target? No. What turns you on the most? Don't grab my boobs. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yes. Do you answer the phones at your work? N/A What’s your ring tone? The Revaleso remix of "Dear Insanity" by Asking Alexandria. The text alert sound is the chime of picking up a gem in Spyro. Do you want to fix anything with anyone? Yeah. Did you wake up in the middle of the night last night? I do literally every night. It sucks. What shows do you watch? None. Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. When you were in elementary school, did you change best friends a lot? No. Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? No. Who was the last person to give you a ride somewhere? My VR counselor drove me home the other day. What’s the scariest bug you’ve ever seen? I'm sure some kind of beetle. Not a fan of beetles. What was your favorite TV show you watched as a kid? Pokemon. :') How many times a day do you tell your parents you love them? Mom, at least once when she leaves for work. Dad, I barely ever see him, so. I don't daily. Ever talk to your pets? Of course I do. I talk to them like I talk to people. Do you think it’s alright if people baby talk to babies? ... Yes???? At a certain age you need to set an example to talk correctly, as the kid is going to copy you, but as a baby, no shit it's fine? Ever take a nap in a hammock? I may have fallen asleep, maybe not. Probably not tho 'cuz I would've been afraid of bugs (the hammock was between two trees directly outside the woods in our backyard), so I've likely just dozed for a bit, if anything. Who’s the best character in Rugrats? Oh boy, I don't remember them all. I know I liked Tommy, but I mean, he was the main character, so I guess that's to be expected for a little kid, mostly seeing him. Ever get caught doing something naughty with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No. Who has had the biggest impact on your life? Jason. Girls: ever wear boxers? Guys: ever wear a thong? No. Do you use q-tips to clean your ears? DON'T DO THAT. I got wax adhered to both eardrums because I did that frequently; it inevitably pushed things back and dried onto them. NOT fun getting it sucked out; hurts like a bitch. Always only use them for the outside of your ears. This has been a PSA. Ever want to make out with someone, anyone, didn’t matter who? No. Ever had your feelings hurt when you knew the person was joking? That is EASY, friendo. Do you make jack-o-lanterns during Halloween? Sometimes. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No. Cats, awesome pets or Satan in disguise? I love cats. When you buy/receive new clothes, do you instantly wear them or wash first? Wash them. Do you hate using public restrooms? VERY MUCH. I will avoid using one at almost all costs. What’s the weirdest item you’ve seen for sale on Ebay? Oh my fucking god. So one night my friend Chelsea and I were up REALLY late and were loopy as fuck and this bitch started looking up weird dildos and shit and I'm not even remotely kidding, she found a huge 50 lb. butt plug. I sincerely wish I was joking. Do you check to make sure there’s TP before using the restroom? Yeah. Do you drunk dial/text? I've never been drunk. Have you ever built a massive snow fort? No. We don't get enough snow here. Are parents to blame for what their kids do on the Internet? Not entirely. Do you use acronyms to remember things? I did in school. Do you take pills like Tylenol for the littlest aches and pains? No. When was the last time you went rollerskating? WOW I don't know, but it's been a long time. Do you call people “dude” a lot? Yes. Who was your favorite Ninja Turtle? I was never into them. Horror flicks make you: laugh, scream, or squirm? Out of those, I may ever only squirm at nasty shit. If you could become a doctor, what would you specialize in? Probably ophthalmology (eye doctors). The last time I went to the eye doctor, I got way too into the science and anatomy of the eyes and such. You woulda thought I saw God when I realized I could see the veins in my eyes during that "lemme shine this light straight into your eyes" tests; I thought it was SO cool. Well, I probably realized this at previous appointments, I just didn't remember. Hm, or maybe a pathologist, that'd be cool. I'm looking through a list of doctors, yes. What’s the cutest thing a little kid has ever said to/in front of you? Probably just "I love you" and stuff like that from my niece and nephew. Ha ha aw, wait... When my brother and older nephew were here, Christian exclaimed, "She's up!", like the MOMENT I moved in bed one morning. I'm so happy to say that kid loves me. He wore me the HELL out in the course of just three days, but man, I miss the lil dude now. That occasion in particular just really sticks out to me because I do not find myself good with kids, and to just hear how excited he was that I was up meant the world to me. Apparently I was fun enough. At what age do you plan on moving out? I hope in like... two more years, maybe less. I need a stable job, a car, but I also DO NOT want to live alone, so I'd want to wait until Sara was ready to move, too. I'm beyond thankful Mom isn't rushing me in the least, she seems happy I live here actually, but I don't want to be in her hair much longer nonetheless. I have to be an adult. Did any characters from TV shows scare you as a kid? Which one(s)? King Ramses from Courage the Cowardly Dog fuck-ing TERRIFIED me. His animation was unique to what was normal in the show, so that automatically stood out as different and weird, but more than anything, I was just so scared by his voice and repetitive lines. I had nightmares of that shitlord. HA HA OH MAN I REMEMBER THIS TOO: When I visited my aunt and uncle's when I was little, my family slept on the floor in a room downstairs, and there were small trees outside the window that would sway, and the outline on the curtains would make me think of him. I remember waking Mom up one night about it, and I think she gave me something for comfort, but idr what. What’s the saddest thing you’ve heard on the news recently? In my very own fucking state, consent can no longer legally be revoked when sex begins. Fuck this place. How long does it take before you trust a person? It depends on the person. It's usually a while, though. Have you ever made a time capsule? What did you put in it? Hm... I feel like I have? Wait yeah, I did in elementary school! It was a class effort. Idr where it was buried. What would you do if your mom or dad read your diary/journal/blog? My mother would be deeply concerned that my love of Mark runs as deep as it does, meanwhile my dad would be v v v confused. They would mutually be very worried of their daughter's willingness to eradicate the fools of the population and replace them all with miniature Fischfucks. Do you know anyone with a lisp? I may? I don't exactly have a lisp, but in certain words, I pronounce "s" weakly due to my tongue piercing getting in the way, but it's very mild. If you were to break a Guinness Record, which one would you try and beat? Idk. What’s the coolest item in your room? I'm not sure, I find a lot of things in here particularly cool for various reasons. Hence why it's so heavily decorated. I guess my favorite is probably the Japanese, limited edition Silent Hill: Revelation flyer I have framed on the wall. I won it in a giveaway and I love it alskdjfklajwer. I wanna collect more SH merch, man. Are you accident-prone? Yes, due to my own lack of common sense and clumsy nature. As a kid, what was your favorite activity on the playground? I BOLTED for that swing. Are huge muscles gross or sexy? I'm not a fan of extreme muscles. Have you ever fished and caught something weird? Phew, I grew up fishing all the time with Dad. I'm certain I have. Well, I caught a catfish by the eye, but only the method's weird there, lol. I still to this day feel so bad for the fella. Is old age catching up with you? In my back and knees lmao. Can you sleep through thunderstorms? Yes. Ever spent the night in a tent? Yes. Do people confide in you? Some do. Ever been around someone who makes you feel stupid? He doesn't intend to, he's just reeeaaally fucking smart. Actually, that goes for my brother, too. I knew he was very intelligent, but holy shit, when he was here last and I actually got to hear more about him, his beliefs, and general knowledge, dude's a genius. How many college degrees do you want? Either up to Bachelor's or Master's. For my career goal of being an out-in-the-field zoologist, I need the latter. Do you like animals? SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Yes; my high school senior project was at least one. There's other personal stories I wrote as a kid, too. Can you snap your fingers? Yes. Can you wink? My right eye, yes. I can with my left eye, but not without my face distorting pretty badly. What song explains how you feel about love? *shrugs* Does hardship make a person stronger? It depends on what they take from it. What comes to mind when you think of pregnancy? Ew please never. Have you ever attended a professional sporting event? Yeah, hockey games with Dad. What is your favorite brand of clothing? I don't have one. Which do you value more, intellect or work ethic? Work ethic. How well do you know the people you live with? Well, I live with my mom, who I've lived with my whole life, and we're very close, if that answers the question. Do you have any heroes? *blinks* Ever been to a cabin on a mountain? No, I wish. Ever lost your voice? At least once. Are you a cautious person? Yes. Meet Anxiety, baby. Do you enjoy comedy shows? Yeah. Do you chew gum? Sometimes, rarely. Do you think a lot when taking a shower? Not really. I just enjoy whatever music I have on. Are you currently charging your phone? No. Do you ever get razor rash? No. Are you a private person? It depends on the subject. If you straighten your hair, do you always use hair spray? N/A Do you curl your hair often? It's too short to be curled. What’s the earliest you’ve ever woken up for school? Idk. Probably around 5:00-5:30 if I was getting ready for a special day or something. Can you get ready in under 10 minutes? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that you were a bad kisser? No. Do you like Frostys from Wendy’s? Hell yeah. Would you ever sleep in the same bed as your sibling? Sure, if we had no other choice. Ever taken a shower with someone? My little sister and I did all the time as kids, I'm guessing to save water. Would you consider yourself to be a creative person? Yes. Do you usually take a nap during the day? Yes, usually. Might you enjoy hanging out in the woods for day or two? HELL YEAH!!!!!! So long I have my camera and company, that'd be awesome!!! Do you suffer from frequent paranoia? Eh, not as badly as I used to. Two friends whom have been there for you the most? Sara and Girt. If you/your gf became pregnant accidentally, would you consider abortion? If it was my own fault for not using protection, I couldn't do it; then that's my own foolishness. I would regardless if my life was endangered, though. I do believe abortion is killing a living being once brain activity begins, but I believe in the right to put yourself first. If a complete stranger picked a fight with you, would you fight or flight? Flight if possible. Defend myself when necessary. Have you ever decided to set fire to something out of anger? No. Would you rather be a house pet or a wild animal? House pet, so long as my owner is a good one that truly loves me. Wild animal would be much more dangerous, and besides, I like the idea of companionship. Can you juggle more than two objects at once? lol I probably couldn't even juggle two. Can you function well on little to no sleep? Eh. I'm cranky for sure, but I can function. Well... depending. If I am REALLY tired, I won't be able to keep my eyes open. Do you find that it is difficult to maintain your mood? Even on medication, I'm still bipolar (not using that as an adjective; I'm legitimately diagnosed with it). My mood can change VERY quickly with tiny stimuli, but at a much, much milder degree. Have you ever listened to a group of chanting Monks? (if not you should) No, but it's cool! Two sports that you are horrible at? Tennis and volleyball. The latter mostly just hurts like a bitch. One thing that you would like to change about your life? My job situation. What was the last candy you ate? Sour gummy worms. Which decade was your favorite for fashion trends? Idk. I'm really not educated enough on what was trendy for each one. Do you like the current fashion trends? I pay no attention. Who is the strangest (or one of the strangest) person you’ve met? I won't give away his name as it's a pretty unique one, but there was a kid in high school who was certainly different in both good and bad ways. He was pretty unstable. Made his own religion. What are you struggling with currently? Finding a mfckn job. Do you forgive yourself for your mistakes? Most, I'd say. Have you ever been abused by a police officer? No. Name one friend who had a parent who was in jail. A cousin of mine. Has anyone tried to kill you and then played the victim? No? What is your favorite board game? I like Battleship and Scrabble. Can you remember the last time you played a board game? A few months back with Sara and Girt. Actually Scrabble, lol. List three traumatic memories you have. The only truly traumatic memory I have is the breakup. Well, I guess a nightmare I had with my dad kinda is too, seeing as it still affects my trust today? Have you ever been misdiagnosed with something by a bad doctor? Yup. How the fuck did I have ADHD, woman. If you don’t mind my asking, when was the last time you had diarrhea? Like about two weeks ago before my period started. That's starting to seem like a theme. Do you prefer sunny days or cloudy days? I like partly cloudy. Do you have a painful past? A good chunk of it. But I mean, who doesn't have some rough paths behind them. What was the best time of your life? Walking through Chicago with Sara and her dad one night was INCREDIBLE. Coming from the middle of nowhere into such a colossal city with all these lights and such was such a shock to me, and exploring it with them was super cool. It was cold as fuck, but still, it was fun. When was the last time you were hugged? Idk. Well, probably last time I was at Ashley's saying bye to everyone. Do you trust your doctor? Yes. Name something God has healed you of. HAHAHAHA. If applicable, how old were you when you got "saved?" I was raised into religion, so I don't know. I grew up "saved." Have you been baptized, and if so, where? Yes, at my childhood church.

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