#but simultaneously like. gave me a very different perspective on why i leaned more that way before

[stoportotouch]

i think my chief Complaint with the tv adaptation of the terror is that it doesn't do enough to really twist and warp the themes of overwhelming christianity until they're completely unrecognisable (or, better, still very recognisable but now bleeding and frothing rather than seen how the men would have seen them).

fortunately, of course, the main use that i still find for my knowledge and understanding of the liturgy is doing exactly that in my writing. so, you know, keep an eye open.

[kaepop-trash]

i love unintended consequences and all those little snippets you’ve written for it 🥺 i hope it’s not too much to ask but i would really like to see how johnny would pamper her when she’s pregnant/deal with the pregnancy side effects and him as a dad 🧸no pressure tho, stay safe and drink lots of water!

I loved this ask so much because I think most people feel nervous talking about the more unsavoury parts of pregnancy. I've heard people talk about how terrible some stuff was, including the decisions that should be made. I always write keeping in mind that this is a predominantly young audience and if I'm going to write for them, I might as well try to give a more honest, mature perspective on these things. Thanks for letting me explore this anon!

You didn't mention it so I kept this more fluffy and didn't add any smut.🙈

I'd gladly write more of this anytime.

WC: 2.5k

___

(Y/N) got up from the couch immediately when Sooyoung came and stood in front of her. It was Johnny who grabbed Sooyoung's arm before she could, helping her sit down comfortably. She gave him a grateful smile before turning to (Y/N).

"I can't believe I'm having twins." She sighed, grinning nonetheless.

"You definitely look like you're having twins." She looked down at the space between them, Sooyoung's belly bigger than what Joohyun's had been at eight months.

"I feel like it too." She mumbled, turning to Johnny, "Have you seen my husband?" She asked.

"He's speaking to your doctor on the phone, trying to get a room. Should I go get him?" Johnny asked dutifully, already getting out of his seat. Sooyoung smiled in a way that (Y/N) could distinguish, but Johnny just cluelessly waited.

"No, that's okay, Johnny. I'm sure he'll find his way back. Why are you so nervous?" She chuckled, grinning wider when Johnny fumbled.

"You're about to go into a room to give birth to two children simultaneously. I don't know why you aren't nervous." He gave her an uncomfortable smile, rubbing the back of his neck when both (Y/N) and Sooyoung laughed.

"I've been having contractions for 16 hours now. The only thing I want right now is for them to just come out." Sooyoung groaned as another one hit her, reaching for the paper cup in (Y/N)'s hand with the now practically melted ice chips.

"I'll go see where Mark went with the ice." Johnny eyed the cup. "(Y/N) will be here with you." He pointed at his own wife, giving her a serious nod before walking away.

Sooyoung turned to (Y/N) with the same smile as earlier. "He's very sweet." She grinned.

(Y/N) gasped as a joke, putting a hand over her mouth. "It took you seven years to realise that? Motherhood is changing you already." She laughed when Sooyoung shoved her shoulder with her own.

"I've always known it obviously. Do you think I would have let you marry just anyone?" Sooyoung scoffed. "What I mean is, he's being very sweet about this." She pointed at her belly. "Makes me wonder why you haven't thought about it yet. You've always wanted kids." Sooyoung said a little slowly, trying to avoid her gaze.

"We've talked about it obviously." (Y/N) looked away, "We've talked about it a lot." She blushed, thinking back to all the “talking” they did.

"But?" Sooyoung questioned. "Is he scared or something?" She furrowed her brows.

(Y/N) scoffed, "It's not him.” She laughed, pushing her hair back. There was a pause as (Y/N) tried to put into words a sentiment she had been holding close to her chest for a long time now. "I think I need to quit my job before I think about having a child. It's–" She winced, "I don't want somebody else to raise my child while I'm at a job I hate. You know how I will about that.” She paused again, biting down on her tongue.

"So quit." Sooyoung shrugged, rolling her eyes when (Y/N) looked up at her with a tired look.

"It's not that simple." She fidgeted with her hands.

"Yes it is." Sooyoung put a gentle palm on her best friend's hand, "You already know what you want. You're afraid to stop working because you've done it your entire life and because it’s all you’ve seen growing up. But it's fine, we all have to move on from old things to make way for new ones."

"It's not just that." She sighed

"(Y/N)." Sooyoung's voice was stern, "I think at this point it's a little unfair to Johnny if you still think that you need to be a contributor for him to respect you. I don't say anything because I know that after everything you struggled through, being successful was important to you. I know." Sooyoung paused, the tightening grip on (Y/N)'s arm signalling another contraction.

(Y/N) checked her watch, "That was 10 minutes, you're almost there." She encouraged her through the pain, rubbing her back soothingly. Once it passed, she sat back with a sigh.

"Just quit. Spend a year with your husband, think about kids then. If later you think different, you're qualified enough to find a job anywhere. Make mistakes, (Y/N). But don't just sit like a lame duck. Life's too short to waste it between decisions." She spoke as the pain slowly subsided.

"You're already gaining your mom wisdom." (Y/N) smiled endearingly at her, grateful for having the most loving people around her.

"It's all the reflection I do between the late night tossing I do because my stomach is too big." Sooyoung groaned as another contraction hit her already.

Mark finally stumbled from the corner with a paper cup in his hands, curse words spilling out of his mouth as he approached till a passing nurse clicked her tongue at him.

___

“I want one.” She sighed, putting her head on top of the finally cooing baby. For an hour now, Johnny and (Y/N) tried their best to get the twins to stop crying.

Sooyoung and Doyoung finally went to bed a while back and Mark lay sprawled on the couch, passed out after his turn to watch the new members of the family.

"Yeah?" Johnny whispered, lips tugging. He rocked the other one in his arm, positively gleaming. It made her heart flutter.

She sighed a little deeper, hugging the baby closer to her chest, “Yeah.” She nodded. “But–” She stopped to lick her lips, feeling like she was shielding herself with the child. Johnny’s smile fell and she shortened her hesitation. “I want to quit my job.” She took a deep breath to help find courage, “My mom was always working and I love her, I really do. She’s taught me how to survive by myself, how to prioritise my worth over everything.” She paused when the baby in her lap cooed, gazing down to look at her with a smile. “But when I look back, my fondest memories involve Sooyoung’s mom. She taught me how to cook, how to care, how to be compassionate.” She felt a lump building in her throat.

“Sooyoung’s mom was the person I called when I broke my arm, she was the one who advised me when I had my first heartbreak.” (Y/N) closed her eyes, “I love my mom, I want to give my children her values.” She took a shaking breath, terrified of her own words. “But I want to be the person my children come to when they want comfort.” She hugged Sooyoung's daughter, thinking about the loving life she would have.

“You don’t have to justify yourself, (Y/N).” Johnny said tenderly. “But I appreciate that you wanted to share that. I know you don’t talk about your parents. You carry so much by yourself.” He slid closer to her, resting the baby down on his lap. “I know you never make a decision without beating yourself about it constantly. If you think it’s what you have to do, I’m always going to have your back. That’s marriage.” Johnny looked down when the baby reached his arms out, laughing and picking him back up to rock again.

“Okay.” She nodded, “I’m going back home and quitting. We can talk about this properly then.” She felt overwhelmed.

Johnny bit down on his lip, looking at his friend’s son and then covering his ears, “We can start trying now though, right?” He wiggled his brows.

She sat back and laughed as quietly as she could, “I don’t think he can understand you.”

“Let’s not risk it with Doyoung and Sooyoung’s kids, yeah? Doyoung nags and Sooyoung scares me.” He sounded serious.

She laughed a little more, earning a babble of approval from her friend’s newborn daughter.

___

Johnny woke up at the sound of the bathroom door shutting. He slipped out of bed, noting the time on the bedside clock and sighing. He rubbed the sleep out of his house and ventured to the kitchen.

He knocked on the bathroom door softly, smiling when he heard a grunt.

"Just leave me alone." He heard her say softly. Johnny grinned, opening the door.

"But you're so sexy when you're heaving." He spoke as he entered, frowning when he saw her on the floor trying to keep her head up, dizzy again. Johnny put the glass of gingerale he came with down on the counter, wordlessly coming to sit behind her. He pulled her between his legs, rubbing soothing circles on her back. She rested her head back on his chest and Johnny tried to pat off the sweat on her forehead.

She gave him a grateful smile, one he mirrored despite her eyes being closed.

"I'm so tired of this." She sighed, "Does that make me a bad human being?" She whispered reluctantly.

Johnny clicked his tongue, "It makes you human." He pushed more of her hair back, just in time for her face to contort as he leaned over the toilet again.

"Five more months, baby." Johnny tried to lighten the mood, chuckling when she sat back and elbowed his side.

"Don't make me hit you." She warned, earning a quick okay from him.

They sat there for a while, when she looked like she wasn't going to puke again he poked her cheek.

"You want to take a shower? It always makes you feel better." He offered. She gave him an exhausted nod.

"I'll do it, you go back to bed. You have work tomorrow." She started moving away from him but he stopped her, turning her gently to face him.

"We're in this together, (Y/N)." He reminded her, hand going to her slowly emerging belly.

"It's just a shower." Despite her words, her eyes were drenched with gratitude.

"It's just work." He countered, slowly helping her get off the floor. She tugged on his arm, making him look down.

"You're perfect, do you know that?" She told him with glistening eyes.

"A few hours ago you were blaming me for knocking you up." He tapped his chin.

"I'm more changeable than usual lately." She shrugged.

___

Johnny grabbed (Y/N)’s arm to help her sit down. It was one of the less comfortable days of her second trimester and the long car ride it took to get to the vacation home wasn't helping.

"Wow," Yuta laughed, sitting back on the couch. "Look at how big you've gotten. There's a whole baby cooking inside you." He sounded equal parts amazed and amused.

"Shut up." She frowned, "If you choose now out of all possible moments to talk about the magic of childbirth I will make you rub my swollen feet." She threatened him, making Yuta lift his arms in surrender.

As she said that, she turned over to put her feet in her husband's lap. Johnny didn't need to look down to start rubbing them.

"What did he do?" Yuta laughed, pointed at Johnny.

"Get me pregnant, for starters." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And it's already huge because of his giant genes too." She tried to re-adjust herself at the new angle. Johnny noticed her fumbling, reaching for a pillow and putting it behind her back.

"You love me." Johnny kissed the air between them. "She loves me." He turned to Yuta,earning a scoff from both of them.

The doorbell rang and Mark spoke from the kitchen saying he'd get it.

"Oh my god, (Y/N)" Jungwoo said when he walked into the room with Yeri in tow. "You've become huge!" He gasped, pouting when Yeri smacked his arm.

(Y/N) turned to Johnny, an annoyed pout already dancing on her lips. "I'm starting to believe that this weekend getaway was a bad idea." Johnny laughed, reaching one hand over to squeeze her hand.

"Haechan isn't even here yet." Johnny reminded her, eyes turning up with delight when she groaned.

"If one more person talks about how big I am, I'll sit on them." She warned.

Johnny grinned and almost immediately she regretted her words.

"Come here, big girl." He extended his arms and beckoned her to him. She threw a pillow with an annoyed whine.

___

(Y/N) woke up out of habit more than anything else, eyeing the clock on the table first and then realising that the monitor was uncharacteristically silent for what was feeding time. When she turned over, she smiled and understood why.

Before she even reached the door, she could hear Johnny cooing at their newborn. A tired smile of unabashed pride rising on her lips.

"You're going to get so big and strong." Johnny cooed, once she came to the door, (Y/N) saw him dangling a toy over the child's outreached arms. "You're already such a good baby, aren't you? You get that from your mom I can tell." Johnny sniggered to himself, "You don't to cry or fuss." He leaned down to kiss their forehead.

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe, watching the exchange with an amused smile.

"But you're always reaching for your mom. Always looking around for her. You get that from me." There was a glow of pride in his eyes. "We're both a little lost without your mum around, aren't we?" He rocked up and down till he heard a small giggle, a short laugh leaving his lips at the sound.

Johnny put the toy down to reach for the bottle on the table and (Y/N)'s heart squeezed with more love for her incredibly thoughtful husband.

"I can't believe you're my little baby." Johnny grinned as eager, tiny hands reached out to grab the bottle. "I'm going to teach you how to throw a ball and give you your first beer someday. Maybe we can both learn how to make your mom's cake." Johnny laughed to himself, "I'm going to love you so much." Johnny scrunched his nose when a little hand wrapped around his finger. "I'm the luckiest man in the world and you're proof, you know that?" He whispered, eyes glowing despite the dim light in the room. "All this because your mom thought I was a hairy ghost." He giggled to himself.

"You need to stop talking about that." She finally gave in, speaking up. Johnny looked up, wide eyed before grinning when he saw her. "Plus, it was a witch."

Johnny laughed, tired but content. "Just know now. I'm going to tell our kids this till they're sick of this story. Then I'm going to tell their friends and their spouses. Even the other's kids are going to grow up listening to our story." Johnny stuck his tongue out at her before giving her a love struck smile as she came closer, "We're my favourite story." He leaned over to kiss her forehead as she stood in front of her husband and child.

"I thought that was Iron Man?" She raised a brow.

"Oh damn." Johnny winced, "Tough choice." He clicked his tongue. She rolled her eyes at him, reaching down to tickle the baby's belly.

___

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I’ll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[mallowstep]

I'd love to hear some ✨StarClan Slander✨ from you

starclan fucking sucks and i'm not afraid to say it.

ugh. where to begin.

okay, starclan sucks in a lot of different ways. like, a lot. it sucks from a narrative perspective, it sucks from a lives-of-cats perpsective, and it sucks from a worldbuilding perspective.

like: starclan is incredibly inconsistent as worldbuilding. it. gah. that part is most in my control when i write, so i try to really like. maximize said control. but if you compare the description of fireheart getting his nine lives to any modern starclan scene, it pisses me off. starclan is so fucking Cool, and now it's not.

i could go on for a while, but it's more of the same.

and then from a narrative perspective like. it causes so many problems. and i don't mean starclan causes problems for the characters, i mean starclan is simultaneously the cause of a lot of problems while the narrative wants us to believe they are the good guys. starclan causing problems? interesting. starclan causing problems but they're Very Good Actually? lazy.

this is a small thing but like it bothered in tbc? okay so. the fact that the clans' relationship to starclan has changed doesn't bother me. it's really interesting. they've been through this time of massive upheaval, something which often correlates with this uptick in spirituality.

i do not need convincing to believe that as the clans have gone through these past ten or fifteen years, with an exodus and the whole great battle (even setting aside the religious implications and just focusing on: big battle, lots of betrayal, lots of death), and everything with skyclan and darktail, yeah!

like, there was a spiritualism wave in the us after the civil war because that's what people/humanized cats do in those times. they latch on to spirituality and religion. why do you think witchcraft is on an uptick again in modern times?

however the problem is the Narrative never acknowledges this, which makes it feel not like an intentional culture change but authors being lazy. i'm not sure what's worse: authors just leaning on starclan because it's interesting and easy, or authors simply failing to convey the nuances of culture change.

whichever makes the erins sound better, pick that one. i have no lost love for them, but i try to keep my criticisms factual.

anyway, i digress, here's my favourite example:

in tbc, it's this Big Deal how the moonpool is the place of the medicine cats, and other cats cannot enter, Nope No Sir, which, like, really fucking confused me.

what?

do leaders not speak with starclan anymore? is that. is that not a thing?

i mean, in tpb, leaders visit the moonstone all the time. apprentices visit it before coming warriors. it's pretty normal.

and i'm fine with the culture of the clans changing for the moonpool to be a medicine cat exclusive: that does not fundamentally bother me. there's even the smallest nod to this idea in po3, during outcast, when they mention that the tradition of going to the moonstone/pool has fallen out of favour, and maybe that's bad.

and like, yeah, okay: i don't really understand Why it fell out of favour, especially in thunderclan. thunderclan had the Longest journey to the moonstone, and now they have either the shortest journey or one of the shortest, so there's really no excuse, but like. that's diaspora, you lose things, i'm okay with that.

what i'm not okay with is the sudden transformation of the moonpool to a Holy Place only Medicine Cats can touch. like, mothwing has been to the moonstone: she knows this isn't how it was. the others are young enough to not know, but then, when did this idea get started? who put it in their heads? why?

jayfeather has had so much pov, it wouldn't be hard to explain. he could've even taught alderpaw about it. or something could've been slipped into an early shadowpaw chapter. it really would not have taken much: a single line in outcast or something was all i needed to accept the moonstone/pool visitation tradition was dead (even if i think it should've continued), but unless i've forgotten, this is just. never explained.

this is how it Always Was (even though it wasn't, and there are cats who should Know it wasn't).

heck! heck! mistystar shared tongues with starclan in her novella. i don't remember where riverclan was during this scene in tbc, but my point is more. someone should've been able to say something. anything.

probably before the actual scene, given how few cats would know about this: bramblestar should since he was made a warrior in the forest territory, but i'll give the other leaders a pass. all i need is like. one line. from one cat. that's it. that's all i need.

finally, starclan obviously is uhhh. evil? it's evil, right, we can all agree? there is no evil starclan au we're In the evil starclan au, i should write a good starclan au.

the thing about this one is like. it's a product of the others. if starclan wasn't Real and Tangible, then like. then like. it wouldn't matter that they gave shitty advice and did terrible things, because now you just have cats dreaming of others, searching for answers in the Strict Code, and that would all make sense.

(did that paragraph like. read? i can't tell. basically, if starclan wasn't confirmed as a real thing with real dead cats, i would be fine with starclan cats being shitty and ooc, because now it's not actual cats we know and love, it's other cats' perceptions, memories, and inferences of them as they search their ancestors for guidance from the warrior code.

so of course their advice is going to be terrible and inconsistent and leafpool is going to decide spottedleaf said she should have kits and then starclan is going to backflip when the kits are born: all of that makes complete sense as long as starclan isn't an actual place. as long as it's just religion, just dreams and omens, there is no problem with that.)

and then if starclan like. if their role in the clans had been covered more thoroughly by the narrative. if how they gave shitty advice a lot was covered. i would also be okay with it.

but the best we get is mothwing's whole "yo uh. starclan doesn't save cats. i save fucking cats. give me my god damn credit for saving your fucking life." like that's a bad thing no. mothwing. queen. please continue ur so right.

and just as a cherry on top, the ableism in starclan is exhausting. it's its own thing, really, but like. i was talking with @foxstride about this. and like. how disabled cats will just have their disabilities erased.

personally, i'm okay with briarlight not being disabled in starclan. i think that makes sense for her character. i think it is Bad that the narrative's response to that was "now that she's dead she's finally happy again!", it should have been "thunderclan failed to give briarlight the actual support she needed to be happy", but the fact that she's not disabled in starclan doesn't actually bother me.

she was sick basically 100% of the time after her accident, and thunderclan was really shitty to her. do you remember how happy she was to "get" to sleep in the warriors' den? she was a fucking warrior that was her right.

thunderclan failed her, but the takeaway is "she couldn't be happy until she was dead and her disability was magicked away." that's bad. that's. i'm not okay with that part of it.

(briarlight deserves so much better than thunderclan.)

but for pretty much every other instance of it, there's none of that. maybe, maybe, you could make a similar argument for cinderpelt, but i would disagree with it.

my cinderpelt opinion is and always has been: she would never have chosen the path of being a medicine cat for herself, but she ultimately finds happiness and fulfillment with it. like, it wasn't right that she was forced to become a medicine cat because of her accident, but it was something she did ultimately enjoy and was happy to dedicate her life to. if she was given the chance to become a warrior after she had been a medicine cat for a while, she wouldn't have taken it.

it's part of why when i'm doing like. big time aus for warriors i still make her a medicine cat. because i like her growing to love it. i like that it's not right, how it happens, but she still loves it eventually. it's a very interesting idea to me that there aren't many characters to explore it through. jayfeather and alderheart are similar, but not in the same way. anyway i'm rambling because these are all the things i thought about when writing stolag, back on topic.

so i don't think cinderpelt should have her disability poofed by starclan, i think she should keep it. i also think that cats who are injured and then aren't disabiled in starclan should be representitve of that. they should be the age before they got injured.

briarlight should be apprentice aged, a hypo-cinderpelt should also be apprentice aged. this is something i'm fine with. i make hollyleaf apprentice aged in starclan because i think she was happiest before the ending of po3.

moving on: snowkit? can apparently hear? wtf?

and y'all already know how much i hate that jayfeather can see in his dreams. i said No that's Not Canon anymore and no one (no one) can stop me.

in conclusion: starclan is bad in a lot of ways, and if it weren't so damn inconsistently bad, i think i wouldn't hate it half as much.

<3

[daisies-write]

Unscheduled

Doppo Kunikida x reader

Kunikida would have my head for not following a precise schedule while writing this X) This was very fun to write though :D

Requested by: No one, but I wouldn’t mind any requests *wink wink nudge nudge* 

TW: none

Writer: Ari

Word count: 930

"So you’re telling me that you stayed up all night filing these reports because you thought the deadline was today instead of next week.”

“Yep.”

“And now you have no work to do?”

“Yep.”

“Not only is it irresponsible of you to not know the proper deadlines, it is also very bad from a health perspective. Sleeping is essential for your bodily functions and not getting enough of it greatly hinders your work performance and-”

“Okay, okay, jeez, it’s just this one time,” you reply, and seeing the glare he sent your way, you add, "but I’ll make sure to manage my time better from now on.”

Kunikida stares at you for a couple more seconds, as if wondering whether to drop the subject or not. Finally, deciding you learnt your lesson, he goes back to his work, while you continue to stir your now-lukewarm coffee, incredibly bored. You gaze up at him, and smile when you saw how engrossed he was in his work. If you attempt to talk to him now, you’d get an earful about how much you’re bothering him.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you take a sip, making sure it was as loud as possible. When he gave no reaction, you did it again, but louder.

“Can you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?” You ask, continuing your noisy sipping.

“That. I’m trying to focus. You’re going to make me be off-schedule.”

“But I’m soo bored Kunikida~,” you whine, “can’t you leave your work for later?”

“No. I can’t and I won’t. Besides, what are you? Dazai 2.0?”

“Hmm, something like that. But I mean, it is to be expected, he is my older brother after all.”

Shocked, Kunikida questions you on the matter. Luckily, Dazai notices what you were doing and quickly joined in with you, making fibs on why you have different family names (”Well, we mainly decided to do this for safety reasons! I can’t have our enemies use my wittle Y/n against me~”) and making sure you both use your first names instead of your surnames. 

“I guess I can see the resemblance …”

You soon manage to convince Kunikida, and he pulls out his ideals, writing the information down, at which point you simultaneously say: “We’re messing with you.”

The pen cracks.

Quickly ducking under your desk, you watch as the projectile smacks Dazai right in the forehead with such force that he ends up he falling over.

“That has gotta hurt-” You think to yourself, wincing.

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

It was getting quite late. Everyone else has already left and it was just Kunikida and you in the office now. Even if you had no work, you wanted to stay with him and keep him company. And though you kept bothering him while he was working, Kunikida was secretly glad you stayed with him. It was true that you only had twenty seven out of his fifty eight requirements for his ideal partner, but he couldn’t help being interested in you. 

And it frustrated him to no end, he was a man that went with his plans and ideals, he wasn’t one to spontaneously do something. He looked at you, slumped on your desk. He thought you looked lovely. He always did, actually, but now that he’s gotten to know you, he felt that your beauty became more pronounced by your smiles and laughs and words. Had anyone else slacked off at work and caused him to be off-schedule, he would be incredibly angry at them, but he could never find it in his heart to stay mad at you.

He hated the fact that he could never predict what was going to happen with you. You made him feel emotions he didn’t plan on feeling. Feeling flustered, happy, embarrassed, jealous. That wasn’t on the schedule. It never was on the schedule. Except now it was, whether he liked it or not.

And though you oftentimes mess with him, you ultimately cared about him. Whenever he felt down about not being able to complete his mission properly, whenever he felt his guilt eat him up, you were there and you seemed to understand exactly what he was going through. It really helped him, him who couldn’t explain his feelings all that well.

Besides, a part of him kind of liked this. It was something to look forward to everyday. Something new and exciting. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this.

It has been oddly quiet for a few minutes now. No typing, no finger tapping against the wood, just nothing. You shift your gaze from your desk and meet his. You felt your cheeks heat up and saw that his were as well. You send him a soft smile, and chuckle when you see his blush deepen. How cute.

Suddenly, he startles you by standing up. He then quickly writes something on his ideals, and starts packing his things, as if preparing to leave. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, confused. “I thought you said you had work?”

“I finished early. And I’m getting late on something else on my schedule.”

As he said that, he extends his ideals towards you, letting you see what was written. Ask Y/n out on a date.

You break into a lopsided grin, insanely happy. He was averting his eyes, looking so very flustered. You were about to get up and ask him to take you on this date immediately, but you get a better idea instead. Smirking, you lean on your hand and say:

“What I’m getting is that you’d want to date Dazai.” 

[tangledinmdzs]

The Juniors actors (if you’re okay with this, of course) reaction to a kiss scene with him and the reader? Thank you!

ooh, i like this idea! i’ve kind of played around with the different kinds of reactions to a kiss scene. 

here’s my attempt.

presenting: your request~

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Lan Sizhui

you’re sat together at the premiere and the small rented out movie theater is filled with people

this would be your first debut

and to have been paired with seasoned actor Lan Sizhui, was more than the honor

you know that there is a lot of anticipation for your performance

you have a lot of hope for yourself 

but you’re still nervous

in the months that you’ve spent working with Sizhui, you’ve grown to be his friend easily so he feels your nerves without having to even look at you

maybe it was because you guys were a couple on screen, why he understood you so well

but in the dim lights of the cinema, he finds your hand on the arm rest beside his, gives a quick squeeze

nothing too long, otherwise the paparazzi might get a pic

your anticipated kiss scene comes up,

shot with water effects for the pouring rain with a sprinkle of emotional dialogue

you remember the kiss being rough and mildly uncomfortable (not because anyone was a bad kisser, but it was just a lot of water)

but the finished product on screen completely changed that idea

you try a glance at Sizhui and are surprised to find him looking at you

you both stare at each other, missing the kiss on screen

but feeling everything for one another sat in the seats

Lan Jingyi

you’re both sitting on the couch, the TV up and ready as the rest of your friends gather

“alright, i’m anticipating this, you said that Jingyi’s character is finally gonna unleash his ‘secret’” Jin Ling hypes, sat on the floor

you laugh at your friends, leaning a bit into the couch as the rest of your actor friends get comfortable

“i’ve been doing my duty as a great friend and supporting you guys. i’ve watched every episode that’s been released everyday! i’m all caught up!” Zizhen says, way more invested than anyone

you hear Jingyi laugh beside you as Sizhui quietly cues up the latest episode

all of your friends ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the right moments, reacting as exaggeratedly as possible (because you all are actors)

until the moment that Jingyi’s character comes on screen and runs after your character, 

“you think that you can take advantage of people, and get away with it!” Jingyi’s character yells at you, stopping you on the grassy dirt road

“you can’t cry now, not when you’ve been helping me all along” your (antagonist) character replies, eyes lighting up with your powers

but you’re stopped by the deadliest weapon yet

a kiss!

Jin Ling, Sizhui & Zizhen simultaneously scream and laugh when Jingyi tugs you in roughly by the collar and kisses you 

your three actor friends turn to the two of you for an explanation, only for Jingyi to put his arm around you and say,

“surprise! we’re dating now”

while the rest of your friends scream again

you don’t clarify if that applies to just the show or real life too

Jin Ling

“an-and this all meant nothing to you?” you emphasize your anger with the shakiness of your tone, 

Jin Ling’s character is an aloof business tycoon, and he’d just broken your heart

“h-how could you be so cruel to me... no... to all those people that were depending on you!” 

your character was the sweet self made radio show host, waiting to make a difference in her community and family

but she’d just been tricked

you used all of your emotions, remembering the tips that both Jin Ling and the director had given you 

the tears flow from your eyes naturally, as you embody the very deep hurt caused to your character

method acting at its finest

at your hiccups, Jin Ling turns, his face having sympathy that his character has never expressed well before

“you...”

you turn away, ready to run from Jin Ling, from everything that’s led up to your betrayal

when a hand grabs your wrist, you’re spun around and kissed

tears come as your lips land on one another

and the kiss is simultaneously fast and slow 

you only know that you need to stop when the director yells cut and the crew starts bustling again

when you both break apart, you try to regain yourself 

“sorry, i cried a bit too much” you say, half laughing half hiccuping as you try to break out of character

Jin Ling simply shakes his head,

tenderly wipes your tears with his thumb when he doesn’t have to

“i’m sorry i had to make you cry,”

“it wasn’t you, it was Jianyu” you say his character’s name

Jin Ling still wipes your tears as best as he can anyways

Ouyang Zizhen

after working with him for a few months for a shared drama, you learn that Zizhen has a meticulous habit of monitoring himself

almost after every single scene, Zizhen tries to get himself at the monitors to watch the angles, the panning, every single thing

and at first you’d thought that it was annoying

a little nitpicking (if we’re being honest)

but then you realize later on that the more set of eyes on a particular scene the better

even though it wasn’t like that scene wasn’t going to go through 20 thousand more eyes for editing

but still, an actor’s perspective always gave additional useful input

and Zizhen was very concise and focused 

hardly ever please with most of his performances

which was why you were a little intimidated right now

stood beside him as the both of you monitored your just shot kiss scene

you ignore the fact that your lips are still tingling for the anticipation of Zizhen’s commentary

you both watch the side camera of your kiss, him leaning into your space at the lockers in the high school set

it’s a short kiss, barely a few minutes

which is why you’re turning to Zizhen right away the moment the director points at the screen and shouts to one of the editors to see if the panning from the other camera matches up

you’re biting your lip slightly as Zizhen crosses his arms, tilts his head still staring at the picture on the screen

“looks good,”

you widen your eyes, 

“really?” 

“yea, that might be a one shot” Zizhen says and turns to look at you

you smile at each other

[scalpel-mom-mori]

Masochism

Chibikko didn’t get his clothes.

Tw: Dazai-typical suicide references, Oda angst, Manga spoilers from chapter 57 on

“This is nostalgic,” Dazai sighed. He looked off without his coat, too tall, too skinny. A little awkward.

Fyodor noted this with a tilt of his head over a steaming cup of tea.

“Chibikko didn’t get my clothes,” Dazai replied, more out of formality than anything else.

“He’s so dear to you,” Fyodor observed with a malicious sparkle in his eyes.

Dazai frowned, but there wasn’t anything to argue. “We’re permanent fixations on each other’s lives,” he allowed.

Fyodor’s lips curved with the faintest suggestion of a smile. “Of course,” he amended. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Not to worry,” Dazai assured him. “You never do.”

“Tell me about the coat, then,” Fyodor said, setting the delicate teacup back in its saucer.

“What is there to tell?” Dazai asked. Only his flashing eyes betrayed his defensiveness.

“You’re more at ease with it,” Fyodor replied, tranquilly pouring tea. “It’s not yours, obviously. Did it belong to that friend you speak so highly of?”

Dazai’s eyes cut to Fyodor and then away so quickly that Fyodor would’ve missed the reaction had he not been looking for one.

“Intriguing. Tell me about this friend of yours?”

Dazai leaned back in his seat, eyes still a little wild. “Why do you ask? He’s not a man you’d find much interest in.”

Fyodor tilted his head a little. “You did.”

Sensing no easy way out, Dazai relented. “You wouldn’t have gotten along with him very well. He believed in innocence.”

“He must’ve seen it in you,” Fyodor said, smiling with his eyes through the steam.

Dazai startled, nearly jerking upright. He inspected Fyodor. “Do you really think?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

“He must have,” Fyodor replied sympathetically. “If there’s one thing you ought to know it’s that the most difficult person to understand is always the self.”

Dazai looked lost. “Perhaps,” he allowed hesitantly.

“What happened to him?”

“Why the sudden interest?” Dazai asked.

“We didn’t have time to talk it over during the Shibusawa incident.”

Dazai’s mouth made an ‘O,’ but no sound came out.

“What else?” Fyodor asked. “There’s more.”

Dazai hesitated, though not as long as Fyodor had expected. “We met in what was essentially a sewer.”

Fyodor stifled a snort.

“We drank a lot. Probably more than we should have. He was willing to look past my… eccentricities.”

“He was willing to see you,” Fyodor corrected. “Half of those eccentricities are you hiding anyway.”

Dazai looked surprised for a long moment, then defeated. “How do you know?”

“It’s what I would do,” Fyodor replied.

“Really,” Dazai sighed, seeming to relax. “You’re not very nice.”

Fyodor only smiled, silently telling him to continue.

“You know everything that happened that week. I told you.”

“Not what you thought of it,” Fyodor replied.

“You didn’t need me to tell you.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Dazai looked down at the cold tea in front of him. “You didn’t care last we talked.”

Fyodor only smiled. “Who’s to say I do now?”

Dazai gave a halfhearted shrug. “I suppose you don’t.” He took a deep breath. “Odasaku I didn’t understand. You know?”

“Of course,” Fyodor replied. “You could teach it, but you’d never really know it.”

“I wouldn’t though.”

“Of course not,” Fyodor agreed, a crueler smile threatening to form. “You’re too jealous for that.”

“I didn’t deserve him,” Dazai muttered, almost too quietly.

Fyodor refilled his tea, still wearing his pleasant smile. “You don’t think anyone does,” he said. “You saw him as an equal, yes?”

Dazai’s eyes flicked to Fyodor and then away again, as if he no longer found Fyodor interesting. “Perhaps,” he allowed.

“I know what he had that you don’t,” Fyodor said, trying a different angle. “I know what you’ve been missing. Truly, you have my sympathy.”

Dazai looked like Fyodor had cut the last string holding him upright. His head rolled listlessly as Dazai looked at Fyodor, lacking the strength to even raise his head. “What?”

“Purpose.”

Even this failed to relight that spark in Dazai’s eyes. “I know that,” he said, brown hair flopping in his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“That isn’t something I can give you. It’s not something the Detective Agency can give you. Your friend might be able to, but in the end, it has to be yours.”

“It’s hard,” Dazai complained, like some demented child.

Fyodor didn’t regret not knowing him in his youth. “It is,” Fyodor agreed. “But that’s what makes it worth it, no? If it were easy, even your laziness wouldn’t impede you.”

“I hate pain” Dazai replied drily.

“Physical pain, perhaps,” Fyodor said. “You’re still hurting yourself though, what with all those suicide attempts. Try, won’t you? It’d be a shame to lose my only conversational partner.”

Dazai didn’t reply, even as Fyodor left.

~

Ango folded Dazai’s clothes, despite knowing that he wouldn’t care one way or another. Gingerly, he picked up the coat at the bottom of the box. Knowing what had happened that night didn’t prepare him for that influx of information when Ango picked up the horribly familiar tan coat to fold it.

At first it was only disorienting, seeing the same moment from two different perspectives, simultaneously holding Oda and looking into Dazai’s distressed face.

Dazai, eighteen, looked so lost in that moment.

“You should know this yourself. No matter whether you’re on the side of killing people or saving people, there will never be anything that can surpass your mind. There is no place in this world that can fill your loneliness. You will linger in the darkness forever”

Ango’s breath caught, but his fingers wouldn’t come open to let go of the fabric. The blood rushing in his ears drowned out the rest of the exchange, until Oda’s voice came again. “I really want curry.”

Something inside him felt like an intruder. He didn’t really deserve to hear Oda’s last words. Least of all like this. He forced down the lump in this throat and focused on the coat in his hands, which he gingerly placed on top of the rest of Dazai’s clothes. He taped the box closed. He hesitated only a moment before writing the address on the box. He’d take it to the post office on his way home.

And maybe get a drink afterward.

[sparrowwritings]

Final Fantasy 14 Writing Challenge Day Eleven: Heart of Gold

Day Ten -- Masterpost -- Day Twelve

As devoted to her work as she was, Moenbryda was well acquainted with noticing when others were paying attention to her. Then again, she thought as she gave a sidelong glance through the curtain of her hair at the two who were trying and failing to not be seen, at least they had innocent intentions.

Roger and Lara, the two Warriors of Light, were shoving each other and bickering in whispered tones. Their “hiding place” was just behind one of the bush planters that the Rising Stones had placed around it as more natural dividers. For as young as they were, the two would have to crouch to keep their heads from being spotted. They were too focused on their heated (if quiet) conversation to notice that it wasn’t concealing them at all anymore. From the way they were pointing, clearly it had something to do with her.

She might as well have some fun with them. 

Gently easing herself out of her chair, Moenbryda padded over to the “hiding place” of the Warriors of Light. Neither of them sensed her as she got close enough to hear what they were talking about. “--don’t see what the big deal is, you should ask her!” Roger hissed.

“It’s your question, you need to ask.” Lara whispered back just as fiercely. 

“Yeah but you ask this stuff way better than I do! And! I’m the one that keeps getting scared by him anyway so I shouldn’t have to ask!”

“All the more reason for you to do it, Roger! You’ve got to show you’re braver than that! Sh-she’ll just think it’s stupid if I ask.”

He stared at her for a few seconds before he responded. “...so you’re whole reason why you won’t talk to her is because you think she’ll think you’re stupid. And that’s why you’ve been getting all blushy around--”

“I don’t! Get that blushy around her!!” Lara whisper-exclaimed, whilst her cheeks grew a darker and darker pink by the second. She seemed to be in the process of hiding her face behind her fingers while she rambled. “Moenbryda’s just! Really amazing and strong and smart and gosh all I did right was fight a few nasty things.” 

It was a choice between giving away her position by laughing or giving away her position by commenting on the not-very-secret conversation happening right in front of her. Moenbryda chose the latter, if only to spare the girl’s feelings. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” Both Warriors of Light let out a very squeaky yelp before simultaneously running their backs into the planter they had been hiding behind. This had been the right call; Lara’s face had only become pinker instead of pale with shame. Moenbryda gave the two of them a wink. “Don’t knock what you’ve done, though. Primal slaying is far more impressive than what I’ve been up to.”

“N--you, uh,” Lara mumbled, her voice getting quieter with every attempt at a word. “R-roger wants to know why…” 

Either in response to getting caught or as a reaction to save his best friend further embarrassment, Roger blurted, “Why is Urianger so weird?” Moenbryda blinked. He continued on when it was clear she had to think on an answer. “He talks in riddles and is always so serious and he always scares me cuz I forget he’s in the room half the time so like why is he like that?” His large green eyes stared up at her own silver ones. “The other Scions say you’re the closest to him, so...?”

What a question. “If I’m going to answer this, we’re going to be sitting at a table instead of crouching behind a planter. With some tea, preferably.” Moenbryda reached down and picked up both Warriors of Light by the arm until they were able to stand on their own. Roger had the more defined musculature, but otherwise the two young midlanders were pretty lightweight by her own standards. Lara was stuck in admiration again until the seawolf had sauntered past her quick enough that the girl had to scramble to catch up.

Not much longer after, the three of them sat at the round table that Moenbryda had taken over for her research. Books and papers were gathered up and set aside, far away from the cups of steaming hot tea that she’d poured. After getting settled in, she looked from boy to girl and back before raising a gray eyebrow. “So. You want to know why Urianger is as eccentric as he is.”

“W-well…” Roger couldn’t meet her gaze, instead scratching at the side of his face. “I just...don’t know much about him. All the other Scions trust him so I know he’s a good guy, but…” He trailed off.

“He’s like a really tall brown wall.” Lara finished for him. When the silver gaze came to rest on her own dark blue eyes, she fumbled for words again. “I-I mean, kind of like R-roger said he’s just...just really hard to guess at what he’s thinking. Even without the…”

“Pray tell, whatever dost thou meaneth, young Lara?” She fluttered her eyelids, putting a hand to her chest even while imitating Urianger’s usual tone. “Surely thou canst thinketh that this manner of speech be...obtuse?” That got a genuine giggle out of the girl. Nothing like making fun to offset nerves. “Surely one such as thee can fully grasp the intricacies of language far better than that of thine peers! Oh the youth of today hath fallen in scholarly pursuits! For shame!” The extra drama Moenbryda added got both of the teens to laugh. A success if she should say so herself.

“In all seriousness, though, Urianger has always been more in favor of keeping to himself than spending time with others. I’d say it was miraculous that he’s stayed this long in the company of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, except that our Master Louisoix helped bring them together. And he’s grown fond of them since.” She blew at the hair that partially covered her face. “Ever loyal to those he deems worthy of loyalty is our dear Urianger.”

Lara and Roger looked to each other. There was something of a silent conversation between them before he seemed to lose and so spoke next. “Is that also why he sneaks up on people so easy? Because he keeps to himself a lot?”

She couldn’t stop the grin from growing on her face even if she wanted to. “He’s perfectly capable of making noise while he walks. I suspect he stays quiet around you purely for the amusement that comes when you discover him, though you’ll never be able to suss out that confession from him.”

“What!” Roger stood in his seat, getting dangerously close to spilling what was left of his tea. 

“Did you not think him capable of humor?”

“Yes! I mean no! I mean--” The boy sat back down hard and dug his hands into his red hair as he stared at the table. “Oh my gods he’s been laughing at me this whole time.”

“Now now, he’d never laugh.” Moenbryda pointed out. “Smile, maybe, but definitely not when you could see him.” 

“He can smile too?!” 

“Wonder of wonders, I know.”

“Loyalty and humor…” Lara mused. “Well that’s two things we learned about him that we didn’t know before.” She carefully looked at the older woman out of the corner of her eye. “...Is there anything else you want to add?”

The possibilities of further embarrassing her childhood friend were laid out in front of her like a feast. Anecdotes from their shared past. Hilarious mistakes on his part while they were both under the tutelage of Louisoix. Odd quirks from childhood that he most certainly kept even after having not seen her in so long. Any of that could become ammo for the Warriors of Light to use in order to fluster and annoy him like he deserved after being particularly difficult to understand. 

With a monumental amount of restraint, Moenbryda settled on a far more mature tact. Even Urianger would be proud, were he privy to her current thoughts.

“Loyalty and humor is fine and all, but one must take care if that’s all one knows about a person.” She took a sip of her still-warm tea. “A person of ill intent can still be loyal to their unrighteous cause. Humor can just as easily be derived from cruelty, not just harmless pranks.” Roger looked like he begged to differ, but she continued onward. “It’s the core of a person that one should look out for most of all. What they choose to do, again and again, when there is no reward to speak of or even if they are aware that the result will lead to negative consequences for themself.” 

Looking between the two teens again, she smiled gently. “A concept you two are already familiar with, I’m sure.” 

This time, the quiet was contemplative. 

Lara spoke first. “But...we haven’t seen him doing a lot that involves his core. He’s always so...closed off. Or like he’s hiding, I guess.”

“Well then it’s good you came to speak to me about that.” Moenbryda winked. This time, the girl merely jumped instead of froze. “If I had to say any one phrase fit Urianger well, it would be that he ‘has a heart of gold.’”

“Really?” Roger piped up. 

“Absolutely.” She nodded. “He will always put the wellbeing of others long before he thinks of himself. To his detriment in some cases, but admirable nonetheless.” Pointing a thick finger at the boy, she added, “Even his scare tactics, such as they are, are minor in nature. Enough to make you jump, but not enough for you to go for your weapon, right?”

It took him a moment to think back that far. When he finished, he sounded awestruck. “...yeah. That’s right.” 

“See? You already had some of the evidence in front of you. All you both needed was a fresh perspective.”

Roger stared openly at Moenbryda before turning his gaze back to Lara. “No wonder you like her so much.”

The brief moment of respite for the girl’s poor face died as the pink came back in full force, even darkening into red in places. “Roger!” She shouted at him. 

Moenbryda gave a happy sigh to herself and leaned back a little to drink her tea while the teens argued again. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the far more stealth experienced members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn snickering at the scene. 

She might not have known the Warriors of Light for long, but it was good to see that such responsibilities hadn’t weighed them down enough that they forgot how to be their own age. Now if only someone would stop pretending that he was twenty years older than he actually was around her every so often.

[thorne93]

The Softest Fire (Part 16)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 3305

Warnings: aaaannngst, heartbreak

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​

Newt, Theseus, Nora, and Dumbledore entered the room. Newt stood beside Nora as she sat across from me, and Theseus stood beside Dumbledore when he sat. 

I peered up at them, my usual bite giving way to general curiosity. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, no threat or malice in my voice. 

“We… We have something we need to tell you,” Nora started, gesturing slightly to Dumbledore. 

“What could it possibly be?” I questioned, wondering why it took four of the best wizards I knew to address it. 

“Rosaline,” Dumbledore began, huffing out a breath, “you’ve been cursed.” 

My eyebrow twitched up. “Cursed?” 

Everyone nodded. 

“It appears Grindelwald put you under a series of complex curses. He toyed with memories, he put you under the Imperius curse, along with other loyalty spells and charms. The love you feel for him, the loyalty, it’s all a farce.” 

I peered at them, my gaze saying nothing. 

“I…” Was all I could get out. I wanted to argue, to say he was my true love, but something in me felt they weren’t lying. My memories felt far too fuzzy for me to confirm nor deny their claim. With sorrow in my tone, I asked, “So what now? I’m imprisoned?” 

“Absolutely not. We’re going to work to get the curses out of you. So long as you don’t fight us, it should be relatively easy and painless. We have to be careful not to destroy your mind in the process. I’d like to give you your memories back.” 

I nodded gently. “Whatever you think is best,” I stated, feeling violated and exposed. “Let’s just get this over.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t fighting us more,” Theseus coolly remarked. 

“Either you’re wrong and this is a waste of our time, or you’re right and I won’t want to be cursed any more. It’s all the same to me.” 

Everyone nodded, leaving the room, except Newt. He held onto the door and turned back to me and said, “We’ll fix this, Rosaline. Everything will be okay.” 

All I could do was nod and smile faintly at him. I truly hoped he was right. 

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

For the next few weeks, I felt like a lab rat. Sometimes Dumbledore visited me, sometimes Nora did, sometimes it was an auror I’d never met before. Other times, it was two or more. They stuck their wands against my temple and they worked on me for hours at a time. 

As the first spells fell away, my hatred and anger melted away. I no longer said hateful things to anyone who came in. I didn’t give anyone extra grief. I didn’t demand my wand. My memories were still fuzzy and I still missed Gellert though, but the desire to be right next to him had fizzled.

At first it was rather easy, not uncomfortable, but I suppose it was the easy spells out first, because everything that followed was hell. After the first six or so spells, they got worse. 

A blood curdling scream erupted in my holding cell. Nora shut her eyes, trying to ignore how it pierced her ears.

“Fucking hell, Rosaline!” she admonished, pulling her wand away, breathing heavily. 

I glared at her. “It hurts,” I informed with malice. “Sorry, I’ll  try to keep my screams of agony down for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, a small smile playing at her lips, and despite myself, one came to mine too before we were laughing together. A fit of giggles completely took us over as I laid on my cot and she leaned on the edge. Finally, we gathered our wits and wiped our eyes of happy tears. 

“Are you done for the day?”

“Not nearly, but I’m exhausted trying to pull this spell from you. I need to get back to the bookstore and you need rest. Someone will be back tomorrow to try again.” 

I nodded while she stood and started to leave. She spun to face me. 

“Thank you, for being so cooperative,” she said with a solemn smile. 

“My pleasure, Nora.” 

And so, the spells continued to get ripped from my mind. Feeling as if my brain was on fire and being axed simultaneously. The team worked and worked until suddenly, the ties to Grindelwald fell away nearly entirely. I no longer wanted to be his wife, be near him, or help him. 

I pulled off my engagement ring and sat it on the table one day. Nora was pleasantly surprised to see that, I believe. 

“What’s that?” she asked as she walked in, sitting across from me, curious. She picked it up. “Ah, your engagement ring. Wait, does this mean...?” 

I peered at her, my thoughts unsure. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it means. I just... I feel like if Grindelwald was in this room, I would obey him, but I have no desire to be near him. How is that possible? I still remember being in love with him? I still…” I trailed off. “My mind is so muddled.” 

Nora gazed at me sympathetically, reaching across and squeezing my hand. “We’ll get there. All that’s left is the Imperius curse. Then you’re free.”

“One curse? The imperius?” I frowned, thinking. “That’s what’s holding me?” 

She nodded. “Yes. I think that’s why you still feel obedient to him.” 

“I wish I could just… shake this last spell lose. This is ridiculous,” I remarked, crossing my arms. “I should be a match for Grindelwald.” 

Nora smirked. “You are, but the Imperius curse is powerful, so is he. You’ve also been under its influence for months. It’ll take a lot to bring you out of this, Little Rose.”

Her words made me frown for half a second. I was about to ask her what she called me, but somewhere in the recess of my mind, I could hear Aunt Cecelia saying that to me when I was five. They were chasing me in the backyard, I had a hold of Nora’s wand, and I was running with it. Nora was laughing hysterically from the patio while Uncle Joshua smiled at me. 

That was all it took for the floodgates to open. Every memory Grindelwald had blurred and distorted restored to their previous clarity. Nora was never unkind to me. Sometimes we didn’t see eye to eye, and our idea of fashion differed wildly, but she was an amazing cousin. She had my back and I had hers. 

Uncle Joshua and Aunt Cecelia were nothing but loving to me, raising me as their own, buying me the finest goods for Hogwarts. They checked in on me regularly and we always spent Christmas together, happily. 

And Newt… Oh god… All the love hit me like a wrecking ball. The patience, the compassion, the care, the kindness, the courage. I fell in love with Newt for everything Grindelwald wasn’t. 

“Oh god,” I suddenly gasped, and Nora peered at me. 

“What is it?” 

“I… loved Newt.” 

The more the memories came in, the harder it was for me to breathe. 

Her eyes assessed me, she wasn’t sure what was happening. 

“You were always kind to me. You-- Oh my god, oh my god,” I gasped, my hands flying to my face. Horror painted my expression. “Oh god, Nora, what have I done?” Sobs came before I even realized it. I didn’t even know why I was crying, to be honest. 

Within a second she was out of her seat, wrapping her arms around me in a comforting hug.

“Shh, it’s alright. You remember, don’t you?”

I nodded, still sobbing violently. My breathing was rough, I couldn’t catch my breath. “I remember it all. I didn’t join Grindelwald. I went in there to end him. He--He cursed me!” I cried out. “I lived with him! I was going to marry him and be happy about it! Nora… I gave him everything! He stole my mind, my memories, my…” I stopped, saying the words was too much. “How could he do that to me? How could I let him do that to me? The things I did for him. I--”

She continued to stroke my hair, shushing me, trying to comfort me but I just kept babbling. 

“I told you awful things. I told Newt awful things.” 

“You weren’t yourself, we know that,” she assured.

“I did everything he said, without question, without fail….”

“You had no choice.”

“He exploited me. Newt broke my heart and that son of a bitch turned that against me.” My hands clenched into fists. Sorrow gave way to raging fire. 

The door opened, revealing Newt, and the sight of him made my chest nearly implode and a harder sob rocked my body again. Once he saw my reaction, he simply said, “My apologies,” and left. 

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

Nora had told everyone to give me space. She informed them that I was curse free and had no desire to see Grindelwald. She was reluctant to give me my wand back and I didn’t blame her. She said that Theseus and his team would probably be in the next day to question me on what I could give them about Grindelwald. I told her I would be ready for it. 

Night had fallen, but the room was brightly lit from a full moon. 

Thoughts had consumed my mind ever since the last spell broke. I relived old memories, happy to remember the good times, but more than anything, I wept. Tears flowed down my face as I lied, staring, thinking about how badly it must’ve hurt Nora while I was gone. No doubt she searched for me day and night. And Newt, left to take care of all of his animals, and his heart undoubtedly hurting from losing Leta. Theseus’s pain I couldn’t even begin to imagine. He and I were never close, nor did I suspect we ever would be, but he didn’t deserve to have his fiance killed in front of his very eyes. And what I said to him… I was cruel. 

To top it all off, I joined the man who caused pain to those I love. I joined the man who tormented Dumbledore, a man who I held dear to my heart as friend and mentor. I let him twist my mind. For Merlin’s sake, he ordered me to kill my cousin and the love of my life and I complied without hesitation. He inflicted unspeakable pain to Newt and I stood by and watched. 

What kind of a monster lived inside me?

The door to my holding room creaked open. My gaze shifted from the window to the door, breaking my thoughts from hating myself. When I saw who my visitor was, my chest constricted all over again and tears threatened to flow.

“Rosaline?” Newt said quietly into the dark, his silhouette lit by the light in the hall. 

“Yes?” I croaked out.

“I wanted to check on you. Nora said you broke to the last curse.” 

“Mhm,” was all I could say. 

He came in, shutting the door behind him. “May I sit?”

“Sure,” I said, failing to keep the tears at bay. 

He grabbed a chair and pulled it close to my cot. 

“How are you doing?” he asked softly once he got settled. 

“I--Not well,” I admitted. 

“I guess that’s to be expected. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” 

Silence fell between us, I wasn’t sure what to say to him, or what he wanted me to say. 

“So what do you remember?”

“Everything,” I whispered before the first sob broke from me and Newt immediately left his chair to sit on my cot, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I remember falling in love with you. I remember working alongside you. I remember being best friends with Nora. I remember walking into those blue flames to kill that son of a bitch and now…. He took me because I’m powerful. He wanted me for my magic, nothing else. He took how I always felt like second best and twisted that. Do you know how demented that feels? To have the memories in my head. Happy memories of Grindelwald?” 

“I’m sure it’s very hard.”

“The worst part is he said everything right, he did everything right. All in all, he was never cruel to me, other than cursing me. All I’d wanted from you, he had done for me. He put me on a pedestal, gave me power, worshipped me. All so I would be his obedient little pet.”

I shook my head, wiping my tears as I laughed without humor. “All my life, I’ve felt like I was never good enough. Nora always had her friends, making them everywhere she went. At school, every professor seemed to admire my wit but, I think in all reality only Dumbledore liked me. Leta Lestrange, well, you always had a soft spot for her and she was nothing but a troublemaker. Not to mention Tina. At the Ministry, they liked my power, but I wasn’t anyone’s friend. Do you know what I mean?” I asked, peering at him. “People like me, people respect me, but no one notices if I don’t show up to the party.” 

“I do,” he quietly said.

Again, I laughed. “Newt… You love Tina. I did everything I could for you and you still fell for Tina. I thought I did everything right. Speaking of, how are you and Tina?” I didn’t really want to know, but I was trying to be kind. The idea of them together sent me reeling, but I didn’t have any room to request him to be mine.

Newt’s gaze dropped as his hand fell from my shoulder. 

“I… We aren’t…”

A perplexed frown found my face. “Together?” I finished.

He nodded meekly.

“What ever for?” I demanded. “You tormented me for over a year with pining for her and yet you are still not with her?” 

“She’s not the one I want to be with,” he breathed, his eyes looking at me, his gaze pointed. 

My face and heart betrayed me. The tiniest of grins tugged at the corner of my lips, while my heart fluttered at his words and his expression. A feeling of relief washed through me, finally, I knew he cared for me too, maybe even loved me. 

This is all you’ve ever wanted, this is what you wanted to hear right? So why does it hurt so bad? Maybe because you know he deserves better. He shouldn’t love you. He can’t love you. It would only end up getting him hurt. 

I peered at him with a sudden panic in my chest. I knew what I had to do, what I had to say. I had to let him go. I had to make him see that being with anyone elsas the best option for him. 

“Oh, Newt… no,” I objected softly. “You don’t want to be with someone like me. I’m not good for you. I don’t deserve you, Tina does.” 

“I don’t give a damn who deserves me,” he slightly snapped. “I know the pain of watching the person I love love someone else.”

“Welcome to the club.” I wanted to roll my eyes. Chagrin wrapped around me like a familiar cocoon. The pain he felt wasn’t news to me, he should be more sympathetic of-- And then it hit me. 

He just said he loved me, for the first time. I never knew he loved me. I suspected he might care, and I hoped for love… But to have him admit it… My heart softened more at that confession.

“Rosaline,” he said as he turned more towards me, taking my hand in his, “watching you love him, hearing about your engagement to him, that nearly killed me. It would have destroyed me to see you with anyone but me, but to know it was Grindelwald… You’re so pure and loving and he’s so vile and awful. I worried I had pushed you into his arms. I thought it was my fault for being so stupid for not telling you I loved you back at Flamel’s.” 

I pressed my lips together as I listened. “You didn’t do anything,” I assured. “I didn’t choose him. But you do deserve someone better. When I first started working with you, I told you I wanted to help the world, make a living at doing something kind and productive, not sitting on my behind  making legislative decisions.” I paused, biting my lip. “But the truth is… I think I left because deep down I knew I was capable of the things Grindelwald had me do.”

“Rosaline, no--”

I held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not being dramatic, Newt. I’m serious. I worried that if I came into power, some other part of me would take over. I worried I’d be corrupted, coerced, or even become terrible all on my own. Grindelwald didn’t make me powerful, I was already that. He didn’t do anything but make me loyal to him. The hurting, the rage, the loneliness, that was all there, he just twisted it to use it as a tool.” 

“I don’t believe that. You’re good. I’ve seen you. You care about every living thing with all your heart.”

“I do,” I agreed, my gaze falling. “But what if that changed? I like power, Newt, I’m not going to pretend I don’t. I like respect. I like knowing I’m the most powerful person in the room.”

“We all know that,” he assured with a soft smile. 

“But what scares me more, is what kind of person I became with Grindelwald is who I am deep down. What if that’s really who I am?” 

“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t have let us lift the curses. You would be running back to him right now.” 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I know I did unspeakable things, and I should’ve been strong enough and smart enough to get out of it, and I didn’t. What does that say about me? What kind of evil lives inside me?” 

He took his hand and swept my blonde locks behind my ear. “Rosaline Vaughan, if anyone in this world is deserving of love, it’s you. Damn Grindelwald. He did nothing more than manipulate your memories and emotions. You are a good person, to your core.” 

“I’m not so sure any more.” 

“Maybe you don’t see it, but I do, Nora does, Dumbledore does. I know you may think you had to fight to be appreciated, but I assure you, Nora did nothing but fret over finding you. You are her world. All the students envied you at Hogwarts, believe me, I know because I was one. And I think the professors were frustrated that they couldn’t teach you anything new,” he teased, a smile touching both of our lips. “Theseus always spoke highly of you while you worked at the Ministry. It is a workplace and favoritism would be frowned upon. As much as I hated it, and I’m sure you do too, the most powerful Dark Wizard in history wanted you to be his bride. Regardless of why, he chose you out of everyone. He thought your power, over anyone else’s, would be his best shot at ruling the wizarding world. In an odd way, it’s a big compliment.”

I smiled slightly. 

“Friends are overrated anyway, look how many I have,” he remarked.

This made me laugh, for the first time in I had no idea how long. 

“This is true, and you’re a remarkable man.” 

He gazed down at me with kind adoration. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“Thank you, Newt. I needed to hear that.” 

He nodded, patting my hand. “I’ll let you rest now.”

“Goodnight,” I said as he got up to leave.

“G’night, Rosaline.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[nerdettedreamteam]

hey guys! it’s been a while since i posted anything but i actually have something new! just a simple one shot, and it’s flopping on my ao3 so i thought why not post it here too :’) hope you enjoy!

Two Hundred Percent

Warm rays of the sun slowly crept into her room and filled it with a golden glow. The light made its way up the pink covers on her bed and soon came to a stop once it reached her face. Starfire slowly opened her eyes. Living by the ocean meant seeing the most spectacular sunsets, and sunrises. Something felt off, however, but she wasn’t sure what it could be that made her morning already feel so different unlike the times before. She turned to her other side to see Robin, who usually woke up after her, but was only greeted with cold sheets and emptiness beside her. He wasn’t there. Starfire also took note of the slight dampness on the side her head was now facing.

The events of the previous night started to come back to her.

She remembered how mad she was with him and how annoyed he was with her. She only wish she could’ve taken some of what she said back, but the damage was already done, and this was the price they had to pay. She turned back around and brought her legs to her chest, bringing the covers over her body as she tried to ignore the lump in her throat and the tears that stung in the back of her eyes. She laid in bed by herself for a few more moments until she thought it was time for her to get ready for the day. She changed into a fresh set of uniform and headed out to OPS.

As she walked down the hallway she noted how quiet it was. She figured no one else had been up yet. It was quite early after all. Starfire approached the door to OPS and it opened with a whoosh. She looked up and was surprised to see Raven, Cyborg and Beast Boy already there. “Friends…”

“Hey, Star, are you okay?” Beast Boy nearly jumped up from the couch as him and the others made his way to her. “I’d be lying if I said we didn’t hear you two…” He started.

Starfire perked up, almost embarrassed. “Oh, I apologize! It was not intended to be something all of you would end up hearing...”

“It’s okay, really,” Beast Boy continued. “we’re just worried about you.”

Cyborg nodded in agreement. “Did Robin say something that hurt you? Because if that’s the case I’ll gladly give him a piece of—“

“No, it wasn’t, it was me. And him.” Starfire interrupted. “Both of us were at fault. Things got out of hand and… well, I thought it would be best for the both of us to have some space.” “Wait, you guys are taking a break?” Beast Boy asked, sounding a little concerned.

Starfire’s eyes widened, realizing what the changeling meant. “No no. I feared things would have only gotten worse between us if we continued to argue, so I decided to give Robin the space and not bother him about it any further, for a couple hours at least. I think we both need a little time to do the cooling down.”

The others exchanged looks. “Well, I respect that. You guys just do whatever it is ya need to.” Cyborg told Starfire. “We’ll be here if ya want us to.”

Starfire gave him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

The other titans carried on with what they were doing in silence before. It had only been about ten minutes when the door to OPS had opened again, and Robin had stepped out of it. The other titans looked up simultaneously and stared for a short second before Cyborg spoke up. “Mornin’, Rob.”

“Morning, Cyborg.” Robin said with a smile before he headed over to the couch and sat next to Beast Boy, who was in the middle of another video game match.

That short moment felt much slower to Starfire. She noticed how he was in his normal, cheery morning mood, acting almost as if nothing had happened last night involving him. Was she only hurting herself more for still being hung up on the whole thing? Robin seemed perfectly fine, and she felt as if she was looking too deep into it all. Confused as she was, Starfire pushed it aside from her thoughts. She’d talk to him later, but for now she needed to be present and ready for anything. Personal life aside, her and her friends were heroes after all.

The sun had now started to set over the ocean as the day had slowly begun its end. Things hadn’t been much interesting until crimes arose in the city well into the afternoon. Going on a mission with such a fallout the previous night had worried Starfire because she wasn’t sure how much it would affect her powers, but she was able to not let it get to her and was able to use her powers to help out with the crimes the titans had successfully stopped. The titans hung out in OPS for a little while after, with Starfire wondering when the perfect moment would come so she could be with Robin and privately talk with him to clear things up.

Robin hadn’t stayed in OPS for that long before deciding to leave the room. Starfire knew that this was the perfect opportunity, so she waited a few moments before heading out of OPS as well to find Robin.

Whenever he went off by himself, there were only two places he’d be in: his study room trying to crack a case, or in his room.  She checked the study room first and was a little surprised to see that he wasn’t in there. She continued down the hall and stopped when she got to his door, which was closed. She knew he was in here.

Starfire stood outside of his room for a few seconds and hesitated on knocking. Did he even want to be bothered? Even if he didn’t or didn’t want to say anything to her, Starfire knew that she had to apologize for her part in the situation. It was now or later, and she certainly didn’t want the situation to continue longer than it needed to be. She held in a breath and knocked on the metal door. 

“Robin? It’s Starfire,” she started. “I was hoping we could discuss what happened the previous night, if that is alright with you.”

A pause. Starfire tucked strands of hair behind her ear and exhaled a shaky breath, anxiously waiting his response. Maybe he still didn’t want to talk to her. She took in another breath and was about to say something else, but was cut off by the door in front of her opening with a whoosh. Robin stood at the doorway and his masked eyes met with her emerald ones.

They locked eyes for a second before he saw the features of her face soften. He saw the hurt in her eyes and how much their argument had affected her, causing his face to soften as well. He gently took hold of her hand. “Come in…” He said before he led her inside of the dimly lit room. Starfire followed behind him, wondering what was going to come next.

Robin led Starfire to the inside of his room and stopped at the edge of his bed, where they both sat at either end. Neither of them said anything at first, which had opted Starfire to try to say something first, however when she tried, she found her thoughts all over the place and didn’t even know where to begin. She was still angry and upset with what happened, but wanted nothing more than to reconcile with him and to put this situation behind them. Unable to take the brief silence, she forced herself to say something, but only ended up choking on her words.

“Robin, I…”

“Starfire, I’m sorry.”

Starfire straightened up, oddly surprised he was the one that got around to saying those words before she did. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Robin repeated for her once again. “I’m very sorry, in fact.”

Starfire blinked away tears that quickly rolled down her cheeks. “But… I was the one who—“

“No, if anyone should apologize first it’s me.” Robin leaned forward and took her hands into his own. “Please listen to me, Star.”

Starfire inhaled a shaky breath and exhaled through her nose, awaiting on what he was going to say.

“I know I hurt you and I don’t have any excuse for the things I said.” He began. “None of it is true at all, and I really hope you know that. I feel awful because I promised you that I wouldn’t let being a hero interfere with us, but it hasn’t even been three months and I’ve already broken my promise. I feel silly that I just so easily reverted back to who I was before when we were arguing. I know I messed up, but I hope you can forgive me.”

“Robin no, i-it’s my fault as well.” Starfire responded. “I know you are the leader of the team and are in charge of all the titans everywhere, and I know that you have much more work to do than the rest of us, and I should have been more understanding. I know you also have other responsibilities to tend to and I should not have been so quick to judge you. I apologize as well, and I too hope you are able to forgive me for my mistakes.”

“Of course I do, Star,” Robin said as he pushed some of her hair to the side of her face so he could get a better view. “you know I could never stay mad at you.”

As he did this, Starfire looked back into his masked eyes and felt a small smile cross her face. To Robin’s surprise, she brought him in for a hug, in which he gladly returned. They stayed silent for a few moments. “I think we both did the messing up.”

Robin chuckled. “Yeah, we really did.”

Starfire broke the hug for a moment. “I do have one question, however.”

“Which is?”

“Well… in the morning when you first came out for the day, you were acting as if nothing had happened between us the previous night. From my perspective, it seemed as if you were just ignoring what had happened.”

“No, no, not at all. How could I?” Robin had pulled her closer to him. “I was so upset after the conversation ended. I hated how things were between us and how our night had to end like that. I guess I thought that choosing to not let it bother me was a good idea, but I really couldn’t stop thinking about it today.”

“I understand,” Starfire nodded. “and, truthfully I felt the same way as well.”

“Really?” Robin was a little surprised. “But, you didn’t seem upset, I mean, you looked pretty fine when we were on missions today, and your powers seemed to work just fine.”

“I merely just did what you did and chose to not let it affect me. I knew I would not be much help during battle if I let my emotions take over.”

Robin felt terrible. “Aw, Star…” This time, he was the one that initiated a hug, and tightly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m really sorry I upset you.”

“And I am sorry I upset you too.”

Robin rested his head on her shoulder. “I hate it when we fight. As silly as this might sound, I kind of wish we never had to fight again.”

“As do I, but unfortunately with relationships, especially with romantic ones, fights will occur. It is nearly impossible to prevent them from happening. However, if we were able to talk about it with each other instead of keeping our thoughts to ourselves, I believe that each fight that were to occur in the future will end up making what we have even stronger.”

Robin smiled. “I wouldn’t mind doing that at all. I know I’m not exactly a person who opens up about my feelings easily, but I’m definitely willing to try that for you.”

Starfire cupped his cheek and smiled. “And I am happy that you want to.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead, causing him to smile as well.

“Y’know, I was also thinking about something else.” Robin began.

“And what might that be?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “This might sound weird, but I thought that when it came to balancing hero life and personal life, it always seemed like it had to be fifty fifty... like I had to equally divide fifty percent into both of these big parts of my life.” Robin paused and looked back up at her with a sheepish grin. “I’m starting to think I was wrong.”

Starfire couldn’t help but giggle a little. She pondered on his words for a moment before speaking. “I understand how you came to that conclusion, Robin. However, you are not the only one who has the hero life to think about. I know how difficult it can be at times, having to put the effort needed into being a hero when the time comes while also maintaining relationships with those closest to you. It is not easy, but I think if we were able to put our full effort into us when the time calls for it, we will be able to overcome this challenge.”

Robin thought about what she said and nodded. “You’re right. I guess... we just need to put our full effort into us just like we do with being heroes, right?”

Starfire nodded in agreement as well. “Indeed. The goal is not trying to make our combined efforts one hundred percent, even if that is what it seems like. I can assure you I thought the same at some point. But if we both put our full one hundred percent into us, then we will be able make something even greater than that.”

Robin tilted his head slightly. “What will that be?”

Starfire thought for a moment, bringing the palm of her hand to her cheek as she pondered on his question. “Two hundred percent.”

Robin took this in then smiled contently at her. “That has to be one of the smartest things I’ve ever heard.”

Starfire hummed and couldn’t help but beam from the compliment. “Well, I hope I was able to at least make things clearer. For the both of us.”

“Of course you did,” Robin started. “I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And I would not know what I would do without you either.” Starfire replied as the smile on her face hadn’t ceased. “I suppose we both learned from this experience? I certainly have.”

Robin pulled her in close for another embrace. “I definitely have too.”

They stayed silent for a few moments enjoying the hug. After a couple more short seconds, Robin leaned in further and rested his head on her shoulder, humming.

“What?” Starfire smiled as she watched him, raising her hand to his head and stroked it.

“Can’t we just… stay here like this forever?” Robin spoke in a soft voice as he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

Starfire was now running her fingers through his dark hair. She giggled before responding. “As nice as that would be, you know that isn’t possible.”

“I know I know… it’s just nice like you said.” Robin paused for a second. “It’s just… really nice to be with you like this. In a way, I guess I always kind of hoped for this… y’know, before we were together.”

Starfire felt her heart beat faster at that sentence. “Truthfully I always hoped for it as well, but you know this definitely isn’t the first time we have been close like this.”

“I know, I’m just happy I’m finally able to. It feels… like it was worth the wait. I don’t think I ever told you that yet.”

“I understand, and after all this time I am happy to be with you like this as well.” Starfire told him as she continued with running her fingers through his hair.

Robin embraced the moment for as long as he could before he finally took note of his girlfriend’s racing heart. He couldn’t help but grin knowing he was the sole cause of that. He looked up at her with that boyish grin of his and stared into those gorgeous eyes of hers. “Heartbeat.”

A blush rose to her cheeks and Starfire finally realized how much her heart was beating. She looked back down at Robin as well and couldn’t help but grin at that point. “I blame you for it.”

Robin couldn’t help but let out a good hard laugh. “That sounds fair to me.” He said as he caught his breath.

The two of them laughed once more and further embraced the moment. The laughter faded and a peaceful silence between the two grew once more. They were happy to be together like this, and despite there being bumps along the way and potentially more to come in the future, they’d be ready to face it, and in the end, it’ll be worth being together, especially if after everything, they’d still able to share moments like this.

Robin’s head lay on her thighs as the two of them quietly shared the pleasant silence. “Hey, Star?” Robin tilted his head further back.

“Yes, Robin?” She replied as she looked down at him once more.

“I love you.”

Starfire felt her face grow warm and smiled. “I love you too.”

[xroxasx]

Top 10 Songs of 2019

1) medicine-BMTH

“So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames I will follow you, I will follow you

Because I cut my teeth and bit my tongue 'Till my mouth was dripping blood But I never dished the dirt, just held my breath While you dragged me through the mud I don't know why I tried to save you 'cause I can't save you from yourself When all you give a shit about is everybody elseAnd you just can't quit, why don't you deal with it? I think it's time to stopYou need a taste of your own medicine 'Cause I'm sick to death of swallowing Watch me take the wheel like you, not feel like you Act like nothing's real like you” 

In a shocking turn of events, my number one song was actually my fuck you song. Is this #character growth??? My favorite one was when he was talking about taking the wheel like you and not feeling like you and acting like nothing’s real because that’s what I’ve always wanted to do to someone who did that to me but most of the time they’d actually just appreciate it because it would make their lives easier so. -__- 

2) Rain-AmaLee

“That look of sympathy, it's nothing new to me You would think by now it wouldn't faze me

It storms on, into another day it's pouring on And I watch, knowing that there is no end in sight Here we stand hand-in-hand now as we look out on the world Just one umbrella to keep us dry from the storm” 

I listed to this song HELLA because I felt like it was theme song for most of the year because I felt as if I should be used to other people giving me “the look” whenever I was upset about something else that went wrong in my life. But alas, I was not. And likely never will be. I saw the last verse here as being more symbolic of the side of me that never wanted to get out of bed in the morning and the side of me that wanted to do something more than sit and suffer all the time, even if all both could see was nothing but more trials and tribulations ahead. 

3) I’ve Been Waiting-Lil Peep, ILOVEMAKONNEN, FOB

“Break my heart but don't tell me I'm not doin' fine 'Cause I'm doin' fine Let me go, I'm spendin' time Not doin' fine but I'm doin' fine

Fuck me up and make me just go crazy Addicted to the pain that you just made me love (whoa, yeah)

And now the time is right, you wanna do me so wrong Now the time is right, you wanna do me so wrong When I've been waitin' (I've been waitin') Long for you (long for you)“ 

Ok so maybe this one is me just being a petty ass bitch but I think this song is pretty self-explanatory. I just really liked the “fuck me up and make me just go crazy” because it was fun to sing. Same goes for the “not doing fine but I’m doing fine”. As for the last verse up there, every time the time seemed perfect or nothing standing in the way, it still never happened so none of my efforts seemed to pay off in the way I hoped they would. I guess that’s one thing I find hard to deal with--never quite getting the recompense I wanted, but in the end it’s the right thing to do to just let it go when it gets to that point I suppose.

4) 85% 

“Ooh, I should really use my head I should really use my head 'stead of thinking with my chest, yeah Ooh, I was dying to connect Gave me 85%, only 85%, yeah

Feelings fade and people change and things they fall apart But that doesn't mean I don't believe in speaking from the heart

I just hope that you don't forget me It wasn't right the way you left me

Could you give me just a little bit more? Should've known what I was asking for We met as friends, we'll end as friends We will be till we die, right? But if you start to miss me, I don't like to be alone So if you wanna try again you better let me know“

WE AINT GOT TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THIS but I think the chorus really says it best. 85% is a good grade, but you still could have done better when you really think about it. And in relationships that extra 15% can make all the difference between trying and not trying enough. Things do fall apart and something there’s nothing you can do but I believe that it’s always worth suffering the consequences of the actions you took rather than the ones you didn’t. In the end I just don’t want to be forgotten. We’ll live and die as something, and I was a friend at some point I hope. Lonely times don’t have to last forever but I won’t know you miss me if you don’t say so. 

5) Space-Ally Hills

“You don't even mind 'cause you don't waste time Filling in all the blanks.I wish you were sad for a day so you would know how it tastes to be lonely (taste to be lonely) I wish you would stay in for a night to see what it's like fading slowly (fading slowly).You were my love, you wanted this, I gave it all, but you took what you did. You were my life, you turned off like a switch. You know what they say, well they say life's a bitch.”

Nobody cares, people move on without so much as a goodbye, they replace you faster than you can say what the fuck, and even if deep down they’re suffering too, they’ll never show it. So that’s fine I guess. Life’s a bitch and then you die and that’s it. I’m just tired. 

6) Love Me-Felix Cartel & Lights 

“You're making me nervous Looking for my car keys and pain killers

You're leaving me hanging So Ima play cool when you think I wouldn't Liquor by the pool when I know you're lookin While I dissect conversations Maybe there's something there for once 

So this could be a cruel summer Or a real lover, tell me how you want it to go

I can't get you off of my mind Why do I keep wasting my time Man you make it easy for me So why can't I make you love me Love me“

UGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH my only real comment on this is that I just keep getting myself into a cycle of love and disinterest that simply fucks over my entire experience of being alive yet I continue to try in vain to make myself happy even though I know it will, in the end, only make me feel significantly worse. However, the only alternative is to suffer alone anyways without even trying! Wonderful.

7) Follow You-BMTH

“So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames I will follow you, I will follow you”

This song makes a return! This time at number seven! I think this is definitely an improvement though, since it’s clearly lower on the totem pole than it was for my life before. Still, the chorus remains the same in it’s meaning. This song was never about unhealthy relationships to me. It’s always been about learning to lean into other people’s darkness without drowning yourself. Luckily I’m not afraid of my own more sinister side of myself, so I can dive headfirst into other people’s without fear of drowning because I know how to keep my head just far enough above the fire to drag us both out, even if they try to throw me back in.

8) Baby-Clean Bandit, MARINA, Luis Fonsi

“Standing here in an empty room I saw you there and my blood ran cold Take me back to that long September Don't know how I ever let you go

My heart's like a rubber band And it's such a shame You'll always be the one who got away We both know that deep down you feel the same Hard to say it's over But I'm already someone else's (C'mon)

Wish I met you at another place and time If only, if only you were mine This love story ends for you and I 'Cause I'm already someone else's“

/cries in spanish

Regretting how something ended while simultaneously moving onto somebody else is still very strange. But both of us know it’s over and done with so there’s no use trying to fix something that never worked in the first place. We could have been something but now we’re just alive in each other’s memory as we move on with other people and our lives.

9) In My World (Blue Exorcist) 

“There's no proof I exist He'll, it took everything I have to save myselfHow did we all end up like this? I see the path I've long avoided There's no one left and nowhere else to goFate can screw itself and die As I helplessly only cry for pride Ah ah ah alone in my world I cry a song of love This world is twisted, you blink and miss it All of my hopes and dreams they break and fall away I'm so sick and tired of this torment Goodbye precious life

Fate could take a new coat of paint While I'm bruised and beaten I'll try for pride Ah ah ah alone in my world I sing a song of love This world is twisted, but I won't miss it And with the bonds we've made They will keep us strong Though it sometimes sucks I'll grin and bear it It's my precious life“

Existential crisis, the song. I really like the change of perspective toward the end of the song though. There’s still some fight left in me after all I suppose. 

10) MASAYUME CHASING-BoA (AmaLee English Translation Used) 

“The sunrise reflected in your eyes A burning and brilliant dawn But it's so bright, the future I see I only hope it comes true”

Aw, something nice and cute for once. wtf lol. I do only hope it comes true and isn’t deceiving me again. LOL

[thesinglesjukebox]

ROSALíA - MALAMENTE

[8.23]

This song won Best Alternative Song and Best Urban Fusion/Performance, and based on this score, probably should have won everything else too.

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa: Flamenco-pop, flamenco-tinged R&B, even flamenco rap and flamenco-reggaetón, are nothing new -- past heroes like Rosario, Bebé, Chambao, Papá Levante and fusion legends Ojos de Brujo all have enjoyed international projection and can be considered Rosalía's natural predecessors in that aspect. Rosalía gladly and effectively acknowledges that tradition while contributing to it with her empowered R&B-flavored chants, and the latin urban sensibilities in El Guincho's productions. "Malamente" establishes an interesting dynamic between the modern synths and pads and the traditional palmas a compás, which work in counter-rhythm to her cante, for a track that offers a glimpse into the percussive complexities of rumba while feeling at home in one of those alt-pop playlists. It's a new step in flamenco's legacy. [8]

Crystal Leww: My introduction to Rosalía was her feature on J. Balvin's latest album, a quiet, downtempo, fluttering track among an album of reggaetón bangers. At the Latin Grammys, she beat his monster of a tune "Mi Gente" for Urban/Fusion performance with "Malamente." It's easy to see why: this is slinky and sensual with plenty of interesting flourishes in the production as well as her very own vocal performance. It's perfect critic bait, as it stands out as driving towards a very specific sound, a re-imagining of a largely left behind musical genre in flamenco. The handclaps, the asides, the breaking of the glass, the reverb, the "tra! tra!" -- all of these should take you out of such a quiet song, but Rosalía does just enough without crossing the line. Enric Palau, director of Sónar music festival in Spain recently said that she could be the Rihanna of flamenco. And don't get me wrong, I love Rihanna, but she never had the vision to do something like this. [7]

Alfred Soto: Relistening to Radiohead is not an experience to which I often submit myself, but their use of hand claps, programmed or otherwise, loosened me up for what Rosalía attempts on "Malamente," complete with mournful keyboard. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: Twirling, circular drums wind up around the soft synths, with Rosalía's gentle, short singing and claps carefully herding them together into the field. [8]

William John: We don't have any Andalusian writers on the Singles Jukebox roster, as far as I know, which is a shame in this instance because I've been desperate to read something in English about Rosalía from that perspective that isn't a garbled translation derived from Google software. Rosalía is Catalan, but has sent shockwaves through Spain that are slowly permeating into other Western markets (I confess to learning of her from a Dua Lipa tweet); the shockwaves are in part due to her striking videos, overseen by CANADA (also responsible for that memorable El Guincho video a few years back, who incidentally handles production here), but also for her use of gitanx imagery and accents as a non-gitana. She's addressed these matters with defensiveness and naivety in interviews, and thus in Spain is the subject of some controversy. To her credit, she has worked with Las Negris, a group whose members are part of the Montoyita flamenco dynasty, on this song and elsewhere on her album El mal querer, and she seems to be both a devoted student of flamenco tradition and aware of her place in its world. Her designation as a pioneer, as someone revolutionising a centuries-old artform, seems to have come from media outside Spain more than anywhere else, and it's important to acknowledge that though she presents a perspective that may initially strike Anglo listeners as unusual, she's not the first and likely not the last flamenco artist to add personal flourish to this esteemed cultural institution. But when you watch her in "Malamente," with its portentous murmuring and dramatic "tra TRA!" hook -- one of the year's most insidious -- as she variously claps with menace leaning over the steering wheel of a truck, is raised up by forklift like a martyr to the pyre, and sits atop a frozen motorcycle, flagged down by a matador, with an expression of incredible intensity, isn't her baptism as a revolutionary, future world conqueror the most obvious conclusion? [9]

Iris Xie: Something about this song is instinctual, velvety, and haunting, like it will grab you by the chest and then dare you to explore what lies in the world that it came from. Inside of its vortex, it conjures up the perfect environment for being audacious enough to dance on a cutie that you see at the club, and there's enough breathing space in between the instrumentals and vocals to cultivate a chemistry and charisma after. There's a stunning pre-chorus from 1:34 that reminds me of the high, dreamy vocals in some Bollywood sequences, before it drops back low into a whispered chorus that undulates with a mesmerizing repetition. You can't help but dance along to that. It's a siren's song, remixed for 2018 and creeping along to a venue near you. [8]

Stephen Eisermann: Growing up, I was always enthralled by (what I thought was) gypsy culture. Clearly, the problematic media portrayals in both Disney movies and novelas my mom had playing in the background gave me a limited and exoticized view of gypsy culture and even now as I've taken the time to learn more, its hard to shake predispositions if the past. This song, very clearly R&B but with Latin tinges and seemingly Arab pop phrasing, is a culmination of all sounds that feel mysterious, as if the sound coming from my speakers form together to make that image of a gypsy from my past. All at once I'm enthralled and embarrassed, knowing that I should move past negative media portrayals yet entranced by the imagery this song brings to mind. [8]

Pedro João Santos: By releasing "Malamente," Rosalía achieved that moment of conquering the pop sphere all at once, in the span of 2:30. Aong with co-author El Guincho, Rosalía never relinquishes control, and they distill flamenco into sleek, diligently-precise soundscapes. That sonic mesh, differing from the traditional approach taken on her last album, has been the subject of controversy. I highly recommend reading from all points of view on the matter of cultural appropriation and, although that of the Andalusian community prevails, it's hard to grasp everything. This is a single that defies expectations of what an inaugural moment of pop domination is -- its foreboding edge, the multilayered sound, the conceptual richness (most evident if its parent album) -- and takes other expectations to an extreme -- vocal prowess is conspicuous, but my favorite part is how hooks are thrown relentlessly at the forefront and into the background. Within just ten seconds: "Así sí? Tra tra! Mal, muy mal, muy mal, muy mal... Mira! Toma que toma." Instant yet disorienting, seamless yet complex. In any measure other than cultural sensibility, as Rosalía's use of flamenco will continue to be the center of debate: it's bulletproof. [9]

Will Adams: The handclaps alone would have convinced me, but it's Rosalía's steely confidence that makes "Malamente" worth revisiting. [7]

Edward Okulicz: It's a short song, but it's so packed with intoxicating and instantly gratifying hooks and smaller, subtle details that make it so satisfying to dive deeply into. Rosalía's voice embodies so many moods in such a short time that one can't help but be impressed at her performance and composition. She sings, she whispers, she interjects her catchiest lines with other catchy parts. The clapping rhythm is infectious, and the song generates so much heat I'm sure my blood raised the temperature of my body a couple of degrees after having it on repeat for an hour. After that, I put it on for another hour. [9]

Juan F. Carruyo: Some friends of mine hyped Rosalía to me by claiming she was "inventing a whole new genre," which is probably a disservice to the successful fusion she and her co-conspirator El Guincho manage here: a bare bones production that's rescued by a sultry flamenco melody and lots and lots of attitude. This is the one that blew up because it's her most global, retaining just enough of an exotic touch to draw people in -- the handclaps, the slang that gives the song its title -- but also holding back from her virtuous pipes. [9]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Rosalía's sophomore album was inspired by a 13th century fable entitled The Romance of Flamenca, a classic love triangle story that centers on Count Archimbaut's jealousy-fueled transformation toward insanity. He eventually imprisons his wife -- the eponymous Flamenca -- in a tower, allowing her to leave its confines for no more than two reasons: bathing and mass. He was meant to represent the very opposite of courtly behavior to the story's readers, and yet, this portrait of a powerful man restricting a woman's life is just as necessary today. There's consequently no greater statement that could have started El mal querer than its lead single, "Malamente." The interaction of its flamenco palmas with minimal percussion and synth pulses pits listeners in a space between the traditional and contemporary. Even more, the spacious world that she and El Guincho create is simultaneously anxious and impassioned. Rosalía's vocalizing glides smoothly along the beat before sharply piercing listeners with jaleo in the form of "illo!" and "tra, tra!" adlibs. In the album's narrative, "Malamente" prefaces Archimbaut and Flamenca's wedding, and the track's subtitle indicates that the song is an omen. What is it foretelling, exactly? Well, it warns of the tumultuous relationship that's to come from the Count and his wife, but it's also a declaration that Rosalía is putting forth regarding her music, that it's going to be charting unfamiliar territory. Critics may, and have, decried "Malamente" as being disingenuous to flamenco's roots, positing that Rosalía is a mere cultural appropriater. This is despite her time spent at the Catalonia College of Music, a school where only one student per year is admitted to studying flamenco, and whose flamenco teacher commented that Rosalía was their most memorable pupil. She also has been vocal in wanting to collaborate with people outside the world of flamenco, and has already met with artists such as Pharrell and Arca. In a sense, Rosalía's critics try to force her into her own proverbial tower, but it's clear that she won't stay inside. With "Malamente," she delivers that very message to whoever will listen, reimagining new stories for Flamenca and flamenco in the process. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The way "Malamente" worms into your brain, dancing in as this amorphous thing pulsating polyrhythmically and working in tones just barely within the boundaries of pop music, is deeply compelling. Even more compelling is what Rosalía does with it: over the funhouse-mirror flamenco-R&B palace she builds, the Catalonian singer's precisely sung portrait of fractured fate and consequences feels real and haunted in a way that few pop songs truly are. [9]

[Read and comment on The Singles Jukebox]

[dunnfor29]

Snowed In

A/N Again, this was just something I wrote to practice my second person perspective. It’s nothing substantial, just a bit of fun. Beta’d by the lovely @notsomolly. NSFW-ish.

- I’m lonely.

Two words from your best friend and you were on a flight the very next day to join him for a bit of his press junket and possibly some award shows. Not that it was a big hassle; you could telecommute for work and it wasn’t exactly unpleasant to stay in five star hotels with full room service. And Sebastian was a nice bonus, you thought with a stifled laugh. You two were close and had been for years. There was a peace and a comfort that you found in him that no other person or place provided.

You stared out the window at the snow coming down; this was day three of the storm and, consequently, day three of being cooped up in Sebastian’s hotel suite. You had ventured into his bed earlier that morning, complaining of being cold. You peered up at him from where your head was perched on his shoulder to find his eyes closed, his breathing steady. “Seb,” you whispered, “Sebastian.” He hummed in response, lids flickering slightly. “Play a game with me.”

“Pardon?”

“We’re snowed in,” you shrugged, “we’re clearly bored, let’s just do something silly and stupid.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

You thought it over for a moment, before a childlike spark of mirth ignited behind your eyes. “Truth or Dare.” You frowned when Sebastian barked out a laugh. “Aw, c’mon! I know it’s super seventh grade, but it could be entertaining.”

“To say the least,” he added. “All right. We’ll play Truth or Dare, but all bets are off; no backing out of anything.”

“I’ll agree to that on the condition that everything stays within these walls,” you stated, “I won’t have my dirty little secrets gossiped about on any movie sets and I’m certainly not stripping down to run naked down the hall or out into the snow.” Another sharp bark of laughter sounded off the walls. “Deal?”

“Deal.” You shook hands, then sat up, wrapping the soft throw tighter around your shoulders. “Now, since it’s my hotel suite, I think I reserve the right to go first.” You made to protest, but Sebastian shushed you. “Here it goes: Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Hm… Kiss, Marry, Kill out of the Avengers cast.”

You snorted. “That’s an entirely different game, Seb.”

“Fine. Still truth?” You nodded. “Who, of the Avengers cast, would you most like to kiss?”

Without hesitation, you purred, “Chris.”

“Which one? There’s three in the Marvel films and two are in the Avengers.”

“Pick one,” you winked, with a casual shrug. “Truth or Dare.”

“What? No, you didn’t answer the question.”

“Yes, I did. You didn’t ask me to specify a last name. I could’ve said Tom and you’d still be confused as to who I meant.” You gave him a brilliant smile. “Now, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” he sighed.

“You’ve had roles before where you’ve kissed other men. If you had to kiss one of your Avengers cast mates, who would you choose?”

“Well, since Mackie isn’t here to give me shit for this, I guess I’ll say Evans, just to see tens of thousands of teenage girls’ heads explode.”

“How very devious of you,” you said, laughing. “The Stucky fandom would never recover.”

He winked. “All right, your turn: Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.” It was your ultimate, go-to answer. Dare always seemed too… well, daring. Truth was safer. At least, it had always been safer, but Sebastian didn’t seem to want to let you off easy.

“Let’s make this interesting…” were the words uttered immediately before you knew you could no longer hide behind banality. Inwardly, you cringed. “Where is the naughtiest place you’ve ever had a hickey?”

“Wow. Right to juicy stuff, eh?” You attempted to stall, but his eyes were already scanning your body, a mischievous glint in his eye. It made your stomach feel strange… good strange, but strange nonetheless. “So, like, location?”

“Yeah, location on your body.”

“Okay, but-”

“No buts, remember? You can’t back out of any question or dare.”

“Can I change my answer to dare then?” He shook his head and you sighed, defeated, then whispered, “I’ve never had a hickey before.”

He shot you a look of disbelief. “That’s the lamest excuse ever. C’mon, just answer and then you can embarrass me.”

“No, Seb, I mean it… I really have never had a hickey.” You wouldn’t meet his gaze now, so he reached out to grab your hand. Glancing at him from beneath your lashes, he gave you a soft, if not a bit teasing, smile. You straightened up and smacked his hand away. “Nope. You’re trying to distract me. It’s my turn to embarrass you, remember?”

He laughed, hearty and genuine. “Turnabout’s fair play. Shoot.”

“Truth or Dare.”

“You want to know the naughtiest place I’ve ever had a hickey, don’t you?”

You flailed dramatically, then flopped back against the king size bed. “You take the fun out of everything.”

“Do you wanna know or not?” You turned to look at him, opening one eye skeptically. Did you? He didn’t wait for further assurance that you did, he simply lifted one edge of the hem of his plain white tee, and tugged his joggers down just a smidge, circling that delightful V – well, half of the V – that disappeared further down. “Right about there.”

You couldn’t help but stare a little. The trail of fine hairs that descended from his navel was also visible and a tiny, but prominent vein was raised under the skin over his hipbone. Your mouth went dry, but you cleared your throat and redirected your gaze level with his. The smirk tugging at his mouth was a clear indicator that he knew you were admiring his little sinful skin show. And, honestly, it made you all the more turned on.

“Your turn,” you whispered, finally, hoarsely. He chuckled, readjusting his tee, and covering his lap with the sheet. When he asked, you struggled to decide; you already felt like you’d revealed something very private and vulnerable, so you opted for Dare. And oh, what a mistake that was, for as soon as the word dropped from your tongue, he got a devious smile before biting his bottom lip. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me do something insane, aren’t you?”

“Not insane, no. I just think you should let me give you a hickey.”

Your eyes nearly bulged from your skull. “What? Are you fucking kidding?” He shook his head, reaching to take your hand again, rubbing circles into your palm. You wanted to yank it from his grasp, and yet, you never wanted him to let go at all. Sebastian always evoked such strong, conflicting emotions in you. “Why?”

“Because you’ve never had one. And you picked Dare.” He said these things as if they were obvious, rational explanations. “No backing out,” he reminded, softly.

“C’mon, Seb. Don’t you think it would be a little odd for you to just suck a love bite into my skin? Besides, I can’t have a giant bruise on my neck when I go back to work.”

“Okay, first off, we don’t have to jump right to it, we can ease our way in, take our time. And secondly, there are plenty of non-visible places on your body.” You shivered; imagining his mouth on your throat was delicious enough, but now he was talking about your body – torso, most likely – and it was suddenly very warm in the room. You tossed the throw aside and looked pointedly at him. “So?”

“All right, let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that I agreed to this. How would we go about leading up to it and where were you thinking of leaving this so-called hickey.” You were flustered and he could tell; he tried to hide his amusement, but it was no use, you saw right through him. He cleared his throat and motioned for you to lie down, flat on your back. Without so much as a second thought, you followed his direction. “What now?”

“Well, like you said, for argument’s sake, I would say we could lead up to it by making out a little – get a little foreplay going,” his voice, though still playful, had dropped an octave, the timbre reverberating in your chest he was so close to you now. “As for where…” He touched a fingertip to the hollow of your throat and traced downward, stopping at your sternum, then the bottom of your ribcage, to your abdomen, coming to a stop at your pelvic bone. “All possibilities.”

“So, you, just…” you swallowed, thickly, trying to act relaxed, blasé even, while simultaneously trying to quiet your rapidly increasing heart rate. His eyes were skimming slowly from your surely flushed face to where your hands wrung the hem of his NASA tee you just happened to have borrowed. You tried again: “So, you, just… like, want us to make out?” It came out apprehensive and you suspected he knew how nervous you were and, indeed, he called your bluff.

“No. I’m daring you to make out.” He smirked, “and the hickey, of course.” He pauses for a few beats, presumably waiting for you to back out, push him away… but you don’t. He leans further over you, blue eyes meeting yours, seeking permission, which you silently give with a subtle nod of your head. He gives you a soft, half smile before moving in.

At first, it’s just the brush of his nose against yours, then traveling across your cheekbone and back again. His bottom lip touches your top one until his mouth closes over yours. It’s slow, tender, and not at all what you were expecting. You sigh into the kiss, which he takes full advantage of, just barely tasting you. At some point, you had fisted his tee in your right hand and you jerked him closer, causing him to laugh and deepen the kiss to your command.

His hands are occupied elsewhere; one brushing the loose strands of hair away from your face, cradling your head, and the other lightly massaging your hip. In your head, you can hear this tiny voice begging him to go a few inches to the left, to the apex of your thighs. It shocks you to realize that it’s your voice; you frown and shake your head vigorously to loosen those thoughts. He pauses from where his lips had been lightly sucking your collarbone.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” All five words come out in a rush of one single breath. “Seb, I’m-”

“Nervous,” he whispers, lips suddenly at the soft spot just behind your ear. “If you want me to stop-”

“No!” He lets a soft laugh escape, his breath brushing against your skin in the most delicate way, and you shiver. You stiffen, resolute in your next statement. “I mean I’m not backing out of this dare.”

He tuts at you, mockingly disapproving, then quietly says something in Romanian. You nearly growl; he knows how frustrated you get when he speaks in his native tongue. Not just because you don’t understand, but also because it’s an incredible turn on. Well, you actually hadn’t ever told him that second part. He most certainly knows now, though, as you whine impatiently and lift your hips into his.

Another few tuts, followed by another sentence in Romanian. The hand on your hip begins to move, his palm flat against your pelvis, his thumb slipping beneath the hem of your shorts while his fingers smoothly glide against the skin of your stomach. The warmth of skin on skin, the sheer exciting impiety of knowing it’s Sebastian’s, makes all your unilingual anger dissipate. His tongue is teasing the hollow at the base of your throat and it sets your body on fire to know he can hear, and feel, all the appreciative noises you’re making.

“I think you’re enjoying this,” he mumbles, tugging your tee up until it’s bunched around your ribs. “Should we just, y’know, lose the top?”

You know you’re wearing a bralette underneath, but it’s not exactly covering much. You shook your head and he doesn’t press the issue any further. Instead, his mouth is on yours again, teasing it open with the tip of his tongue, delighting in parting the seam of your kiss-swollen lips. Fuck, he was such a good kisser; you had always suspected it from watching his love scenes in various projects, but wow did this surpass even those high expectations.

And just when you were completely punch drunk, he moved lower, his exquisite lips finally coming into contact with the skin of your abdomen. He’d lick, then bite and suck, then lick again to soothe the sting. Over and over, he repeated this process for a good twenty-five seconds; first at the very bottom of your sternum, then again on the left side of your ribcage, and one last time on your right hipbone.

It felt as though you weren’t even in the room, on that bed, beneath Sebastian. It was a total out of body experience, or at least that’s the only way you could identify it. You had heard yourself moaning, panting, whining, all while writhing under his ministrations. Now, as you were coming to, you realized that your right hand was twisted in the shoulder of his tee, and the left was gently grasping a fistful of soft, brown hair. Then, you made eye contact.

“You. Said. Hickey.”

He quirked a brow, then laughed, “What?”

“Hickey, Seb. You said hickey. Not plural.”

“Mm, I didn’t hear a complaint,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the one on your hip. “Though, I will admit, this game turned into something definitely more R-rated than something one would play in seventh grade.” That made you both laugh as he came to lie beside you. “So, how were your first hickeys?” He emphasized the ‘S.’

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be forgetting them anytime… well, ever.”

[darspeaksout]

Questions & Answers on Writing

Tell us about your WIP! 

        It takes place in the Philippines and follows the story of two friends who are part of the same church, but throughout the story they drift apart. Ten years later, now adults, each is recounting the story to a loved one; one is telling it to his five-year-old daughter while the other to his co-worker.

Where is your favorite place to write?

        My room, at night. 

What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?

       Favorite - making sense of my own experiences and letting people in on issues they probably don’t think about on a day-to-day basis. I also love creating dialogue. 

       Least favorite - I find it difficult to describe abstract, philosophical concepts that not everyone can easily relate to, such as how a person feels during worship or the spiritual connection one feels simply by sitting inside a church. (My current story has to do with religion so I run into this problem a lot). It’s not so much of a challenge for me to write these experiences for my characters, but when I begin to edit my draft I know I’ll have to find a way to introduce these things in a way that everyone - whether spiritual or not - can appreciate.

Favorite character you’ve written?

       It’s too early to say. 

Favorite/most inspirational book?

       Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Beautiful prose, eloquent style, solid voice, religious theme. Hands down the best book I have read. 

Describe your writing process

       Everywhere. I’ll start with the opening for the story, then jump all the way to the ending, then I’ll fill in some parts in the middle, and do some touches here, touches there. My process isn’t linear at all, which I think is common for many writers. I also think it’s important to not just stay home all day and lock myself with my laptop; in order to write meaningfully I must also go outside, experience the world, and really feel. Writing isn’t just about putting the right words down on the page, it’s a highly empathetic art - it involves a lot of feeling. That’s why it’s normal for me to be working on my story while simultaneously going on a trip whether nearby in nature, or a city across the world. I also like to read books of authors I admire while working on my project, to study their style and improve my own but also to get away from my own head for a while. 

What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?)

       What gets me going to write a book is my Idea, and yes - with a capital I. I ask myself, what is my Idea? And why do I want to tell it to the world so badly? This Idea keeps me up at night, is the reason why I’m always so restless, and is what fuels me. For my current story, I’ve had to research places in the Philippines because that’s where my story takes place, and I’ve only lived there for a few years before moving to another country. I have also conducted interviews of girls’ perspectives of being part of religious organizations for my female lead. Traveling also plays a role into how ready I am to tell a story, specifically to describe a location, accurately. I need to make sure I get all the details right, and so for my writing to read as authentic and not forced.

How do you deal with self-doubt when writing?

       Prayer plays a huge role. I start every writing session with a prayer, as I do with each morning before I tackle the day ahead. When I pray, I’m able to calm myself and be in the right mental space to write as honestly as possible. It also reminds me that my talent and passion were given by God, and that even though at times I may doubt myself and in how many people my story will reach, ultimately what I am meant to do with my writing is bigger than any self-doubt. When the love is stronger than the fear, the goal will be accomplished.

What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing?

       Scenes - heavy with dialogue. Working on my current story, I realize that I feel so at home writing dialogue. Perhaps this is from watching so many Filipino movies, which have the sassiest and most sarcastic characters you could ever come across. That’s why I love crafting villains and power-hungry antagonists. 

       Topics - religion, masculinity, family, platonic relationships

       Character types - the one who struggles with self-acceptance, and worries that others won’t love him if he reveals his true self. 

How do you cope with writer’s block?

       I don’t care what anyone else has said to you; there is no “trick” or “hack” to get over writer’s block. The cure is simple: just write. I think people experience writer’s block often because they’re scared to take on the project in the first place. They’re scared because they don’t yet fully know their story, because they have confidence in this scene but are worried about another, because they don’t know how the people around them will receive it. To combat writer’s block, you really just have to surrender all your worries and just do it. It’s about channeling the drive to sit yourself down at your desk, open your laptop, and write. Write something, even if it’s garbage. Write something, even if you won’t end up using it in the final draft. In the outlining process of my story, for example, I was debating if I should include this whole supernatural element and mythical legend in my story. I spent pages upon pages developing this possible subplot, only to scrap it because I decided it wouldn’t contribute to my story. I didn’t end up using it, but at least I was productive and wrote something! I still persevered even though I felt stuck. And producing content I decided I wasn’t going to use, only gave me a clearer vision of what I did want to use. What’s also key is that you do not stop. Dedicate some time every day to write, depending on what suits your schedule. Don’t miss a day. Even if you’re just going to write two pages of dialogue but don’t have the narrative, just do it! What’s important is that everyday, you’re making progress. 

Any advice for young writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on?

       You might think that your ideas are crazy and that no one could possibly relate to them, but you’d be surprised. We’re all pretty much the same even though we come from different walks of life; everyone is capable of feeling, empathizing, laughing, crying, getting angry, getting hurt, etc.! So if your characters are doing at least one of those in your story, I guarantee you someone will be able to relate. Just tell your story. 

What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

       My tenacity and how I never stopped. 

Tell us about the books on your “to write” list

       Hmm... I don’t think about this often because I’m still drafting my first story. But eventually I would like to write a story about two friends who become rivals, as they are driven apart by competition in a prestigious university. 

How do you stay focused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison?

       I’m able to concentrate over long periods of time mainly because of prayer. It also helps that I’m very open with my friends and they support me on my writing journey, so talking about my plans only fuels me even more to write every day. As for comparison - I don’t compare myself to others. Whenever I read another writer’s work, whether they’re a National Bestseller or simply just starting like myself, I ask myself, “what do I like about this piece?” “How can I use some of their techniques and twist them so I can make them my own?” 

Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

       Both. Reading books or watching movies - consuming any artistic medium, really - which relate to my specific topic provides some insight into the genre I’m working with, and how much I would like to deviate from the norm. Consuming content that is dissimilar to my story is something I still find to be useful, because it doesn’t matter what kind of writing it is: if it’s good writing, it’s good writing. And it can always teach me something new. For example, I’d say my current story is leaning more towards contemporary young adult, but I just read After Dark by Haruki Murakami, which falls into the genre of magical realism. I went into that book seeking to be entertained and inspired, and I was surprised to see that my story and Murakami’s share similar themes. 

Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

       Sometimes, the book isn’t better than the movie.

Post the last sentence you wrote

       “With that, Guang Fu offers me a sympathetic smile and steps into the building. All the way below I can hear a ship’s horn as it leaves the harbor, and the push and pull of the gentle tides.“

Are there any books you feel have shaped you as a writer?

       Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

       Alias Grace - Margaret Atwood

       Crazy Rich Asians (the entire trilogy) - Kevin Kwan

       South of the Border, West of the Sun - Haruki Murakami

What is the first line of your WIP?

       “It was a sunny afternoon in Manila when I dropped my girlfriend off at her house.“

[md3artjournal]

7:19 PM 9/3/2020 It's come to my attention that although my reblog text under the cut is hidden from a post's Notes/Replies on Tumblr-desktop, it is all very visible on Tumblr-mobile/phone version.  Ugh.  So I could no longer simply reblog the referenced post, and hide all my comments under a cut.  So here are all my angsting thoughts again, after doodling this drawing, but as a separate post, for my art journal blog.  

10:42 PM 9/2/2020

I don’t even know what I'm doing anymore.  Today, I sat down to draw and I must have wasted 15+minutes, indecisive about what to draw with.  I wanted to just use one of my fountain pens, but

1) Yesterday's line bleeds proved that the Pilot Petit is just not good for my tiny doodles;

2) My only other fountain pen is my Platinum Preppy, but I should be saving that ink for writing in my habit tracker; that's what I bought it for; and it's not so easy to just buy more ink cartridges during this pandemic;

3) My fountain pens' inks are not waterproof? What if halfway through my drawing I decide I want to use half watercolors?  Again?  

So then my safest option was my Copic Gasenfude.  Impervious to water, alcohol marker ink, everything.  But my pen is so dry...  I tested it beforehand, to convince myself it was still fine.  But the test felt very different from the drawing.  During drawing, I missed the smooth flow of my fountain pens sooooooooooo much.  I should've just opened one of my new Gasenfude pens for this drawing.  But I'm too chicken about using up supplies, in general.  x_____x;;;;;;;;;  

What's with my Copic Multiliners?  Do they just bleed more on my cheap sketchbook paper?  Because I remember my lines being fuzzy on the close-up scans too.  Or am I just so out of practice drawing with them now, that all my lines end up stiffer than usual?  Or maybe they're getting dry too?  They are pretty old pens by now.  ~.~;  

*sigh* I miss my fountan pens, but I need waterproof ink for my linework.  x_x;  

I heard that Indian ink is waterproof after it dries, but all my bottles of Indian Ink dried up decades ago.  Plus, all my dip pens are rusty and don't even work with my acrylic inks that I already have.  I don't want to buy more supplies, then they turn out to not really work for me.  I've done that too much already.  ...Though I do have my eye on that Deleter trial dip pens set...and Indian ink sounds too good to be true...  But I have so many supplies lying around, I really should just find a way to use them.  Even if they turned out to not really work for how I naturally think/work, I already spent the money on them.  I should *find* a way to make them work.  I'm so simultaneously wasteful AND cheap with my art supplies! X~x!  

That's also why I want to be able to switch over to cheap $1-store/Daiso watercolors, instead of using up Copic ink on full drawings.  But if I never know when I'm going to need that mid-way medium switch, then I need waterproof/Copic-proof ink.  

Well, no matter the case, it probably wouldn't help my terrible terrible drawing too much.  I mean, today's doodle gave me problems making lines because the ink just would not flow out of my drying Gasenfude pen.  But also, I had to realize that I've become out of practice with true brushpens.  I've been using Copic Sketch and nylon nib "brushpens" all this time, thinking I've stayed in practice.  But bristle brushpens are too different, and I forgot that.  I've become horrible with brushpens, and the Gasenfude used to be my go-to.  x_______x;;;;;

Anyway, nothing about drawing today has been good for my self-esteem.  I made a horrible drawing, that wasn't even pretty, I started too high on the page and too close to yesteray's doodle, so Akira and Ryuji's heads ended up squashed on top, to fit into the page space.  I was reminded how easily I lose skill even with mediums/tools that I used to be competent at.  I proved yet again that I just can't make beautiful drawings---and maybe that's more of an issue of me not actually wanting to be good at drawing.  I didn't want to admit it, but maybe that's something I have to do.  Maybe I don't actually want to become good at drawing.  I hate studying, I can't stand brushing up on human antomy, perspective, gesture motions, all those fundamentals, and every time I force myself to, I get so frustrated, I'm horrible to myself and everyone else around me in real life.  That can't be worth scribbling a bunch of skeletons that end up ugly an reinforcing my low self-esteem anyway.  

My sister commented once that even though being an artist was hard, at least I enjoyed drawing.  At the time, I told her that I don't actually like drawing.  I told her that I liked "having had drawn".  Since then I did find that those statements weren't true.  I have found drawing cathartic, even while I was drawing.  I even felt horrible on days where I didn't get to draw.  I liked drawing.  

...I'm just REALLY REALLY REALLY bad at it, and I have no inclination to put in the hard word to make my drawing better.  But I will spend all day, comparing myself to better fan-artists online, and lamenting how I can never make anything beautiful.  x___x;;;;;;  

So I go around telling people that "I'm actually more of a sculptor than an illustrator", as if distracting to a medium that most people are less familiar with, and that is easier for people like me to make beautiful things, would do anything to help my horrible lack of drawing skills.

I remember, all the times I've tried to learn a new videogame, and I'm inclined to believe tha tmaybe I jsut don't like learning new things.  Even for games that eventually became my favorites, my comforts, my completely intuitive flow states, I was still compeltely frustrated and horrible to be around, while learning.  I shouldn't be surprised then that I don't play videogames as much anymore, even though I'm desperately reluctant to let go of my gamer identity.  But I recall the last party I was invited to, and I was wrangled into learning a new tabletop game.  I was completely against it, all throughout, during, and at every moment.  I was just waiting for it all to end.  I don't think I like games, because learning to play, leaning sets of rules, and functioning within MORE systems, must be the last thing my brain wants to do during leisure time.  I can even remember a few moments when I was obstinately inattentive or simply refusing to abide by office expectations and protocols---and I don't know why!  Why was I just _so_ exasperate and unwilling to put effort into following simple rules?  I'm beginning to I think that maybe as I get older, the less energy I have to learn things.  Which is only a theory, because even when I was younger, I didn't like playing games because I didn't want to learn rules.  Plus, I've always been "someone who loves to learn"...Just academic knowledge and inforational stuff, not games.  Games and human interaction in general, have always been too much work for me to enjoy.  So if there's any reason why I can't get myself to study illustration fundamentals, no matter how much I lament not being able to draw something beautiful (at least to warrant my making a living in artist alley!) then I have to wonder if my inexplicable disdain for learning new rules is the reason.  

I don't even know what I'm writing about.  I think I was originally just hoping that drawing with a new Gasenfude that wasn't drying, would help me draw lines more easily.  x_x;  Please ignore my venting.  

[faierius]

In His Shoes (2. Out of Body Experience)

               Prompto was the first to wake. His limbs didn’t want to cooperate, all heavy and ungainly. His head throbbed and he was dreading opening his eyes to the sunlight beating down on them. Everything felt intact despite the hard-fought battle they lost last night, but that didn’t mean his friends faired the same.

               “Noct?” he questioned. Oh Gods, his voice sounded awful, deep and gravelly. What had that thing done to him? He sounded like Gladio. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Noct?”

               “Here,” Ignis called.

               Slowly opening his eyes, Prompto pushed himself into a sitting position. His body moved like a lead sack, but he got himself up. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he paused. “Why do I have a beard?”

               “Huh? Did you hit your head, big guy?” Ignis asked, raising a brow at him.

               “Big guy? I think it was you that hit your head. Where’s Noct?”

               Ignis scowled. “I’m right here.”

               “Yeah, yeah. Very funny Iggy.”

               “No…what? Maybe you need glasses, too. How the hell can you confuse me with Specs?”

               Prompto narrowed his eyes. “Uhhokay. Why don’t you listen to yourself, and look at yourself, bud? You are most definitely not Noctis.”

               Scowling deeply, Ignis got to his feet. He was squinting hard as he looked down at himself. Patting his chest, he saw his hands and an eyebrow rose. “What the hell?” he whispered, eyes shooting wide. Head snapping up, he glowered at Prompto. “Why do I sound like Specs? And why am I wearing his clothes?”

               “Uhh…because you are Specs? You’re freaking me out, dude.”

               “No, no, I’m Noctis. What the hell is going on here?”

               “Iggy, careful. You’re gonna step on your glasses,” Prompto told the man, pointing at his feet.

               “I don’t wear glasses!”

               “Okay, you’re confused, Iggy.” Leaning forward to push himself off the ground, Prompto looked down at his hands. Too big, connected to thick, uncovered wrists, connected to huge tattooed forearms. Prompto’s jaw dropped. “I’m…Gladio?”

               “Uh, yeah?” Picking up the glasses, Ignis scowled at them before slipping them on his face. Surprise washed over his features.

               Prompto managed to get to his feet, staggering under his own unfamiliar weight. “Did that daemon spray us with something? I’ve gotta be hallucinating.”

               “Hallucinating what?”

               “This?” Prompto answered, swinging his arms wide. “You’re Ignis, but you say you’re Noctis. I look like Gladio, but I’m Prompto!”

               “You’re Prompto?”

               “Yeah, dude! At least I was before we got knocked out. Aw, man! This sucks.” The complaint sounded so weird coming out in Gladio’s voice.

               “Tell me something only Prompto would know,” Ignis—Noctis?—asked him.

               “The first time we fooled around, you chaffed my nipples so bad, nothing could touch them for an entire day afterward,” he replied, staring at the ground as he spoke. Saying this to someone who may not be Noctis churned his stomach, even if it was Ignis.

               “Okay. That was gross coming out of Gladio’s mouth.”

               “Your turn. I need to know you’re Noct.”

               “You have matching freckles on the underside of your butt cheeks. And one on your inner left thigh.”

               Prompto’s lip curled. “Oh Gods, don’t say stuff like that in his voice. It’s so wrong.”

               “Ugh, tell me about it.”

               “Okay, so if you’re Noct, and I’m Prompto, where the heck are Gladio and Iggy?” Scrubbing a hand over his intensely itchy beard, Prompto took a few lumbering steps toward Noct. He was wobbly on his feet, movement slow and heavy. How the hell did the big guy manage in such a huge body? Everything was clumsy and sluggish. Each step thundered through his entirety.

               “We weren’t very far apart when we went down,” Noct replied, crossing his arms and slouching in typical Noctis fashion. It looked odd on Ignis’ body. He huffed and dropped his arms. “This is so weird. Ignis is so…gaingly.”

               “Try being a human behemoth,” Prompto replied, focusing on each step.

               “This is bad enough, thanks.”

               “Guess we should look for them.”

               Scowling deeply, Noctis nodded.

               “On the bright side, at least we don’t have to search at night,” Prompto commented, trying to instill a little optimism into the situation.

               Noct didn’t reply as he pointed out two lumps in the grass a short way off. Testing out their new bodies, they jogged through the clearing toward their friends. Prompto tripped over his massive feet and hit the ground next to his own prone body. Seeing himself like this was mind-boggling. His face looked the same, but different, little things out of place with the image he had of himself. He shuddered. His brain wasn’t built for this.

               “Oh, I pray to whichever of the Six that’s listening its Ignis in here,” he muttered, reaching down and patting his own cheek. “Rise and shine!”

               Light blue—nearly purple—eyes fluttered open. His brow furrowed, the eyes taking a moment to focus. When they locked on the face of Gladio looming over him, the eyes shot wide, a rather unmanly scream erupted from him, and he scrambled backward crab-style.

               “Holy shit! What the hell kinda bad joke is this?” he squeaked.

               Sighing, Prompto lowered his head. Gladio. Just his luck. “Relax, big guy. I know what this looks like.”

               “Do you? Is your face staring back at you?”

               “Actually, yeah!” Prompto watched the comically confused expression spread across his features. “Listen Gladio, this is gonna sound crazy, but we’ve switched bodies. Somehow.”

               “What?”

               Prompto snorted at the flat look on his face. Seeing his own expression was simultaneously creepy and entertaining. “Believe it or not, but it’s Prompto in here,” he said touching his chest—Gladio’s chest.

               Every aspect of his rented-out face wrinkled up. “What?” Gladio asked again.

               “It would appear we are in quite the predicament,” said Ignis, his speech filtered through Noctis’ voice.

               “A predicament? We’ve all changed bodies, and that’s what you’re calling it?” Noctis replied.

               “You’re all just accepting this?” Gladio demanded, eyes wide.

               “What else do you propose we do? Nothing will come of us panicking.” Ignis answered, scowling through Noctis’ bangs.

               Prompto watched Gladio’s mouth open and close as he tried to think of a reply. “What?” was all he managed.

               Unsteady, Ignis rose to his feet. He frowned as he took stock of the strange new body, feeling out old aches, powers attached to the body of the Lucis Caelum bloodline, the different stature… “Alright,” he sighed. “We’ve been at one another’s throats for days, but we need to set petty differences aside at the moment.”

               “How’re you so calm about this?” Gladio demanded again, glaring at the body that used to be home to Noctis.

               “What choice do we have?” Prompto asked, standing up straight and extending his hand. Gladio accepted it, and not used to his new strength, Prompto nearly threw him across the field.

               “Watch it!” complained Gladio, stumbling.

               “Sorry!” Prompto felt his cheeks heat up, brows drawn as he gave the man an apologetic glance.

               Ignis smirked, Noctis’ features taking on a more mature appearance as he did. “I’m not used to seeing color in your cheeks, Gladio.”

               “Shuddap!” Huffing, Gladio crossed his arms. Narrowing his eyes, he looked up at Prompto. “I think you got the better deal in this arrangement.”

               “Really, you wanna pick a fight now?” Prompto grumbled, rolling his eyes.

               “How the hell am I supposed to do my job like this, huh? Prompto’s got all my strength, my mass, probably my weapons, too.”

               Sighing, Ignis turned his head first to Prompto. His brow twitched when he realized the man he wanted to address was no longer in there, and he turned to Gladio. “You’re being childish, Gladio. This is a bizarre inconvenience for all of us, and we need to sit down and discuss things. Out in the open is not the place to do so. Let’s head back to camp.” Ignis reached up to adjust his glasses out of habit, but only touched the bridge of his nose. Lowering his hand, he surveyed the area before turning and walking away from the group. The others hurried to catch up.

               The short walk through the forest was awkward and silent. All four men took the time to acquaint themselves with their new selves. The new stride, the way their clothes fit, the way power flowed through them, even the way things smelled seemed different. Not to mention the way the world looked. New eyes, new perspective. But this was just the beginning for all of them.

[imaginesebastian]

Remedy

A/N: I wrote this one before I even started this blog and decided to post it for y’all. It’s in Bucky’s perspective, which I’ve never posted in beforeeee, so I hope you like it? (It’s like a year old yikes) It’s still a bucky x reader, just not in the readers pov. so yah.

Warnings: Cussing, a little tiny bit of smut, and I think that’s it. 

“Harder!” Stark yelled, causing me to groan. “I’m punching as hard as I fucking can, it’s unfair that you’re using your glove!” 

“Bucky, your arm is metal. You should be able to punch a hole through the damn thing.” Tony was showing absolutely no mercy today, and I couldn’t fucking stand it. Everything about him annoyed the hell out of me, and the fact that we were paired for training just frustrated me even more. 

I clenched my fist as tightly as I could and swung forward with as much force as I could muster, sending the punching bag off of the chains that held it to the ceiling and taking Tony down with it. 

“Was hard enough?!” My voice ached as I yelled, causing everyone else in the training gym to stop and look at us. 

Tony groaned, “I don’t know, you were a little slow on the draw and you could’ve-” 

Steve was quick to rush to my side, everyone’s eyes still on us. “Go cool down.” 

“What?” I protested, my eyebrows furrowing and my jaw dropping. 

Steve gave me a look, that look, that made me sigh. “I’m going for a walk.” 

Without another word, I walked out of the building and into the hot and crowded streets of New York. 

I didn’t mind Tony. In fact I was grateful for him allowing me to stay with everyone, and not leaving me in shitty apartments here and there from state to state or country to country. 

The fact that I had a permanent home was the most mind-boggling thing, something that I never thought I would have after escaping the grasp of HYDRA. It was a place that I knew I could be safe at, and nothing was after me anymore. 

However, he still wasn’t the warmest welcome, which I don’t blame him. After everything that happened between him and Steve, they managed to work it out. Still there was some bad blood between us even though I tried my hardest to make it work out. I live with the guy, but it’s extremely difficult. He’s extremely difficult. 

I stopped walking, leaning against the wall and slipping my back down it. My head fell into my hands as I avoided the curious looks of people walking by. Of course metal arm reflecting the sun into their eyes was absolutely no help. 

“What’s got you down, stranger?” A voice spoke up, breaking me out of my pity puddle. I glanced up, the figure standing in front of me with the rays of the sun shining just behind her head. 

My breath got caught in my throat and suddenly I wasn’t able to think straight. She was so. . . gorgeous. Her eyebrow was raised in question, a crooked, friendly smile on her face. 

“Uh- uhm, nothing. It’s just something. . .” 

The woman sat beside me, mimicking my position and blowing her bangs out of her face. “Well, if it’s nothing but it’s also something, it’s gotta be bothering you pretty badly.” 

“I’m just cooling down.” I muttered, almost forgetting why I was so angry in the first place. All negativity had left my mind and she was suddenly enveloping every thought I had. 

Her eyes squinted at the sun, “You can’t do that in a hundred degree weather outside,” she stood and dusted off her pants, “Come, we’ll eat frozen yogurt and talk about our problems.” 

Her hand reached out to me and again the rays shined from behind her head. 

I took her hand and felt her pull me up, “Nice arm.” 

“Thanks, it was a gift from the Nazis.” 

She paused, her eyes wide before she began laughing loudly, causing people in the street to turn to us again. “Oh man, that was a good one.” 

I chuckled nervously, following her as she pulled me down the street. 

“Where are we going?” I asked after a minute, realizing I had completely forgotten. She turned around with a smile on her face, “To cool down.” 

We rounded a corner and she pulled me into a small store, air conditioning blasting into my face as soon as I entered the building. It felt much better than the humidity of outside. 

“What kind of frozen yogurt do you like?” She asked. I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of how I got into this situation in the first place. 

“I’ve never had frozen yogurt.” 

She rolled her eyes, almost as if we had known each other for years. Like she knew that I was going to say that. 

She grabbed two bowls and handed one to me, walking towards the wall that was full of levers and machines. The flavors were labeled above the dispenser, “This is some future shit.” 

“Right?” She giggled, reaching for the mint flavor, as I filled my own with classic vanilla. 

When we sat down, I suddenly realized I had no clue what to talk about. I slipped the spoon into my mouth and felt the coolness melt onto my tongue and I almost moaned in pleasure.

She sat across from me, a grin on her face, “you enjoying that?” 

I nodded enthusiastically, taking in the bright colors of the restaurant. It’s so... different. So happy. I wasn’t sure if it was the colors that was rising my mood, or if it was her. Either way, I felt a lot better. 

“So, what’s your story?” Her lips were painted a bright red, her eyes surrounded by black eyeliner that somehow brightened the color. 

“My story is unbearably long and tragic.” I explain, a small smile on my face as I wanted to get off of this subject as quickly as possible. 

“I’ve got time.” She whispered. 

I shook my head, “Some other time.” 

She crinkled her nose adorably, sticking the spoon into her mouth and adjusting the small bag that hung around her shoulder and rested on her hip. “Lame.” 

I laughed, loudly. Something that was so genuine that I didn’t think it could happen again, at least for a while. The way the word left her lips and the smile that spread across her face made it fascinatingly funny. 

“What about you,” I settled my laughter slightly, “what’s your story?” 

“I’m not even sure I have a story.” 

“You can’t ask me for my story and then claim you don’t have one!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in exasperation and seeing her shrug in response. 

She collected her hair and slipped it into a messy bun, fanning herself, “Lets go swimming.” 

“I know a place.” 

Soon enough, I was leading her towards the tower and into the building. I kept her as quiet as possible, as to avoid any of the rest of the people living here. Eventually we made it to the elevator and I pressed the button to the floor the pool was on. 

I didn’t want to answer any questions that Steve or anyone would throw at me. After earlier, I didn’t want to see any of them. 

It was nice to be with someone who I didn’t know anything about. It was exhilarating to know that this person could be anyone, and she could have the most amazing life with adventures around any corner, or she could have a boring life, and seeing me was an opportunity for fun. 

Either way, I was certainly enjoying. 

I took her hand and lead her to the pool room. 

The only lights that came into the room were from the windows, and the water sat still while I closed the door behind us.

“Do you live here?” 

“Oh shit, swim suits!” I exclaim, panicking and realizing I’d have to go upstairs anyway. 

“We don’t need them,” a smirk rested on her face, “unless you aren’t wearing boxers?” 

She slipped her shirt over her head and revealed a black bra. I gulped, watching her slip her pants off. I locked the pool door, making sure that nobody could get in. 

“Come on, live a little!” she dived into the pool, resurfacing quickly and padding around softly in the water. 

I slipped my clothing off and was left in just my underwear. She swam towards the edge where I stood, wiggling her finger for me to jump in. 

Suddenly, I was unsure. What if someone walked in and saw us? How would I explain how I got into this situation? I don’t even know her name but I’m so infatuated with her that I don’t want this day to stop. 

She rolled her eyes, “There’s this giant volcano in Yellowstone. It hasn’t erupted in over six-hundred thousand years, and the pressure has been building up for so very long.” 

“Your point?” I questioned, sitting on the edge and dipping my feet into the water. 

“When it erupts, it’s going to kill us all. It could erupt now, or in a thousand years. Either way, debating about what could go wrong just isn’t worth it,” her hands rested on my knees, “live in the moment because everything else is uncertain.” 

Before I could respond, she tugged on my feet and pulled me into the water. 

I resurfaced quickly, pushing my hair out of my face and splashing her. She was absolutely right. Fuck overthinking. Fuck what anyone thinks, I’m just happy she’s here to get my mind off of everything. 

She giggled, swimming away and kicking water at me in the process. Her make up was now smeared and her hair stuck to her head but for some reason she was just as appealing as ever. 

“Come back here!” I yelled, swimming quickly beneath the water and grabbing her leg. 

I pulled her towards me and swam back up, meeting with her face. 

Even in the slightly darkened room, I could still see how bright her eyes were. 

Without thinking about it, my lips were on hers. 

She willingly grabbed my face in her hands, being sure to kiss me back as hard as possible. 

Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist and I rested my hands on her hips while walking backwards towards a wall. 

She wasted no time in pulling at my hair and moaning softly into my mouth. 

Everything about her was so sexy and I was so unbelievably turned on. I could feel my cock begin to stir in my soaking boxers, the feeling of her hips grinding down onto me not helping me in the slightest. 

I wondered if she could feel it. If this was her goal, she certainly succeeded. 

I hadn’t had sex in ages. However, she was something else. Nothing had turned me on this much in a very long time. 

I took her bottom lip between my teeth and kneaded her ass in my hands simultaneously. This resulted in her grip tightening around my body. 

“I don’t want to go any farther if you don’t.” I said into her mouth, feeling her move to spread kisses across my neck. 

“Live in the moment.” She whispered, sinking into the water and before she could get any further, I heard the door knob jiggle and keys clank. 

I pulled her up in a panic just in time for Bruce to walk through the door. 

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. She giggled and swam behind me to hide her body, while Bruce stood at the doorway with a raised eyebrow. 

“Who’s this?” He questioned, and my mouth went dry. 

“U-uhm, this is-” I paused, realizing I was about to have sex with a woman that I didn’t even know the name of. 

“(Y/N). Nice to meet ya.” I turned and looked at her face, seeing her with a friendly grin. Her name was gorgeous.

Bruce reached for towels in the corner of the room, walking them towards us and leaning down to pat my shoulder, “Tony is on his way down. They’ve got security cameras down here.” 

I heard (Y/N) giggle and hop out to wrap a towel around herself. 

Bruce walked out of the room with a chuckle. 

I shrugged my shoulders, “Live in the moment?” 

She pressed her lips against mine, “Always.”