#dali x cloud

[snowshinefivez5]

Goodbye Welcome Home 👋🏼

This fandom has led me through a whole new experience as well as my art receiving attention it had never seen in YEARS!

With that comes pros like meeting amazing people, collaborating with talented artists and being able to draw 50 of your ocs + making creative fashionable fits for them.

As well as a few cons like receiving hate and being harrased to draw ocs for some people

Regardless, the journey was fun and I thank you all for the wonderful experience. I now close this chapter by unaliving the beloved Dali foxy and her boyfriend, owned by my darling 💖 @little-crow44 Cloud.

[little-crow44]

Ok lovelies you know what time it is!! And today I’m sharing my Welcome home OC say hi to Cloud!! He is a Cotton Candy inspired wolf who’s passion is Photography!

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!

yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one

tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-

just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING

Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.

ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA

also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!

but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.

it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.

the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.

but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.

“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”

“ah. . .”

and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.

and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.

“are you alright?”

you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.

“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.

your rival never got distracted.

“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.

“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.

nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.

Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.

Who were you?

You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.

You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).

Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.

Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.

If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.

And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,

“Are you alright?”

Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.

His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.

His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.

“Mmph…”

And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.

lunch time.

you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.

“yiran ? yichen ?”

no response.

you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.

and so you spent the entire time reading,

unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 14: Enjoy the Silence

Gif by @hunterschafer

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: The final heat...

Word Count: 7k

Rating: R

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Has it really been a year? I wish I had a better excuse than "I haven't been doing great." But that's what it is. I've had huge changes in my life. New job, new career, new goals, and a greater sense of self-worth. I'm feeling a lot better. But my new schedule is busy! Hopefully you can forgive me for such a long cliffhanger.

Finally, a heads up. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

I also did the absolute most and made a specific playlist just for this chapter here.

Forever thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, shared, boosted, made content for, and supported me. It meant a lot and definitely kept this fic in the back of my mind. As always, most love to my girl @musings-of-a-rose who has tolerated me being a shitty friend for a whole ass year, and always talking things through with me in life and in this fic. Cheers.

Suggested Songs: Depeche Mode "Enjoy the Silence", Fitz and the Tantrums: "Out of My League", Lizzo "Truth Hurts", Michael Kiwanuka "Cold Little Heart", Cigarettes After Sex "Cry", Guster "Demons"

Frankie and you decided to break your apartment lease starting October 1st. Fall term started on the 30th of August, and you wanted time to settle into your schedule before planning a move. You spent almost all your time at his house anyway, only stopping back at your apartment for more clothes. Frankie had already given you a row of drawers to keep your things in.

You’d honestly never been happier, both on cloud 9 and it never faded, you were incredibly excited to begin this new start with Frankie and Gabi. It all seemed to have happened so fast. It had only been five months, you hadn’t even told your family about him yet, mostly to avoid comments on the age gap. 

You were relieved the hiccup in your relationship settled, you didn’t like feeling unsure or that someone resented you. When you started feeling secure again, you clung to it. That sparkle of joy was hard to keep in check.

You picked your Fall schedule out together and spent the remaining weeks of summer basking in your relationship, playing with Gabi, going out with the guys, and constant fucking. But your most favorite thing was still lying on the couch with Frankie, teasing each other and watching bad TV.

“This is simultaneously the best and worst movie I have ever seen in my life. I don’t understand how they achieved this.”

Frankie shrugs, reaching to your lap for the giant bowl of popcorn, his eyes still glazed to the TV where Mad Max: Fury Road is playing. “I dunno. Who cares? It’s cars and chaos!”

“And Tom Hardy. And Charlize Theron.”

He pinches you on the waist, acting threatened by your thirst just to tease you. “You ever been to a demo derby? This kind of reminds me of it.”

You sit up from where your back is resting against his chest. “Um, no? Isn’t that kind of…for rednecks?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but Benny and Will are rednecks. But no, it’s for anyone who likes cars crashing into each other. There’s actually one at the fair every year. We always go to it. You should come.”

“I’m not going to a demo derby.”

“Aw come on! It’ll be fun! First time for Gabi too, and there’s rides and games and funnel cake and fried oreos—” He pauses as you hold your hand up to silence him.

“I’ll go. You had me at ‘funnel cake.’”

The fair is packed. The final hurrah of the summer before kids return to school and university students dive back into their studies. The derby started at 8 PM sharp, you, Dali, and the boys got there plenty early to look around a bit, get some food, and find seats.

You forgo any typical entree and go right for the funnel cake, heaping fruit and extra powdered sugar on it until the plate is a big mound of sweet. The guys had talked you up on this for days, Benny wouldn’t shut up about it, and you found yourself excited to watch. Your legs bounce impatiently as you scarf down your cake, breaking off pieces here and there to feed to Gabi and your boys.

The seats were bleachers, hard metal planks that hurt your butt and back and caught vibration from every footfall, but Pope sat behind you so you could lean back against his legs to be more comfortable. 

It’s a long wait. The bleachers eventually fill up, you certainly had the best seat in the house (thank you Will), and you could see the hoods up of participating cars behind the commentator podium. The air is musty, the odor of wet dirt from a quick August shower earlier that day.

When the first round of vehicles start revving their engines, Frankie pulls some earphones for Gabi and secures it to her head. Once he’s sure she’s comfortable, he quickly runs you through the basic rules. “So there’s several ‘heats’, and which heat you’re in is based on how many cylinders the car has. Last car moving is the winner, but you can’t just avoid the other cars the whole time. No continuing if your car starts sparking from the engine, no hitting the driver side door, and no hitting anyone who’s already out.” 

“Wait, cars catch on fire in this?”

Before Frankie can answer, the announcer calls out the first heat and you almost choke at the state of the cars coming out. They were completely dilapidated, windows punched out and hood frames reinforced with extra steel. It looked like each entry had about 5 different parts all from different cars, horrendous paint jobs, and one of them even had a stuffed dinosaur duct taped to the hood. Some of them looked like they had already been hit by cars, parts hanging off and bumpers pressing in on itself. None of these cars would last at all. There’s no way...

The rink was surrounded by giant cement cinder blocks creating a large “rink” type area. The contestants lined the front bumpers of their vehicles up parallel to each other at the barricades separating the cars from the bleachers, alternately revving their engines during the countdown.

“Okay, so, usually we all pick the car we think is going to win.” Benny says. You lean forward to look over the assortment of jacked up cars for this heat, eventually settling on an old Toyota Corolla painted a matte black. Benny chooses the dino car, Will chooses a Dodge Stealth with it’s headlights hanging outside the socket, Dali and Pope argue over a Ford Taurus whose back end was already smashed into the back seats, and Frankie chooses a Chevy Impala, which you immediately regret not taking because it has such a long front and back end. Lots of room for smashing and being able to keep going.

Gabi jumps up and down on Frankie’s lap as he points out things to her over the sounds of engines and a countdown, and then the cars are off off, engines roaring and dirt kicking up as they all reverse at full speed, several of them crunching up in the middle while others circle around the perimeters.

It soon becomes clear to you that there is no rhyme or reason to which car makes it and which doesn’t. Pope’s Taurus didn’t even start and is eliminated after 2 minutes of no movement, and whoever is driving the boxy piece of shit Honda Accord that Dali had to select is a fucking maniac, winding and weaving at full speed backwards, hitting whoever gets in their way. Her choice is the winner of that heat. 

Most of them are driving backwards, and Will tells you it’s because they are trying to protect the engine. You deflate in your seat a little in disappointment, but he assures you that as the heat winds down and there's fewer cars taking up the space, the drivers and announcer will get impatient and they will hit each other head to head.

You’re shocked at how much you enjoy it. At one point a car hits the passenger side door of another so hard that it is pushed up and onto the barricade wall from the inertia, hanging from an angle as the crowd jeers and shrieks in excitement. One car flips over completely, another’s engine bursts into flames and the crowd all starts crying out caution because the announcer can’t see it. You’ve never seen anything like it before and there was so much fire you were sure the whole thing would blow up, but the driver slid out the glassless driver’s side window like it was no big deal and walked it off.

There is something satisfying about two cars hitting each other at full speed, the bodies of them crunching, wheels hanging off axles, bumpers being dragged behind and run over by other drivers, cars with mangled pieces becoming stuck to each other so they can’t separate until another car hits them, tires completely gone and cars only moving on its hubs. It’s chaos in a safe format, a way to experience destruction and violence in a way that feels good and unharmful. 

Gabi has never been so amazed in her entire life, her mouth hangs open and she wriggles against her dad to see everything, laughing every time a collision happens. The audience oohs and ahhs and boos and screams and cheers and teases, you and your friends join the clamor as you have your own mini competition with yourselves.  

Giant fork tractors come into the arena area to lift the cars that can’t move anymore, some guys are able to get theirs back up and running, driving them to the sides to shape up for the final Battle Royale.

The final heat is fucking wild. All the cars that were already battered enough before they even began to come back out, returned to do another round for the final winner. With all the action you’d barely even noticed that contestants whose cars were still driveable had spent the remaining heats beyond the barricades hammering and reforming their vehicles enough to compete again. 

And at the end, the winner of all faces the crowd, pulls off their helmet to reveal a thick curly mass of long hair.  The winner is a woman. You and Dali cheer until your throats hurt.

It’s over too soon. There’s a mass exodus the instant the derby is over, the packed stadium standing and pouring down the stairs pressing so tight that you and your boys decide to hang back until it thins out. You lead the way, Frankie’s large and warm hand grazing your waist as you slowly move down the stairs and back out into the fair, turning to wait for the rest of your friends to make it out.

“What next?” Benny says when you are all reunited. “More food? Games? Rides?”

“I’m not eating more before getting on rides, let's do those now.” Says Frankie, grumbling as he hears you tease him with Benny. He whips his head around to glare at you. “Just you wait until you get older and start getting sick on rides, I cannot wait to make fun of you back.”

The wait for the ride tickets is long, but it leaves plenty of time for the group to decide how many are needed. Who is riding what, who isn’t, what pairings and who will watch Gabi on the rides she can’t do. You’re surprised when Will and Pope back out of the Zipper, leaving you and Benny as a pairing for that.

Riding it was a mistake. The ride is basically a giant airborne conveyer belt with completely enclosed containers for people hanging off it that were 360 degree capable. And it lasted FOREVER. You lose some of your funnel cake behind the ride out of sight, threatening violence on Benny if he outs you to the others. 

But it didn’t stop you from riding The Freak Out immediately afterwards, a rotating pendulum swing that made you feel like you were going to be catapulted out of your seat. The ride seated 4 groups of 4 so that in between squeezing your eyes shut, you could catch watery glimpses of Benny red-faced and cackling hysterically, Will’s chants of “ohfuckohfuckohfuckOHfuckOHFUCKOHSHIT FUCCCCCCK!”, and Frankie looking…absolutely fine. It was almost disturbing really, he was calm and collected, the only hint that this might have been something other than a nice drive in his truck was his giant smile, the tears leaking from his squinted eyes, his chocolate curls whipping around in the breeze as his hands clutch his hat in his lap with a steel grip.

“How the fuck were you so calm?!” You gasp as you stumble off the rickety landing platform. You hadn’t moved yet you felt like you had run a mile, your heart was beating so fast from the adrenaline it almost felt like you might have a heart attack. 

Frankie shrugs. “Feels like a copter in a bad air current.” 

You simply stare blinking. 

“No, he’s always like this. Like this one time, we were flying in a helo over the Andes mountains, and—”

A sharp stare from Frankie that he tries to hide from you makes Benny backpedal. 

“Uhhh yea we were flying over some mountains and the air current was wild but we got over the mountains just fine and everything was fine and we were fine.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, that same feeling of not being told something creeping up. You hate it. You push it back down, swallowing heavily to center yourself. “So I assume you were fine.”

“Yea. Yea. Cat is a good pilot.” 

You hum, the panic still not leaving your chest.

Frankie grabs your hand as you walk. “It happened a lot, I just got used to it.”

“It happened a lot?”

“Yea. I mean, sometimes we were flying through shit climates, sometimes even pursued. Doesn’t make for a smooth ride. I’m just used to it. They always scream bloody murder though.” Frankie smiles softly.

“Oh.”

You go silent, continuing to walk to the next destination: the scrambler. You had already established you would not ride and Dali wanted some funnel cake herself, so she heads off while you stay off to the side with Gabi to watch, lost in your own thoughts.

“Just don’t fucking talk about that, none of that. That never happened.” Frankie seethes to Benny as they are strapped into the ride. 

“Sorry dude, I can’t read your thoughts. I figured she knew.”

“No. I don’t want her to know. No one else needs to know about it.”

Benny falls silent, looking to Will beside him. Pope lowers his head, choosing to say nothing.

“Catfish…you have to.” Says Will.

“No the fuck I don’t. I never want her to know. If she knows…she’ll actually see ‘real me’. ‘Fuck-up me.” And I don't want her to yet. I don’t want to lose her yet. I don’t want her to be afraid. Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

They stop. But only because the ride starts, and they can’t see anything other than blurs.

You hate this feeling, this fluttering in your stomach like something is wrong but your heart knows, it knows it’s fine. It has to be. Your mind is spinning, trying to combat the rising anxiety clenching in your chest, doing gymnastics to find reasons to not be alarmed.

He’s not lying about something. He’s not. …He promised….I’m just overthinking this…

You can’t. You refuse to even think about it. Confronting the terrible possibility that you might’ve done it again, you might have thrown yourself all in to someone only to—-no. 

He’s not lying. He’s not. …He promised….he’s different. I’m just overthinking this…

You can feel butterflies bubbling in your stomach and you feel like you might throw up. Fucking men. You huff in frustration and try to distract yourself with your surroundings, watching people on rides, sharing funnel cake. Your eyes scan over two men staring at you silently by a skewered chicken cart and in your current mood it makes you furious. “What the fuck are you staring at?!” You growl at them. They say nothing and slowly walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Fucking. Men.

You try not to let your emotions show. You sit back while Gabi goes on some rides for her age, using the time to rehydrate and calm yourself down. Living through Gabi’s joy helps.. She’s having a blast, choosing a different person to pair with for each time ride. Pope in the Wacky House, the Helicopters with her dad, Benny on the mini Viking ship. Once you feel better you join in to play bumper cars (Will and Gabi win) and ride the high-rise swings with her seated in the cool metal chair next to you, Benny singing along to the ambient speakers playing “Out of My League” so loud eventually all the other teens on the ride join in.You enjoy the mini coaster more than you thought you would considering it’s for kids Gabi’s age, you and Dali are the only others who can fit in the seats, no matter how hard Benny tried. It was easy to quickly forget.

After the coaster, Gabi begins to slow down, so you hit the fried oreo stand, paying for several batches despite protestation and alternately feeding everyone as the group slowly walks through the agricultural parts of the fair. It’s calmer here, the air warm and quiet. The pathway is less crowded so Gabi is able to frolic around on the walkway in front of you safely. 

You walk through every barn, stopping to pet every animal. She’s a natural with them. Completely fearless, not one flicker of apprehension as she approaches cows and horses that are easily 6 times her height, paying close attention to her dad in how to not spook them. Everyone finds the goats to be the favorite because of the sounds they make. Even more so when Frankie engages in a screaming contest back and forth with a bunch of them until someone shoos them out of the pavilion.

Soon, all the sugar Gabi consumed rears its ugly head in the rabbit barn, she throws a fit when Frankie won’t let her get a pet rabbit and you only just catch her upper arm in time to keep her from collapsing on the filthy barn floor. You’re surprised she held out so long. Even you were crashing and getting tired. Also, the rabbits were ridiculously cute.

“Listen Gabi, how about we ride the ferris wheel? Would you like that?” You kneel before her, swiping the tears off her cheeks as she catches her breath. “It goes really high! Higher than the swings!” She nods, sniffing in a snot bubble as she takes your hand. The two of you lead the way, and as you get closer and closer, you start to regret your decision. 

It’s much taller than the Freak Out. By more than 100 feet. It doesn’t look very stable either.

“Wait...this…this looks kind of high, don’t you think?” You turn to the guys, trying to conceal the wavering in your voice. You were scared enough at 70 feet. This was more like 200.

“Height requirement says she’s fine. And it’s enclosed, goes really slow. Come on.” Frankie takes you by the hand and your heart leaps into your throat, your feet skidding across the lawn as you try to pull back. 

A light shove pushes you forward and you turn to glare at Will as he smirks down at you. “If you don’t go I’m never going to let you hear the end of it. Not after you called us “old and broken down.”

Well shit.

“Fine.”

You’re shaking when it’s your turn, the group mad dashing to three cars next to each other so you could talk throughout. Benny pairs with Pope, Gabi is vibrating with excitement as she’s put into a carriage by Will and Dali, and Frankie is beaming as he motions you towards the left car. He pats your butt as you gingerly step in, waiting until you’re seated before joining you and taking your hand. 

“Babe…are you okay?”

You swallow, grateful it’s dark enough he can’t see you trembling. “Yep. I’m good.” 

He leans forward in his seat, the glowing phosphorescence of the lights of the ride and around the fair bathing him halfway in a multicolored glow. tThe colors and shadows fold into the angles of his face like rainbow chiaroscuro, an angular stained glass window. He takes your hand again, yours is swallowed in his palm and you close your eyes as he rubs his thumb across the top. The dark beat of Depeche Mode pounds against your chest and echoes in your ears and you briefly imagine this is what it must feel like to drop acid.

“Your hands are really sweaty…and you’re breathing really fast. Are you sure you’re okay? Hey…” He squeezes your palm and you open your eyes to meet his. “It’s okay if you’re scared. I won’t joke anymore about it, I’m sorry.”

You swallow. “It’s just really really high.”

Frankie watches the ride operator out of the corner of his eye passing their car as he makes sure everyone is safely locked in before tugging on your arm slightly. You slide forward minutely, he meets you more than halfway with his large limbs and rests his hands on your hips. You gasp as the ride jolts and begins rolling, lifting the cabs up in the air. His calloused fingertip pushes your head back up.

“How about I distract you.” He murmurs, shifting forward one inch more, tilting his neck as his soft pouty lips meet yours. 

You close your eyes, trying to lose your self awareness into him and his mouth and the soft skin of his nose that bumps your cheek and tickles your nose with its little breaths. 

The lift mechanism suddenly shudders, clunking over something and it feels like when you run over a squirrel in your car. You inhale sharply against Frankie’s lips as your cab jostles back and forth. Not much, but enough for you to slam yourself back against your seat and clutch the seat bottom as hard as you can. Your heart beats wildly and you imagine the ride breaking and dropping you on the ground to be crushed to death by this stupid fucking metal cab.

You feel pressure on your knees and look down, focusing hard to not see double from fear. Frankie cups both in his hands, thumbs lightly stroking the inside of your thighs. “It’s okay.” He reassures, squeezing your knees once more. “Probably an under-greased cog, it’s nothing. They test these things like 50 times a day.”

You simply stare, forcing yourself to nod. 

“Close your eyes.”

You open your mouth to argue then close it and obey. You trust Frankie, and it can’t be any worse. 

“Just focus on me. And…you hear the music? It’s called “Enjoy the Silence.” I was obsessed with this song when it came out. And can you hear Benny below us? I can hear Gabi laughing too. We’re all okay, you’re okay too.”

You bite your lips into your mouth, focusing on the song and Frankie’s husky voice. The meditative synth pop calms you, and the carefree voices of your friends below does help calm you, but you can’t slow down your heartbeat. 

“I’m okay. Just too much adrenaline.”

The hands on your knees slide up your bare thighs and wrap around the bottoms of them. Frankie pulls you forward in your seat with a smirk. “I’m feeling a little amped up too.”

“Frankie.”

He doesn’t respond, his sole focus on your thighs as his hands slide up and up and up until he is just able to slip the tip of one of his fingers under one leg of your shorts. For some reason, it pisses you off.

“Frankie!” You hiss. “People could see us.”

“Nah…” He shushes you, his finger sliding lower. 

You clamp your legs shut and push his hand back in his direction. “Frankie, I don’t want to right here.” 

He sits up. “Oh.”

Suddenly you hear Benny’s voice from below. “Hello we are underneath you guys! I don’t want to hear any hooking up sounds!” He trolls, and you fully push Frankie back to his side, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

It’s the first time you can remember that it’s ever been uncomfortably awkward between the two of you, and you’re not sure why. The silence seems so much more noticeable and weird against the clanking of the Ferris wheel gears and the chattering of random other people.

You’re not even looking at each other, you realize. When did that happen? Your neck cranes to the left as you gaze at the stars, and when you turn back towards Frankie, he is looking to the right and down at the fair. 

“…Is everything okay?”

His eyes snap back to yours. “Yea? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Cause I pushed you away, and…I dunno, you’re being weird..”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s not intentional. I’m not upset, c’mere.” He opens his arms wide to you, scooting on his bench so there’s enough room for you.

You hesitate. “Won’t it…won’t it throw off the balance?”

You feel ridiculous asking but he doesn’t laugh at you, just shakes his head slightly. “Nah, they wouldn’t be able to run this ride if people couldn’t sit on the same side.”

You balance awkwardly on the edge of your bench overanalyzing what exact moment during the track of the ride to launch onto his, but you overthink it and end up jostling the cab more than necessary. Frankie’s arms pull you into his side and you burrow your face in his neck as the cab continues to rock. The music fades from Depeche Mode to Lizzo to Lil’ Nas X (Will clearly enjoys that one) and then back to Lizzo, and you forget all about your uneasiness.

He was right. It did feel better being with him. 

The ride does one more pass then rolls to a halt, letting off you with Frankie and Benny with Santiago. You hover at the exit for Will and Gabi, who have to wait for their cab to reach the platform before dismounting. Frankie takes your hand as you wait.

Gabby’s adrenaline rush runs out fast, and you spend the remainder of the fair eating more fried Oreos and playing games. Somehow you manage to beat them all at the water shooting game, which amps up the competitiveness to the point you’d rather just watch.

Which is how you end up at the “star” game. 

“We’re so fucking good at this game, it pisses them off every time.” Laughs Benny, as he shoots the entire Star out perfectly with the gun that is specifically not given enough ammo to achieve this. You hop up on the far side of the counter to watch, noting the way each of you boys handles their weapon and the differences in each. Benny held his gun loosely, like he was relaxed and self assured. It almost seemed like you would be able to slap it out of his hands but you knew he still had an iron grip. Will was precise and, as you expected, “perfect form”. You could tell just from Pope’s posture change that he was the best shot on the team, you’d never seen him look so focused. Frankie held his with a tense white knuckle grip, the folding stock tucked against his shoulder joint. The tension carrying up his arms as his veins popped out in his forearms and biceps. He looked fucking good. And you wouldn’t consider yourself a “gun person.” In fact, you kind of hated them. But there just was something about a strong non-douchey man holding a rifle like that that activated you. Damn the patriarchy. Even Dali is a great shot, though not as good as the guys.

After a few rounds, the carnie finally stopped allowing your posse to keep playing, frustrated that somehow the rigging system didn’t work on your group. You lean back on your hands, your legs swinging against the wood counter, observing Benny arguing with the carnie with a smirk. Gabi is passed out in her stroller next to you as Frankie sidles up to you, feeding you a piece of Fried Reeses, then promptly kissing you so the taste floats between you. 

He hums deeply, stepping closer to you til he’s between your legs. His hands rest low on the top of your thighs. “This ok?”

You smile. “Yes. More than okay. And I want more.” 

Frankie beams and cups your face, his lips crashing into yours as he all but breathes you in. You tilt your head and poke his mouth with your tongue. He responds immediately and opens for you, meeting you halfway. You whine softly as his hands leave your cheeks and trail down your back, one hand sneaking a bit lower to discreetly cup your ass. You’ve just wound your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck when you hear a shrill voice cut through the din of the dwindling crowd.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your heart slams to a halt so fast it hurts. You recognize that voice. And so does Frankie. Your heads both snap to the left as a disheveled looking Lex stands there with a bunch of her friends.

Frankie simply stares. She repeats herself. “Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. The BABYSITTER? Are you fucking your BABYSITTER??? Oh Frankie…come on…how pathetic can you be? She’s like a child!”

You look at Frankie, receding into himself like a silent, terrified puppy. You’ve never seen him like this before, it unnerves you.

“Excuse me.” You snap back. “I am 28.”

She scoffs. I fucking knew something was going on with you two. And you’re doing this in front of my child?”

“Well, actually, Gabi is sleeping. At least she was, until you came ranting and raving.” You make eye contact with Pope, who reads your perfectly and starts steering Gabi’s stroller away so she can’t hear. “We made sure to be careful for her but why do you even care if we are fucking? You left him! You didn’t want him anymore, so it shouldn’t fucking matter who he dates.” 

“He’s a drug addict and a pathological liar. He will NEVER change.”

“Yea? And you are a drunk, controlling, OCD bitch who can’t mind her own fucking business. He’s happy with me. I trust him. Unlike you. Bye.” You couldn’t help yourself, you just fucking hated her.

But that set her off. “Did he tell you why he was suspended?”

“Yes, he—“

“Did he tell you he was high, flying a family and he almost injured everyone from a sloppy landing? Did he tell you how he would take Gabi to his drug dealers house with him? How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper? That I deliberately asked him not to because we had a new baby? That he crashed their helicopter, dropped all their money and shot innocent villagers to keep them from getting it? At children and old men adn women? That because of that, Molly’s husband was shot in the fucking head by one of those people? And then they couldn’t even bring the money back so it was all for no reason?”

She’s shouting now, spittle flying from her inebriated lips. One of her friends tries to grab her arm but she shakes them off. People in the crowd are starting to stop and watch. “Then, THEN, he treated me like shit, saying horrible things to me just when he was mad, throwing things, scaring me!”

You feel like you can’t breathe, it’s too much information all at once. “...What? I don’t…No. no, he said he was on a delta mission–”

“Oh sweetheart,” She sneers condescendingly. “He was on a greed mission. He was retired from delta. This was like a year ago. They all wanted to get rich and robbed a fucking drug kingpin and Frankie shot innocent people to make sure he got alllllll that money. And because of that, his friend was shot and killed and his family has NO idea why. He lied to you.”

You turn to look at him, and all his friends. Everyone is silent, trying not to look up from the ground. Dali looks as bewildered as you. “Frankie…?” Tears water in your eyes and you feel like your heart is going to burst. You thought he told you it was an enlisted mission, but on top of everything else you just learned your thoughts are rushing so fast you can’t seem to remember specifics. 

Frankie can’t even look at you. And that’s how you know. 

It’s true…

“Lex. Stop.” Will’s Southern drawl cuts through the silence, the commanding officer in him coming out. “It’s over. This shit between you two has to stop. Enough.” His eyes shift to Lex’s friends, who are nodding and repeating the same thing. Lex finally allows them to pull her away muttering under her breath, sending one last glare in your direction.

The walk to the truck is silent. The ride home is a foggy blur. But the minute you step into the house, you crack. 

“Frankie please tell me all this is not true.” You can’t read him at all, his face is completely blank as he moves around you towards Gabi’s bedroom to tuck her in.

So you wait.

His hackles are already up when he comes back out.

“Frankie–”

“Yea.”

“Well?”

“Yea. It’s true. We tried to steal money from one of Pope’s cases and it backfired and Tom got shot.”

“Because of you.”

His expression changes then, from blank nothing to vicious defensive anger. “Yea. Because of me. I fucked up the flight back and we crash landed and these fuckin’ villagers were gonna take the money! And it was an accident!”

“You ‘accidentally’ shot innocent people?”

He swallows, his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see he’s doing mental gymnastics in order to avoid accountability. 

“Did your finger slip?”

No answer. 

“Frankie. Did your finger slip on the trigger?”

You already know the answer before he says it. And somehow it’s like he morphs into a Disney villain as he says it. “No. My finger didn’t slip.”

It burns, the sharp pain in your heart that makes you feel like it’s having a seizure or forgot how to pump blood or is pumping too much blood. “How many people did you kill.”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?! Frankie, you told me this was your job! You- you fucking lied to me! I-I I asked you if you were hiding anything else from me and you fucking lied to me!” You can’t help your voice raising, the tears spilling out of your eyes as you realize how fucking stupid you had been. Somewhere in the background you can hear Gabi has woken and is hysterically crying. Frankie, clearly having enough, turns back towards her room. But you continue, screaming at his back. “And that’s why Tom is dead? And his family doesn’t know why?!”

Frankie doesn’t answer and suddenly you are enraged. You run behind him and shove him forward. “I’m fucking talking to you! How can you just be so fucking blase about this??? And…all that other shit???—I feel like I don’t know you at all!”

He whirls around, that furious murderous face you ‘ve seen him give others is finally directed at you. “Because you don’t!” He screams back, his teeth nash and he shoves a finger one inch from  your face. You flinch.

“Frankie, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you? Really? I thought this was your thing?” 

You blink, confused, tears stalling on your face. “Don’t–”  You plead softly.

“No, Lex is right. You’re a naive little girl who thinks she can save worthless idiots like me and live some fucking fantasy happily ever after. You won’t. You can’t. I’m unfixable.”

“How can you say that!! Frankie, I love you!

He scoffs. “I know you think you do. And I know you aren’t stupid, you told me you’ve done this before. But guess what sweetie, you aren’t better, you’re still doing it because you’re so fucking desperate for someone to love you. You don’t love me. You just want to feel like some fucking savior.”

“No! No… I didn’t, I don’t…you told me you loved me!”

“I wanted to fuck you.” His eyes are black as far, it’s like you don’t even recognize his face anymore. Lex was right. Lex was right. How…did you make all of it up in your head?

“You…You’re a fucking psycho…I feel like you emotionally manipulated me into caring for you only for you to play games with me! I specifically told you I couldn’t go through this again and you fucking did it anyway!”

“Hey, you kissed me. And you were fun to fuck, I will admit that. Let me do fucking anything. But we both knew this would happen. You set yourself up. I did shoot those villagers. I caused Tom’s death. I just wanted the fucking money. And I wanted to kill a bunch of kids too, when they got in my way. Fuckin’ teenagers and I told Pope to fucking shoot them all.  And you know what else? We went back and got all that fucking money we hid, and we are fucking swimming in it. And I didn’t share a goddamn dime with my ex. You’re right. I am a psycho, so it’s a good thing this is over. Pack your shit and leave me alone.”

“Fuck you Frankie.”

You don’t wait another moment. You don’t need to be asked twice this time. You shove him aside on your way down the hallway, doing everything you can not to let the second round of tears fall. He’d seen enough.

You slam the door of the master bedroom behind you, frantically bouncing around different points in the room to grab all your shit. When did all of this stuff even get here? Anxiety bubbles up your chest until you can’t take it anymore and say fuck it, he can just throw anything else out. I have to get out of here.

You rush back down the hallway like a speed demon, praying to whatever that he won’t be standing in the hallway still. He isn’t. He’s sitting on his couch facing away from you, his head in his hands. You hate yourself for wanting to go comfort him. He’s right…I’m

not better…

You pause on the front doorway, struggling to say what needs to be said. Don’t be weak. Don’t keep letting people do this to you over and over. “Don’t contact me.I never want to see you again.” You say to his back.

He doesn’t move a muscle, or even look at you. “You won’t.”

You were able to make it halfway across the lawn before the grief fully hit. By the time you got to your car you were gasping like you were no longer able to breathe. And the minute your car door shut you broke, a wailing sob bursting from your lips as you bury your face in your palms. 

Again. It happened again. And it’s just as crushing as every other time, except now it feels like you never healed from the others and now they are all piling on top of the other with this one as the final blow.

Why. WHY? Was there something wrong with you? Why were you never enough? Why couldn’t you make them stay? What did you do to keep having to go through this? It almost killed you last time, your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the look on your parents face as they watched you writhe on your bed screaming and crying hysterically from your latest breakup.

And why did you let yourself fall into it again, like you had never learned a goddamn thing. It was like you were masochistic, you told yourself you would never need someone again so badly, you wouldn’t enmesh yourself so fully that when it fell apart you could barely function. Your heart was once again ripped out of your chest and thrown to the floor, the cracks from before making this shattering into pieces so small you know it can’t get repaired again.

With a trembling whimper, you pull your face out of your hands and wipe your eyes, your nose. You realize you’re still sitting in Frankie’s driveway and you immediately look to see if he's at the window, concerned for you. He isn’t. You hate yourself for it but it breaks you even more. 

It’s over.

You drive home mindlessly, your Spotify on shuffle and you aren’t aware of anything else. Just get home. Just get home and then you can cry, try to move on. But you already know you won’t. 

You finally tire yourself out of tears, and you try to talk yourself up, turning up the music and chanting “it’s okay” to yourself. 

It’s Coldplay. You always liked Coldplay. 

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try, you'll never know

Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you…

Tears stream down your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face, and I–

You slam the on/off button so hard you actually cause the auxiliary cord to malfunction, so you rip it out of your phone and throw the damn thing on the passenger seat. You drive home in silence.

It’s dark in the lot when you arrive. You park in a spot along the side and towards the back because the lot is mostly full. The only light shining is the pole yards away, the bulb switches off and on opposite of the dark one right above you. 

You feel numb. You can still feel sticky dried tears on your face, but your ability to utter a sound is gone. You close your eyes and try to compose yourself, simply sitting in your car in the dark. You’re avoiding going upstairs, you know. You’ve pretty much been living at Frankie’s. Walking through that door would make it feel too ‘official’. You cover your face with your hands and rub the tears tracks off your raw face, and are about to take a breath and gather your shit when a THWACKING sound bursts right in your left ear.

You startle with a yelp and look out your window, prepared to tell off whoever is messing with you, but freeze when you find yourself face to face with the barrel of a gun, the only thing separating you from it is the shitty window glass on your cheap car.

»»———————►

Post A/N: Don't yell at me lol

[whispers-of-masser]

:3c

I am here to request something a lil angsty.... Dear nebarra being injured and ldb tries to take care of him

Wounds and Warmth

✧ Nebarra x LDB ✧ Angst; 830 words ♫ "Stubborn" - RIELL, "Gravedigger" - Adam Jensen ✒ I'm so so sorry this took so long Dali, I'm still not happy with it but it's all I got, I hope it's okay enough

Nebarra didn't like lizards. He never had, and probably never would – especially not after today. Being sent flying from a single sweep of a dragon's tail had seen to that.

Of course, the creature just had to attack when it was when it was foggy and raining. In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but woodland and ruins. All Nebarra could see of it were the flames it spewed; by the time he saw the tail, it was too late.

The spiked appendage had shattered his ward in a heartbeat, flung him away like a child's rag doll and into a crumbling stone wall. Though it had only been a glancing blow, it had still been equivalent to one of your gods-damned shouts, possibly stronger. If the beast had hit him full-force, Nebarra would have been utterly shattered, armour and bones splintered, pieces of him scattered across the earth.

As it was, however, the only things that had shattered were his pride, a couple of ribs... and his potions.

Again.

Honestly, he'd never live this down. It was as if history was repeating itself, circling back to the day you found him, saved him.

It was humiliating, infuriating.

Even more so when he found he couldn't stand, his limbs numb, ribs screaming in protest at his attempts. He... he couldn't guard you, now.

But you didn't seem to need him. A minute later, the ground shook, powerful wingbeats whipping the rain into a frenzy all around. There was a roar, a gout of fire in the sky – and in its light, he could just make out the form of the dragon retreating to the skies, flying away to the eastern crags.

...Coward.

Once it was out of sight, you rushed to Nebarra's side, tugging off your helm and dropping to a knee beside him. "Nebarra!" You had to shout to be heard over the rain. "Are you alright?"

"Think I cracked some ribs," he coughed, but not loud enough – you only frowned in confusion, tapped your ears.

Nebarra didn't have the breath to speak any louder; instead, he managed a shake of his head and a gesture to his ribs. You seemed to contemplate for a moment, then shouted, "Let's get you to shelter, first. Come on, I'll help you."

...Help him?

He stared at your outstretched hand, something bitter churning in his gut. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he took it, groaning in pain as you helped him to his feet.

It was a brief but agonizing walk into the ruins; you led him to one of the towers that seemed a little more intact than the others, its door still on its hinges, the wood only half-rotted.

Nebarra pulled away from you the moment he was inside, stumbling over to the wall – and promptly sinking to the floor, hissing in pain. As the rain thundered outside in a muted roar, you followed him, fumbling with your bag.

"I'm out of potions, damnit... I know some basic Restoration skills though, so–"

"No."

You froze. "What?"

"I said, no," he snarled.

"...Why? Nebarra, did you hit your head or something?"

You reached out towards him, but he batted your hand away, growling, "I don't need help." His teeth were bared and gritted behind his helm. "And I don't want it. Especially – especially not from you."

He couldn't stand for you to see him like this.

But the pain had clouded his mind, muddled his judgement, and his words were poorly chosen, bringing a horrible expression to your face – hurt.

It morphed quickly into anger, your lips curling in a snarl, brows angling sharply downwards. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise your own gods-damned pride could heal you better than I ever could. I'll just leave you to it then – but wait, that's right, it can't." You slammed your fist against the wall just beside his head, golden light haloed around it. "So take your pick, Nebarra. You can sit here like a fool with nothing but your pain and your pride, hoping it doesn't kill you, or you can let me help you."

He stared. "...Why? Why do you keep helping me?"

"I don't know! Maybe because I'm as much a fool as you – for you."

There was no way he'd just heard you correctly. The pain was making him delirious, the pounding rain outside echoing in his head, distorting his hearing. But your face... your eyes...

Something burned in them. It made him feel... feel...

"...Alright," he hissed. "Fine. Do it, quick. But so help me, if you mess anything up–"

"Just shut up," you snapped, raising your other hand, magic flickering to life in your palm, "and lie still."

And as the magic poured around Nebarra, he tried to tell himself it was the cause of the warmth he suddenly felt. Not... not you, your determined persistence in caring about him, of all people. Not any feelings that gave him.

It was just... the magic.

[all-asian-drama]

Please help me complete my mega ❤️ROMANCE❤️ drama list below!

Let me know if something has a sad (😢), happy (😊), bittersweet (🥹), or open (🤔) ending! Or feel free to add dramas

😊 - Happy Ending

🥹 - Bittersweet Ending

😢 - Sad Ending

🤔- Open Ending

Wuxia / Xianxia

- [ ] A Camellia Romance

- [ ] A Pamiliar Stranger

- [ ] A Step into the Past

- [ ] Ancient Poetry

- [ ] Ashes of Love

- [ ] Assassin Academy

- [x] Back From the Brink

- [ ] Be My Cat

- [ ] Beauty of Resilience

- [x] Believe in Love

- [ ] Blood of Youth

- [ ] Bloody Romance 😢

- [ ] Blooms At Ruyi Pavilion

- [ ] Buried City to Shut all

- [ ] Catch up My Prince

- [ ] Chef Hue

- [ ] Childe Xle's Wine

- [ ] Choice Husband

- [ ] Cinderella Chef

- [ ] Colourful Bone 😢

- [ ] Cry Me a River of Stars

- [ ] Dance of Phoenix

- [ ] Dance of Sky Empire

- [ ] Demi Gods & Semi Devils

- [ ] Destiny of the White Snake 😢

- [ ] Devastating Beauty 😢

- [ ] Duoluo Continent

- [ ] Eternal Love

- [ ] Eternal Love Rain

- [ ] Eternal Love of Dream

- [ ] Fake Phoenixes

- [ ] Fake Princess!

- [ ] Fighter of the Destiny

- [ ] Follow my Dear General

- [ ] For Married Doctress 😢

- [ ] Four Daughter from Luoyang

- [ ] Good and Evil 😢

- [ ] Handsome Siblings

- [ ] Heart of Loyalty

- [ ] Heavenly Sword & Dragon

- [ ] Heroes

- [ ] Hold on my Lady

- [ ] I'm a Pet at Dali Temple

- [ ] I've Fallen For You

- [x] Immortal Samsara 😊

- [ ] Investiture of the Gods

- [ ] Journey of Chong Zi

- [ ] King is Not Easy

- [ ] Lady in The Butcher's House

- [ ] Legend of Awakening 😢

- [ ] Legend of Condor

- [ ] Legend of Fuyao

- [ ] Legend of Lin Ye

- [ ] Legend of Phoenix

- [ ] Legend of Xiao Chuo

- [ ] Legend of Yunxi 😢

- [ ] Legend of Zu

- [ ] Legends

- [ ] Letter from cloud

- [ ] Life of a White Fox

- [ ] Lights

- [ ] Listening Snow Tower

- [ ] Love Behind the Melody

- [x] Love Better Than Immortality 😊

- [x] Love Between Fairy and Devil 😊

- [ ] Love By Hypnotic

- [ ] Love a Lifetime

- [x] Love and Redemption 😊

- [ ] Love for Two Lives

- [ ] Love is All

- [ ] Love is more than a word

- [ ] Mald Escort

- [ ] Ming Dynasty 😢

- [ ] Mirror: Tale of Twin Cities 😢

- [ ] Miss Truth

- [ ] Miss the Dragon

- [ ] My Lucky Princess

- [ ] My Poison Lover

- [ ] My Sassy Princess

- [ ] My Villain Husband

- [ ] New Proud Smiling Wanderer

- [ ] Nirvana in Fire

- [ ] Novoland: Bagle Flag

- [ ] Novoland: Castle in Sky 😢

- [ ] Novoland: Pearl Eclipse 😢

- [ ] Oh My General 😊

- [ ] Oh my Lord!

- [ ] One and Only 😢

- [ ] Order of the Sommelier

- [ ] Princess Agents

- [ ] Princess Agents 😢

- [ ] Princess Silver

- [ ] Queen of Attack

- [ ] Rewriting Destiny

- [ ] Royal Rumours

- [ ] Sassy Beauty

- [ ] Side Story fox Volant

- [ ] Slaying Sabre

- [ ] Song of Glory

- [ ] Song of Youth

- [ ] Song of the Moon

- [ ] Stand By Me

- [ ] Sword Dynasty

- [ ] The Blue Whisper

- [ ] The Flame's Daughter

- [ ] The Great Ruler

- [ ] The Immortal Prince

- [ ] The Joy of Life 😢

- [ ] The Journey 😢

- [ ] The King of Blaze 😢

- [x] The Long Ballad

- [ ] The Lost Promise

- [ ] The Rebel Princess

- [x] The Starry Love 🤔

- [ ] The Sword and the Brocade

- [ ] The Taoism Grandmaster 😢

- [ ] The Wolf 😢

- [x] Till the End of the Moon 🥹

- [ ] Tribes & Empires

- [ ] Truth of Immortality

- [ ] Truth or Dare

- [ ] Twisted Fate of Love

- [ ] Unique Lady

- [ ] Warm on a Cold Night

- [ ] Weaving a Tale of Love Mengfel Comes Across

- [ ] Who Rules the World

- [ ] Word of Honor

- [ ] World of Fantasy

- [ ] Wulin Heros

- [ ] XuanYuan Sword:han Cloud

Historical

- [ ] A Girl Like Me

- [x] Believe in Love 😊

- [ ] Choice Husband

- [ ] Destiny of Love

- [ ] General & I

- [x] General’s Lady 😊

- [ ] Goodbye My Princess 😢

- [ ] Heart of Loyalty

- [ ] I'm a Pet At Dali Temple

- [ ] Jiu Liu Overlord

- [ ] King’s Woman 😢

- [x] Love Between Tiger and Rose 😊

- [x] Love Like the Galaxy 😊

- [ ] Love and Destiny

- [ ] Maiden Holmes

- [x] New Life Begins 😊

- [ ] Promise of Changan 😢

- [ ] Qing Luo

- [ ] Royal Rumors

- [ ] The Romance of Hua Rong

- [ ] Unchained Love

- [ ] Untouchable Lovers

Modern

- [ ] A Love So Beautiful

- [ ] A River Runs Through It

- [ ] A Romance of the Little Forest

- [ ] Accidentally in love

- [ ] Boss and Me

- [ ] Crush

- [ ] Fall in Love

- [ ] Falling Into Your Smile

- [ ] Feel at Ease Mr. Ling

- [ ] Flourish in Time

- [ ] GO Into Your Heart

- [ ] Gank Your Heart

- [x] Go Ahead 😊

- [ ] Go Go Squid 2

- [ ] Hi Venus

- [ ] Lie to Love

- [ ] Lighter and Princess

- [ ] Love O2O

- [ ] Love Scenery

- [x] Love is Sweet 😊

- [ ] Make My Heart Smile

- [ ] Memory of Encaustic Life

- [ ] Miss Crow with Mr. Lizard

- [ ] Moonlight

- [ ] My Lethal Man

- [ ] My Little Happiness

- [ ] My Unicorn Girl

- [ ] Nothing But You

- [ ] Oath of Love

- [ ] Once We Get Married

- [ ] Our Secret

- [ ] Perfect and Casual

- [ ] Put Your Head On My Shoulder

- [ ] She and Her Perfect Husband

- [ ] Skate Into Love

- [ ] South Wind Knows My Name

- [ ] The Big Boss

- [ ] The Brightest Star in the Sky

- [ ] The Day of Becoming You

- [ ] The Love You Give Me

- [ ] The Whirlwind Girl 😢

- [ ] The Youth Memory

- [ ] Timeless Love

- [ ] Unrequited Love

- [ ] When We Were Young

- [ ] You Are My Glory

- [x] You Are My Hero 😊

- [ ] You are my Destiny

Modern Supernatural

- [ ] Love Under The Full Moon 😢

- [ ] My Girlfriend is an Alien

- [x] Mr. Bad

[blonde4only2months]

Science group 2 reporting Effects if Electromagnetic Radiation Most of the technology used today emit electromagnetic radiation. These radiations can penetrate the human body and the environment Electromagnetic Radiation and Life The energy of an electromagnetic radiation is dependent on its frequency, the higher the frequency, the greater the energy of the radiation E=hf where E is the energy of an electromagnetic wave, f is the frequency related to the electromagnetic wave, and h is the Planck’s Constant which is equal to 6.63×10 ⁻ ³ ⁴ J.s Electromagnetic radiation may be ionizing or non-ionizing Ionizing Radiation ⁃ process of removing electrons from neutral atoms ⁃ Exposure to high-level ionizing radiation may cause either an immediate effect or a delayed effect ⁃ •immediate effect can be death or radiation burns, it can also produce molecular changes, delayed effects can be cancer or mutation if radiation hits the cells of the body it can damage or kill the cells, the amount of energy that the body absorbs from this radiation is called radiation dose (if nasobraan sa radiation dose daghan sells mamatay na naay immediate effect which is death if only a part of the body nasobraan sa radiation dose it could lead to delayed effects ang cells pwede ma repair balik sa iyang healthy form pero pwede pud ni mamali ug repair which can cause cancer) ⁃ includes X-rays and Gamma rays when our bodies absorb the energy from radiation were being exposed to radiation pero if mag palayo sa source of radiation the exposure stops like in an x ray you are exposed to radiation pero if mag hawa na ka sa x ray dli ka ma contaminated pero if the radiation is in our skin hair and clothes u can be contaminated pero dali lang ni mawala after maligo pero if the radiation is already in our internal organs from needles or inhaling mas lisod siya iremove) Non-ionizing radiation ⁃ less dangerous than ionizing radiation but it doesn’t mean na dli ni maka affect sa atong health it still poses health risks, unlike sa ionizing radiation ⁃ does not have enough energy to remove an electron from an atom or molecule if sa ionizing radiation naa ang x rays and gamma rays ang the rest na forms of electromagnetic waves naa sa non ionizing radiation ⁃ includes radio waves, microwaves, infrared waves, visible light, and uv rays ⁃ •radio waves can interfere with a pacemaker(ang pacemaker kay medical device na naga use ug electrical pulses to help regulate the beating of the heart), overexposure to microwaves is known to cause cataracts(or the clouding of the lens of the eye), excessive exposure to visible light can cause eye damage(sa mga flash sa camera diba after ana kay murag ga black imong pananaw parehas aning lights nato mga seconds ra mag stare ta try daw ninyo diba after ana kay murag naa pa ang shadow sa light ), prolonged exposure to UV rays burns the skin( it causes the skin to tan or become darker it could also cause skin cancer it could also damage the retina)

[words-writ-in-starlight]

okay, i'm taking that as an invitation: PLEASE post your annotations for the kencyrath playlist?

OKAY SURE TWIST MY ARM I GUESS

Actually this playlist is...long as hell, BUT there’s only like twelve people in this fandom and I’m in a group chat with half of them, so everything is here but it’s got a cut for length because my annotations are Specific.

THE BASICS (in no particular order)

Can’t Cheat Death by the Ballroom Thieves, for Jame, no further comment, I am Correct

I spilled blood in the water Then let the storm roll in I put my hands in the fire Watched my welcome wear thin Salt in my wounds and spit in my eye I burned the path you walk on And I let none survive

Thistles and Weeds by Mumford & Sons, for Torisen, who is a good leader and also falling apart

Spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind

Hey Brother by Avicii, for Jame and Tori, in all ways

Hey brother, do you still believe in one another? Hey sister, do you still believe in love, I wonder? Oh, if the sky comes falling down For you, there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Human by Rag’n’Bone Man, for Kindrie Soul-walker, out of his depth and doing his best

Maybe I'm foolish, maybe I'm blind Thinking I can see through this and see what's behind Got no way to prove it, so maybe I'm lying

Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh Hellos, for the Tyr-ridan (I have considered learning to draw SPECIFICALLY to do a comic of this song featuring Jame as the soldier, Kindrie as the poet, and Tori as the king, but I couldn’t pick a verse because it’s not a very long song)

Home to Me by Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, for Jame and Tori, which I would ALSO do a line-by-line breakdown of as a duet, because I love it for them

(Tori) How dare you love me like you've never known fear When you've got more troubles than minutes in the year (Jame) And a voice like your father's tells you nothing good's for free Well that may be, but you're walking home to me

Dear Wormwood by the Oh Hellos, the ORIGINAL Bane/Jame song, for which I could easily do a line-by-line breakdown cast as a duet between them, the song that I, personally, would set over their last conversation before Bane’s death and over Jame’s flight from the palace, if I was making a TV series, just, you know, if anyone wants to kick me a couple million bucks

I know who I am now And all that you've made of me I know who you are now And I name you my enemy

Glitter & Gold by Barns Courtney, for the Kendar, survivors to the last

Do you walk in the valley of kings? Do you walk in the shadow of men Who sold their lives to a dream? Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark?

Delilah by Florence + the Machine, for Jamethiel Dreamweaver, the first unfallen darkling, the finest weapon and cruelest victim of the Master’s schemes, and for her daughter, who saw more and ran faster

Too fast for freedom Sometimes it all falls down These chains never leave me I keep dragging them around

We Have It All by Pim Stones, for Tyrandis, just...listen to it, I’m right

There's glory ahead, but our love will be forgotten If my heart was still mine, I would go to the bottom And apologise to you until the day it went rotten

Mercy Down by Shayfer James, which is THE definitive song for the entire Kencyrath--half-desperate for their missing destiny, half-terrified of that destiny when it shows up at their door.

It’s getting mythical now You better pick your weapons up And throw your mercy, throw your mercy down

THE EXTENDED STUFF (loosely sorted by topic)

Control by Halsey, for Jame, heir to the Dreamweaver, Snare-of-Souls, and learning to dance and running away

They sent me away to find them a fortune A chest filled with diamonds and gold The house was awake, with shadows and monsters The hallways, they echoed and groaned

Little Boy by Barns Courtney, for Torisen holding the bones of a little girl who died at the same age as his long lost twin sister

Little boy inside my chest Breathe some life into my bones I've been lost and wandering Down and out and missing home

The Draw by Bastille, for Torisen and the shade of Ganth and the promise of madness on a sleepless night

Don't listen to your friends See the despair behind their eyes Don't listen to your friends They only care and want to know why

Carry Your Throne by Jon Bellion, for Jame and Tori at their best, kissing in the ashfall and dancing in Tentir

Two crowns and a gold cup And they're coming for the throne, love But if your heart is a dog fight Then I'm ready to go to war like

Coming Down by Halsey, for Jame and the twin she loves, who is always, always running away from her

Every single night pray the sun will rise Every single time make a compromise Every single night pray the sun will rise, but It's coming down, down, coming down

Graveyard by Halsey, for Jame and Tori and dreams and the soulscape and running and chasing and trying

I keep running when both my feet hurt I won't stop 'til I get where you are Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads I woulda followed all the way to the graveyard

Thick as Thieves by Shinedown, for Jame and Tori, who can barely have a civil conversation but still manage to be each other’s answer to the concept of ‘home’

Evidently, we can't work it out I guess that courage ain't allowed Evidently, you're not in the mood And everything I say just bothers you

The Horror of Our Love by Ludo, for Bane and Jame, and blood and binding, and shadows crossing continents

I'm a killer, cold and wrathful Silent sleeper, I've been inside your bedroom I've murdered half the town Left you love notes on their headstones I'll fill the graveyards until I have you

Irresistible by Fall Out Boy, for Bane in Tai-tastigon, a prince of the city and a monster in his beloved’s kitchen

Too many war wounds and not enough wars Too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores Too many sharks, not enough blood in the waves You know I give my love a four letter name

Hellfire by Barns Courtney, for Bane, giving your soul to the wrong person, and the Lower Town

Run in an alleyway Through a dead end street Murdering promises That I just can't keep

Punch Drunk Grinning Soul by Flogging Molly, for all the Kendar who keep surviving disasters while their people fall all around them, and especially for Marc and Brier

But these tired eyes are crashing down on me While the paint never dries on these four walls that now suffocate me But tonight, maybe tonight all will be free

Sleepsong by Bastille, for soulscapes and locked doors and armor and hidden gardens and a whole race with a collective unconscious who still manage to be awfully lonely

Oh, in the strangest dreams, walking by your side It is the hole you impose upon your life When you're out, loneliness, it crawls up in the ground It's what you feel, but can't articulate out loud

Bad Decisions by Bastille, for Tentir and all the children there who thought they were immortal

Do you remember what you said to me? 'Cause we lost track of time Yeah, we lost track of time You always let me down so tenderly So live fast and die young and stay forever numb 

For The Departed by Shayfer James, for every Kendar who’s ever sold a soul, broken under Honor’s Paradox, died in service, and gone unremembered

So dry your eyes and count to ten They'll have me on the pyre by then Forget the man I used to be You'll move along more easily

Bones by MS MR, for death banners, and for the dead of Kithorn, and for Dalis-sar, depending on my mood

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone Let her find a way to a better place Broken dreams and silent screams Empty churches with soulless curses We found a way to escape the day

I Am Stretched On Your Grave by Dead Can Dance, for sisterkin, for the massacre of the Knorth women, but especially for Brenwyr and her ghost and her maledight madness

Calling out to the air With tears both hot and wild Oh I grieve for the girl That I loved as a child

NFWMB by Hozier, for Brenwyr and Aerulan (and could be for Jame and Tori but he’s, you know, an ostrich with his head buried in his own trauma)

Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay? Ain't you my baby, ain't you my baby?

Church by Fall Out Boy, for everyone who’s ever fallen in love with Jame, from Dally to Torisen

Oh, the things that you do in the Name of what you love You are doomed but just enough

Renegades by X Ambassadors, for the good times in Tai-tastigon with Dally and Canden

It's our time to make a move It's our time to make amends It's our time to break the rules Let's begin

Breath of Life by Florence + the Machine, for everyone who’s ever fallen to the Knorth glamour and paid dearly for it

But I needed one more touch Another taste of heavenly rush And I believe, I believe it's so

[thecoleopterawithana]

And after dinner and a couple of drinks, we wandered downstairs, where the whole place was just full of Magrittes. I was in seventh heaven. [Alexandra Iolas] was Magritte's agent and I had my pick of Aladdin's cave. Now being a sensible lad, I only chose two oils. They were about 30 x 40, decent-size pictures, the most expensive of which was £3,000.   I bought a big oil called Gloria, which was an upturned carp. When you look sideways at it it looks like a big hooded figure with one eye but when you look the other way at it it's a carp, it's a fish, in the shadows inside a castle keep and outside is the sky and clouds where we all want to be. I bought another, called The Countess of Monte Cristo, which is a painting showing a painted bottle alongside two ordinary wine bottles, very Magritte, very Surrealist. I didn't know he painted actual bottles themselves till much later so I thought this was just a joke, the girl is on the bottle. A bottle came up at a studio sale. Paul Simon bought one, I know because I've visited him and seen it.   I wish I'd bought more now but the ones I got were very good. And then over the years I've started to get this and that. It was lovely, lovely to be able to look through them all and looking back I remember I saw Ceci n'est pas une pipe (This Is Not a Pipe), one of the new series, which I nearly bought. I liked that a lot. It was the first time I'd heard of it. I liked the whole idea, 'This is not a pipe.' 'Why?' 'It's a painting of a pipe.' 'Oh yes, of course!' That's one of the big things I got from him.   My view now is that he was probably the greatest of the Surrealists. At the time I thought he was damn good but that there were more important Surrealists, but now I don't think there are. Who is there? De Chirico? Dali? I personally don't like their stuff quite as much. Of course we were very into all the legends: how Magritte painted from nine until one and then had his lunch. Robert went to see him with Michael Cooper, and the greatest photograph of Michael Cooper's is of the bell push. It just says 'R. Magritte

Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

René Magritte (1898-1967), La Comtesse de Monte Cristo, from Aube à l'Antipode. Etching, on Richard de Bas paper, signed in pencil, numbered 24/77.

René Magritte (1898-1967), Femme-Bouteille, painted circa 1941. Oil on glass bottle.

René Magritte (1898-1967), La trahison des images (Ceci n'est pas une pipe), painted in Belgium, 1929. Oil on canvas.

[lorirwritesfanfic]

From Lovers To Something Else - Part 2

Author's note: Special thanks to @missameliep​ for beta reading another part of this chapter. Yes, there are more. Brace yourselves. [All characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios] Book: Desire & Decorum (modern-day AU) Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Daphne) / Briar Daly x Edmund Marlcaster Rating: M  Word count: 3054 Summary: Daphne begins to understand distance isn’t the biggest problem in her relationship. 

Early May 2018

As the passengers began to disembark from the flight coming from Cordonia, Daphne rushed to the gate, excusing herself to pass through the crowd. Chewing on her nail, she glanced from the departures board to the arrival gate, her patience slowly running out, allowing worry to cloud her judgments. Ernest's last visit was quite brief and he spent most of the spare time with his mother and they only had lunch or walks in the park between meetings a couple of times. He still seemed passionate during calls, but somehow she could shake away the feeling that something wasn't right.

Just then, her eyes sparkled with joy. Wearing a charcoal coat over a blue and white striped cardigan, a white shirt, and black trousers, Ernest walked down the passageway carrying his luggage, a timid smile forming on his lips and an eyebrow raised as he spotted her. She beamed, heartbeat racing inside her chest at each step he took into her direction and her body relaxed as his arms locked around her waist, reveling in the scent of his cologne. "I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you too," he replied, then pulled away to look at her. "New clothes?"

"Uh... Not exactly," she simpered, shoving her hands inside her oversized sweatshirt. "I'll explain later."

The young couple ambled to the airport exit, where Edgewater SUV waited for them, but before they reached the sidewalk, flashes and paparazzi chanting her name stopped them on their tracks.

"Crap," she mumbled and turned away.

"Excuse me?" Ernest furrowed his brows in confusion but followed her.

"Sorry, uh..." she scratched her head. "Go ahead and take the car. Tell Jonah to go to the airport staff exit and wait for me there."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I'll explain in the car, okay?" Daphne rose on her toes to kiss him. "Go!"

Ernest watched the paparazzi trying to follow her, but she quickly disappeared into the crowd, as if she has done it before. As instructed, he climbed into the car and gave the driver her orders. When they finally exited the airport, he turned to her with a curious, yet unamused look. "Are you going to explain what is going on?"

"You don't want to know about that now. You must be exhausted. Can we talk about it when we arrive at Ledford Park?"

"You said we would talk about it in the car. We're in the car," he stared at her deadpan.

"I don't want to bore you with courtly gossip."

"If it involves you, it certainly won't be boring."

She began to chew on a nail again.

"Whatever it is, it can't be worse than knowing you spent a night in jail, is it?"

A line appeared between her brows.

"Daphne?" His eyes went wide.

"It wasn't as bad..." she looked down at her hands. "It was sort of an accident."

"Sort of?" He arched an eyebrow.

"I was at the tennis club this afternoon for the benefit match and while I was playing against Donna, I saw Theresa with my brother."

"Is she still trying to fancy him?"

"Yeah, Henrietta is pushing him to go out with her. I was so mad at him for telling us he doesn't like her then going out with her. Briar was at the courtyard too and she looked so upset to see them together watching the game, laughing. I had to do something."

"So you shot the ball at them," he concluded.

"No! I shot it at Ed. Theresa may be obnoxious, but he's the one in a relationship, not her. Though, when I made the shot, he bent down and it hit Theresa's head." She scratched the back of her head, avoiding eye contact.

Ernest's lips quirked up. "I knew you wouldn't hit her on purpose."

"How did you know about this?" She stared at him wide-eyed. "You said you were at a meeting all afternoon and then you went straight to the airport."

"I did have to wait to embark and Cordonia happens to have WiFi everywhere." He smirked. "I figured the article that was sent to me was exaggerating when they mentioned your expression of shock as if you weren't sure you'd actually hit her. I taught you well enough to know you'd hit her if you wanted to and through the video I saw, she clearly wasn't your target."

"You saw that?! Who would send it to you?" Her cheeks turned pink.

"Aside from our friends, almost every noble person I know did. Though Harry was the one who showed me your new meme."

"Oh my god..." Daphne covered her face with both hands.

"Hey, don't get upset." He took her hands in his. "I thought it was funny. And she didn't press charges, which is good."

"I apologised, but I doubt she would’ve accepted if Eddie and my father haven’t explained to her family it was an accident. She never liked me anyway."

"I'm sure you meant every word you said to her." He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Aren't you mad at me for causing a scene again?"

"No. My concern is your well being while you run away from paparazzi in public places."

"I'll be okay. My reputation as a lady may not survive though." She bit down her lip.

"I know you can salvage your reputation and still the lady Edgewater needs you to be. The story will die out soon."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so."

"Thank you." She smiled timidly.

Slinging an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close and kissed her temple while the car finally reached the countryside of Edgewater, approaching Ledford Park manor.

The next days were a blur. Between her volunteer work with kids, drawing and photography classes, Daphne kept herself busy in an attempt to forget the little time she had with Ernest lately. In a similarly complicated situation, Briar grew apart from Edmund, which led the two of them to spend more time comforting each other.

"It seems like you had quite a night then," Daphne concluded.

"It's not like we ever had a problem in that department," Briar shrugged. "Sometimes, it feels like nothing has changed. But I know it did," she frowned, taking a spoonful of raspberry sorbet to her mouth.

"This is Henrietta's doing. I can feel it," Daphne gestured with her spoon. "Last time I was obligated to share a meal with her, Edmund could barely keep up a conversation with her without eye rolling."

"But that was also the same party he spent the night dancing with her and the Countess started to push him into Theresa's arms." She looked down her sorbet cup, toying with the spoon.

"Briar, he's with you." Daphne shifted on her seat to face her friend. "I'm not trying to defend him because he's my stepbrother, but I can tell he adores you. I've never seen him as happy as he is around you and Harry said the last time Edmund was excited about someone was when Salah signed for Liverpool FC."

Briar chuckled softly.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just remembered the night we spent our anniversary watching a Euro Cup match at the stadium wearing Liverpool T-shirts and eating greasy food with beer. He said it was the best anniversary ever." Her smile began to fade. "That feels like a long time ago now." Briar's bottom lip quivered. "I think I'm losing him, Daph."

"You're not." The noblewoman took the cup of sobert from Briar's hand, placing it on the side table and wrapped her arms around her friend, stroking her hair gently.

"Edmund can't say no to his mother. She told him to pursue Theresa and he is. Now she's probably telling him to avoid me."

"Briar, look at me."

She pulled away and stared at her friend.

"You're the one for Edmund. You're funny, smart, thoughtful, you have so many things in common and he's head over heels for you. And you know what? I've had enough of this pining thing between you two. Give me your mobile." she got out of the bed and extended her hand to Briar, who gave her the phone. "Lose the nightie."

"What?!"

"You heard me."

"But—"

"Oh please..." she scoffed. "You've done this several times in my bathroom and then bailed our slumber parties or waited for me and Ann to fall asleep so you can sneak into his suite. And I know you'd totally do it later if you weren't so sad tonight. Now take off that bloody Hello Kitty nightie and give me your best sexy pose."

"Just so you know, he likes my Hello Kitty nightie." Briar stuck her tongue out and pulled the large night t-shirt over her head, throwing it at her friend.

Daphne feigned disgust, but as Briar laughed, she snapped a few pictures, guiding her friend through the impromptu photoshoot. When they were done, she returned the mobile to her friend.

"Whoa... I look hot!" Briar murmured as her thumb tapped the screen. "I forgot how good you are with this."

"I'm glad you like the results, but I can't take all the credit. You're pretty and photogenic on your own. All I did was use the right lights and angles," Daphne explained.

"I should call you to do this every single time."

"Unless you start to pay me, I'll pass. Just pick one photo and send it to Ed."

Briar tapped the screen a few times and beamed. "Done. But I still don't understand why you're not following your gut and applying to other art schools."

Daphne gave her a sideways glance.

"I know, I know. Lady Dominique said Business is the best option for you and you applied to all the good nice Business schools here." Briar rolled eyes. "But I'm with Ernest on this one. You should do what you love doing."

"Why are you insisting on this?" Daphne asked, trying her best not to seem annoyed.

"Because it's your goddamn life and you should follow your instincts for once. You already applied to a Cornodian university art school and you could still send a few more letters."

"Most good art schools in Europe won't receive late submissions."

"There are also schools in The States..."

"Briar, I'm engaged. I can't go back to the States on my own just because."

"Then talk to your fiancé! Annabelle and I sent applications to Cornell. It's a great school, in New York, where your title won't mean that much, people won't care if you punched a guy to tried to grope you during Women's March or if you hit a ball on a nobleman chaser during a tennis match to defend your friend's honour."

Daphne pursed her lips, but couldn't hide a smile.

"Think about it, okay?"

The viscountess nodded.

"Oooh..." Briar grinned reading the text on her phone out loud. "'Put a coat on. I'll pick you up in fifteen.' You're a miracle worker, Daphne Wang."

"You're welcome. And since my work here is done, I'm calling Jonah. You go have fun." Daphne stood up and began to change clothes.

"You can still sleep here. Mom won't mind."

"Yeah, I know. But I want to watch a movie with my dog."

Briar looked at her friend finishing the call to her driver and staring at her phone. "Call Ernest."

"What?"

"Daph, your grandmother taught you well and your poker face is good, but I know you since elementary school. Drake is a wonderful company even when he snores in the middle of the night, but at the end of the day, he's just a dog and it's not your pet that you're missing right now. Leave him a voicemail, send a text, a nude."

"I'm not sending him a nude!"

"You know what I mean. Talk to him. Even if he doesn't pick up the phone right now, he'll be pleased to know you've been thinking about him while he's at his office being bossman Sinclaire."

Daphne bit down her lip.

"Again, think about it. Anyway, Edmund is here and I'm leaving." Briar put on a coat, shoved her phone in one purse and gave her friend a hug. "Call me if you need anything."

"You say it as if you will answer any texts or calls tonight." Daphne gave her a knowing look.

"Yeah, you're right." she giggled. "Call Annabelle. Maybe she'll knock some sense into your head."

Daphne shook her head and waved to her friend as she watched her close the door.

“Are you sure I’m not bothering you? If you’re too tired, we can plan something for the weekend.” Daphne suggested as her dog ate a few baby carrots off her hand.

“Absolutely not. I’m almost done here and I won’t wait until Friday if I have the chance to hold you tonight. I’ll meet you by the lake in ten minutes,” Ernest replied.

A light shade of red-tinted cheeks. “Okay.”

After hanging up the phone, she beamed at her dog, kneeled to scratch behind his ears and grabbed her coat to leave. But as she reached down the hallway leading to the backyard, two familiar male voices echoed through the walls.

“I apologise for taking so much of your time, sir.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m glad to help a friend. Besides, you only found yourself in this position after publicly supporting Daphne after her trial.”

“I couldn’t simply watch her face backlash. She’s my fiancée and I’ll always support her, even if I have to sacrifice business partnerships. I just wish I didn’t have to close the deal with hypocrites as the Viscount of Lochdale to prove my family’s company is worth the investment.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Ernest. Alfred isn’t going to make this partnership easy for you, but he’s your best option, all things considered. You’re a clever young man and I believe the company will thrive again in your hands. And when it comes to my daughter, I didn’t expect anything less from you. I’m sure you’re going to make her happy. Just be wise about the choices you make.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll take it under consideration.”

Daphne frowned and walked out of the house in silence. Closing her coat tightly around her body, she sat down on a bench outside and gazed at the ducks peacefully swimming in the lake, replaying in her mind the conversation she just heard over and over. He closed deals with people he loathed because of her and wondered how many deals has she jeopardized over the years for her father. Should Ernest live with this because they’re engaged? This isn’t fair…

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ernest queried while taking a seat beside her.

“Huh?” Her complexion went pale.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I…” she nodded with a smile. “It’s nothing.”

“You know, this smile you learned how to fake over the years is good. It looked quite similar to your genuine smile, except for the lack the sparkle in your eyes.”

Daphne looked down at her hands.

One of his hands reached for hers. “Will you tell me what’s troubling you? Perhaps we can solve it together.”

Daphne shifted in her seat to stare into his eyes. “Am I making your life difficult?”

“Excuse me?” His brows knitted together.

“Am I making things difficult for you in any way?”

“No. You’re the one thing in my life that keeps me hopeful.” He caressed her cheek affectionately. “Where is this coming from?”

“You said you weren’t bothered by gossip involving my name, but I was wondering if our relationship is jeopardizing your reputation or your career in any way.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Lord Vincent?”

“Not intentionally. I was going to let Dad know I was leaving to see you and kiss him goodnight. I didn’t even know you were here. When you said you’d meet me in ten minutes, I thought you were coming from your house.”

“What did you hear?”

“You closed a deal with The Viscount of Lochdale because you had problems with some business partnership after you publicly supported me during the trial for assault charges.”

“That’s true.”

“I’m sorry.” She tried to fight back tears.

“Don’t be,” he said, closing the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. “I brought this on myself. I could have ignored the gossip and acted as if nothing happened. But I couldn’t look the other way. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to any other woman that man ever tried to assault. I chose to stand by you at that moment and I will always choose you before anyone else.”

“But wasn’t he the son of an important client of yours? What if it happens again? I’m not saying it will, but you know these people better than I do and they’re full of shit.”

Ernest chortled. “I agree. And I’ll stand beside you for as long as you want me to.”

Daphne rested her head on his chest. “You’re amazing.”

“Compared to the young lady who broke the nose and humiliated a thirty old arse known for only hiring and giving raise to women who accepted his sexual advances, I’m quite ordinary.”

Daphne looked up at him, cupping his face with both hands. “Well, I respectfully disagree.” She purred, guiding his lips to hers. Locking her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss as Ernest pulled her into his lap, hands delving under her coat and sweater, searching for the warmth of her skin. “Darling?” she asked between short breaths.

“Hmm?”

“It’s cold out here.”

He pulled away and chuckled. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“But I know your bedroom is quite warm and cosy.”

“I don’t know about that. The bed doesn’t feel as cosy as it used to be when you slept on it,” he murmured, then kissed her softly.

“Oh, this is bad. We can’t have that.” She smirked.

“Should we fix this issue now?”

“Yes, please.”

Ernest grabbed her thighs, locking them around his waist and stood up, taking her to the manor while they shared smiles and sloppy kisses.

Not so far from them, a female figure watched them and talked on the phone. “They’re in. Is it all set?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Excellent. We’ll talk in the morning.”

[snowshinefivez5]

Maybe both their lives would've been different if he had rejected the offer

No 3scap1Ng tHeir fAte n0w 👁

[plumblossomkun]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷:「𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 / 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎?」

word count: 3.5k

setting: student!Taeyong x writing assistant!Female Reader, University!AU

warning[s]: none for this chapter besides some angst. later chapters will have more sensitive topics and they will be mentioned. 

chapter summary: in which Taeyong reminisces & tries to forget, but doesn’t stand a chance against the stars & their song. or, in which Taeyong & y/n meet again under the same sky, after years apart.

a/n: this is heavily inspired by Love Deluna; a big thank u @starxblossom for the help on this fic, which is VERY loosely based on something between a boy & me that began sweet. here is chapter one, as inspired by my messy [love] life. 

READ ME: this story will contain a LONG series of chapters :) i will italicize flashbacks in their entirety & indicate any changes in scene or point of view in bold. furthermore, chapters will alternate between Taeyong and y/n unless otherwise indicated.

other tags: @bunny-doyounq! enjoy~ ♫ 

moodboard | playlist | main masterlist | a map of the campus | extras | fun facts

previous | next

Exactly 4 years ago—

“What are you looking for?” he asks, leaning into her so that their shoulders are barely touching. She stares up into the dark, cloudless sky, eyes focused on something he cannot see, painted coral lips slightly parted.

He wonders if one day he’ll feel them against his skin, instead of the winter breeze. Instead of the knowledge that her heart is somewhere else, has always been somewhere else.

“The stars,” she replies, abandoning her search in favor of looking sideways at him with a faint smile. Her gaze is distant, though, and it feels like something sharp has lodged itself in his gut, because he can’t remember if she’s ever really looked at him. “I love the city lights. I really do. But I want to see the stars, I want to see the sky covered in them.”

And then her eyes turn back to the heavens.

He wishes he could anchor her, bring her down from the clouds— but he knows she won’t let him. At least, not as they are. 

Not as he is.

So, instead, he places his hand on top of hers, the words he really wants to say stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat, threatening to choke him as he assures her, “We’ll go somewhere you can see them, someday.”

Someday, when I return, he promises silently.

She looks at his hand, then at him, and her voice is tiny, barely audible when she asks, “How far?”

He sees the glimmer of fear in her eyes, and takes his hand away, missing the warmth of her even as he does so. But he knows better than to linger too long and spook her. 

“As far as you want.”

Now —

Daly City, CA

 —in one word, home

How many moons has it been, since he last set foot in this tiny city, engulfed in a sea of fog pierced only by the headlights of the Model Y Teslas that speed away towards the skyscrapers of the big city to the north?

Too many.

And yet, though he’s returned to the place he’s loved most out of all the homes he’s forged, he feels like he is about to make the second greatest mistake of his life. 

He scales the moss-lined steps leading up to the park from the main road, relishing the way the sounds of traffic are muffled by the towering, groaning pines. But when he steps off the uneven dirt path, his heart drops a little when he digs his heels into the earth and finds that the soccer fields have been filled with fake grass and rubber dirt.

He shuffles towards the library, passing through the playground and its vacant swings, sparing a wistful glance for the sand pit, which is filled with mud and litter and not a single child to dig through it. It’s early, the sun hasn’t even started to peek its head over the horizon, but he remembers when he was a child, the seesaw was always creaking away, and the swings were never left unoccupied.

The jingle of a bell lifts his chin from his chest, though, and he sucks a breath in between his teeth in disbelief. There’s no way it’s the rickety old ice cream truck that used to come around when he was a kid, the one with the smiling old man and his wife.

And he’s right, though he’s never wished more in his life that he was wrong. 

It’s a cluster of kids on their bikes, ringing their bells like mad and whooping as they zoom through the parking lot, past the basketball and tennis courts that have always been worn and gray, but seem all the worse for wear without the thud of shoes against the cement to fill the spaces in between the groaning fences. 

He shoves his hands in his pocket and walks back to his car, shoulders heavy with the knowledge that the world he left behind was not untouched in his absence.

You included, though he knows better than to think you’d be waiting for him. You would never have looked back, not when he’d left like that, without warning, without so much as a goodbye.

You probably hate him for it.

So he gets back into his car, grits his teeth, and promises himself, later, he’ll forget about it. He’ll start at a new school, make new friends, focus on his classes, and act as if the past doesn’t still have its claws in his heart. 

Later, he’ll pretend he doesn’t miss the days you’d sit at the top of those steps and drink Arizonas together, wasting the hours until the sun set and you had to decline call after call from your overprotective father, insisting you come home because it was getting too late.

Later, he’ll unpack his boxes at the university apartments, and thank his parents for leaving out the pictures of you and him.

But for now, he grips the steering wheel and takes the I-280 south, all four windows down, using the roar of the autumn wind to drown out the voice inside that says he’s made a mistake, coming back home to California. The voice that insists he came back not for a new start, not because his parents insisted he finish his education abroad, but to see you again.

Santa Clara, CA

— the place you imagine when you think California vibes.

“You know, Taeyong, you didn’t have to come all the way from Korea to bring me flowers.” Johnny eyes the bouquet of violently pink hydrangeas that Taeyong has just produced from the passenger seat of his car like they’ve offended him. “These are pretty, but you know I have allergies, right?”

“They’re not for you,” Taeyong snorts, lifting his computer tower from the backseat with a grunt. “Can you grab the other box from the back?”

Johnny grabs the storage box filled with peripherals and shuts the trunk. “Who else would they be for?”

“My mother told me your mother was visiting.” Taeyong kicks the door closed and locks the car twice, holding his beloved computer tower close to his body and the flowers under his arm. “And that we’re getting lunch together, apparently. Also, since when have you been allergic to flowers?”

“Since I saw these.” Johnny wrinkles his nose at the flowers. “And we’re not eating on campus— I never thought I would say this, but I am sick of burritos.” He shudders as he taps his ID to the scanner at the front entrance, and holds the door open as Taeyong tiptoes through, careful not to trip over the door frame. “There’s a good Korean barbecue place in San Jose, ten minutes out from here. Mom’s checking out the stationery store at Santana Row, said we can call her when we’re ready to go. Have you toured the campus yet?”

Taeyong laughs. “No, I haven’t had the time to look around—”

“Seriously?” Johnny purses his lips in an exaggerated pout. “Okay, come on. Let’s put this stuff away, and I’ll show you around.” He ushers him through another set of double doors, past a small expanse of grass complete with a volleyball net and red flowers draped across a wooden pavilion, shining steel grills polished and ready for the next Sunday playoffs, to the ground floor apartment of a building on the opposite side of the complex.

Taeyong can’t help but already imagine himself sitting on the grass, when he has time after classes, taking the time to watch the sun sink below the rooftops, coffee in one hand and music filling his ears. He can imagine himself mapping the skies, searching for stars.

He catches himself there, shakes his head at his own foolishness. “Lee Taeyong,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair, “this is no time to think about stargazing.”

“Stargazing?” Johnny echoes, emerging from the bathroom with his hands still a little wet, waving them about to dry them. “We have an observatory, if you’re interested in that.”

Taeyong tries to act like the idea hasn’t excited him, bending down to tie his shoes to hide the grin splitting his face. “We can check it out if it’s not too out of the way, I guess.”

Johnny chuckles, closing the door behind him. “Of course. Last and least on the list.”

Palm trees overlook the majority of the campus, leaning low over the buildings and casting long shadows along the pavement. And where there isn’t red or gray brick, there is carefully curated grass, neatly clipped hedges, and collections of too-perfect, too-saturated flowers highlighting each walkway.

It’s a little artificial, a little unreal, but Taeyong can’t deny that, with the afternoon sun beating down on his shoulders, casting golden light without a single wisp of fog in the air, and a slight breeze nipping at his fingertips, it feels like a slice of paradise, straight out of the movies.

Near the end of the main road, Johnny points out a pastel rainbow of roses that lead to a side path that wraps around the church, under a canopy of vines and branches and ornately wrought wood. “I like to come here instead of on the quads; it’s quieter. Some people even take wedding pictures here when the weather is nice.”

Taeyong spots a bench a little ways down the path, surrounded by roses— the perfect spot to take a picture, one to remember his first day back under the California sun. 

When he turns back to ask his friend to capture the moment for him, Johnny is already motioning for him to hand over his phone, a knowing smile playing across his face. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to take a photo earlier.” Taeyong laughs, brushes rose petals off of the bench before he sits, squinting as he finds a spot that is both well lit and doesn’t have the sun blazing directly into his eyes. “This is too pretty to pass up.”

“Ready?”

Taeyong nods, smiling chastely into the eye of the camera.

“Okay, three, two, one—”

Click.

“Another pose~ three, two, one—”

He adds a peace sign. He knows his mother will definitely ask for one of him and Johnny later, and makes a note to take one at lunch.

Click.

“Last one, look sexy, Taeyong-ah, say mwah for the camera~”

Taeyong bursts into laughter at that, but Johnny snaps the picture anyway.

Click.

“That’s the candid I was looking for,” he says, clearly pleased by his work, handing Taeyong’s phone back to him. “You look good.” And for all his teasing, Johnny is right about the photos— he looks sun-kissed and happy. Nothing like how he’d felt earlier that morning.

He takes a deep breath, taking in the rich scent of the roses around them as the church bells sound, signaling noon. He gathers a handful of pink petals and marvels at their unmarked, silken beauty. “I feel good, too.”

“What did Seoul do to you?” Johnny asks thoughtfully, looking him up and down as if this is the first time he’s really looked at him all day. 

Taeyong tosses the petals in the air with a chuckle. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we were teenagers...” Johnny snaps his fingers, looking for the right words. “You look like you know yourself better. Is that it?” A girl’s wail splits the air before he can answer, followed by the pitter-patter of quick footsteps. “Excuse me, I’m laaaate—” 

Taeyong steps aside automatically, and as the girl runs past him, long hair whipping him in the face despite his quick reflexes, he catches a whiff of summer, of wildflowers, jasmine, and something of the ocean breeze.

And while he doesn’t recognize the perfume, his heart sinks when he realizes he does know that voice. 

Your voice.

His phone drops from his hand, and he jumps to his feet.

There’s no way.

Luckily, Johnny snatches up his phone before it hits the ground, and when he sees the expression on Taeyong’s face, leans in front of him with a concerned look, waving a hand to catch his attention. “Whoa. You good, buddy?”

Taeyong’s eyes don’t even register the movement. He presses a hand to his chest to check if his heart is still beating, and has to sit down on the bench again, because he is shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane. 

He feels like all the breath has been sucked out of his lungs, like the bones in his body have suddenly become hollow and thin like glass. “I… was that...?”

Johnny follows his gaze, staring at the back of the girl who is still rushing down the path. “Oh...” he exhales, craning his head to get a better look. “Oh.”

Slowly, he nods his head, and the confirmation is like a death rattle to Taeyong. “I heard she was here, but, you know... I didn’t really go looking.” 

Johnny places a firm hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, and his voice is gentle when he reminds him, “You shouldn’t either.”

Taeyong closes his eyes and shakes his head, because after all this time, despite the years he’s spent under a different skyline— here you are— here—

The thought chokes him. It wraps icy fingers around his heart and crushes it, crushes him. 

He can’t remember the reason he left, only that it wasn’t right, only that he should’ve stayed.

And though he has only caught a moment’s glimpse, shared a single breath, he can’t deny it, he hasn’t changed at all.

He is still the same boy, praying that a flower that lives for starlight will bloom for him instead.

6 and a half years ago— 

Taeyong did not want to attend Winter Ball— in fact, he would rather have eaten dirt—  but Yuta and Ten ended up buying him a ticket anyway. He had tried to escape after the last bell, ducking towards the door before the teacher had even dismissed them, but Johnny locks an arm around his shoulders before he can escape.

“You can skip every dance after this one,” he bargains, clicking his tongue, and drags Taeyong down the street to his house to lend him clothes for the night. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Live a little. Dance a little.”

“No, it won’t,” Taeyong grumbles, but puts on the white collared shirt and black tie ensemble anyway, Mrs. Suh cooing “So handsome!” a thousand times at them as she snaps photos to keep in her newly-bought scrapbooks, before ushering them out. “Be back by midnight, okay?”

And now, he plays the wallflower in the small gym, watching in faint amusement as the people dancing freeze in confusion as they try to guess at what song is playing next, the DJ’s transitions between songs awkward and stilted. Despite that, towering over everyone in the very heart of the crowd, Johnny dances like there’s no tomorrow. Yuta and Ten had tried to get him out there, too— they had tried to drag him, princess-carry, and Yuta had even tried to throw him— but Taeyong isn’t in the mood to dance.

A flash of silver catches his eye, and he momentarily forgets that he is supposed to be uninterested in everything that the evening has to offer.

A girl strides towards him, sparkling white glitter sliding off her collarbones like someone has poured starlight on her, refracting tiny pinpoints of light onto her face. She is smiling, and her cheeks are a deep shade of rouge, but her smile is more like a lioness baring her fangs, and the rest of her expression is cold and hard. 

Her lips purse as she stares at the half-open door to his left, and the wind whispering behind it. She pauses in the doorway, gaze flicking back to the crowd.  And then to him. 

When she sees that Taeyong’s looking back at her, her expression lightens, the corners of her eyes crinkling in true mirth. 

And then she’s gone, the door swinging shut behind her with a sigh.

He finds her perched on the railing outside, on the balcony that overlooks the entire campus, watching the last snatches of day start to die away. She turns as he approaches, the light on the horizon line pooling around her, framing her figure in gold and scarlet. The breeze bites at his cheeks, and her midnight blue chiffon dress clings to her body, but unlike him, she does not shiver; instead, she leans into the icy caress of winter like it is an old friend. 

So when her eyes burn into his, he is already half-convinced that she is some ethereal creature. He opens his mouth to speak, but she shakes her head, as if the sound of his voice will break the spell she’s cast, one that blurs the noise behind him in favor of the shifting world before him. 

A wry smile curls her lips, like she’s laughing at some unspoken joke, and she pats the railing next to her, inviting him to join her in the moment.

Mutely, they watch the sky until it darkens and the northern star has begun to twinkle, the last murmurs of gold plunging below the school buildings. So much time passes, in fact, that when she suddenly takes a deep breath, consuming the night air like it is her lifeblood, it startles him, and he almost falls off the railing into the uneven hedges below them.

She laughs aloud then, and says, in a low, almost husky voice, “Are you afraid I might bite?”

His brain fizzles as he tries to think of something to say that isn’t stupid. He settles for the truth. “You look like you might just fly away if I come too close.”

She looks startled, like she wasn’t expecting him to respond with those words, and then shakes her head, that same mysterious smile curving her lips. She tips her head back and lets the wind comb through her long hair. “I wish I could fly. Don’t you?”

He thinks about it, looks up into the sea of gray clouds filtering the moonlight into ivory shards. “Maybe. Where would you go, if you could?”

She leans back a little too far and loses her balance for a split second— and he instinctively reaches out to catch her, gripping her hands in his. 

Her hands are small, and freezing, but still, they do not shake. Her heartbeat thrums against his palms, and she laughs breathlessly, the noise dragging his eyes up to meet hers. 

He can’t help but flinch; her gaze is filled with stone that had not been there a second before. It does not soften until she has extracted herself from his hold, and the cold railing is the only thing they share in common. 

Only then does she answer his question, clearing her throat. When she speaks this time, her voice has lost its airy quality, becoming sweeter, softer. He loses himself there, and openly stares at her, awed by— everything about her. “I think I’d see if heaven existed,” she breathes, reaching towards the stars, cupping the curve of the moon within her hands. “Go as high as I could until my lungs cried out for mercy.”

She slips down from her perch, lighting down quietly on the hard cement. On level ground, she is quite a bit shorter than him, and yet he feels intimidated by her proximity when she leans towards him, face impassive as she studies his.

“What?” he asks, jutting out his chin in challenge.

The girl rolls her eyes, unimpressed. But whatever she finds in his expression, she clearly doesn’t dislike because she says carelessly, tossing the words out at rapid-fire speed, “I’m going to go find a better view, and real food. Feel free to tag along, if you want.” 

And then she’s walking away before he can even accept the invitation, tugging off both her heels in one fluid motion and dangling them off of her shoulder as she starts heading down the five flights of stairs leading down to the main entrance, completely barefoot and humming a tune he does not know.

He looks back at the gym. He doesn’t see Yuta, or Ten, or Johnny through the glass— in fact, he’s sure they won’t notice him leaving, either, not while they’re dancing— so he makes his choice. 

He can be back by midnight, if he keeps track of the time.

“Wait—” he calls after her.

She pauses, and their gazes lock. For a split second, something flickers to life in her eyes, summons a peal of laughter from deep within her throat. She licks her lips, head tilted up towards him, and he understands it then. She is lovely, and the moonrise suits her, but she is no ethereal being, no angel, no goddess.

“Catch me if you can, then.” 

Still— he can’t look away.

He can’t help but chase after her.

a/n 2.0: feedback of all kinds is appreciated! ♥ luv y’all

[thinkingimages]

SALVADOR DALI (1904-1989) PORTRAIT DE GALA, CIRCA 1936-1938 

Mine de plomb sur papier - Dessin double face (au verso, étude de nuages, crayon de couleur) 38,7 x 27 cm - 15.2 x 10.6 cm Pencil on paper- double-face drawing (verso: clouds sketch, pencil on paper) Provenance: - Galerie André-François Petit, Paris. Acquise directement auprès de celle-ci par la propriétaire actuelle

[pcktsprgrl]

Annabelle's Diary pt 2(I Mean To See It Through)

Pairings: Annabelle  x mc

Rating: general

Published:  2/24/19

Disclaimer: the characters are not mine.

Author's notes: So this is part two of Annabelle's diary. It stops just after chapter seven before grouse hunting takes place. Hope you all enjoy! Also Im on mobile and idk how to use read more on it.

The season is over and I am back in Hazelvale. My family is more obnoxious than ever about me finding a suitor. I tried to tell them I had but now all I hear are inquires for a name, or rank.

Meeting the queen should have been an honor but all I could think of was how I wish I had been on Lady Clara's arm instead of Duke Richards.

Its been nearly a week since ive heard from her. I imagine the Duke is keeping her close. The thought of them planning their wedding makes me quite ill.

~~~

I have received word from Lady Clara today. She has ran from Edgewater, escaping back to the tiny village she grew up in.

I believe I must join her there. I scarcely know if she means to stay and never return or keep on running. I am fearful of what may happen if they find her, but I must go.

I do not know what may happen. Should she choose to stay I may go with her.

~~~~

I found her running today. Through the town square. We all got into the game of tag, even Mr Sinclaire.  There must be a kind of magic about this little town.

It is strange and freeing being here. Everyone is so kind with little regard to status. She took my hand as we walked her childhood home. Smiling and laughing. Climbing trees to pick apples. It was all like a dream.

~~~

What a wonderful day we had. Mrs Daly taught me practical uses of what I once thought to be a frivolous exercise for proper ladies to do while gossiping. I helped to mend and sew for the coming festival.

We also visited Lady Clara's old home. It was so small. Though I suppose anything would be compared to Edgewater. I looked around at the modest furniture and small decorative items. It almost felt as if I had come home as well. It hurt to see the tears in her eyes as she sank on the bed clutching a letter in her hand.

She seemed in good spirits when her and Mr Sinclaire finally arrived back at the Daly's. I could not help but feel the certain pang of jealousy that usually accompanies seeing her on anyone else's arm.

The rest of the evening was spent with games and laughter. We escaped the crowd and went into an old barn loft. Laying there with her, seeing how relaxed she had become. I hadn't thought she could be more stunning.

I opened my mouth to speak. To tell her we could stay, if only she spoke the words. Her eyes searched mine and the words died to be replaced with "In another life.."

That may well be how long we must wait. The Dowager Countess arrived to see me on one knee before Lady Clara. Her scowl deepened and she practically shouted how the poor

Duke was so concerned. I heard the whispered warning about how it is dangerous for the two of us. I fear she may be right. This may all come to a bad end, but I mean to see it through.

~~~

Our time alone has been fewer and fewer.  I like the conversations that go on between us when no one else knows. Her subtle smile or the twinkle in her eyes. It means more to me than a thousand conversations could ever.

We snuck away to the wine cellar tonight. I loved the way her nose crinkled at the vintage wine I had been anxious to test. She recovered quickly and smiled saying how it didn't hold a candle to me.

The more we kiss the deeper and more desperate they become. I can't help but wonder if her fears match my own. What if this were our last kiss?  Our last opportunity?  I sincerely hope it is not.

~~~~

Tonight was Lady Clara and the

Duke's engagement ball. I can scarcely write the words without feeling anger boil within me.

I kept Viscount Westonly busy as Clara made her rounds. Upstaging the Duke was our priority but I must admit seeing her in the dress I bought her fairly took my breath. I thought,  not for the first time, what it must be like to take her out of that dress. I suppose I may never know.

All eyes were on us as we glided along the dance floor but it didn't seem to matter. I got completely lost in her embrace until the Duke interrupted. The fiendish look in his eyes when he caught us dancing sent a chill down my spine.

She spat remarks back in his face as he glowered over her. I could swear her knees shook only slightly as she pulled from his grasp and ran towards the balcony.

I taught her the people watching game Harry and I would play. We laughed until our sides hurt. We talked and kissed. I was happy to just be in her presence.  All too soon it was over.

We made our way back to the ball where the Duke yanked her roughly to the dance floor. I glanced at her helplessly.

It was a mild relief that Dowager Countess spoke on Lady Clara's behalf as the Duke attempted yet another assault.

I suppose I should sleep. There is to be grouse hunting to celebrate their wedding date. I wish to be at my best. Heaven knows with loaded rifles, and a clouded mind what accidents may happen.

[catherinedaly]

tib + cat ( pokemon trainers au )

Catherine watches will ill-disguised interest as Charizard watches her beloved Vulpix prance around one of the less-bloodied sparring mats in Measure by Measure. The disgust on the Pokémon’s face is evident, especially when he snaps his jaw in annoyance when something Vulpix does is incredibly–in his opinion–soft. He’s so much like Tiberius, the blonde thinks to herself, all work, no play. And since Tiberius has stepped out for a few moments, Catherine takes it upon herself to chip away at the fiery exterior of Charizard. “Mia stellina,” the coordinator calls, “won’t you show Il Tigre’s companion what it’s like to aim for beauty rather than destruction? C’mon, mi amor, show him what you’ve got!”

With a shake of her fluffy white tails, the Alolan fox Pokémon obliges without hesitation; from her maw comes a sparkling cloud of angelic snowflakes aimed pointedly at the large orange dragon. His frame is dusted with snow, save for the flame on his tail, that seems to increase in ferocity with every passing moment. Smoke billows from his nostrils and, before Catherine has the time to snatch her little fox up, flames shoot from his mouth and surround Vulpix.

“Charizard!” she says, and he stops, but not soon enough; her sweet Pokémon has gone from a snow-white cloud to an overcooked marshmallow. Vulpix coughs and shakes her frame, but it’s not enough to rid her of the soot that clings. Catherine crouches and opens her arms; the tiny Pokémon all but leaps into her grasp, soot transferring from one face to the other. She can’t help but laugh and tousle the now-nearly black fur atop Vulpix’s head as she coos, “You did so well, tersero, that might have been the most beautiful Powder Snow I’ve ever seen! Here–” she shifts so that Vulpix can perch on her shoulder “I have a poffin for your hard work. It’s sweet, from Pecha berries–your favorite.” Catherine offers the pink treat and Vulpix happily consumes it.

Tiberius’s Pokémon cranes his head in their direction. He looms over Catherine and Vulpix both, sniffing in search of a poffin of his own. Catherine notices his nosiness and his sweet tooth; she turns to face the dragon completely, an almost mischievous grin seizing control of her glossed lips. "I didn’t forget about you, il mio fuoco,” she assures, hand patting gently against Charizard’s nose. “I’ve got some for you, too–Cheri berry based, as I’ve seen Tiberius and you indulge when you think Vulpix and I aren’t paying any attention.”

The Pokémon practically sneers in her direction, but he doesn’t budge as he awaits his gift from the saint.

“But before I give them to you, there’s something you have to let me do…”

“Daly!” the tiger of Verona roars as he finally returns. “What the fuck have you done?” Tiberius is far from pleased. His scathing gaze moves from the blonde, to her Vulpix, to his Charizard and he can’t believe the scene in front of him: the three are nestled comfortably on the training mat, poffins sprawled between them. Vulpix continuously tries to quell the fire of Charizard’s tail and Charizard repeated swats her away–not too hard, but enough to sweep her from her paws. “Is… Is that a fucking pink bow on my Charizard?”

Catherine looks up from her phone, azure eyes innocent as she responds, “I only had a pink bow on me, as they normally go on Vulpix. But it came unraveled and I was trying to get the size just right for her–perfectly sized for Charizard’s head and adorably oversized for hers.”

“You used my Pokémon as a fucking model? You’re a trainer, Catherine, not a coordinator! The only time your Vulpix should wear a bow is if she’s in a casket awaiting burial.” Upon hearing this, Vulpix turns her attention from Charizard and his flame to Tiberius and his words. She pads over to him and bites at his ankle in protest before darting away–far too quickly for him to reach down and grab her by the scruff as he normally does. “Damn it!” he curses. “You know what–fuck it. Today was going to be an easy day for you and Vulpix, but your wannabe coordinator ass just ruined it. Charizard!” The Pokémon lumbers over to his trainer; the pink bow is snatched from his head and replaced by a collar of Charizardite X. 

“Oh, Tiberius, wait–That’s not fair!” Catherine cries out, scrambling to her feet as she desperately searches for Vulpix’s PokéBall so that she can save her from the onslaught to come. “You’re going to turn him into Mega Charizard? Vulpix doesn’t even have a mega evolution!” Her pleading falls upon deaf ears as the orange dragon shifts into one of black and blue, of even more power than previously held. 

“Boo-fucking-hoo, Daly,” he snaps as he reaches down to snag Vulpix by her scruff as she tries to run into Catherine’s arms. “You put a pink bow on my Pokémon so it looks like I’ve gotta remind you who he is, who I am, and what you and that dirty-cotton ball fox should be.” He releases the little Pokémon who lands on the floor with the tiniest of thuds. “You’re going to battle with us until Vulpix can’t move. Now!”

[radioleary-blog]

Hef Tragedy Jam

Hugh Hefner died yesterday. When the news was announced, over fifty women said they were dismayed. No, wait...over fifty women said they were “Miss May”. Fifty more were Miss June, and, well, you get the picture. If you were lucky you got their pictures.

Few of you reading this are old enough to remember that Playboy magazine was about the only place you could see a naked woman, and I say that because there are probably few of you reading this, period. But hey, my column gets more readers than the average suicide note, statistically speaking. Although I’m trying to increase my readership, and the average suicide note is more of a stand-alone project. I bet if George Lucas ever wrote a suicide note, he’d follow it up with three prequel notes. Each successively worse than the last. People would be like, “Why did he have to ruin that original suicide note, which I loved, with those awful prequel-suicide notes? I don’t care why he got depressed, but clearly only a manic depressive could make such a desperate cry for help as introducing Jar-Jar Binks. If I ruined a billion dollar franchise by coming up with an offensive racist caricature like Jar-Jar Binks, I’d probably consider putting a lightsaber in my mouth too.”

I grew up with Playboy magazine, and my early knowledge of female physiology was less from a volume of Grey’s anatomy or sketches by DaVinci, and more from volumes of Playboy magazine. It was like a reference guide, one that you would hold up with one hand. In fact, the first time I had a girlfriend who got naked, I wondered where her staples were. Of course, today, I’m the one who should have his stomach stapled, but that’s another story. Ah, sweet irony!

I’m sure Hugh Hefner went to Heaven, but whatever gleaming Mansion in the sky awaits us, no matter how glorious, for Hugh Hefner it’s going to be a pretty big step down from the Playboy Mansion. It may actually be Seventh Heaven, but Hef has been living on Cloud Nine since 1956. But, hey, he’s already wearing a robe. You know when you see depictions of Heaven, everybody is always wearing white robes? That’s because they were wearing those white robes in the hospital when they died. And they make you wear those awful robes that don’t close in the back because that’s where your wings will come out when you get to Heaven. It’s all part of God’s plan. I bet you’ll still have that plastic wristband on too, St. Peter just scans it at the gate to let you in. <beep> “Cardiac arrest. You’re good. Check in at the registration desk. Have a valid photo ID ready.”

Hugh Hefner was such a consummate pussyhound, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made a deathbed conversion to radical Islam, just to get the 72 virgins in Heaven. God would be like - I mean “Allah” would be like, “Pretty tricky Hef, pretty tricky. But...technically it counts. You old horndog!” Of course, you know what Hugh Hefner calls 72 virgins? A slow Tuesday.

The Playboy Mansion was famous for its out-of-control parties, and the mansion had a natural cave-like grotto on the grounds where everyone would go to snort coke and have sex. I guess Hef was a lot like Bruce Wayne, a millionaire with a mansion and a cave. And didn’t they call Bruce Wayne a millionaire playboy? Hef was a Playboy millionaire. But the difference is, Hef would rather do coke and fuck super-models whereas Batman would rather do-good and fight super-villains. Plus, Batman slides down the Bat-pole, and crazy hot chicks slide down the Hef-pole. In other words, Hef was sane, and Batman was, well, not so much. Batman is basically a billionaire who just wants to hurt people and not get sued for it and pretend he’s a hero. Kind of like Trump.

The grotto cave on the grounds of the Playboy Mansion had a huge, heated Jacuzzi pool, where movie stars, rock and roll gods, and celebrity athletes were eagerly humped by groupies, star-fuckers, and aspiring playmates. Unprotected 1970’s sex was messier than Michael J. Fox eating an ice cream cone, so the pool was probably 60% water, 2% spilled cocaine, and 38% James Caan’s jizz. The lifeguard got syphilis just from giving mouth to mouth resuscitation. At least that was her story. But that was about the same time Grand Funk Railroad was in town, so who can say? I do think ‘grotto’ must be the Italian word for ‘gross’.

I hear some of the more politically correct crowd, or as they’re more commonly known, nitwits, complaining that Playboy exploited women. And I guess it was exploitation, in the same sense that Vogue magazine is exploiting the mostly-naked teenage anorexic girls slash super-models in their magazine. And I say slash because that’s what these girls often try to do to their wrists. Unlike Vogue magazine models, at least the Playboy women didn’t have eating disorders. They’re a lot less likely to stick their fingers down their throats. I’m not saying they’re any less likely to have something down their throats, but not their fingers.

Exploiting women. As if Hugh Hefner was hanging around the Newark bus station looking for a girl down on her luck and fresh off the turnip truck from Topeka. That sounds more like the plot of a 1930’s movie than the way his business empire was run. I think what Hef did was have his photography editors, both men and women, spend endless hours going through duffel bags of mail sent in by thousands of women from all around the country who wanted to pose for Playboy. The staff would narrow it down to probably a few dozen, and then get Hef’s opinion on who was not only the most beautiful, but who had the look that would be right to feature in the magazine. That’s exactly what the editors and publishers do at Elle, and Vogue, and every other magazine that holds up a particular brand of beauty as an ideal.

And I don’t know any women who haven’t worn out the related links on their favorite porn sites jilling off to whatever their particular porn flavor might be, so who exactly are these people that still have a problem with Playboy? Because without Hefner’s decades of battles against governmental and religious censorship, there would be no porn sites. Hef made it possible to look at porn sites without pretending you go there for the articles. Without Playboy, people would still be saying, “Did you read that insightful article on the humanitarian crisis in Darfur? And that recently-found short story by J.D, Salinger?” “Why, yes. I particularly liked the profile of Jazz trumpeters from the post-bop era. And I did notice some delightful porn as well, between the articles, of course.”

The reason Hef could get away with putting in naked chicks is his magazine is because Playboy was a serious, respected literary magazine. The greatest writers of the day were in Playboy:

Ray Bradbury wrote original content for Playboy, and serialized Fahrenheit 451, which was coincidentally the exact temperature of how hot the playmates were.

The Beat writer Jack Kerouac wrote for Playboy, and that cat was cool as hell. Beat, Jack, that is exactly what Playboy readers do.

Ian Fleming published short stories in Playboy, and the James Bond novel “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” was published first in Playboy. We all know James Bond got enormous amounts of pussy. But compared to what Hef was getting, James Bond looks like a bible salesman with erectile disfunction. Or a guy who works in a comic book store. Think about that for a minute; the world’s sexiest pussyhound spy still gets less women than the guy who published the magazine his story is in. And Bond is fictional!

Roald Dahl wrote for them, too. The author of “Willie Wonka” writing for people who wonka their willies, sounds apropo.

Kurt Vonnegut wrote for them all the time, and that dude was cooler than Ice Nine. There’s a reference for ya!

Joseph Heller published a lost chapter of “Catch-22” in Playboy. I think the title Catch-22 might be the number of social diseases you’d get if you had sex in the grotto.

Margaret Atwood, author of “The Handmaid’s Tale” started writing for Playboy in 1991. I would imagine one of her stories was called “The Handmaid’s Tail”.

Hunter S. Thompson. Gabriel García Márquez, John Updike, Joyce Carol Oates, Truman Capote, they all wrote for Playboy. This magazine was the real deal, kids, it was smarter and cooler than absolutely anything you know today. You see, all of these stories were longer than 140 characters. Or even 280.

I actually learned quite a bit about culture from Playboy, between rounds, if you know what I mean. By middle school I could discuss the literary feud between Gore Vidal and Norman Mailer in English class and sound like a friggin’ genius, I just couldn’t tell the teacher where I learned it. “Where did I learn that? Oh, you know. Around. Literary journals, and the like. At that building that has all the books. Yes, exactly, the library! That’s the one! I frequent that establishment, I‘ll have you know.” What was I gonna say? My father’s sock drawer?

The Playboy Interview was legendary, they were deep, involved discussions, frank and uncensored. Here are some of the people they interviewed: Salvador Dali, Patty Hearst, Groucho Marx, Ansel Adams, Stanley Kubrick, The Beatles, Albert Schweitzer, Buckminster Fuller, Orson Welles, Peter Sellers, Abbie Hoffman, Tennessee Williams, Erica Jong, Allen Ginsberg, and Bertrand Russell. Then there are the so famous they’re known by just one name:  Fellini, Castro, Brando, Nehru, Sartre, Bowie, Nabokov, Hoffa, Carson, Antonioni, Mastroianni, Gleason, and Sinatra. And Playboy was woke, they interviewed Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., Alex Haley, Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali,  Eldridge Cleaver, Dick Gregory, and Huey Newton. Holy shit, right?  Who do you see interviewed today? Kardashians? Ryan Gosling? Taylor Swift, but interrupted by Kanye West? This time we live in today has less culture than a petri dish.

Hef lived so long that most people today have no real idea how influential he was, what an important cultural icon he was, and that he somehow talked Marilyn Monroe into posing naked on the cover of the very first issue of his magazine way the hell back in 1956. That’s a dude with the Kavorka, big-time. And nobody was naked back in 1956. Not in this country. In 1956, people showered wearing a suit and tie, and apart from time shampooing, a smart fedora. They say people were more cultured back then because they went to art museums, bullshit, I think they only went to art museums to see the nudes in the oil paintings. You would too, and you know it, don’t even try to deny it. You’d say you were admiring the Titian, but you were really just admiring the Tit.

Nearly every issue, Playboy featured a very prominent celebrity with a well-established career and respected in her field who actually wanted people to see how beautiful she was without any clothes. Starting with Marilyn Monroe. And she was smoking hot, too, an icon in her absolute prime. Future historians will be more grateful for that photo shoot than they are for the discovery of the Nag Hammadi texts. Where do you go from there, Playboy? Well, how about Farrah Fawcett, the biggest sex-symbol of the entire 1970’s! The list of gorgeous, talented, famous, successful women that wanted to pose for Playboy might be hard for you to imagine, as you live in an age where women pose in magazines like Maxim with their clothes on! And men today pay to see that? Wtf? Man, I can see women with their clothes on just about anywhere I go. I can see that in line at the deli counter, I don’t need to pay for it.

Here are just a few, a very few, of the already-famous women who chose to pose with no clothes:

Daryl Hannah. Olivia Munn. Kim Basinger. Charlize Theron. Drew Barrymore. Denise Richards (she had kids with Charlie Sheen, so posing for Playboy was comparatively a relatively sound decision). Shannen Doherty. Belinda Carlisle. Jayne Mansfield. Mariel Hemingway. Margaux Hemingway. Nastassja Kinski. Sharon Stone. Rosanna Arquette. Vanna White. Elle MacPherson. Brigitte Bardot. Uma Thurman. Kate Moss. The list is almost endless. I almost said bottomless, but being Playboy, “bottomless”  goes without saying.

Sure, the last decade and a half weren’t great for Hef, but who stays cool past the age of 75? Only Bob Dylan and Picasso. Hef couldn’t let it all go, and at the end it was pretty sad. It was like Sunset Boulevard with viagra. But I’ll miss the Hef of fifty years ago, that man was at the forefront of political movements, cultural progress, gay rights, equal rights, reproductive rights, and the right to take your goddamn clothes off if you feel like it.

This may be the first funeral where you should bring condoms. In lieu of flowers, please give blowjobs. So long, Hef. Thanks for the mammaries.