elish92

[vcrnons]

i just want you, i need you.

[voltagesmutter]

Kiro x MC - Uniform

Pairing: Kiro x MC (F).

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice.

Prompt:  Master || Lapdance|| Uniform

Warning: Playful sex, slight dirty talk, Kiro just being a horny boi, internal cum-shot.

Surprise post for @alloveroliver​​ kinktober🎃

Thank you @theinariakuma​​ for being wonderful and beta-ing (again) I owe you so much 💛

Loveland’s military holiday was approaching fast and excitement buzzed through the city. A national holiday that was celebrated for all, a day where all appreciation was sent out to the troops and army. And this year, international superstar Kiro was showing his support with a new music video where all profits went to supporting the families who were part of the army.

It was a big day event that required every single team member to be on top form. The video was very hushed, Kiro not wanting to pull any attention away from the day itself during the build up. Filming would take place in one day on a set, Kiro even managing to wrangle his girlfriend, his beloved Miss.Chips, a spot on the promotion poster as a 50’s pin-up doll. Of course she was flattered to the highest point that Kiro had wanted her rather than a real model, Kiro’s exact words ‘They have nothing compared to your beauty Miss.Chips’. 

So when they arrived, in separate cars to eliminate any suspicion from the hungry, loitering press, on the morning of the shoot she never expected to be whisked away into hair and make up first thing. Her hair curled into loose waves, her fringe pinned back and held in place by a khaki green, small-side cap. Her lips painted with a bold red and a strong black line on her eyes to accentuate her facial features. A skin tight blouse with short sleeves was tucked into a pleated skirt the same colour of her cap, touching just below her mid-thighs whilst a belt brought in the illusion of her always petite waist. Stockings ran up to the edge of her knees, green heels placed on to her feet. A red cravat nestled beneath the collar of her shirt. A true vision of elegance with a sensual touch. 

Kiro found himself utterly distracted as he watched her pose a top of the prop tank that had been made for the shoot. Sitting on it with one knee raised, giving a teasing peak of her skin as the skirt rose up. Her hand in a salute position with a beaming smile on her face. Breathtaking was all he could think.

However she found herself just as distracted by him. A similar style green to the outfit she was wearing clung to him, a button up jacket laced with a gold chain that connected to a sweeping cape, a black buckle belt tightly around his waist. Tight trousers down to his ankle, gold embroidment across the outfit and a lieutenants cap was perfectly placed on his sunshine blonde hair. Power, dominance but most important patriotism radiated from him. Capturing the room as he strided in with a few striking steps. His eyes meeting hers from across the room, the sexual tension between them already pulsing and visible. 

She watched from the side as he paraded across the set, a strong sense of dignity and loyalty packed into the words he was singing. Maturity twisted into a new sense of him. One that suited him. Her eyes fixed on him, flushing slightly during in between takes as Kiro would shoot her a lust filled look or a cheeky wink. Looks that sent arousal straight down to her core and left her panties uncomfortably wet.

-

“You look so beautiful, I can’t believe I pushed to let you do this, this,” A hand ran up her thigh, under her skirt to cup the barely covered round of her ass, “Should be just for me,”.  Kiro appeared from behind causing a little gasp to fall from her mouth. He’d snuck off the set to where she stood watching, pressing himself to her back as he whispered lowly in her ear.

“I can assure you, that this only belongs to you sir,” Her voice wavering slightly as he pinched on her cheeks. A low chuckle masking a groan against her neck, the teasing press of her hips back against his groin. 

“God your making it so hard to keep sight of what I’m doing,” Pressing kisses to her neck, moving both of his hands to hold her waist. The pair hidden from view in the corner of the room, the rest of the cast and crew too busy in changing the set and prompts. “You know, we have about 7 minutes until I’m needed back on set,”.

She turned, her eyes meeting his blazoned ones, lust and need emitting from both of them. 

“Have I told you how much I love a man in uniform?” Pressing her hands to his chest, throwing her head over her shoulder for a quick scan of the room, realising no one was watching them as she slid her hands down to press over the hidden bulge in his trousers. A final check from both of them before they headed off quickly hand in hand down an empty corridor, heading in the direction of the prop room, knowing they would have less chance of being disturbed in there. 

Pulling her tightly to him, kick the door shut behind him as their lips locked. Perfectly pressed red lipstick now smearing over his lips as he tilted her head back to angle the kiss. Her hands already resuming position over his crotch- it had been rapidly hardening the minute he saw her in that outfit. 

He stood proud watching as she pulled back, just about to drop to her knees, her hands already working to undo his belt. His fingers catching her chin to keep standing, “No, I want, I need to be inside you Miss.Chips,”.

Kiro had no doubt she could bring him to a release with just her mouth in under the time they had, she’d done it it many of times before. His favourite when he was on his tour and had three minutes between stage set swaps, her mouth around his cock as she sucked him to completion with only a few seconds left to spare before he had to run back out to a crowd of fans.

"I normally wouldn't mind... But all I want to do is fuck your pretty face." His voice was low, raspy. "And with only five minutes... They'll notice if I ruin all this hard work for your makeup. So we'll save that for after."

Holding her waist he hoisted up into the air, pressing her back against the wall as her legs automatically locked around his waist. 

“You're so wet already Miss.Chips,” His voice huskier than normal as he prodded the wet stained material of her panties, directly beneath her core.

“Kiro… Kiro please,” She whispered, one arm holding onto the back of his neck whilst the other pushed his teasing fingers aside to move her underwear out of the way. “I need you, I need you so badly,”. Her voice was full of desperation, a needing plea as she lost herself into the sky-blue of his eyes. 

“Let me just-“ Pressing a finger to her, ready to sink into her but her hand tugged it away.

“Fuck me, Kiro please just fuck me,” Time was hastily running out.

Her words caused something inside him to snap, primal and urgent needs taking over as let out a low growl. Holding her waist still his other hand freed himself, spitting onto his hand as he coaxed himself with a few pumps before pressing against her. Rather than thrusting up, he pulled her down to be impaled onto his cock, a grin on his face to watch her back arch and a hand to cover her mouth shielding the wanton moans that would have flooded the room.

Kiro let a sly smirk cross his features, "So that's what you want? Don't worry Miss Chips, I'll fuck you so good. You won't be able to think straight when we have to get back out there... But don't worry. I'll make sure to reward you once we get home for being such a good girl." He bounced her with his impressive-strength, one that he rarely used showing his utter need, over his cock whilst he thrusted into her. Time working against them, the seconds counting down fast as Kiro pounded her into the wall. His lips attached to her neck whilst his thumb dropped down to circle tightly over her clit in time to his thrusts. The motion bringing on her orgasm fast and hard, with fair little warning as her walls spasmed over him. A lightly string of curses fell from her mouth, jaw slackened as she tossed the hat off his head to ground herself with one hand tugging at his hair. 

“Kiro-Kiro! Too much..I-” She whimpered, the hand on the back of his head digging her nails into his scalp whilst the other curled into a fist and slammed the solid wall against her. His movements never ceasing, the thumb over her clit continuing to circle the hyper-senstive flesh.

"I know I'm being greedy, Miss Chips... But I need another...".

"A-another?" Her voice, heavy and thick with pleasure and confusion until his actions answered her. “Oh fuck Kiro!” Head thrown back as Kiro threw her head first into another orgasm, walls tightening and pulling him deeply back into her every time he thrusted. Her efforts to keep quiet failed, Kiro holding a complacent grin to see how undone and unraveled she had become and it was all because of him. 

Her release brought on his own as her muscles pulsed over him, his lips crashing down on hers to capture the moans of both of them. An attempt to keep their noise to a minimum, her cries of pleasure would have lured more attention than he’d have liked secretly praying no one, Savin, heard them. 

“I got you baby, I got you,” He whispered between kisses, pulling his thumb away from her clit as her after-shocks and trembles eased. Both her hands grasping onto his shoulders, mixed breathes struggling to regain their normality as they stilled in their position. Both of them savouring the blissful feeling of their afterglow for a few seconds before he finally pulled his softened cock out of her. A thick trail of their mixed releases slowly leaked from her abused hole, Kiro moving her underwear in place to try keep it from spreading across her thighs. Although the top of them were purely soaked with messy arousal, the scent of sex dancing across her lower half. 

“Good girl Miss.Chips,” Kiro continued to kiss her softly as he put her legs down on the ground, they were still trembling as she continued to cling to him for support. He thumbed under her eyes to wipe the small trail of mascara that collected on her skin from her watery eyes, wiping them over her mouth to remove the smudge of her rouge lips and helped sort out their outfits. He grabbed his hat she had thrown off of him, taking his hand in hers before guiding them to leave the prop room, a low whisper as he told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep all my promises for being such a good girl, I promise I’ll make you scream as soon as we’re finished here.” 

Kinktober masterlist here.

[elderbwrry]

The White Hound

When Hux becomes Supreme Leader, one of his first orders is to put Kylo in white. He didn't realise it would be quite so inconveniently distracting.

From discussions with @kyberkills about Adam Driver in white on the set of Gucci.

Tags: Mature audiences, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, assorted very minor ocs, Supreme Leader Armitage Hux, Hound Kylo Ren, some violence, kylo does do a murder, a TEENSY bit of Beheading, but it is not the focus, Denial of Feelings, Married Couple, Blood, sex mention, fashion of the First Order, one day that'll be a real tag i swear *shakes fist at god*, the first order have only heard of three colours ever

Wordcount: 1913 - also on ao3

Hux narrowed his eyes.

The Magistrate in front of him was droning on and on, and had been for the last half hour. Ordinarily, Hux enjoyed a bit of grovelling, but the issue of it was that she was notgrovelling, she was delivering a very carefully worded monologue about the lengths her government was willing to go to in order to comply with the First Order's expanding jurisdiction over the Galaxy. It was too well put together, and Hux could already tell that nothing she was going to promise – once she finally got to her point – would be comprehensive enough for Hux to accept. He demanded submission. He demanded absolute order.

Still, perhaps she would surprise him, besides which it would be better to hear her entire point before rebuffing her, and, as Supreme Leader, time was Hux's to command.

On his left, the Praetorian Guard swapped their spear from their left to right hand. The Magistrate's eyes flicked over to the guard at their movement, and both of her own guards tensed, though they had been removed of their ranged weapons when they arrived. Hux shifted to lean on the other armrest of his throne, his arm poised on its elbow, his hand lazily positioned in the air. The Magistrate refocussed, evidently understanding Hux's subtle message that he should be displeased were she to disrespect his gracious attention, but it was the first crack Hux had noticed in her collected facade.

Of course, Hux knew what she didn't; the guards were exemplarily trained, and that particular movement was the signal of disturbance on the surface levels of the vast mega-ship which served as Hux's seat of command.

Hux readied himself in case the disturbance grew more serious, the Magistrate's words becoming thinner and thinner to his hearing as he mentally constructed the likeliest cause for this correlation of events; she was merely a distraction, her escort ship a vehicle for whatever forces were acting out this misguided plan.

It was a pity – he really had hoped she would surprise him.

Another slight adjustment of grip on the spear of his guard told him Ren was on his way. The knowledge inspired in Hux a sense of satisfaction, which he put down purely to that of knowing his hound had swiftly dealt with the issue.

The Magistrate was still talking. Her government's armies would be powerful enough to cause a problem, which was why Hux had been hoping for a diplomatic transition of power, but now there was little choice other than to take the system by force. And here she'd given him the opportunity, Hux mused as he smoothed down his blood red tunic.

The door at the far end of the throne room swished open, and immediately Ren was marching his way down the central aisle, stormtroopers at his heels along with one of his own knights, and, for one glorious moment, they were a vision all in white. He looked serious, his chin lowered as he glowered forward, his dark hair sweeping back due to the speed with which he was advancing through the otherwise static climate-controlled air. His alabaster robes gleamed in the strip lights. Hux himself had approved the uniform redesign that placed Ren in his current long culottes and figure-flattering shirt, stripped of the cape, the helmet, the things he hid behind before Hux took power. Ren had complained – about the style and the unfamiliar colour and many other things besides – but eventually caved under Hux's pressure; after all, what was grander than a besuited knight in white?

Quite suddenly, Hux found himself surging to his feet. Red – blood red – red, all over Ren's right hand, shoulder, hem, boots. Was he hurt? What had he done to get so filthy with it?

Hux was distracted, so, when the Magistrate drew a pistol and pointed it directly at him, the first he knew of it was the clankof the Praetorian Guards' armour, the warning cry of “Supreme Leader!” and the growl of Ren and his lightsaber igniting. Hux had only time to stare down the barrel of the weapon and consider exactly what he might die from, before the electric flash of the sabre split the air between the Magistrate's head and body and everything in between.

In the background, two further sounds of blaster fire were directed at the Magistrate's guards, along with a buzz of trooper commands and heavy booted footfalls as they surrounded the enemy, who were variously stunned and dead. Hux allowed himself a moment to look at the bodies and consider what would have to be done. Then, he mentally postponed that consideration and turned to Ren, whose chest was heaving as he stepped around the body, closer to Hux, but without taking his eyes off what he'd done.

Hux descended a step, his cloak swishing behind him, but one was all that was needed before Ren was right in front of him, seemingly only reassured that Hux was safe by proximity. Hux paused, hoping Ren wouldn't pull him into some kind of unwanted embrace – he didn't want to get blood on his robes – yet bracing for it somewhat eagerly.

“What is the situation?” he asked.

“Resistance,” came the gritted reply.

Hux raised an eyebrow. “They weren't her government's forces?” The potential ramifications of this were reeling through his mind, so the question was more to himself, but Ren nodded anyway.

“I recognised some of them. They must be desperate, to send such veteran members on a mission like this.”

Ren's tone caught at Hux. It was pained, more so than usual. For someone who had killed so many people and betrayed so many others, Kylo could get awfully trapped in the emotion of some single, awful actions. His lightsaber was still crackling at his side, scorching a mark into Hux's immaculate stairs. “Ren,” Hux prompted, modulating his tone to be more compassionate. It still sounded canned, but at least he was trying.

Ren didn't respond.

Frowning, Hux reached his gloved hand out to Ren's bare, bloodied one, fingers trailing over his raised, tightly gripping knuckles. Something akin to concern found its way into Hux's throat this time as he repeated, “Kylo?”

The lightsaber died at the same time Ren's attention snapped away from where the stormtroopers were quickly moving the body, to Hux. “She almost shot you.”

Hux's head quirked; was that what this show of emotion was about? Ren had looked so furious when he'd attacked the Magistrate. The intensity of Hux's emotions did not match, either for his own life or for Ren, but something inside him felt off, like data buffering, at the reminder that Ren cared so much.

The memory of their marriage ceremony remained fresh in Hux's mind; he thought about it often for this exact reason. Ren had been draped in white then too, and gold and jewels and lace and rare flowers. He had been radiant, especially with how much more meaning had flowed through his vows than Hux had been able to inject into his own. At the time, Hux had absently thought that Ren deserved to say his vows to someone who actually loved him, but hadn't much cared. Indeed, for himself the whole exercise was one of cementing his claim to the throne via marriage to Snoke's heir, something which he thought Ren had understood, despite his eager acceptance of the proposal, but since then it had become increasingly, unignorably obvious that Ren loved him. He thought this was real, and that Hux, emotionally reserved with it as he was, loved him back.

Hux had to take some of the blame for that; he'd done nothing to dissuade the idea. He'd played into it, given Ren power and purpose, played the role of husband to it's fullest extent. He'd gone through all the motions – nothing that he hadn't done before, really – except that the act was getting harder. When Ren played with Millie, Hux had to stop himself from smiling. When Ren stepped unselfconsciously out of the shower, Hux had to avert his eyes and suppress a blush. When Ren lavished adoration onto his body, the shudders he sent through Hux felt all too real.

Now, too, Hux had to tell himself that he was acting out of expectation, because his subjects were watching, when he took another step down to Ren's level and, holding him gently by the elbows, looked over the blood splatters, asking with too much concern, “Are you hurt?”

Ren looked down at himself, at the darkening spots of a slaughter over snow, as if only now realising his state. “Oh, no, this isn't mine.”

“Well,” Hux chided, noting that the colour of his red leather gloves was not so dissimilar to the splatters on Kylo's right side, “it would behove you to take more care next time. You'll need new robes, now you've stained these.”

“You could always put me back in black,” Ren objected, but it was laced with something Hux had come to recognise as his flirting voice.

“Never,” Hux said with more vehemence than he intended. He wasn't sure why he was so against it, other than that he loved the way Ren shone in white. No, not loved. Adored? Not right either, both too strong for him to justify to himself. He settled with preferred. “Go get cleaned up,” he ordered, to avoid thinking about it.

Ren's clean hand raised to Hux's waist. Months ago, Hux had had to stop himself from jerking away at such a touch, but now he was used to it, had to stop himself from leaning into it, even. He'd learned Ren's touches well, just as Ren had learned that Hux would not tolerate being touched by his bloody hand, and as such kept it at a distance. “Come do it with me?” Ren asked, lowering his voice and whispering into Hux's ear, “You know fighting makes me horny”.

Hux shook his head. No, he had plenty to be getting on with; planning the offensive on the Magistrate's home star system, minimising the fallout and outrage from the remaining systems who had yet to join the First Order, tracking the origin of the Resistance members. Still, the head shake was more firm than it would have been if he wasn't thoroughly tempted.

Ren let out an annoyed exhale. “Fine,” he said, and, barely a moment later, Hux was tugged forward into a firm kiss which gave just enough of a taste of hunger that Hux was under no illusions as to what Ren meant when he pulled away and said, “I'll be waiting for you when you're done.”

And maybe Hux was tired, maybe he was shaken by the – rather pedestrian – attempt on his life, but he forgot himself. His hand threaded itself up into the hair at the base of Kylo's neck, thinking how soft it would feel if it weren't for the gloves and drawing him in for another, more lingering kiss this time, one that tasted of the surprised little noise Kylo let out. This time, when they separated, it was as if Kylo's gorgeous white robes had been tinted with the crimson of Hux's; his own colour, rather than the blood of their enemies. The image seared itself into Hux's retina, and promised to be the only thing he could think about until he next saw Kylo. The white really did make the red come out nicely.

“I'll be there soon.”

[portgasdacer]

Better When It Feels Wrong: R18*

Gojo Satoru/ F!Reader: Public sex.

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

"You nearly done in there, babe?"

Gojo's voice drifts into the changing booth as you shimmy into the last of a few dresses that had caught your eye, the number shorter and more snug than the others previously had been. It wasn't something you usually wore. Mini dresses weren't really your forte, but the velvet-touch fabric and colour had called out to you and you were nothing if not willing to try it on for size (even if you did end up feeling ridiculous in the thing afterwards.)

It clings to your frame, as expected, and you smooth any wrinkles out of the fabric, giving yourself a once over in the large mirror that accounted for the majority of the wall, before turning to examine the fit from the side. Your tummy is more accentuated, something you notice immediately with a frown, hand sliding down over the flesh as if it will make it disappear. It doesn't, however, of course it doesn't, and you give a disappointed little sigh. The dress really was gorgeous, and you'd hoped dearly that you would like it-

"Were you swallowed by the floor or somethin', why did you igno-... wow."

You throw an irate look at Gojo's reflection, his face visible above your shoulder. His eyes are concealed by his shades, as they usually are when his uniform has been ditched, but you can feel his stare piercing into you. You'd thought locking the door with him outside to stand guard was unnecessary. Evidently, such precautions should have been taken to stop your guardian barging in unwanted himself.

"Don't get too excited," you huff, "I'm not getting it."

"What?" He exclaims as if you'd just told him the most awful news imaginable, dumping the shopping bags holding your current hall on the floor and shuffling up closer behind you, "why not?"

"It doesn't suit me."

Gojo tuts, large hands finding purchase on your waist from behind, and he stoops down tuck his lips near your ear, purring out a sultry little, "I think it does," before pressing a soft kiss to the shell of your ear, and dropping his chin to your shoulder. The complement has warmth rushing under your cheeks, something you ignore because really, he doesn't need his ego scratched, and you give yourself another look over in the mirror. He does too.

"You really think so?"

"Wouldn't say it if it weren't so, sugar." His hands are sliding forward now. Gone from their position on your waist, forward and down to settle over your hips. Heat radiates through your skin in little pulses and somewhere in the back of your mind you curse Gojo Satoru for being so effortlessly seductive. His head turns, nestling into your neck as his lips find your skin, leaving light little kisses that make you tingle. And you want to tell him to stop, really you do because this is a changing room, there's people just outside, but you're transfixed as you watch him with shallow breaths in the mirror. You'd never seen him this way before. Of course, you had been intimate with the man more times than you could count (it was Gojo, after all) but you had only ever seen the things he did to you through your own eyes. And something about the way you can see now with a perfect view how his lips skim your shoulder in the reflection has you weak.

Bright blue eyes catch your own behind his shades, and a grin that's far too smug stretches across his lips. Those stupid, sinful lips.

"You wanna watch, pretty girl?"

There's a lump in your throat. You know you shouldn't do this. God forbid any of the workers at the store were keeping tabs on who came and left the changing rooms, you knew it wouldn't be long until you were caught out. It was unsanitary, some poor bastard was going to unwittingly use the exact same stall when you left, and yet-

You nod. Gojo's chest vibrates against your back with a chuckle, and with a quick kiss to your head, he's withdrawing from you.

He takes a few steps back, and sits down on the bench behind him, inviting you over with a patting hand on his thigh. You take the invitation eagerly, a bubbling sensation of exhilaration and anxiety creeping into your gut. He makes sure to seat you facing the mirror, long arms threading around your front pulling your thighs apart. The tight dress hikes up to your hips as he does it, clothed cunt completely visible to him in the mirror. His voice is at your ear again, hushed and authoritative.

"I'd love to draw this out, sweet thing, but we're under a time constraint." His slender fingers creep up to your inner thigh, giving a playful little squeeze before he's hooking two digits into your underwear, pulling the thin material to the side. You're wet, obscenely so and you can see it. He can see it as he keeps your legs spread wide, "well, look at you," his voice is barely above a mumble, "naughty naughty." His tone is chastising but you know he delights in how stupidly eager you get for him, and you smother a gasp by digging your teeth into your lower lip as he drags his middle finger from your entrance to your clit. He rubs the sensitive bud a handful of times in little circles, before sliding his finger back down and-

Your hand clamps over your mouth as he sinks two digits knuckle deep into your pussy, crooking them upwards. You can feel the pressure behind your clit, body growing hot way too quickly. Gojo just hushes a laugh into your ear.

"I know I said we were rushed for time, baby, but damn. You don't even make me work for it," his voice trails off into a sneer at the end, and your own voice threatens to leave your throat again. You know he's right, you're far too easy for him, but you can't help it. Especially now, as you watch him in the mirror with hazy eyes as his fingers slide in and out of your needy cunt, because you know his eyes are there too, even if you can't see them behind his tinted lenses.

"Satoru..."

It's a breathy whisper of his name as you move your hand away from your mouth, and his eyes flit from where his fingers are sunk into you to your face. He can see the desperation clear as day, and God if it doesn't make his cock strain harder than it already is in his pants. The thrill of it all, of knowing he has you at his every whim, right there, somewhere so public and dangerous has his blood rushing with something he can't quite put a name to.

His digits leave you with barely audible slick sound, and he pats one of your thighs with a little command of "up," so he can access his belt and zipper. His trousers and boxers are shucked down to mid-thigh, and he stands behind you. Gojo catches you slightly off-guard when he snags both of your wrists in one ridiculously large hand, pinning both of your arms to your back and coaxing you to lean forward slightly. You give a small sound of protest as your centre of gravity is thrown off, his other hand tugging your hips back so your ass is presented to him.

The feeling of his chest on your back is there again, smooth voice rough at your ear one more time.

"You keep your eyes on that mirror for me, yeah?"

"M-Mhm."

"That's my girl."

He's straightened out and sinking into you before you can even get a fucking breath in, knocking any and all air straight from your lungs as he slides his cock into you in its entirety. His own breath leaves him shakily as he bottoms out, hips snug to your behind, fingers flexing around your wrists. A wanton little whine leaves you before you can stop it, entirely captivated by the sight of him and yourself in your reflection and Gojo murmurs a low, "you've gotta be quiet for me, pretty girl," before pulling his hips back.

They roll forward again, slowly as not to make any sound, and another whine of pleasure dies in your throat. He sets the pace, slow but deep, and you can feel every inch of his cock as it forces your cunt to stretch for him. He uses his grip on your wrists and hip for leverage, making you fuck back onto him with every forward drive of his hips, until he catches a spot inside you that has a louder than smart whimper tearing itself from you.

Gojo stops at the sound, focusing his acute hearing to gauge any indication you were heard. When no angry voices or knocks at the door come, he curses under his breath, removing his hand from your hip and reaching forward.

The sensation of his fingers in your mouth isn't a new one, but it catches you off guard all the same.

"If you're not gonna keep your voice down like a good girl, then suck. We can't have anyone hearing you, sugar."

You don't have a chance to respond as he starts fucking you again in earnest (not that you could have with his fingers in your mouth) movements shallow in a final bid to minimize the noise. You look fucked out as your teary eyes focus on the mirror again and you haven't even cum yet, drooling around his fingers as you do nothing but take it, pussy squeezing and sucking on his cock like a vice. You can tell he's struggling to keep his own voice down, breath staggering and stopping every now and then as he drowns every possible grunt and groan before it can surface. You can see his jaw flex and tighten as he clenches his teeth, and you wished you could have seen his eyes.

You don't realise you're close to cumming until you're there, far too dizzy on the sight of him to focus, but Gojo can feel it. The way your walls twitch, your body trembles. He's unsure if you realise your breath stops when you're on the edge, but he does, and his voice is rough and low in his throat when he talks.

"You gonna cum, sweet thing? Yeah you are, I can feel it. Come on, baby, cum for me."

You do as he says, not that you had much control over it. If it hurts him when your teeth bare down on his fingers, he doesn't show it, instead opting to fuck you through your orgasm until he's right there with you, hips stalling as he empties himself into your pussy with a hushed groan; grinding his cock deeper, forcing you to take all that he had to give.

Neither of you move for a moment, and you finally take a second to close your eyes. You stay that way until you feel his hand loosen on your arms, fingers withdrawing from between your lips. He fixes your underwear back into place and helps you to right yourself, turning you to face him and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"You good?" He mumbles, hands smoothing down over your arms and you nod.

"Help me get this off?"

He does just that, removing the dress from you and putting it back on its hanger while you put back on the clothes you had came out in. He throws a fleeting question of if you want the others dresses too since, obviously, you were going to have to buy the one he had just fucked you in. You answer in affirmatory, grabbing the other bags and turning to open the stall door when you think you look presentable enough. You pause.

"Satoru?"

Your boyfriend hums as he also checks himself out one last time.

"You didn't lock the door."

"Huh?" Gojo turns and looks at the lock of the stall door. Still as unlocked as it was when he came barging in, and blinks, before barking out an amused laugh.

"Oh man, it's a good thing no one came through here, huh? Can you imagine if someone had walked in-"

The slap to the arm you try and dish him is stopped short by his infinity, and you meet his offended pout with a little glare that promises you'll catch him off guard sooner or later.

"I'll kill you." You grumble as you open the door, marching out towards the registers.

"What?" He's laughing again as he trails after you, "you had fun!"

[tazmuir]

Hello! I loved Gideon the Ninth so much!! and would like to draw fan art, would you mind sharing any helpful summaries of what each character looks like? or must us fans hunt through the book for every offhand line of description? (not that I'm not planning on rereading it anyway)

I have let myself drift back onto Tumblr after two weeks, am deeply affrighted and excited at the idea that anyone has drawn my kids (I had an AMA on Reddit and as said there, my editor every so often hollered into my inbox about amazing shit people were doing, but I was too busy complaining back to him that my face had gone numb and that I no longer slept, but instead the darkness of the grave claimed me for four to five hours each night). Thank you so much to anyone who has already done this. Many people on my team have yelled and yelled.

Back early on in the piece I made a document for him about what characters looked like in terms of basic ideas/outlines for copyediting, covers and sense purposes, and I’ve dug out that document and slapped it up here for general delectation. As a note: I imagine specific things when it comes to my characters (I am a Kiwi: I write Kiwis In Space as a default) but as I have nothing but joy in my heart for how anyone would want to draw these characters, feel free to glance over this, then toss it out the window. It would bring tears of beauty to my eyes if anyone was like “Yes, but when I was reading I imagined Naberius Tern as a huge monitor lizard,” because absolutely yes, Naberius Tern was just a huge monitor lizard, godspeed.

I had only described below the specific cavalier-necromancer pairs, so that’s what you’ll find below, sorry if anyone wanted Teacher.

SECOND HOUSE

The only ones who seemed even vaguely compos mentis were the Second House: as it turned out, they had been the ones to call Teacher to the access hatch, and now they sat ramrod-straight and resplendent in their Second-styled Cohort uniforms, all scarlet and white. They both affected the same tightly-braided hairstyle and the same amount of extremely gilt braid, and also the same serious-business expression, and they could be told apart by one having a rapier and one quite a lot of pips at her collar.

Captain Judith Deuteros and Lieutenant Marta Dyas are alike in posture, bearing and extremely crisp military uniform (think a cross between US Navy whites and the Regency navy). Unlike every single other necromancer on the cast, Judith never wears necromancer robes, but is dressed in the exact same way as Marta. Judith is somewhat less completely scrawny than other necromancers on the cast, though she should be less built than Marta is; Judith is imposing, solemn-faced and reflective, Marta is more keen-eyed and restless. I imagined both as Tongan.

THIRD HOUSE

[Coronabeth] was tall and regal, with some radiant, butterfly quality – her shirt was haphazardly tucked into her trousers, which were haphazardly tucked into her boots, but she was all topaz and shine and lustre. All necromancers affected robes in the same way cavaliers affected swords, but she hadn’t tucked her arms into hers, and it was a gauzy, gold-shot, transparent thing floating out around her like wings. There were about five rings on each hand and her earrings would’ve put chandeliers to shame, but she had an air of wild and innocent overdecoration, of having put on the prettiest things in her jewellery box and then forgetting to take them off. Her buttery hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and she kept tangling a curl of it in one finger and artlessly letting it go.

The second twin was like someone had taken the first to pieces and put her back again without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but wore it like a very beautiful shroud on a mummy. The cavalier had lots of hair, an aquiline face, and a self-satisfied little jacket.

Coronabeth is massive, taller even than Palamedes, larger-than-life – statuesque, very bright gold hair, golden/bright skin, violet eyes. Ianthe is the same height but gangly and washed out. Skin colour defined heavily in Corona’s case as golden/olive-hued brown/tanned; Ianthe similar, but less radiant/more pallid whatever the case. Both have long hair: Corona’s should be big and bouncy, Ianthe’s flat/sleek.Naberius is shorter than both, brown-haired (brown can be light, medium or dark, it’s not defined) and blue-brown hazel eyes. Also has lots of hair, cut short, but sense of pompadour/waves. I imagined all three as Pakeha/white.FOURTH HOUSEBoth Isaac and Jeannemary are around fourteen and have pretty much the same body shape still: Jeannemary is semi-muscular and has lots of corners, Isaac is skinnier. Both are natural brunettes, though Isaac has bleached hair (orange, fauxhawk) and Jeannemary is described as having curly hair. Both have multiple ear piercings and eyeliner and the visual is somewhat Glassons storecard punk. Both have dark brown eyes. Jeannemary has a somewhat dusty, fierce, monochromatic appearance (brown hair, brown skin), and I imagine her as Māori. Isaac I imagined as NZ Chinese.FIFTH HOUSEMagnus Quinn is a man in his middling to late thirties, with short, curly hair: he is a frank-faced, nice-looking guy of medium build with a face inclined to wholesome smiles. His outfits should be absolutely exceptionally well-tailored and not very flashy. Imagined him as Samoan. His wife Abigail is perpetually neat, wears round spectacles and has long, glossy dark brown hair – she is the least described of a cast not very specifically described. Much like Magnus, she should always be beautifully and tastefully dressed, though in her case she would affect trousers as well as a robe. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.

SIXTH HOUSECrouching in front of the hatch was a rangy, underfed young man: he was wrapped in a grey cloak and the light glinted on the spectacles slipping down his nose. Standing next to him holding a big wedge of broken sculpture and the flashlight was a tall, equally grey-wrappered figure with a scabbard outlined at her hip. She had hair of an indeterminate darkness, cut blunt at her chin.Up close, he was gaunt and ordinary-looking, except for the eyes. His spectacles were set with lenses so thick they could make spaceflight grade, and through these his eyes were a perfectly lambent grey: unflecked, unmurked, even and clear. He had the eyes of a very beautiful person, and the head of someone with resting bitch face.

Palamedes is seriously underfed with a bony, thin face and glasses: medium brown hair cut short and with no particular thought for aesthetics, dresses just in greys, eyes particularly lovely clear grey. Camilla has very dark cold-brown hair – chin-length, straight and with a fringe – dark eyes. She’s compact and has lots of lean muscle, and I imagine her of being Middle Eastern extraction, though due to Sixth House parameters both will be fairly mixed. They’re actually second cousins, so there ought to be a faint resemblance.

SEVENTH HOUSE[Dulcinea] was a slender young thing whose mouth was a brilliant red with blood: her dress was a frivolous concoction of seafoam green frills, and the blood on it seemed more somber against such a backdrop. Her skin seemed transparent – horribly transparent, with the veins at her hands and the sides of her temples a visible cluster of mauve branches and stems. Her eyes fluttered open: they were huge and blue, with velvety brown lashes.

Dulcinea is a girlish woman who looks extremely fragile and sickly, like a neurasthenic Victorian maiden. Eyes should be extremely blue. Hair is light brown in long curls; skin is pale. Pretty in a frivolous, invalid way. Gives the impression of being slight. Outfits should be gauzy and nightgownish. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.

The man who’d put the sword to her neck was uncomfortably buff. He had upsetting biceps. He looked like a collection of lemons in a sack. He didn’t look healthy; he was a dour, bulky young person, whose skin had something of the strange, translucent tinge that the girl’s had. He was waxen-looking in the sunlight […] He was dressed richly, but with clothes that looked as though they’d seen practical wear: a long cape of greyish-green, and a belted kilt and boots. There was a long, shining length of etched chain rolled up and over his arm, and a big one-handed sword hung at his hip.

Protesilaus is massive, buff, and also sort of sickly and indistinct-looking in his colouring – he is described as being made up mainly of muddy, ashen browns. Think Greek warrior, but with no vibrant colouring. Biggest on cast, even bigger than Colum Ash. Imagined him as mixed Pasifika.

EIGHTH HOUSEIt was a pair who were both boys – well – a boy and a man; one was a wan, knife-faced kid dressed in antiseptic whites and useless chainmail you could cut with a fork, it was so delicate. [Silas] was draped in it even down to a kilt, which was strange: necromancers didn’t normally wear that kind of armour, and he was definitely the necromancer. He had necromancer build. […] He gave the impression of being absolutely no fun at all. He was prim and ascetic-looking, and his companion – who was older, a fair bit older than Gideon herself – had the air of the perpetually disgruntled. He was rather more robust, nuggety, and dressed in chippy bleached leathers that looked as though they’d seen genuine use. One finger on his left hand was just a gross-looking stump, which she admired.

Silas is in his teens, has shoulder-length white hair in a braid and dark eyes. He has extremely pale skin, and coupled with the white robes and silver chainmail (all of which somewhat swamp him – he’s sort of slender and purse-mouthed) gives the impression of being arrestingly white all over. Pointy chin, oval face, disapproving expression, a little insubstantial. Colum, his older, larger nephew is much taller, broader and in his early thirties. He has medium brown hair in a short back’n’sides crop, dark eyes, and appears jaundiced in skin tone – he’s very weatherbeaten and tan-skinned, scarred, and though he’s dressed in the same colours he tends to contrast heavily with them and his leather armour is also beaten-up. He looks tatty and ill-used, expression is apathetic or forbidding; Silas always looks perfectly clean, crisp and white. Facially there should be a similarity. They’re both Pakeha, with Silas being significantly the palest person on-cast.

NINTH HOUSEThe light fell on [Harrow’s] painted grey face and black-daubed chin, and her short-cropped, dead-crow-coloured hair. […] She had such a peculiarly pointed little face, high-browed and tippy everywhere, and a slanted and vicious mouth.

Harrow is a scrawny teenage girl with black hair cut short (as befits someone in a monastery) and truly black eyes: she never appears except in black and white skull facepaint. She has a pointed, rather triangular face, not very long, a triangular heart rather than a triangular diamond or oval. She wears black robes and long-sleeved, long-trousered clothes – all black – with no skin showing: the main decoration on this is bones. She wears a corset of rib bones and could have any other bone decoration, which has been written of in the book as bone bangles and multiple bone stud piercings in the ears. She’s more femme-androgynous than outright butch; in Book 1 she’s a bit birdlike and free of specific masc or femme gender markers in terms of outfit or build. I imagined her as being mixed Māori.Gideon is true butch: tall of height – at least, taller than Harrow – extremely, shreddedly fit with the muscular arms of a swordswoman or boxer. She should have a strong-jawed, boyishly pretty face with a big douchebag grin. Cropped hair same as Harrow, except that hers as an oblate is more of an in-your-face mop (could be partly-shaved except that implies more care than Gideon possesses) and is intensely, vividly red.  I envision her as mixed Māori, darker-skinned than Harrow.  She also wears skull facepaint, though hers tends to be much less careful and baroque than Harrow’s. She often affects a pair of black aviator sunglasses. She wears the same black cloak as Harrow, without any decoration, and a plain black shirt and trousers underneath. Her eyes are an extremely vivid amber with more of a yellow/golden tint than a russet one.  

[turinn]

Naive

Ray Blackwell x M!Reader

Summary: An invitation at a party reveals that Luka had no idea you’re gay, and brings up a concern you hadn’t had before. Tags: Crack, fluff, secret relationship, mention of homophobia, alcohol consumption A/N: This is based on a dream I had where Luka and I had this exact conversation and when I woke up and remembered it I nearly threw up laughing. I did actual research for the girls outfit and hair bc im a fashion history nerd. the pocket watch i just thought was cute. Fenrir calls the reader fruity but its okay bc hes gay too god bless Word Count: 1.5k

The party was the usual affair expected of the Godspeed's, an air of elegance- present but not too overbearing- hanging over the large hall. Music drifted gently to your ears as you took everything in, a small smile settling on your face.

You couldn't help but feel a little underdressed. The officers had, of course, kept their uniforms on, but everyone else present was dressed to the nines. You'd thought the suit you wore was lovely when you and Seth had seen it last week, dark blue with a white trim, paired with a pale cyan tie and pocket square. The gold watch that settled comfortably in your pocket had been a gift from Blanc, supposedly made by Oliver to look similar to his own, to commemorate your decision to stay in Cradle. Compared to everyone else, it felt rather simple now, but you pushed the thought aside. Nobody was judging what you were wearing, they were here to enjoy themselves same as you.

"Would you like a drink?" Ray asked, voice soft enough not to startle you too much. This wasn't too effective, as you'd gotten lost in your thoughts, and sort of forgotten there were people around you, but it was kind of him to try. "Oh, yes, please." You smiled at him and a moment later he'd walked off, talking to Sirius about something, leaving you alone with Luka. Fenrir had disappeared to greet his family when you'd first arrived, and Seth was who knows where, but you didn't mind it being just the two of you. Luka rarely came to these, in fact this was the first he'd been to since you'd arrived in Cradle, despite it being your fifth, and you decided someone should stick with him so he didn't feel quite as nervous.

As you turned to say something to him, you noticed a lady making her way over to the both of you, looking rather flustered. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she seemed to be muttering something to herself, but it was clear she had intent to speak to one of you. Perhaps she wanted to talk to Luka? He was cute, it wouldn't surprise you. What did surprise you, however, was when she walked up to you instead.

"Um, excuse me if this is far too forward, but... would you be interested in dancing with me?" She sounded so nervous, and you almost wanted to say yes. Any other man would have been lucky to get such an invitation- she looked stunning. She wore her hair in curls, gathered at the back of her neck, with a hairpiece of pale blue flowers was pinned at the front, a necklace donning the same type of flower hanging just above the neckline of her gown. The gown in question matched the colour of the flowers well, though the width of the crinoline supported skirt would have made you concerned about the logistics of dancing with her- if you'd had any intention of saying yes. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she chewed her bottom lip and waited for your answer, avoiding your gaze. A hand on your chest and a sincerely apologetic look on your face, you began to respond. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry, but you seem to have gotten the wrong end of the stick. You're a very attractive young lady but I'm afraid... how should I put this," You glanced at Luka for help, but he seemed to have no idea what you were trying to tell her, "I'm afraid I don't tend to set my eye on the ladies, so to speak." "You're... gay?" A sympathetic nod. "That's the ticket. Sorry, love." "Oh, it's not a problem! I'm really sorry to have bothered you!" She suddenly looked much less nervous, though a little embarrassed, and scurried off. You sighed. "I feel a little bad. I really hope she finds someone to dance with." Luka looked at you quizzically. "Why did you lie to her?" A confused laugh escaped you. "I'm sorry?" "You told her you were into guys. Why lie?" As he said this, Seth and Fenrir came up behind him, and hearing his question their eyebrows shot up. So did yours. Was he kidding? "Luka, sweetie, you have got to tell me what part of my personality made you think I was heterosexual, so I can set about changing it immediately." Seth choked on his drink, and though you flashed him a grin, you weren't entirely kidding. Going from Victorian London to a world where being gay was perfectly acceptable had been quite the change, but you'd been certain all of your friends had known. It's not like you were quiet about it, and sure, Luka was naive but... come on, now. "Wait are you... you were being honest?" "Yes?" "Luka," Fenrir began, stepping next to you and resting an elbow on your shoulder, "How have you seriously not noticed that he's gay yet?" "Well- there was no reason for me to assume!" "You watched me drunk make out with at least 2 different Black Army soldiers in my first month here!" Luka looked flustered, and utterly dumbfounded. The expression was one he wore often, usually when people insinuated that someone was in love- but somehow about five times more confused. He was unfortunate enough that Ray and Sirius returned at this moment, just in time to hear both your last remark, and his next one.

"I thought that was just something you did when you were drunk?" In another moment you were on your knees, legs shaking so much from laughter that you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. Fenrir was right there beside you, practically convulsing. Everyone else was laughing too- except poor Luka. You felt a little bad, truly you did, but this had to be the funniest thing you had ever heard. "He's completely straight, but watch out! Get a couple drinks in him and he turns fruity!" Fenrir managed to get out between cackles, and Ray was glad to have put your drinks down when Luka had last spoken, because he too nearly fell to the ground at this.

"Luka- Luka I'm sorry." You pulled yourself to your feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We aren't laughing at you." Another fit of giggles overcame you. "Okay we kind of are, but it's not malicious or anything. That was just... hands down the funniest thing you've ever said." It took most of you 5 or so minutes to fully calm down from what he'd said, and anything that jogged your memories of it would bring you back to a state of uncontrollable laughter for the rest of the night. Luka came round to it being pretty funny after you talked him through the dozens of times you'd mentioned your sexuality to him since you'd met- every one of which had gone over his head.

Hours after the party had worn down and you'd all made your way home, you lay in bed, your head pressed against a familiar chest, and sighed. "What's up?" "I just... D'you think anyone else just hasn't realised?" Ray cocked his head, confused. "I'm gonna need a little more info than that, kitten." "I suppose I just... Back in London, it's not even legal to be gay, and I don't know if it ever will be. When I first came out to Fen, he told me that it was fine here, accepted and even celebrated. So, I guess I just thought that people wouldn't make the automatic assumption that I'm straight, y'know? I mean I talk about it a lot among you guys but- when I’m out and about... where do people think my final destination is? When I pick up a silly cat themed gift for you does the shopkeep think I’m buying it for my wife? It shouldn't be a big deal, I guess, but I'd never been able to be myself until I came here, and now it's like I can be me but... people will still only see who I am if I tell them. It's just weird is all. I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk." "You're not drunk. It's an understandable concern. I guess I've never thought about it, because whether or not people would accept that part of me has never been an issue, but the fact that you've had to hide it for so long and now that you're able to be open people still aren't seeing it must be hard. If you want we could... come out, so to speak?" Your eyebrows raised, and you moved back, propping yourself up on your arm so you could look your partner in the eyes.

It had been decided at the very start of your relationship, which had officially begun a few months after you'd made the choice to stay in Cradle, that the two of you would keep it under wraps for a while. Being from the Land of Reason was more than enough reason for people to take an unwanted interest in you, and you didn't need the extra attention being the King of Spades' partner would garner. Plus, anyone with a grudge against Ray would see you as a target the second you announced it. It had been a sensible suggestion on his part, one you hadn't hesitated to agree to, and as far as you knew only Sirius and Fenrir knew about your relationship. Fenrir because he had walked in on you sitting in Ray's lap while he worked late one night, and Sirius because- well, can anything get past that guy? And now, Ray was offering to tell the entirety of Cradle you were his, just so that you didn't feel like you were hiding your identity anymore? You could feel your eyes starting to burn, and you cursed the late hour and the alcohol in your system for making you cry so easily, but... "I don't think we need to be that drastic. You were right when you said it would keep me safe for us to not be in the public eye, at least for now. I'm sure Seth can come up with some better way for me to tell the whole world I'm gay." "I don't doubt that at all." Ray grinned, placing a gentle kiss on first your forehead, then your nose, and finally on your lips. "Tomorrow, though. You need your beauty sleep." "Ah, yeah, can't risk getting ugly. My boyfriend might not want me anymore." You quipped. "Exactly." He smirked at you, turning out the light and pulling you into his arms.

[1-800-seo]

1-800-𝗦𝗘𝖮'𝘀 𖣘 "𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 (𝗨𝗻𝗶)𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲"

- 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗑 𝖸/𝖭

- 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄/𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖽/𝖾2𝗅/𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾 𝖠𝖴

- 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌), 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗃𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

- 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 2984

- 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗑𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ���𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗄.

doing laundry is absolutely one of your least favourite things in the world beside soggy socks

so you’re in a bad mood as soon as you walk into the campus launderette to say the least

the launderette is empty bar one dude you’d seen around the global technics centre

if you remember rightly he’s a European studies major

odd choice but you do you and all that

now you’re not weird or anything but you have a preference on what type of washing machine you use

I know I know kind of unorthodox

but the old washing machines take 30 mins longer so you’d prefer a newer one

unfortunately the only one left is directly next to this familiar-faced stranger and his laundry

your better judgement is telling you no but your impatience is telling you yes

and so you dump your laundry onto the floor next to the stranger and his and start sorting through for all your whites

your piles mingle a tad as they overlap beside each other like Venn diagrams of assorted underwear and other garments

his consisting of only whites

yours a jumbled mess since you had to wash all of your stuff

in sync you both pick up your washing and put it into the machine

you catch his dark wide eyes as you both straighten up and he lets out an awkward low-voiced giggle

your cheeks immediately flush pink and a bashful smile creeps up to your lips

“you’re from the global centre, right?”

you ask testing the waters

“I am, I’m a European studies major, my name’s Jungkook. I recognise you, you’re in linguistics class right?”

“Yeah, I’m a linguistics major so you’ll mostly see me there, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook”

you say with a smile as your hands fidget with the door handle of the washing machine

“It’s nice to meet you too, I thought I recognised you from somewhere, but it’s because I see you sometimes when I have to do extra credit European language projects. What’s your name?”

he says tilting his head like a curious puppy

“its ______”

you say as you bow to him politely

“Can I ask you something? I have to do a project on European languages and their similarities to others. The professor wants us to speak to outsiders for references so would I be able to collab on a project with you sometime in the future, if it’s not too much to ask?”

he averts his eyes from yours and blushes lightly

“Oh yeah sure, that’s no issue! It’ll be beneficial to me too because the linguistics portion of the course is coming up soon, so it’s a great idea.”

you beam at him

“Could I get your number?”

their is a pause that feels like an eternity between your next words and his last

the cause of this is your mind being far too focused on his wavy dark hair and his clear doe eyes

you snap out of your daze

“yeah totally, one sec”

you pull out your phone from your backpack on top of the washing machine and input his contact name and number as he reads it out

“Thanks for that, it’ll be a big help, let me know when you want to link up” he replies

and with that you had his number and continued on with your washing

21/10 18:32

Jungkook ༄ : not to be accusatory but do you happen to own a pair of RED socks?

You: yes, why do you ask??

Jungkook ༄ : well ALL of my washing seems to be PINK!!

You: just because I own a pair of red socks doesn’t mean it was me 😠

Jungkook ༄ : yes but you were the only one in the launderette when I was there,,

Jungkook ༄ : smh gonna be turning up to class in pink tshirts and and socks, everyone be thinking ive made a new fashion choices when it’s really just because SOMEONE can’t keep their clothes separate from others B/

You: 1) it’s not my fault that my socks decided to migrate to new lands

You: 2) why, are you scared of pink or something? your ego too fragile to wear a ‘woman’s colour’?

You: 3) did you really use a sunglasses sad face emoticon lol

Jungkook ༄ : girl u owe me big time for all these clothes you ruined 😩

Jungkook ༄ : also im not scared of pink I just dont want to be wearing pink shirts to all of my formal events for the next ten years

Jungkook ༄ : and yes im sWaG so my emoticons are sWaG duh

You : ruined? ruINED? RUINED? I did not ruin anything, I simply spiced up your wardrobe boo x

You : oh no he’s a 2012 hype beast 🤦🏻‍♀️

Jungkook ༄ : how dare you call me something so sacreligious as a hypebeast!!

Jungkook ༄ : I am gucci not channel thank you very much

Jungkook ༄ : anyways I gtg write a report, speak soon red socks

Seen ✓

Jungkook was in fact not writing a report

he was planning revenge dun dun dun~~~

his plan was to do the exact same thing you had done to him

but he had to be cunning about it

and so the week went on

he was scrolling through twt when he received a new follower

it was the one and only @_______

and lo and behold their last tweet was “tysm Seokjin oppa for buying me a personal washing machine,, now I can do my most hated thing but at home!!”

hehehe

an idea sprung into kookie’s head

he didn’t have to try and spike your washing at the launderette

he could do it in a place you’d never suspect,, your home

now he only had to find out where you lived

just stalkerish tingz

he had to be lowkey about this

so he decided to ask his best mate and social butterfly of a friend Taehyung whether he knew you

and of course he did lol

“Hell yeah I know where she lives, she had the best party of the whole term, Jimin was so drunk he started chatting himself up in the mirror”

“Damn that sounds like a good time, probs should start going to these parties you invite me to”

“defo should, anyways I’ll tell u as long as you promise not to spread the information or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

“I promise not to spread it or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

he replies in monotone voice and his hand on his chest like an oath

and so that was how he acquired your address

simple enough really

and so that’s the events that lead him to be crawling through your dorm window however paused like a deer in headlights at the questionable sounds coming from the room across

he was squatted on the window ledge like spider man, red sock in hand and hood up

it was 9:00pm and your university apartment was supposed to be empty at this time

you had your class on now but he hadn’t accounted for your roommate

hence why he had frozen at the unsavoury sounds echoing round the apartment

low moans and grunts emanated from the room across

dEsGöStEn

he had to get to the kitchen without alerting the dusk time love makers

he could do it if the floor plan was the same as his apartment block and he bet his reputation on that

if he got caught he’d never hear the end of it from his mates and your roommate might even call the campus police if they were spooked enough

and so he clambered through your bedroom window and onto your bed underneath

unmade bed might he add but what did he expect from a uni student

with wide eyes he listened for any noise of suspecting roommates and examined your room

the desk was littered with papers and an oversized lava lamp stood stout in the corner of the room

a lacy bra was hung over your wardrobe handle

he shoved away the idea of you wearing it and continued with his night time plot

slowly and stealthily he crept through the halls of the apartment and out to the kitchen

on the maiden was already a neatly hung load of whites

he’d have to assume it was yours otherwise he’d have to go back to your room to get laundry

he bundled up the clothes and shoved them in the washing machine with the incriminating red sock he’d brought and set it to economy spin

round and round it spun, getting progressively louder as it went

he had to get out of there asap

tip-toeing as he went past the questionable lewd noises, he finally made it to your bedroom

he made one last check to see if he’d left any damage in your room

his eyes fell upon that same bra

damn his manhood making him think predictably

he shoved the thought away and departed

25/10 22:08

You: what in the hell did you do to my washing!!!?!!!

You: unless it was a ghost it HAD TO BE YOU JEON 🤬

Jungkook ༄ : wym I don’t even know where you live 😑

Jungkook ༄ : what’ve you done now?

You: IT HAS TO BE YOU!! SOMEONE FRIGGIN TURNED MY WASHING PINK AND I PROMISE YOU IT WASNT ME

Jungkook ༄ : how would i do that?? I don’t have like magic clothes dyeing skills boo

You: I SWEAR it was you!!

You: what do you want to bet it was u

Jungkook ༄ : I won’t bet anything I’m poor

You: that means you did it!

Jungkook ༄ : if you come with me to Taehyung’s party tomorrow I’ll tell u everything

Jungkook ༄ : but only if you go, that’s the terms of agreement

You: that’s all the incriminating evidence I need!! you basically just admitted to it you know?

You: however for reasons sake I will attend 👀

Jungkook ༄ : see you then red socks x

You: I suppose u will x

time passed quickly and soon it was Taehyung’s party

You’d known Taehyung since middle school however since starting college you hadn’t seen much of him

schedules clashed often so the only time you got to see him was at a good party

nothing wrong with that, you just probably haven’t had a completely sober conversation with him in 2 years

he’s good fun, Taehyung, so you hoped Jungkook wasn’t as much as a killjoy as he’d been this week

his little antics (that you’d yet to figure out) had caused your work uniform to turn bright pink

and thus the ‘pink princess’ nickname at work began

you felt like sharpay, everyone in white, but you pink

you’d quite like to knock Jungkook down a peg after that

and so you made your way to the infamous Taehyung’s party

he welcomed you as you entered the large door of his fraternity house

behind his head of black curls you could see the mess that is a raging college party

young people, at assumably different levels of intoxication, were everywhere

some were stood all the way up the expanse of the stairs even

you looked around and spotted a familiar brunette in the kitchen sat on the large marble counter tops

he’s chatting to some pink haired girl beside him

you stalk up to him like a woman on a mission and jokingly (a little too hard for jokingly) push his shoulders with both hands

he immediately snaps his head round to face you and his eyes widen with shock

“I have a bone to pick with you.” you say as stern as you can

you grab hold a fistful of his black T-shirt and drag him into a side room

once you enter only then do you realise it’s a laundry room

how fitting 👀

you say “Come on, tell me how you did it.” as you cross your arms and glare at him

“Did what?”

“you know what I mean, don’t play dumb with me, how did you turn all of my washing pink, and might I add, my work uniform too!”

“Ohhh that, it was far too easy. You really should keep your windows locked when you’re out.” he says as he laughs, like the whole thing is amusing

“So you’re telling me you broke into my apartment?! How did u know where I live??”

at this point you’re pacing around the room, arms flailing wide at the sudden discovery

“Well, I may or may not have asked Taehyung, and he told me, and then I entered, I did not break into your apartment. Anyway, I didn’t touch anything but the washing machine and I had the lovely experience of being serenaded by your roommate’s sex symphony.”

he made a step forward towards you, almost in a challenging way

“Oh I’ll be having harsh words with him later...” you say as you uncross your arms and put them on your hips.

you stand thinking for a second before it sinks in

“Wait.. what did you hear? You said sex symphony, right?”

“Uh yeah, your roommate was proper going at it with someone. At least he had the decency to do it whilst you were out, I guess.” He chuckled

“Oh my days, that means Hobi must’ve had Hyerim round! Go him I guess, but also ewww”

“Anyways we’ve bounced around the issue enough here, you ruined my clothes and broke into my apartment!” you exclaim backing up against the wall

Jungkook starts to close the gap between you two

“So? What’re you going to do about?”

your back pressed flush with the wall, you start to realise how close he really is

you can see the small freckles that dot the bridge of his nose, the thick eyelashes that frame his eyelids, the totally sinful look in his eyes

like this you start to realise how shockingly handsome he is

no wonder he has a slight reputation in class

you had no idea why he was looking at you this way

“I-I’ll call campus security..” You begin

“Will you really now?” he retorts as he slams his hand into the wall behind you, caging you in

“I w-will” a whisper that falls on deaf ears

before you even register, his lips have attached themselves to yours and you feel his thumb under your jaw

he works his lips against yours and you feel your legs start to tremble

he tastes sweet and robust, like syrup on your tastebuds

you mould into his kiss and then break away, panting for air, wanting more

everything felt so wrong, yet so right at the same time

it was as if your current issue had melted away and the only thing you could focus on was the way he looked at you and how his soft lips felt against yours

“J-Jungkook? What’re we doing?” you asked, a giggle leaving you

you rest your head against chest, clasping at his tshirt

“I couldn’t resist, you’re so hot when you’re angry”

he places a firm kiss against your cheek, takes your hand in his, and leads you back to the party

you couldn’t believe you’d just done that, let him kiss you so easily

but once you let him, it felt so right, like it was supposed to be that way, him lapping you up like a parched man to water

it felt so natural to have his arm round your waist like it was now

the pair of you approached Taehyung, still clutched together

“What happened to you two? I heard _____ went off on one and then you both were missing for ages. And now you both show up all over each other... what went down 👀”

“Well you know, hate and love are both forms of passion.” Jungkook says with a smirk

“excuse me? Assuming I love you? I let you kiss me once and you say it’s love? I’ll show you love” you retort

“Oooh she’s feisty; so you kissed? Damn, things’re moving quickly for you two, one minute Jungkook’s asking me for your address, the next you’re sucking each other’s faces off. I’m one of hell of a wing man, if I do say so myself.”

Taehyung flips an imaginary lock of hair out of his way like a sassy high school cheerleader

You both just laugh, at Taehyung, and because of how crazy it is,

It’s almost like you didn’t know you liked him like that until it smacked you in the face

“Do you want a drink? A beer?” Jungkook asks pouring himself a glass of punch

“That’d be great, thank you” you reply as you realise how much more time you want to spend with this annoying but totally handsome dork of a boy

༄ 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀! ༄

This was just a little fic I wrote a while ago which had formatting errors so I fixed it for y’alI, Hope you enjoyed it ☺️ Let me know what you thought of it and feel free to like and reblog <3

[theflashdriver]

Time After Time (Silvaze)

The weather was fair yet cloudy, it wasn't too warm, but it wasn't too cold and the tide was almost fully in. Sunset was a little more than a few hours away, before it came the clouds would break further and a beautiful, pink-red, sky would be revealed. No attacks would come today; there would be no evil, hairbrained, scheme put into motion on either a domestic or galactic level, though such a plan had been entirely unmade a little more than a day prior. Yes, today, this calm day at the docks of Soleanna was one that Silver the hedgehog knew well. To most of his friends, today might have seemed especially mundane but he knew it differently. To him, this day was like no other. Although, unlike when he'd first lived it, he was viewing it through the lens of nostalgia.

Despite his knowledge and experience of today, Silver the hedgehog was quietly quaking in his boots as he wandered past the shops and restaurants on the city's most coastal street. When he'd last been here, to this exact day rather than this exact place, he'd been fourteen years old and yet, as he'd come to know, it wasn't the first time he'd visited this city and it certainly wasn't his first time being fourteen. Currently he was twenty-four in terms of linear time. He'd gained a lot since that day, both in terms of height and understanding his place in life, but it wouldn't be farfetched to say he felt all that and more had been stripped away. He felt as though he'd reverted into an insecure and nervous youth, not as a result of this time nor place but as a result of his intended next action.

Walking side by side with him, holding his hand in hers, was a feline who'd matured in equal measure to him, linearly and otherwise. Blaze wasn't wearing her usual guardian uniform, the ten-year anniversary of them reuniting had warranted a change in both of their wardrobes. While he had donned spiffy black boots, a set of nicer gloves, a white dress shirt with black trousers and a bowtie that he was seriously regretting, she had put herself in a full suit. A deep burgundy jacket and trouser combination hid a button up, white-silken shirt and a purple-wine coloured tie. She'd kept her heels but, despite their best efforts, he was still just a little taller. She seemed to like such outfits far better than the dresses she'd once been forced into. Suits seemed to further imbue her with a certain brand of confi-

She came to a sudden halt, causing him to stumble, and the rolling of her eyes fully derailed his train of thought.

"If you spend all night watching me, you'll miss the sunset," She'd caught him staring and come to a stop, a small smirk had formed on her muzzle. Just as quickly as she'd halted though, the princess took a small lead and pulled him after her, "Come on, let's find somewhere for dinner."

A few years prior, she'd have insisted he keep his eyes forward and stop looking. Safe to say, she'd gotten far better at hiding her blush. While once he'd been oblivious, now he was the one who'd stammer and redden. The heat laying siege to his muzzle was proof enough of that. As he sped up to match her pace, he fought not to meet her eyes nor muzzle again. In lieu of that, he managed to turn his attention to the sea and tightly grip an object that he'd stashed deep within his right pocket; a small, purple, ring box. It was the clear source of his nervousness, a source that he half hoped was obvious to her and half hoped was not. He wanted to surprise her, even just a little, but to say he was tense about proposing was an understatement.

Blaze was his partner, she had been when they'd battled monsters in a city overtaken by flames and now, she was again. Even during their younger years together in that prior life, he'd always just kind of figured they'd stick together forever. Back then that mentality derived from a rather simple and childish desire to stay with his best friend for ever and ever but, with time, that want had rather evolved. She was still his best friend and yet she was something much more. It'd taken time, they'd fought for ages to overcome the denial and embarrassment that came with their burgeoning feelings, but, in the end, they'd managed to admit their love for one another. He cared for her in a way that he knew he couldn't care about anyone or anything else. Their loss of one another had brought what'd gone unspoken and unthought of to light, even if it'd blinded them at first.

This was just like that first step towards love all over again, he felt like he was stumbling at each and every step, but now there was something even deeper to it. He'd been too young, naïve and oblivious to understand what he was really getting into when they'd first started dating. Blaze was a princess, her family had defended her kingdom for generation upon generation, their romantic lives had historically involved suitors, people with power and land in her world. Only a few generations prior, becoming the second half of a royal pair had been an event that Blaze could only describe to him as ludicrous with competitions and bribery and all manner of horrendous implications. It was supposed to be a bizarre spectacle of some sort, guesses and bets were gruesomely made on who would take the royal's hand.

Asking the girl who'd died for his future, who he'd been more than willing to die for, who'd call him naïve, chastise his insecurity and who he couldn't live without to marry him would be ludicrously difficult. Asking that same girl, who also just happened to be the princess and guardian of an entire world in which he was a relative nobody and a stranger, seemed practically impossible. She cared so deeply for her people and their wants, more than she cared for herself. He'd so casually tended to other people's futures, yet he was scared to take a serious step towards theirs. He'd battled monsters and lived through the unliveable but asking his closest companion a simple question seemed far more gruelling.

Pulling his right hand from his pocket, he reached up to awkwardly tug at the small cluster of chest fur he had access to. He was probably a little underdressed for all this, she'd made such a bold choice while he'd been indecisive, but that was nothing new. He'd recommended this place and time both due to its romanticism and to force himself to act. This was the exact day they had reunited, that moment was mere hours away. Out there a much younger Silver and Blaze were blindly wandering across the city, on an inevitable collision course. There would only be one opportunity to actually act on his want, a moment he thought perfect to pop the question. If he failed today then the site where he wanted to propose would be overcrowded, a seemingly impossible task would truly become impossible.

They'd known where and when they were visiting today, but, beyond that, they'd essentially schemed in secret. Though this beachside wasn't unlike those in her dimension, they both knew the area well enough to take each other on unique, albeit relaxed, adventure. There was a good star watching spot just outside the city, a few good movies playing, some attractions that would currently be going unused and plenty of historical sights. He'd promised to take care of their early actions while their later efforts were up to her.

"So, did you have an actual plan for dinner? It's a Tuesday night, I doubt we'll need any reservations…" She half asked and half mused.

"O-Oh, right," He'd been pulled from his thoughts again. Looking to her and tugging more tightly at his chest fur, Silver explained his plan, "Yes, I made plans. There's a place that does really good pasta around here. It'll close down in a couple of years, but the head chef will go on to start running a far bigger and busier restaurant in station square. His current restaurant is quieter, a small place on the waterfront that's much too expensive for its owner to maintain," Realising he was rambling, releasing all he had researched in the future, he caught himself, "B-But that just means the view is very good, it's not too far from here either."

"That sounds perfect, let's go then-

"W-Wait," He stopped walking this time, she turned to him with a small quirk on her brow. Much more and she'd start asking questions and he'd crumble where he stood, "Before the restaurant, there's somewhere I'd like to go first. It's just a little further ahead."

She gave him a knowing look before resuming her lead, their reunion was burned into her memory just as it was his, "I suppose that we can go there first, but it's hardly going to vanish."

"So will we though," He interjected, walking alongside her, "So I figured we should probably avoid that, I don't really know what'll happen if we bump into ourselves. I've never really done it before."

"Doesn't that mean we should be avoiding the wharf at all costs? Perhaps even the whole city," She questioned.

"Maybe but," He scrambled for an answer, "I just thought it'd be romantic. I think we can stand to do it just this once, I know I'll be too distracted by you to notice another of myself hiding nearby."

"Well, I suppose the same is true of me… and it is a rather special place," He could tell by the flicking of her tail that she was curious, she knew he was up to something, but also genuinely interested in visiting the site, "I suppose, just this once. I think we might start to notice if there's more than four of us in the vicinity. It might distract from another day's romanticism."

It took a lot to keep himself from sighing with relief but, despite that urge, he was still incredibly nervous. She'd agreed to come to the spot, but he still had to act once they'd arrived. He knew what he wanted to say, he knew what he wanted to do, but putting that into motion was going to take the sum of his willpower. Even then, that might not be enough. He hoped the site of such memories would catalyse him.

A squeeze of his hand tugged him from his thoughts again, Blaze was scanning him with a lingering inquisitiveness. He beamed at her, fully knowing she'd recognise the nervousness behind it. Fortunately, she seemed to take it in good faith; her shoulder gently met with his as she walked just a little bit closer to him. Their relationship with contact like this had changed a lot over the years, going from natural to embarrassing to natural once more. The hedgehog was glad he could find such comfort in her touch. Despite having regained both his memories and his companion ten years ago, he was still a little new to contact. While he'd hug and hold others, the quiet moments were still reserved for her.

"What about later tonight? Have you planned a lot?" He inquired, realising that he'd been too deep in thought to properly drum up conversation.

"I've got a couple of things up my sleeve, you'll just have to wait and see what happens," She hinted, leaning just a little bit more to accentuate her point, "It'll just depend what we have time for and where our wanders take us."

"I told you everything but you're not going to say anything?" He whined, half-jokingly, "Blaze, please..."

The only response he received was her tail winding around his waist and her leading ever so slightly faster.

Clearly, she planned to lead him on for the entire evening. He'd kind of come to expect that from their dates. While he planned relatively simple things for the most part, innocent and obvious, the feline enjoyed playing with him quite a lot. Her position in her home world meant that dates were often sporadic, arranged at the last minute or constantly shuffled and reshuffled, but she'd learned to take advantage of that. He'd find her at his door and, very quickly, find himself being pulled across islands and in all sorts of directions. Despite this, she didn't like to take advantage of her position as guardian. Most commonly, they would find themselves hiking across far off islands and cooking in by campfire or she'd order food and pull him up to the castle for a night in. Blaze seemed to relish in surprising him with what was, in comparison to the lives they knew and had known, relatively regular things. He'd be lying if he said, just as he had her, he'd fallen in love with things being regular.

He threw another glance oceanward, finding the sky still overly cluttered with white, fluffy, masses, untouched by the reds and pinks of a sunset. The change in tone from day to night couldn't have been too far away, they were going for dinner rather than a late lunch after all, but the lack of signs was giving him some comfort. As they reached his intended destination, it told him that they still had some time.

He'd brought her to the site at which they'd soon be reuniting. They wouldn't quite be meeting for the first time in this lifetime but they would remember what they were to one another. It was a stairway down to the thin wharf that edged along the entire coast and splayed out in places to create small harbours. It was a simple, unassuming, sight; but the view of the sea from those stairs was breath-taking, even when the sun wasn't setting.

The first time they'd visited here was the darkest day of their life. Amy Rose had just stopped him from killing Sonic, displaying her love by defending the blue blur with her body before bluntly admitting how much she cared for him. Uncertain how to proceed from here, Silver's faith in their mission shaken, he'd meandered his way to these steps and found himself moping but, ultimately, had been distracted by the sight and smell of the sea. Eventually Blaze had joined him but, with the future on the line, he hadn't had the strength to so much as mention the beauty of their surroundings, let alone suggests they sit for a while. They were trying to save their world, but the cost of such a victory proved to be too much. He'd lost both her and his memories of her only a handful of hours later. They both ended up reincarnating into entirely different lives in total opposite locations, they'd become strangers.

In this life though, this spot held a very different meaning. It was where they'd reforge their connection, where she'd convince him to visit her world for the first time and he'd managed to claim a moment of true peace for the first time across any of his lives. That peace hadn't lasted for too long of course, the future was still destroyed back then, but it'd been enough of a taste that he knew what he wanted and where he wanted to be.

Leaving her side, he rushed up to arrive at the top of the stairs and took a seat on the far-right side. Sitting himself on its pale wooden boards, he patted the spot next to him. She rolled her eyes and grew another smirk before walking over to sit with him. These were the positions that their past selves would soon take to talk and, eventually, reminisce. He swore he could see the slightest twinge of pink on the clouds but, beyond that, the cluttered sky was still hiding many secrets.

He turned his attention to her, just in time for her head to meet with his shoulder, "It's not quite the view I remember, but it's getting there."

A bigger smile broke onto his face, he reached across his body with his right hand and held it flat to her; fingertips to the sky. Without so much as blinking, she brought her left hand to meet it. Palm to palm and finger to finger before, gently, their fingers slipped into a grasp. This was the first contact they'd made in this lifetime, the trigger to remembering had been no more than a simple touch.

Silver knew what he wanted to do, he'd been riling himself up to do it all day, but he couldn't help staring for just a moment. He could easily imagine the younger feline who'd just regained her memories; the combined look of shock, regret and happiness was unlike any expression she'd worn before or since. Now she just looked happy, peaceful even, so much had changed across these lives; the places, their comfort and feelings alike. After a minute or so of flickering between her and the ocean, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.

His closer hand was still locked in her grasp, so he stretched with his right and struggled to cross his hand over his body to delve into his right jacket pocket. Once he'd grasped the box, he threw a glance in her direction only to find her expression had changed; she was squinting, but not at the horizon. Almost instinctively, he followed her eyeline only to find that the cloud barrier had shifted slightly. The orange sun was struggling to break through the clouds.

It was as Silver realised this, that he felt Blaze's hand slip free from his and a sudden push impact his right shoulder, sending him tumbling from the banister-less staircase and onto the wharf below. The moment he hit the ground he used his powers to force flip himself back upright, prepared to fly back up the stairs, but the suit-clad feline had jumped straight after him and very almost knocked him back to the ground.

"W-What's going on? What was-

Before he could finish, her hands had found his shoulders and shunted him backwards. His back met with wood, her palms were on his chest and the sky was blocked by the edge of the staircase above. She'd pushed him into the minuscule nook beneath the wharf's staircase, the sea was directly beneath their feet once again. Before he could shift, the princess moved. She was no longer pinning him with her body so much as caging him, her hands placed against the wood at either side of his neck. This wasn't a position he was new to, but she had fully caught him by surprise. His muzzle was painted fully crimson, sweat immediately began to pool on his brow, but Blaze wasn't even looking at him; her gaze was thrown to the boards above them. He only half understood what was happening but, before he could ask, she gave a demand.

Her words came out hushed and sharp, "Stay still, keep quiet. I think you're about to arrive."

It took a moment for those words to process, he hardly had an impeccable sense of time, but he was certain they weren't about to meet. It was only then that he realised what of that day he remembered; only really from meeting Blaze onward, the exact point of his arrival was lost on him. He remembered the sky just beginning to change as she called out to him and he turned, but not the minutes leading up to that.

"Already? I didn't see myself or anything," Silver answered, trying to keep his voice equally low, "How do you know?"

"The clouds were beginning to part," She hesitated, as footsteps padded above them, "When I found you that day, my eyes landed on you because you were caught in the first sunbeam. I saw it starting."

He'd just thought it was somewhere nice to sit, he hadn't noticed that back then. Looking up and to his right, he saw a glimmer of sunlight breaking through the slats. Silver couldn't see much from his position, but he knew well enough to take her word for it. Well, that and he didn't have the strength to. He'd waited a moment too long and missed his opportunity, that realisation sapped him of energy. His other self hadn't arrived mid-proposal, but he had failed.

"What're we going to do?" She questioned.

"I guess we'll just have to stay here and keep still," He sheepishly mumbled, feeling thoroughly to blame. They'd be sat up there for a good few hours, "If things go how they're supposed to then they shouldn't notice us and, when they remember, we might be able to slip away?"

"You're right, I think leaving before that would be dangerous. Changing the future here could be dangerous," She nodded, her head very almost meeting with his, "Remembering will probably distract them enough," Her eyes flickered back to the wood above, "Well, distract us enough."

She didn't look upset, but he couldn't help grimacing; he'd effectively stranded them, "I'm sorry, I should have timed this better."

"Oh hush," She looked at him, seriousness in her eyes but a joking smirk on her lips, "Even if you should have, this is a very fitting experience. I never considered that we could relive this," As his brow softened, the harshness fled her eyes and a small spark of excitement took its place. Footsteps sounded overhead. Silver the hedgehog, age fourteen, had just arrived, "Let's enjoy ourselves."

His chance to propose was dashed, he couldn't move his body nor his spirit from this position, but at least she was happy. This was a rather unique opportunity, no one else could really relive a significant moment in their life as they were about to. Even if it wasn't the new experience he'd wanted to give her, at least it was an old one that he knew was close to their hearts. As he watched her eyes drift across the woodwork above, he couldn't help but marvel at her again. The drop had made her fur ever so slightly unkempt, almost urging or asking him to push the pieces back into place. She hid her emotions so well, but he was equally skilled at uncovering them. As she stared at the boards above, he couldn't help but keep noticing that smile on her muzzle and the slow batting of her tail. She wasn't lying about wanting to enjoy this.

He gently reached up, made cramped by her holding, and went to push back a strand that was dangling from her ponytail. He'd only just made contact when a voice called him to flinch and pin himself back against the wood.

"So, it is you," Those four simple words clued him in to this current moment without holding any real meaning whatsoever. That voice was one he knew all too well; it was that of Blaze the cat, age fourteen. Almost instantly, even without seeing, he could visualise the goings on above them.

"Oh, hey!" His own mid-pubescent voice almost brought his toes to curl, but his eyes did flicker to the woodwork above. He couldn't really see anything, but he perfectly remembered what was happening, "I've seen you a few times before. What was your name again…? I don't think I've asked before..."

Once he finished stumbling over himself, she'd take two steps closer and make a brief introduction, punctuated with a nod, "I am Blaze the cat, guardian of the Sol Emeralds."

"Blaze… that name really does sound familiar," The reason for that would soon become apparent to the youngster, "Well, I'm Silver! Thank you for helping out the past couple of days, you were amazing!"

She'd pause for a moment, still stood somewhere behind him. Meanwhile, his prior self would quickly turned his attention back to the water, confused by a strange feeling that was engulfing him, "Why are you not with the others? Surely they're celebrating another victory?"

"If I'm honest, I don't really know," A bizarre feeling had pulled him there, a wanderlust like no prior, "When I first arrived, I just happened to pass through here; the blue sky over the sea looked so pretty. I felt like I was supposed to see the sunset on it before I left, I figured it'd be even nicer than the regular sky," Yes, soon the clouds would part to reveal a beautiful sunset, but that would pale in comparison to what he was about to receive, "You're not at the party either though, did you come out here to watch the sunset?"

"You could say that," She had chosen to offer, obscuring that very same feeling in her heart, "…Would you mind if I joined you? I don't know why, I've seen the sun drift beneath the sea a million times, but this seems… rather important."

"Important?" She'd confused him but offered no elaboration, "Of course you can, anyone who wants can and should see this," He'd pet the spot next to him but she'd choose to sit a good half foot further away, "The skies of this time can be so pretty, I can't wait to see it reflected on the water!"

Now that pair were sitting side by side, an awkward silence engulfing them as they tried to focus on the sea but kept exchanging hesitant glances. The older Silver allowed his eyes to flicker to his Blaze. Any lingering concern had left her face and been replaced by a curious stare, it briefly dropped to grace his muzzle before flickering back to the floorboards above them. Given their positioning, she likely had the better view, perhaps she could even see herself. As long as neither of their past versions caught on, nothing could go wrong.

Silver was reminded of the ring in his pocket. His hope of presenting it was abandoned but, at this moment at least, he was almost too awed to worry about that. Even if he'd wanted to right now, and he'd thoroughly kick himself later for not acting, another moment would come. This was still something special. He cast his gaze towards the ocean, the clouds had split far further now and cotton candy colourations were fanning out across the sky. No reflections were clear yet but, within the next half hour, he knew they would begin to appear; that truly beautiful sky would arrive soon. By the time that the pair above had made their peace, the world before them would be cast in the most stunning of colours. Regardless of what happened this evening, regardless of how events progressed, this would linger in his mind as one of the best days he'd ever lived, and now they were getting to experience it for a second time.

Despite being pinned to the wall, despite the tension tied to hiding and the loss of his engagement plan, the lapping of the waves just feet beneath them, the gentle glow of the sun on the horizon and the closeness of her frame to his was putting him entirely at ease. When he was fourteen, he'd been drawn here, but now it felt like he was meant to be here. His ears flickered as the conversation picked back up.

"Is this really the only reason you didn't stay for the party?" The young princess had dared to ask, opting to break the quiet for once. Even before they'd remembered each other, they'd been able to read the other's voice and expression so fluently.

"Well, mostly, yeah," She'd just thrown him a look, a look that told him that she could tell he was lying, "Th-That and, well…" It wasn't that he was embarrassed at being caught so much as he was struggling to disclose a truth that he didn't truly understand, "If I stay for the party then they'll ask me to stay longer, I think… a-and if I do that, then I won't be prepared for the next problem," He'd be scratching at his chest fur now, surely, "I don't know, they probably want me there but don't realise that they shouldn't have me there. I'm more useful elsewhere, you know?"

"You're so naïve," That was the first time he'd been called that in this lifetime, "If you're not going to stay for long, then you should have stayed for as long as you could and had your fill of fun rather than worrying and cutting it short. They'd probably rather have you around for a short while than not at all. They're sad but they've always understood when I've had to go," The feline was giving advice that she herself should probably be taking, "These opportunities are rare for me and, by your tone, I assume they are for you too."

"They are a little, yeah. I don't stay in the same time as them. You're probably right but… there's also just something about this sky, I don't know what it is…" Just now he'd turned to her, he'd got his first proper look at her and noticed the gem that marked her forehead. Something about it, her clothes and the colour of her fur would seem familiar too, just like her name, "Why aren't you with them? You're their friend too, right?"

"Hm," She'd been staring at him, though she'd probably just turned away from his inquisitive look, "I suppose I just needed some air and peace. It's nice to be away from my kingdom but it would seem I've exchanged one rowdy crowd for a different, albeit more social, sort."

The older Blaze snorted ever so slightly, "I'd been curious about you ever since the prior battle, I just couldn't bring myself to admit it."

"This is so strange," The twenty-four-year-old hedgehog mumbled, eyes flickering from the upper left in order to meet his girlfriend's gaze, "Is it weird that I'm really enjoying this? It's so strange, being an observer to the very reason we're here. If I hadn't come here that day and you'd decided not to talk to me, we wouldn't be here right now."

Silver noticed a change in her demeanour, the waving of her tail stopped and the smile on her face grew. Something was going through her head, she was contemplating something very deeply, but that expression quickly passed. Her shoulders rolled into a more relaxed position and her features softened, forming into a look he knew all too well. The hedgehog had no idea what she had decided, but he already knew the result of it.

He felt her grip shift slightly; the base of her palms was pushing on the edge of his shoulders. She'd already been close, but now her nose was bumping against his. She'd captured all of his vision, her tone was still hushed but, somehow, huskier, "Why don't you pay just a little more attention to the here and now…"

Her head tilted, he felt the weight of her wrists drop to his clavicle as her tail had managed to curl its way around his leg. The scent of her lavender perfume was surely beginning to mark him, its aroma was almost hypnotising him. The first kiss landed lightly, a stunning but soft peck on his lips, but the second was just heavy enough to get her message across. A gentle bite at his lower lip followed, a request for access.

He granted it without hesitation, the third kiss pushed him against the wood and brought his back to curve as he conceded to her control. Overhead they were still talking, growing more distracted and fascinated by the other with each passing moment. Still, they had to keep this subtle and quiet, Silver knew fine well that Blaze could have been doing more to overpower him. Through this kiss, their eyes had remained half lidded and captured within the other's glow; never quite breaking. His hands came to hold her, his fingers almost clawing at the small of her back as he tried to pull her even closer.

Their passionate bout soon paused though, she'd pulled back as a handful of familiar words spilled from the younger hedgehog's mouth, "You really do look familiar, I know I've seen you before but… it's like there's more to it than that? I'm not really sure how to describe it."

"Oh?" The feline half-hummed, trying not to seem desperate for answers but prompting him to speak further.

"I came here to look at the sky, but I can't stop looking at you. It's like you're drawing me in," The future hedgehog of the past explained, eyes locked on her, "I don't think his has ever happened to me before."

"Well, I'm sorry to be such a distraction. It is a beautiful sky…" She answered, not even looking at the very view that they were discussing, "But I'd be lying if I said you weren't distracting me too."

"R-Really?" The sound of shifting above caught him just a little off guard, he'd forgotten that he'd been the one to move closer first, "I've never felt anything like this before, it's like I already know you…"

"It's so strange but… I feel the same," A shuffling came from further behind him, the climax was about to arrive, but, once again, the adult Silver's attention was pulled from the princess above and towards the one in front of him.

His Blaze had shifted, her hands had dropped from his shoulders and found her sides, the feline's eyes had broken from his and a seriousness had overtaken his muzzle. They'd gone from so intimate to bordering on distant in no more than a minute. She caught his eyes only to part from them again, reaching down and dusting off both her jacket and her trousers. Had she noticed or remembered something that he hadn't? Were they at risk of being spotted? Was she preparing turn?

Even though his attention had been stolen, Silver's ears still picked up the younger hedgehog's voice, "But you aren't from around here, are you? There's no way we could have met before."

"I'm certain I'd remember your face," The young feline commented before seeming to catch herself, "Well, it feels like I do remember your face…"

"I wonder if…" He'd just started a sentence that he'd never get to finish.

Their hands had touched, that contact had sparked something that lingered deep within their very souls. They'd undone the lock and regained the memories of their past life. In little more than a second, he'd learned of another life in which he'd fought for a bright future, she'd learned of a world and time that so heavily contrasted that of her present one. Most importantly though, they'd both learned of each other.

The current Blaze though, his Blaze, had taken a single step away from him as their past selves made their first contact of this lifetime. Her eyes had returned to his, bring with them a steely serious expression that he'd thought was reserved for only the most difficult of fights, "Silver…"

"Y-Yes?" He stammered.

She dropped to one knee. Her right hand had sunk into her pocket. He immediately understood what was happening. His jaw slacked and eyes went wide as the princess revealed a small, silver, box.

"We've lived both together and apart; I don't ever want to be apart again. I want to stay with you for the rest of my life," Her voice was stable but he could see hints of concern in her demeanour. Little quirks like the flicking of her tail and the bending of her ears; little things that only he could identify. Those worries were entirely pointless, of course. He felt himself begin to shake; his vision had begun to blur.

The hedgehog managed to take a stumbling step forward, closing the gap.

"I know this sudden, but I've been carrying this little box with me for five months now, just waiting for the right time," Her voice was still quiet but, somehow, it cut through the splashing of waves and talk above. She captured held attention in a way that nothing else could, "I can't imagine that there'll ever be a better moment than this…"

The box was thumbed open, revealing a golden right with a band of inset red gems, like a combination of his cuffs and the jewel on her forehead. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, all their moving and talk faded from recognition as his vision shrunk to the ring alone and the face just above it. He hadn't expected this, he hadn't remotely considered it!

But it was perfect, it was so perfect.

"Considering all we've been through, both in this life and the last, this might seem like a formality, but…" That iron expression was wavering, being cracked away by the pressure behind her inevitable next words, "I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?" The question was asked but, before he could give an answer, she had started to talk again, "I know that-

"Y-Yes," It took all he had not to shout as he cut her off, almost falling forward as he reached for the ring and her hands, "Yes, of course Blaze! Of course I will!"

It took some fumbling to get the ring onto his finger, the sound of their past selves shouting and crying with mixed joy and regret acted as an impossible backdrop to this unimaginable occasion. The sun had broken through the clouds, the sunset was freely visible; everything had aligned so perfectly, even if he had failed earlier. In the moment, they almost forgot that this was their time, their chance to escape before their past selves noticed.

Once the ring was on, his hand slipped back into hers. With no more than a single glance up to their past selves, finding them on their feet and clinging to each other as though the universe was about to tear them apart again, the newly engaged couple ran along the wharf. They tried to keep light-footed at first but, eventually, their footfalls rang across the wood. The adrenaline of the moment carried him and, almost certainly, her as they dashed. It perhaps wasn't the most normal thing, proposing and then running from your past self, but it made this endeavour all the more memorable.

They ran until the sun had slipped its way down to sit on the ocean's smooth skyline, slowing themselves to a halt as they arrived at another set of stairs. It was narrower and more crudely constructed, attached to a small harbour that was home to a trio of small vessels. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, they took a seat on those cramped stairs and began to catch their breath. Silver's mind was still racing, his eyes flickered to her before crashing into the ring on his finger; he could hardly believe it was real. He passed his thumb over it, feeling the smooth bands that shielded the gemstones.

"Blaze," She very quickly turned to him, "Th-That was incredible!"

"I know me doing this means something more than you were maybe hoping, taking any role in the royal family is difficult, let alone the one you are," She wasn't quite meeting his eye, instead choosing to almost look past him. He felt her hand slip from his, "Was I too sudden? Were you ready for me to ask? I know I didn't really drop any hints, but I wasn't sure how to. I thought about discussing our future, but we did most of that when we started dating, and you seemed happy so…"

Thoughts ran rampant through his mind, concerns and regrets; not about her choice to act, but his own inaction. He was overwhelmed, happier than he'd ever been, and now he had an opportunity to reassure her and return that happiness. That ring was burning a hole in his pocket, it was the answer to this problem. If he could will himself to draw it, then her worries would disappear. What kind of fool would he be if he failed to?

She kept talking through his silence, worry still plagued her face, "I also know that this is another huge responsibility you'd be taking on, and with the future at peace you might have hoped you'd never really have another. If you want some time to think or-

"P-Please don't worry about that, Blaze. I-I…uhm," The nervousness in his tone surely wasn't helping her. He closed his eyes, curled his toes and took a deep breath. He had to do this properly, "I have something for you too," Taking her left hand in his, Silver rose from the stair only to turn and drop to one knee. After a moment of rummaging through his pocket, a small box was retrieved and held before him. By the way and speed that her initial surprise dovetailed into a more relaxed joy, he knew that he had offset her worries. Even if it was a little pointless now, he unleashed the words he'd been reciting for months now, "Blaze, I don't want to lose you again. I've spent a life with you and one without you, nothing and no one could fill your place in my heart. I want to stay by your side forever, I always have. Both in this life and our past one, there's nowhere I'd rather be than with you."

The ring box sprung open with no more than a thought, revealing a silver band with a large red gemstone. Tears still lingered in his eyes, but now they'd started to form in hers. Without missing a step, she lowered herself to match his height and let her lips find his again. He was hardly able to focus but, with a little more fumbling, his ring found itself on her finger. Tonight had hardly started, and what little they'd done had gone entirely contrary to his plan, but, just as he'd thought it ten years ago, this truly was the best night of his life.

[spell-cleaver]

#71 and #52 with Luke and Vader, please? Or with just #71. If you have the time. Also I really love your fanfics! 😄 You are the best and one of my inspirations for writing. And all of your stories have either moved me to tears or brought me many smiles! Thank you for your stories! 😁

Ahhh thank you so much!! This made me smile like crazy :D

I ended up setting this as a tie-in to/in the same universe as Sparks, only a few years before, so if you haven’t read that, all you need to know is that Vader’s raised Luke since he was a tiny baby in this, but that Luke’s not dark. It references the fact that Luke knows his father hates tookas, and I decided to write why :)

Why Vader Dislikes Tookas

Vader was a force of nature—of the Empire. He worked like the machine his treacherous masters had made him a part of; he excelled in everything; and he was indifferent to hunger or sympathy or any other such human weaknesses that could hinder one's work.

Well. All but one of them.

He disliked working on Coruscant as a principle. It was, as his son often complained, too loud. It held too many memories, few of them good. Most of all, it held his master.

But right now it also held his son, so he did not want to leave this world of ghosts behind just yet.

Said boy was currently working just as hard as Vader was supposed to be, in the next room over. Their penthouse wasn't small, but Luke's bedroom and the small adjoining study backed onto Vader's... quarters... and his study, so if one ignored the petty realities of walls and doors, they were less than two metres apart.

It was distracting.

Luke was young, his mental shields new, and it was such that Vader sensed every flicker of irritation, minor triumph, even outright guilt, presumably over how poorly he thought he'd been working, as he pored over his summer work. He could almost imagine his frown, the adorable way his eyebrows furrowed just like hers had, him absentmindedly chewing the end of his pencil...

Luke had just completed his first year at the Academy. He wasn't unused to their exacting expectations for students' quality and work ethic—Vader was no lenient teacher himself—but he was still irritated by them. And an irritated twelve year old could be...

Well. Distracting.

Vader shook his head and returned his attention to his datapads. While it was highly inconvenient that the rare time he got to spend on Coruscant with his son also on the planet was spend filling out menial datapads any aide could handle, it was important to get this done, and details of Palpatine's precious Project Stardust were too classified for him to delegate.

Two more datapads to go, then perhaps he'd go to free Luke from the boy's self-imposed obligation to study; take him flying, as he hadn't for so long...

He glanced up from his datapad and started so badly he dropped it.

Luke grinned at him, a little shyly. How the boy had managed to slip from whatever sheet calculations he'd been doing next door to loop right out of his quarters and enter Vader's study unnoticed was beyond him. Perhaps the boy was subtler than he'd thought; he might make a good thief, if Vader was to teach his son to carry out his dirty work like some common lackey.

Vader, unseen behind the mask, raised patches of skin that no longer bore eyebrows. It twisted his scars painfully but Luke seemed to get the message.

"I..." He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Vader's brow-less skin inched higher. "What is it, Luke?"

Luke fidgeted, raking his hand through his hair—still cut short for the Academy—and that shy grin returned.

Vader suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"I— I just wanted to ask you—"

He finally squared his shoulders and said, "I want a pet."

Vader didn't blink.

"The headmaster said he'd be changing the rules next year to allow students to bring one pet to the Academy with them. Can I—"

"No." Vader returned to his work.

"But Dad!"

"Father."

"Right. Sorry, sir." Luke said the title without even thinking about it. It was a moment before Luke remembered Vader was not one of his instructors, and Vader remembered Luke was not one of his underlings.

They both laughed a little; it broke the tension.

"Father," Luke corrected himself, smiling again. "Please! I— It gets really lonely there sometimes, and really lonely here when you're away, and—"

"You have not made any friends?" Vader interrupted, ignoring his shortening of breath at the thought of Luke being lonely without him. His respirator must be acting up.

"I have," Luke said. "I told you about them."

"Remind me."

He gave him a look. Vader had found that no one could look quite as effectively as twelve-year-olds—or perhaps that was just Luke. "Biggs is the guy a few years older than me who got put into my year because the education isn't great on Tatooine, Hobbie is..."

Vader stopped listening, too busy trying desperately not to react to the mention of that disgusting dustball. He'd have to explain his less-than-kind past on that stars-forsaken planet one day, but he'd prefer to do it when Luke was less... astute.

"...and then there's Leia—"

Wait. "Leia Organa?"

Luke looked surprised—and far too innocent for either his own good, or Vader's. "Yeah?"

"You should not be befriending her. She is a political hostage for her father. She is there to learn Imperial ways and to encourage her to be a less vexing leader of Alderaan than her father is."

"Yeah? So wouldn't me showing her that not all Imperials are as mean as the ones who keep shunning her only help that?"

Vader... couldn't argue with that. He didn't try to; he looked down at his son and saw only Padmé.

"I still don't want you talking to her."

"Father." Luke pouted. "See, this is why I only have a couple of friends. And feel lonely. You say I'm not allowed to have any more! A pet—"

"Is yet another line on the list of things you are not allowed, Luke, do not try to make me feel sorry for you in order to win the argument."

Luke hissed out a sigh.

"Would it help if I cried?" he asked.

"It would make it worse."

"Blast." Luke's forehead wrinkled momentarily, then he widened his eyes, jutted his chin up, and pleaded, "Please, Father. Empire Day is coming up. As an early birthday present!"

That weak argument did little to sway him.

But Vader did share one emotional vulnerability with the rest of mankind, and it was exactly that vulnerability that Luke's puppy-like expression was designed to appeal to.

Vader stared him down, jaw twitching.

Then he let out a sigh the vocoder declared as a burst of static.

"There is an urgency to this," he observed acutely. Luke—who had been grinning at his father's apparent capitulation—blew his eyes wide. "There is a reason you want to adopt a pet now, and a reason you are being so insistent even when you know that by testing my patience is unlikely to endear me to your cause."

Luke shook his head fervently. He said nothing, but his lie coloured the Force anyway.

"Luke?"

"It's nothing! I swear, it's nothing!"

"Luke."

He floundered. "I..."

Vader closed his eyes. "Please. Tell me that there is not an animal in this home."

"Technically humans are animals—"

"Luke."

Luke swallowed.

Then he tilted his head towards his bedroom. "Come with me?"

Vader had a very bad feeling about this.

But he got up, consciously turning off his datapad and laying it down on the desk. Pushing his chair back and standing.

He saw Luke swallow a little bit when he straightened up—Vader knew he was very tall and intimidating, while Luke... was not—but he just tilted his head. "Shall we go, then?"

Luke nodded. He mumbled something that might have been yessir under his breath but it was gone too quickly to tell.

Upon entrance, Luke's bedroom did not inspire confidence.

"Did you learn such untidiness at the Academy?" Vader drawled.

The room, large as it was, was a tip. Clothes strewn everywhere, cupboards and wardrobes hanging open, crumbs spilled across the floor.

A plate of biscuits sat in the corner. It looked like it had been sitting there for a few days.

"Promise you won't get mad?"

That did not inspire confidence either.

Vader's only response was to fold his arms.

Luke grimaced and got the hint.

He tiptoed over a floor booby-trapped with clothing and blankets everywhere one looked. His foot caught on one; he tripped, head pitching towards the corner of the bedstead—

Vader caught him with the Force, irritated, and dumped him on the floor. "Trips to the medbay will not get you out of explaining yourself, son."

Luke grimaced and shoved himself to his feet. He ruthlessly dusted himself off, scowling at the plate of biscuits Vader had shoved him onto.

"Ew."

"Luke?"

He grumbled.

But he took two more steps, to the wardrobe propped half-open. He bent down to pick up one of the biscuits still scattered across the floor and held it out in front of him like a peace offering as he opened the door again. Like...

A flash of grey leapt out at Luke. Two seconds later, the blur was gone. So was the biscuit.

Luke was nursing a shallow cut in his forearm that wept blood.

Vader peered around the open door to the gloom of the wardrobe. An angry, yellow-eyed blob lay curled around four other little blobs, using what appeared to be a pile of Luke's Academy uniforms as some kind of nest.

A tooka cat, he observed, entirely without amusement, and her... offspring.

"Luke?" His voice had an edge to it.

Luke threw his hands up; the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding now. "She was already there when I got back from the Academy! She must've crept in somehow and set up a home while we were all away!"

"And why didn't you tell me? There's a herd of them!"

"A family! She's got babies! I didn't want you to kick her out to be wild again!"

"She was wild?" Vader whirled on him. "Those scratches could be infected, you need to get them looked at—"

"Can't we keep her?" Luke begged, doggedly ignoring Vader's rapid change of topic, "please?"

He pulled out the pleading puppy eyes again.

Vader had already established that he was not immune to the puppy eyes.

"No," he said, with some effort. "And you are going to go to the medbay to get those looked at."

"But Father..."

Luke looked so disappointed that, really Vader didn't have a choice but to add: "I will find a suitable shelter to give them to, son. They'll be much happier with people who have the time to look after all of them."

Vader, to be fair, had no idea that the shelter would shut down in five years and become a favourite meeting spot for a notorious burglar. He didn't know that these very kittens would grow into cats that adored that burglar.

Luke's grin was worth his promise. "Thank you, Father."

"But we are not getting pets." Vader wagged a finger in his face; Luke wrinkled his nose. "Ever. And especially not tooka cats."

Luke pressed his lips together, but they twitched upwards in a smile. He nodded his head.

"Yes, sir," he said.

Send me a prompt and I’ll write you something.

[ladymercytaylor]

All In - Chapter 6 (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

A/N: HELLO! And we’re back again with part 6 of All In! This one isn’t as thicc as the last one but honey we getting to the angsty part now! also shout out to everyone that left comments on my last chapter - you honestly have no idea how happy it makes me to see you engaging with my writing <3 <3 (also i obvs don’t own the line break image. thanks google)

Looking for the last chapter? Find it HERE!

Chapter 6 – 11 weeks

At 11 weeks pregnant, the end of your first trimester was finally in sight and you’d never been so excited. So many of the books you’d read told you that in a lot of pregnancies the morning sickness would ease after the third month. It was the one thing that you’d held onto through every trip to the bathroom – every interrupted night’s sleep – you’d held onto the faith that it would be over soon. The other 2 trimesters would be easier and then you’d get the ultimate reward; your little Nugget in your arms. You’d felt fine when you woke that morning, so fine in fact that you’d even managed to keep your breakfast down as you got ready. Encouraged by your small victory you’d left the apartment with a smug smile on your face and a spring in your step. And you were practically jumping for joy when you hurried up the concrete steps of the subway after managing to stay on the same train for the whole trip (instead of having to change 3 times to throw up which had become your new routine).  It must be going now. It had to be.

“Hello, Nadia” you grinned as you stepped into the change room of your practice. The younger girl smiled at you as she pulled her purple scrubs over her thick curly hair. “Hey, boss” she laughed, tying the drawstring of her uniform. “Have a good weekend?” “Yeah, it wasn’t bad” you murmured, pulling your freshly laundered clothes out of your locker. “Went to a cute brunch place in Greenwich Village with my roommate Saturday morning then dinner and a movie with a friend” “That sounds like a date” Nadia sang teasingly, pulling her hair up into a puffy ponytail. You rolled your eyes at her antics, swapping your floral dress for the plain blue top. Your dating life was one of her favourite topics of interest (despite the numerous times you assured her that it was non-existent at best). “Definitely not a date, Nadia. Not everyone’s social life is as colourful as yours” you joked and her dark brown eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my god I have to tell you the craziest story” she chirped to your back as you pulled on the bottom half of your uniform at sat down to tie you shoelaces. “So, you remember my friend I told you about, Salma, yeah?” all it took was one nod from you for her to launch into the dirty details of her weekend. You were always slightly nervous when you got a new mentee but after only an hour with Nadia your fears had been put to rest. And nothing made your Mondays more interesting than hearing about the antics of her and her slightly messy friends. 

She continued to tell you all about her weekend as the two of you walked into your examination room, her hands flying in front of her as she illustrated the exact route she and her friends had run through Central Park at 4am to get to some exclusive rave before the doors closed.  “Alright, do you want to read the appointment notes for our first case and tell me how we should set everything up?” you asked, settling down on your stool. Nadia grinned at you before turning to the glowing computer screen. “Well it’s just a routine cleaning so we’d need…” her voice faded away as a cold sweat brought out across your brow. Your stomach lurched and you shot up from your stool sending it skittering across the floor.  “Set everything up and I’ll see how you’ve done when I get back from the bathroom” You couldn’t wait for her response, dashing from the room as your insides clenched again. Stumbling down the white corridor you managed to throw yourself into the bathroom as your breakfast reappeared, only just managing to get yourself over the porcelain bowl.  A dejected sigh fell from your lips as you sat back on your heels, the water swirling down the drain. The best morning you’d had in the last 11 weeks and now it was ruined. Luck seemed to have been on your side and you’d avoided being ill at work but it seemed that Nugget didn’t care at all that the sickness should be easing by now. You should have known. With a father like Joe there was no way your baby wasn’t going to be a troublemaker. You startled as you exited the bathroom. Sam, the practice manager, was leaning up against the opposite wall, calm concern on his slightly lined face.  “Hi, Sam” you chirped, attempting to appear casual but his expression didn’t waver.  “Y/N” he started gently and you felt your stomach drop. “I’m going to say this as a friend, is there anything you want to tell me?”  A soft sigh escaped your lips and irritated tears welled in your eyes. You’d been hoping to keep it to yourself for a little while longer, but your cover seemed to have been blown.  “I’ve got a free slot after I finish up with Mrs Summers, could I stop by your office?” you asked meekly, toeing at the stiff grey carpet.  “I think that’s a very good idea” he smiled warmly. Sam patted your shoulder gently and headed back to his office. A distinctly different kind of nausea settled in your stomach as you walked back into the exam room.

45 minutes later your heart was hammering against your ribs as you knocked on the office door. “Come in” came a muffled voice from behind the wood. You look a steadying breath before turning the silver handle and stepping inside. Sam was waiting for you, a steaming mug of coffee next to his mouse along with a half-eaten biscuit. He grinned as you entered, immediately gesturing for you to take the seat on the other side of his desk. “So, anything in particular you want to chat about?” he chuckled jovially, acutely aware of the pinched expression on your face. “Lovely weather we’re having today” you hummed, looking over the top of his head at the brightly lit New York street outside his window. “Y/N” he murmured warningly and you huffed a sigh, your teeth worrying at your lip.   “I’m pregnant” “Congratulations” he smiled but you couldn’t return it. “How long have you known?” you asked, picking up a stray pen from his desk. “A couple of weeks. When I realised you’d switched to decaf and were wearing the scrubs a size up from your usual” he shrugged, leaning back in his office chair. The back squealed loudly in the silent office. “You know it’s not a problem, right?” Sam murmured, concern in his pale blue eyes. “Everything in your contract still stands. Paid leave for 3 months and we’ll hold your job for a year” he reminded you gently. “That isn’t why I kept it quiet” you admitted, spinning the plastic biro distractedly across the wooden surface. Sam waited patiently, concern knitting his grey eyebrows. “It’s all just such a mess” you sighed after a few moments, still staring resolutely at the desk. “And work was the one place I didn’t have to think about it. Until this morning” “A surprise was it?” Sam asked softly, leaning forward on his forearms. Nodding softly you continued to spin the pen in front of you. “My first was a surprise” the affection that always warmed his voice when he spoke of his children coloured his words as he turned his eyes to the framed photos resting below his computer monitor. His wife and 2 daughters smiled back up at him through the glass and you felt your heart squeeze as a tender smile twisted his lips. “Yeah but at least you and Lara were actually dating” you muttered dejectedly. A tense beat passed between you. “Ah. Is there any chance that I know who the father is?” a small nod was all he needed. “I can see why you’re calling it a mess” he admitted, running a hand through his greying hair. “But if I can say one thing?” you nodded your permission, abandoning the biro under your fingers. “You couldn’t have picked a better guy”

Joe’s heart was hammering in his chest as he stared at his phone screen. 2 weeks was too long to put this off. He knew he should have called the day of the ultrasound, but the nagging fear of his mother’s reaction had kept him pushing it out of his mind. But now that the milestone 1st trimester was drawing to a close he knew there would be hell to pay if he left it any longer.  With trembling hands he pressed her icon before bringing the phone to his ear.  “Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up” he whispered to himself, his leg bouncing against the sofa cushions. His desperate prayers were not met however, as the ringing abruptly stopped, the gentle voice of his mother replacing it.  “Hello, stranger. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me” Virginia laughed softly. Joe chuckled along but his guts twisted with guilt.  “Sorry about that mum. Just had a lot on my mind the last few months” he murmured, dragging his fingers along a red stain in his track pants. Sadness settled over him as he remembered how that mark had come to be. It was one of his favourite memories with you – a rather misguided attempt to recreate his grandmother’s meatballs that had ended with an absolutely ruined dinner and sauce all over the two of you.  “Anything you want to tell me?” she asked gently, pulling Joe out of his reverie.  “Yeah, there actually is” He should have known that his mum would figure it out. He was never able to hide anything from her. “You might want to sit down for this one” “Okay, I’m sitting” Virginia replied wearily after a moment of pause as she settled at the dining room table.  “You remember how I went to that wedding a couple of months back?” Joe started, the muscles in his jaw clenching.  “Sebastian’s? Yes, the photos were gorgeous” “Well, Y/N was there” his admission was met with stunned silence. It was the first time she’d heard Joe speak of you in a year. He had always been very tight lipped about the breakup – refusing to supply any details beyond ‘It just wasn’t working’. Virginia had loved you like a daughter, and she knew she should have held back her curiosity, but it burst forth before she could stop it.  “You never told me! How is she? Please tell me she’s well” she babbled and Joe felt the tips of his ears begin to burn.  “She’s good. Really good, actually. Now I’m just going to get this out of the way so sorry if it’s a bit blunt” Joe started, terrified that he’d lose his nerve if he so much as paused, “we slept together after the wedding and now she’s pregnant and we’re going to raise the baby together” he blurted out in one big breath, the only other sound he could hear was the rushing of his heart in his ears.  “Oh my” were the only words his mum could think of. She was expecting him to say he’d be leaving for another long project or even that he’d lost a job he was excited about. Never did she imagine that he’d be telling her that he was having a baby. With his ex-girlfriend. “Oh, Joseph Mazzello. What have you done?” she sighed heavily and Joe’s insides lurched uncomfortably.  “I didn’t mean to, mum” he murmured, suddenly feeling like a child that was being scolded for breaking something valuable. “It all just…happened. And it was her choice to keep the baby!” he added quickly, his foot bouncing even faster against the floorboards. “I was okay with whatever she wanted” “I’m sorry, love” Virginia whispered, running a hand through her hair, “I’m just surprised. I mean I’m not surprised that it’s Y/N. Better than a random one night stand I suppose” “Wow, great pep talk” Joe deadpanned, flopping back dramatically onto the couch cushions.  “Are you two getting back together?” his mother asked, ignoring his groan. His stomach dropped.  “No. Just…doing it together” Joe finished lamely, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment.  “Right” Virginia nodded, not pressing the issue. She could hear the disappointment colouring his words. She didn’t want to poke the wound any further so she let it slide. “I’m sorry, hun, but I’ve got to go. Meeting up with friends for lunch”  “Oh, okay” Joe stammered. “I guess I’ll let you go then”  The two said their goodbyes and Joe was just about to remove the phone from his ear when his mum piped up on the other end.  “Joe?”  “Yeah, mum?” “This isn’t a joke” she warned, scratching at a mark on the worn dining table, “This is a huge commitment”  “Why is everyone treating me like a goddamned child all of a sudden?” Joe spat out, anger shooting up his nerves like fire. “I’m 35 not some reckless teenager” “I didn’t mean it like that –” she sighed gently but Joe cut across her.  “No, mum. I know you mean well but I know exactly what I’m doing” he snapped before ending the call and tossing the phone onto the other side of the couch. The small device bounced off the charcoal cushions before clattering onto the polished floor but Joe didn’t care. Furious tears were welling up in his eyes as his mother’s words echoed in his head. He could do this. Why did everyone think he was so incapable? Did he have ‘chaotic mess’ tattooed on his face?  Still grumbling to himself he stormed upstairs and into his office, throwing himself into his desk chair and grabbing his laptop. He was going to show them. He was going to show them all.

The heat was sweltering as you stepped out of the building, radiating off the dark pavement in shimmering waves. It stuck to your skin as you walked towards the train station, sweat beading on your brow. As you stepped down into the dark station a gust of warm air swept across your face leaving you grimacing. Not fancying a stifling trip home you shrugged off the thin jumper that was covering your floral dress. Usually hiding your bump was your top priority but the heat clinging to you was insufferable. And besides, what was going to happen on a 15 minute train ride? Much to your surprise your train pulled up right as you stepped onto the platform with the hoard of commuters and you were immediately swept inside with the crowd – no one paying you or your bump a second glance. Your hand was slick against the metal pole of the train as you tried to keep yourself from swaying into your fellow commuters as the train jerked along the tracks. The carriage lurched to the right, sending you stumbling into the man next to you.   “So sorry” you apologised, your hand immediately moving to rest on the small swell of your stomach. “All good” he dismissed casually, his eyes not leaving the phone in his hand. Shrugging to yourself you looked away, only to lock eyes with the aged lady sitting in the seat opposite you. You watched as her watery eyes drifted down to where your left hand rested on your belly. Instead of the warm smile you’d been so used to on the occasion that someone noticed your pregnancy, her lined face twisted into a look of pure disgust. You startled, stumbling as the train veered on the tracks. She turned away, staring resolutely down the carriage. You turned away too, shocked tears scratching at the back of your eyes. The train continued to hurtle down the tunnel, the steel wheels clicking against the tracks but you didn’t hear it, your mind completely clouded with angry confusion. She didn’t know you. She had no idea what you were going through with this bloody pregnancy - spending hours upon hours every week with the man who broke your heart for the sake of your baby. What gave her the fucking right?

“I come bearing dinner!” Joe chirped as he pushed the door to your apartment open. The plastic takeaway bag swung violently on the crook of his arm as he kicked the door shut with a satisfying thud. “I also brought dessert, couldn’t help myself” he added with a laugh but it died as his eyes fell on you, slumped over on the couch with your face buried in your hands as gentle sobs shook your shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked, abandoning the food on the kitchen counter before dashing to your side. “I’m fine, Joe” you whimpered, dabbing the sleeve of your jumper to your eyes. “Just hormones” “Bullshit” he dismissed, shuffling closer to you on the sofa. He hadn’t seen you cry once throughout this whole ordeal. Something had to be off. “Just leave it” the words came out harsher than you intended but that didn’t stop your ex-boyfriend. “No. Tell me what’s wrong” he demanded, his eyes not leaving your bloodshot eyes. You tried to keep it in. Tried to pretend that really, you were fine. But it was too much to hold at bay and you exploded. “It’s not fair!” you sobbed, furiously trying to wipe away the tears that were still pouring down your cheeks. “Everyone else gets the whole picture. The mum and the dad and the happy family shit. And I get judged by little old ladies on the subway” you blubbered angrily, bitter tears dripping onto your legs. “You should have seen the way she looked at me!” you shouted and Joe swallowed thickly. “Just because I don’t have a ring apparently I’m scum of the Earth” “I’m sure that’s not what she meant –”  Joe said in a vain attempt to calm you down. “How would you know?” you rounded on him, eyes flickering with rage. “Nothing’s different for you. It’s not like you walk around with ‘soon to be single dad’ stamped on your forehead” “I just never imagined I’d be doing this alone” you muttered, your eyes dropping to your worn ballet flats. “You’re not doing this alone” Joe reminded you gently, moving to place a reassuring hand on top of yours but you pulled it away. “It’s not the same Joe and you know it” you snapped, shoving off of the couch cushions to pace tensely across the living room. Joe watched apprehensively. He’d seen you get like this only a handful of times and it had never ended well. “This was all just such a huge mistake” “Don’t say that!” he implored, springing off the couch. “Don’t call Nugget a mistake” he begged, reaching out to grasp your shoulders. His heart clenched as you stepped out of his reach. “But they are! This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t know why I thought this might work” “Because we work!” he shouted back, angry red splotches blooming on his throat “we’re good together, Y/N” “If we we’re so fucking good together then why did you leave, Joe?” you spat back, the words like acid in your mouth. “Why’d you break up with me if we were so fucking great?” “God damn it, Y/N! Can’t you see that I made the biggest mistake leaving you? Every fucking day I wish I’d never done it and that you were still my girl” Joe shouted, the words flying passed his lips. The tension in the apartment was so thick you could almost see it shimmering in the still air, sizzling between you. “Don’t say that to me, Joe” you snarled through the tears, your eyes narrowing dangerously as your hands balled into fists.  “Why can’t I? It’s true!” he shouted, your dismissiveness aggravating him. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t listen, but he’d always held on to that sliver of hope and it was quickly slipping through his fingers. “I’m so sorry, sweets” he begged, desperation in his hazel eyes. “I lost the best thing in my life that day” “And I lost EVERYTHING!” you screamed back, the words you’d held inside for a year ripping at your throat. “For fucks sake Joe I loved your dad too!” you sobbed, your chest aching. A dead weight settled in Joe’s stomach as he watched you shatter in front of him. “And I lost him. And then on top of that I lost the love of my fucking life” “Sweets, I’m –” “And I lost your mum. Your brother. Your sister. Gwil. Lucy. Rami. Ben – everyone!” you cried, “and you honestly thought we could come back from that?” the scoff that left your mouth felt like a dagger through Joe’s heart. “We’re meant to be together, Y/N” he muttered through gritted teeth, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. “I know you don’t want to think about it but you know it’s true. If you could just -” “Joe” a firm voice interrupted. He turned to see Flick standing in doorway to her bedroom, clad in rumpled pyjamas with her arms folded over her chest. “You need to leave now” “But –” he tried to explain, desperately gesturing to you but she shook her head. Her brown eyes drifted to you, sobbing quietly into your hands. “No” she commanded, stepping into the living room. You immediately gravitated towards her and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling your shaking frame tightly into her side. “You’ve done enough” she whispered as you buried your face in the soft fabric of her shirt. You didn’t hear the slam of the front door as Joe left the apartment. Only the sound of your thundering heartbeat flooded your ears as you cried into her neck. “It’s okay” Flick soothed, running her hand comfortingly up and down your back. “You’re okay. It’s going to be alright” Despite her kind words you felt your heart splintering in your chest. A part of you had always wondered if he regretted that day, if he’d change things if he could. You’d always thought the unanswered questions were the hardest part of it. But somehow this was worse.

TAG TIME!!! - again if you want to be tagged just let me know in the replies or message me! @sunflower-borhap-boys @blushingwueen @briarrose26 @mrsmazzello @escabell@yourealegendroger @sincereleygmg @zvzxs @dramatique-moi @borhapqueen92 @manuosorioh @deakyjohns @rogwhoretaylor @dinkiplier Stay tuned for more next wednesday! 

[ukcps]

Congratulations to Monique Castellani-Kraan for winning Best in Show at the UKCPS Keswick Exhibition 2021.

Monique has kindly share some background information on her wonderful piece Kisses in Blue.

I drew my first hyacinth macaw back in 2015, and it was wonderful being able to revisit the same subject again with “Kisses in Blue”. Parrots are honestly such a delight to draw. Their colours are bright and happy, and they have so much character. I will also always jump at the chance to get out my blue coloured pencils!

I started work on this piece back in January. After a long spate of only making miniature pet commissions over the Christmas period, which was slowly sending me into a spiral of madness, I decided to overcompensate by starting my largest drawing to date, at 40 x 50cm (16 x 20 inches approx).

As someone with a background in digital painting, I like to do all of my sketches and compositions digitally nowadays to transfer to paper. That way my expensive watercolour paper stays free of eraser marks and errant sketch lines. It saves a lot of time in the long run, and if I mess up I can very easily just print out the sketch again to start over. I don't know what I'd do without my iPad!

This drawing proved to be a little intimidating because of the size I was working at. I ended up setting it aside for a few months. You know that famous "fear of the blank canvas" we've all experienced? This one hit me hard. I got a tiny section of the eye and surrounding feathers done and then proceeded to swiftly run away, back to the safety of drawing miniatures! A few months later, I finally decided to stop hiding and to give this piece a proper go. As I got into the rhythm of it I quickly felt myself being sucked into that "zone" of intense focus - where time just slips away until it's suddenly dark outside and you've skipped a meal!

Now that I had finally got my toes wet, I was gaining confidence. Art is a bit like exercise - it takes effort and routine to get into the swing of it - but once I do, I feel like I'm flying! With every new drawing I'm reminded of just how much I adore coloured pencils and how fun the process is.

Translating the reference photo’s feathers on the left macaw’s cheek was proving to be a bit of a challenge. I could only stare for so long at the complicated mess of shadows without going cross-eyed - so I decided to treat myself to tackling the beak first instead. If ever you find yourself in a rut with a painting, look for the deepest, darkest shadows in your reference, and block those in first. You will have a much easier time once they're there. Here, the darkest shadows were the inside of the macaws' mouths, so I put my much-loved Polychromos black to work, blending with paint thinner in between each layer and tinting it with Luminance Dark Indigo to get it nice and deep. Now that the darkest shadows were blocked in, I would have a much easier time in the areas surrounding it. That shadow became my reference point for judging the values for the beak, skin and feathers nearby.

I used Daler Rowney Low Odour Thinner to blend my pencils in between layers, with a flat taklon brush. I primarily used it in the first few layers of the underpainting. The yellow skin on the beak was a tricky customer with this - my blending brushes had to be impeccably clean, or else I would end up turning it green with the blues being so close by. In addition, I didn't want the very pale yellows getting contaminated by the oranges that are in the shadows. I made sure to carefully wipe my brush off thoroughly on some paper towel before blending in small areas at a time.

Beaks are so much fun to draw! They have a lot going on, from subtle colour shifts, to chips and cracks and ridges. The texture is a treat for the eyes! Here, I started by creating a gradient of soft earthy purples, greys and creams in the underpainting. At this stage I used mostly a mix of Luminance and Polychromos pencils. For underpaintings, I like to go darker than what the final result will be - though some would say I go a little TOO dark (coloured pencil is technically a light to dark workflow because they are mostly transparent).

After blending it with OMS, and making sure it's still a little damp, I go in with my pale tones from the Derwent Lightfast, Caran d'Ache Luminance and Holbein lines. These brands are soft and have more wax than oil in them, making them very creamy and more opaque than brands like Polychromos. Because the paper is still saturated with paint thinner, the pencil melts as it makes contact with the paper, making it go on super thick, even though I'm only pressing gently. This is my dirty little secret for how I work from dark to light in all of my coloured pencil pieces. The paper you're using, of course, is paramount for this technique too. If you're not using a good paper, you're going to run out of tooth extremely quickly using this technique. This piece was drawn on Saunders Waterford Hot Pressed 300gsm- and I wholeheartedly recommend it!

However, I just want to add that if you have an area or texture you want to keep REALLY light, for example a large white crack in the beak, you should draw that in first before doing anything else. That way, when you put your underpainting over it and blend with paint thinner, the white detail you added first will show through, clear as day! (This is great for whiskers on cats and dogs for example) You can also use a ceramic cutter to do this afterwards instead, though personally I have yet to use one myself.

After finishing the beaks, it was time to face the feathers on the birds’ bodies head-on. As always, I block in my darkest shadows first and then my underpainting, giving it a good blend out with plenty of OMS. This is so that I don't get lost in a sea of repeating shapes. Without doing this, I find it's very easy for your artwork to end up all the same value with not enough contrast between the highlights and shadows. I also rough in where I want each contour feather to be on the bird’s chest with a dark blue, though I only very gently line them in with my pencil so I can still move things around if needed while I build on the textures and detail.

Once the underpainting is done I am free to start pulling out those details. I went feather-by-feather, preferring to go in with my lighter coloured pencils first, gently pulling out each feather’s barbs. After that, staying mindful of how the lighting is hitting each feather, I used my mid tone and darker pencils to work in between each barb, gradually building up shadows. I also glazed in shadows over this with a very gentle hand to give the overall shape of the feather form and depth.

It can be tempting to rush through areas like this where there is lots of uniform texture, but it’s important to stay patient and take your time. Body feathers especially can become indecipherable after a certain point, because they all overlap and merge into each other. Sometimes even though the reference photo is sharp as a tack and super clear, there is just so much going on that it wouldn't 'read' well as an artwork. So I used my reference to help me with the general structure and composition, and to inform me on how the shapes and textures should look. But I didn’t stress about getting it exact.

Once you have good knowledge of a subject, after doing study sketches and looking at lots of different references, you can be a lot freer with how you approach your final artwork. A lot of the colours, textures and feather placement in ‘Kisses in Blue’ were not there in the reference. I opted to go for a much warmer, cheerful blue. The reference I was using was also fairly flat as it was taken on an overcast day, meaning the lighting was quite diffused. I made my artwork brighter than my reference material, pushing the overall contrast between the midtones and the deepest shadows. I also found myself intermingling soft lilac hues and subtle teal with my Polychromos and Luminance pencils, almost over-exaggerating the birds’ vibrancy. I tried not to stress too much about feathers either - while getting the shape and placement of feathers right on wings can be paramount to a realistic piece, the same does not apply for contour feathers and down feathers. As long as you stick to the right shapes and sizes, paying attention to the bird’s form, you don’t need to get it looking exactly like your reference.

I try my best to bring myself out of my comfort zone with each new drawing. This piece was my biggest challenge yet – quite literally. I’m glad I pushed myself to draw larger than I am used to and I can see why a lot of coloured pencil artists like working at this size – while it is more time-consuming, you have much more room to breathe and fit details in, that would normally get lost in a smaller piece. With my choice of composition and lighting, I wanted to convey a feeling of intimacy and closeness with the birds that I don’t think I would have been able to achieve were this drawing smaller.

[lonewolfwriter]

A Taste Of Hazel Chapter 8

Fangmyer left Nick knowing full well he better get back to the office and face his punishment. He had even prepared, by taking off his tie and taking his badge from his wallet.

He starred longingly at the shiny brass that had ZPD etched deep into it. “I became a cop to protect...” he muttered sadness washing over him as he thought back to all the horrible wrong the ZPD had done to Nick.

“This has been my whole life” he explained to himself, thinking of how he would let this badge drop into the hands of the likes of one Jack Savage.

As he starred at the badge he remembered back to high school, being bashed for being in love, he knew Nicks pain, he could feel it each time he looked into his friends eyes. But if the ZPD has changed from protecting the innocent and hiring the scum, then Fangmyer knew, he would gladly hand over the badge.

He got to the ZPD and as soon as he entered the front doors Chuck was sitting on the front counter; Clawhauser’s desk, holding an ice pack to his eyes, Delgato patting his back. His face looked like an artist got mad at a block of clay and simply went to work on it with his fists.

As Fangmyer strolled through the door both Chuck and Delgato look to him, only when he was inside did he notice Jack standing offside, with a notepad in his paws taking down a statement, Fangmyer reached into his back pocket preparing to hand over his badge.

Jack followed Delgato and Chuck’s gaze before turning back to Chuck.

“And you didn’t get a good look at the guy?” quizzed Jack with a disbelieving glance. Chuck and Delgato, whose eyes stayed poised on Fangmyer, simply nodded in agreement to Jack’s statement.

He flicked the notepad shut turning to look at Fangmyer.

“Odd” is all Jack stated, his eyes giving a quick glance to Fangmyer’s swollen knuckles.

“Take him and get him stitched up” ordered Jack pivoting to point at Delgato and Chuck.

Delgato and Chuck both got up heading for the door, neither set of their eyes leaving Fangmyer, who had to struggle to hold back a hiss.

“Tragic isn’t it” interrupted Jack, catching Fangmyer’s attention “the streets are a dangerous place, looks like the new recruit learnt that the hard way”, Jacks eyes scrutinised Fangmyer as he spoke.

“Yeah, better to learn rules like that early on” confirmed Fangmyer.

“So what are you doing back?” pried Jack, flicking his sleeve up to check his watch.

“You aren’t meant to be on break for another hour and a half”

Fangmyer casually held up his ticket machine, “Out of paper” he lied, playing the game Jack so obviously wanted to play.

“You’re a good officer Fangmyer; but you better watch your actions and attitude”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to Jack” replied Fangmyer

“Chief” corrected Jack “Chief Savage, and I’m talking about how you have been conducting yourself and please keep your anger under control”

“Your one to talk” muttered Fangmyer.

“What was that?” asked Jack raising his ear, as if he didn’t hear Fangmyer but so obviously did.

Fangmyer took a deep breath; “I said, sir yes sir”.

“Good, get back to those cars” dismissed Jack.

Fangmyer turned and went to leave, a demonic, victories grin made its way across Jacks lips.

“Fangmyer?”

Fangmyer turned “Yes sir?” he grumbled with as much respect in his tone as he could muster.

“I thought you needed more paper?”

Fangmyer turned and feigned a smile, annoyed he had been caught out, but he kept his cool “That’s correct, thank you Jack” he confirmed as he walked past Savage to head to the stationary cupboard to go get more parking ticket paper.

“Chief” corrected Savage as Fangmyer past him.

Fangmyer froze next to him; “Thank you, Chief” said Fangmyer trying to keep his cool. 

“One last thing Fang’s”

“Fangmyer” corrected Fangmyer staring down on the rodent.

“Fangmyer”, corrected Jack.

Jack went to speak, he needed to ask Fangmyer, he needed to know if Nick was okay, for his daughter …and himself , but then he heard it, he heard Nick speak into his ear; the voice coming from over his should; soft and ominous.

Jacks eyes stayed poised forward and his mouth hung open.

Fangmyer went to get angry when he saw the look on Jacks face, and by god he knew the look, it was the same look, the look he had seen a thousand times, the look Darla had given him when her brother and his friends bashed him and put him in hospital, guilt.

Fangmyer took a knee placing his giant paw on Jacks shoulder as he sat paralysed, stunned like a fish out of water. Jack cranked his neck against some deathly invisible force to look at Fangmyer, hoping for comfort.

Fangmyer leaned in deep so his mouth was right in Jacks ear, the overbearing shadow of Nick’s ghost whispered frantically in one ear from behind him and Fangmyer whispered into his left from in front.

“Act tough all you want, but I see through you Savage….If you think the guilt of what you have done goes away Jack, it doesn’t”

Fangmyer pulled back slowly, a strained tear gently rolling down the fur of Jacks face. Fangmyer tapped him twice on the shoulder, simply got up and walked away, Jack simply swaying with the taps standing silent and cold starring into the void.

“Have a good day Chief” called back Fangmyer heading for the door.

Jacks scrapped at the barrel for something to yell back but came back empty, turning and running towards his office, his alcohol and his meds.

Nick was going through store after store; searching racks of clothing for a nice uniform he could wear. Each time he would enter another shop, cruel judgmental glances and whispers would follow; Nick however ignored the scrutiny and drew strength from one thought, the eyes of a vixen, that he pictured watching him, with care and grace.

He stood in front of a rack in K-9mart, a confused and frustrated look plastered to his face, he held a blue shirt in one paw and a black shirt held in the other, they were the exact same shirt apart from colour.

“Excuse me” he whispered gesturing a paw in the air to get one of the worker’s attention. He was ignored by the workers however a very fuzzy and well dressed she wolf noticed his pleas and smiled walking toward Nick.

As the wolf approached Nick her smile became concealing across her face; as if she recognised Nick. She was white as snow, with blue eyes and dressed extremely elegantly.

She promptly walked over “Hello, Maybe I can help?” she asked while chewing gum.

Nick went to reply but was taken off; he could see a sly smirk in the corner of her mouth, she was much younger then Nick, but her eyes danced over him.

Nick held both shirts out, “Which colour do you think would suit me?”

The she-wolf smiled taking a knee; grabbing both, placing them over his chest before changing to the other colour.

“Hmm” she began “Depends” she finally conceded.

“On what” Asked Nick

“What’s it for? I mean this one would be a good going out shirt” she explained holding up the blue shirt to his torso.

“It’s for a job interview” he confirmed.

“Doing?”

“Bar tending…hopefully”.

She smiled, “Oh, that’s easy, definitely the black”.

“You should try it on?” continued the wolf.

Nick felt self-conscious, he knew he stunk, he knew his clothes were tattered and old, and yet this she-wolf gazed upon him, with such admiration that it made Nick kind of uncomfortable.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he quizzed abruptly; unable to take the odd behaviour any longer, looking around as if it was a big joke about to be played on him.

The she-wolf; had an all too bright smile, like she had been waiting for Nick to ask that question. The wolf went chest to chest with him before she knelt right next to him and put her muzzle to his ear “I know who you are Nicholas Wilde” she whispered with a cute, seductive wink as she pulled away.

Without another word, she reached her paw to her own ear and began to undo one of her love heart shaped earring.

“If you’re going to work in a bar, you’ll need an earring”.

Without any consent, she pushed the earring through Nick’s ear, who flinched back only a little. Before she licked his ear two or three times wiping away the blood, she stood back to admire her handy work.

“There you go, much better” she confirmed.

She placed her paw to the side of Nicks face “See you later cutie” she said kissing his cheek; as she slid her paw across his face and turned to walk away.

Nick stood stunned and completely confused, he gently moved his paw up, touching the piercing, his ear hurt only a little.

“Who the hell?” he spoke to himself completely at a loss of who the she-wolf was.

By the time Nick finished shopping and the she wolf was no longer in his thoughts, Nick had bought several loads of clothes, changing into a new shirt and pants and throwing the old ones away, although he had been scrutinised the entire time he was shopping, he was happy that he was refreshed.

He had bought a green shirt with leaves over it, as similar to his old clothes as he could get, and some generic brown slacks.

However, he did not wear these, instead he sported a black shirt and pants, thinking that, this uniform would be more proper to go to a job interview in. He was walking down the street, several bags of clothes in his paws, a bottle of aftershave, toothbrush and comb and his old tatty bag he had gone back to the park to collect; flung over his shoulders. He felt on top of the world with the little he had.

He got to the watering Hole and waited outside, it was only 2:00 and he knew he had to be there at 5. He had some money left and saw a small coffee stand just down the ways, he leisurely made his way to it and waited in queue.

He got to the front and there was a Rhino and a Buffalo both talking. “Hello sirs” he greeted.

“Oh great another fox” grumbled the Rhino, ceasing to talk and looking away while the Buffalo turned to Nick. “Hey can’t you-”

“See you were talking?” finished Nick, “perhaps you should be working instead” he snapped.

The buffalo pulled his head back insulted  “Excuse me?”

Nick pointed a claw; he knew the Buffalo and Rhino didn’t remember him, but Nick sure remembered them. They were the same two that had made Nick wait to speak to a manager when he had gone for a job once before. Only to find out he was being made to waste his time.

“You heard me” Nick growled “You shouldn’t be talking during work, you should be serving”.

“Oh yeah, or what?”

Nick thought for a moment before he remembered a very specific scenario that had worked a charm, in a similar situation.

Nick smirked dropping his ear to the side a sincere look on his face projecting his voice for all to hear.

“I’m so glad you asked! I mean are your customers aware you were found to be using stale bread thrown away by the bakery?” he explained walking over to a table and gesturing to an armadillo eating a sandwich. The Armadillo looked at the shop owner, opening her mouth so a slop of half chewed sandwich fell onto her plate; she placed the rest of sandwich down and walked away from their al fresco Cafe.

Nick flicked a claw in the air and took centre stage now that all eyes were on him; “Or how about the worse fact that this rhino” gestured Nick to the Rhino standing next to the owner, “is selling you homemade rhino milk to make your coffee…isn’t that against regulation? Section 12 of the food act clearly states you need to be buying from a pasteurised and certified business, not a friend” he accused.

He paused for a moment for dramatical effect, leaning against a table “And male rhinos for that matter” added Nick matter of factly, leaning casually on a table where other animals sat.

“Male Rhino’s don’t have milk” interjected one customer with a coffee in hoof.

Nick gave him a sympathetic glare; “I know…” he explained gently rubbing his claw across a table, a look of apologetic regret on his face.

Nick heard one customer who sat at a seat spit his coffee out; understanding what Nick was trying to say. Nick trying with all his strength not to blurt out laughter.

The Buffalo and Rhino stood shocked at Nick’s allegations.

“We’ll now that this is done, I bid you adieu” he confirmed saluting them before strolling off pleased with himself. He looked back to shout one last thing over his shoulder “I hope business goes well, hang in there”.

As he walked away he saw several customers also get up and leave. The Buffalo and Rhino yelling at him as he walked away, while simultaneously being swamped with customers demanding refunds.

Nick sat on a bench across from the watering hole, a gleeful feeling deep in his gut, this is the Nick he knew, this was the Nick he remembered. He had not felt so alive in so long that it was making him shake with happiness.

He checked the watch he bought, he had only fifteen minutes to wait, he thought he would head in early to show promptness and that he was keen.

Nick entered the pub the rickety door creaking open, inside the air was stale and smelt of old beer he poked his head in but couldn’t see anyone. A cool breeze seeming to be ever present in the waterin Hole atmosphere; likely because the air-con above the bar was always pumping.

“Hello” he whispered in a shout.

“Oh hey sweetie, come in” came a voice from seemingly nowhere.

Nick walked in, the door shutting gently behind him, from behind the bar stood Pricilla, a tray of glasses in her grasp.

“Hey stranger” she yipped gleefully placing the glasses on the top of the bar, before walking around and giving Nick the tightest hug he had ever felt.

“Hey” he nervously replied, hugging her back.

“Nickie” she sighed “what happened ta you? I never got a cawl? And now you show up oudda thin air, how ya bin?”

Nick didn’t reply he just shook his head.

“Dat bad huh? ere have a beer” she offered walking back behind the bar, she raised a glass and began pouring him an ale.

Nick was going to decline, he hadn’t drank beer in such a long time, but by the time he went to protest the glass was half full and he felt his throat beg for the cool indulgence.

The crisp white head frothed over the top sliding down the side of the glass and the glass instantly became moist with dew, the bronze colour and tip of the beer showed it was a perfect pour, obviously hours of practise, she placed the beer on a coaster and slid it in front of Nick, who watched as the bubbling carbon dioxide made its way from the base of the glass to the head of the beer.

“Thank you” he stated taking a seat at the bar grabbing his lower back as he sat, a slight nerve pain shooting up his spine. He grabbed the beer in the other paw and tilted his head back to let the moist beverage make its way down his throat, the tingling in his back slightly subsiding, he downed half the beer when he stopped to take a breath.

“Whoa, easy tiger, you might choke” giggled Pricilla.

Nick put the glass down and took an almighty huff to get his breath back.

Pricilla proceeding to only laugh louder as Nickie now sat on the bar stool with a foam moustache made from the froth of the beer.

Nick looked down at what she was laughing and pointing at, he rolled his eyes with a smile and wrapped his tongue around his lips to clear it.

They both chuckled and as the chuckles slowly subsided the conversation became more serious.

“What happened der?” quizzed Pricilla, noticing the pain inflicted on Nickie simply trying to take a seat.

“I got shot in the back” he explained coldly “three times…”

Nick wrapped his paws around the cold glass and took another swig, it had been years since he had a drink.

“So, whacha afta anywayz?”

“Just some work” explained Nick.

“Day shift, night shift?”

Nick laughed a little, he gathered that Pricilla didn’t understand that he was at her mercy, or perhaps she did realise and was simply being kind.

“Any shift”.

“Okay sweetheart, I’ll put tagether a rosta for ya and we’ll get ya started ASAP, Most likely night shift, cause you’re a fox and you’ll mainly be doing bar work, cause I don’t think youd be able ta do any security work wit dat injury you got, hows dats sound?””

“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve heard for a very long time” he confirmed. There was a paused, while Nick thought of one other thing “Pricilla?”

“Ye Nickie?”

“Do you guys have rooms here?”

“Coarse we do sweetheart, whys dat?”

Nick drank the rest of his drink; Pricilla had done right by him, the least he could do was let her know why he never called. Once he had finish his beer he proceeded to explain all that had happened to him to Pricilla, throughout Nick’s story her face went from horror to shock to anger to pity and by the end she simply reached into her apron and placed down a small keychain on the bar her eyes moist with tears.

“You can stay ere for as long as you need sweetheart” she confirmed with her hand over her mouth, she had never heard such dread from anyone before or seen a fox look so hollow.

Nick picked up the keys in his paws, holding them and just starring for the longest moment before he looked to Pricilla with reverence

“Thank you” he choked.

She just nodded, sniffing, trying to compose herself.

“You’re on the third floor, room 21”

“What about payment?”

Pricilla wiped her tears on her apron and feigned a laugh “Don’t be a dunce Nickie”  

Nick smiled holding the key close to his chest walking to the stair case and going up to find his room.

As he was about to be out of site Pricilla called out.

“You can do a practise shift on the weekend if you’d like?”

Nick turned poking his head out so only his shoulder and head were visible from the doorway and with a smile replied “That would be awesome”.

Nick went to leave when Pricilla called him and he poked his head out once more.

“I like your ear ring Nickie, it suits you”

Nick had completely forgot the earring and flicked his ear to bring it to eye level, starring at the love heart, he smiled at Pricilla putting his ear back in place, but then his thoughts became congested by the thought of who the she-wolf was once again as he headed up to his new room.

It was seven o’clock and Jack turned his computer off grabbing his coat and rubbing his red, sore eyes, his meds making him drowsy and the hidden bottle in his desk not helping by any stretch of the imagination.

“Long day captain?”

“Always” he confirmed looking up; only to see the room was empty.

“Nooo, Nooo” he grumbled, sluggishly making his way over to his desk, going to his top draw and taking out some more medication; taking three tablets. He walked over to the wall collapsing against it and placing his eyes in his paws.

“Just stop” he pleaded.

“Stop what?” asked a familiar voice.

Jack cautiously looked up, fearing he would see his haunting illusions; however he looked up from his paw to see Clawhauser standing in the room.

“How long have you been there?” asked Jack

“I just walked in?” confirmed Clawhauser.

“What do you want?” continued Jack; trying to sound professional, but realising he was sprawled out on the floor leaning on the wall.

“Aaare you okay sir?” questioned Clawhauser a little concerned. “Fine, just tired, what do you want?”

Clawhauser reached into a folder and pulled out a small booklet of papers stapled together; handing it to Jack.

“Is this okay?” he asked

Jack took the book, flicking through the pages, checking prices and what the place had to offer”

“If you want this one I need to lock it in, they need three months for a party of this size”

Without a thought, Jack just nodded handing it back to him “Set up for like 7:00pm, put on a bar tab, food, the works”

“Got it” confirmed Clawhauser going to leave.

“Oh, and Clawhauser”

Clawhauser stopped in the door; turning to listen to Jack.

“Try and keep the surprise party a surprise this year” chuckled Jack.

Clawhauser chuckled nervously and saluted “Yes sir, I’ll try sir”.

Jack dragged himself to his feet once Clawhauser had left, he took a few deep breathes, keeping his eyes poised on the exit, before heading for the door; ignoring the shadow that sat swivelling in his chair, in his peripherals.

Maria had finished four hours earlier then Jack and sat at home with Alison, they were on the sofa watching a movie together, ‘A fox tales”, Alison’s favourite movie.

They sat eating popcorn and Alison was quoting the movie word for word. Maria smiled, as her daughter sat in awe at the characters on the screen.

“You know, this was you fathers favourite movie and he use to do the same thing, he was able to quote every single word of this movie”

Alison, who was only partially listening, picked up the remote and paused the movie, a strange look on her face.

“What?” she asked, not hearing what her mum had said or thinking she misheard her.

“I said this was your father’s favourite movie, he loved watching this” repeated Maria with a deep smile, that was soon washed away at the look on Alison’s face.

“Dad HATES this movie” Alison confirmed.

Maria was confused for a moment before she realised her mistake, Nick loved a fox tales…. Not Jack.

Maria quickly giggled, slapping a paw to her forehead “Oh silly me-” she confirmed

“Must have been another movie similar to this that your father liked. Ha-ha popcorn?”.

Alison nodded reaching her tiny paw into the bowl; pressing play on the remote with her other paw, but felt something deep inside her guts twist.

Maria sat in bed once the movie was over and Alison had been tucked in. she was reading a new book that was on the top of the best sellers “A wolf in sheep’s clothing” it was about a wolf and a sheep who had fallen in love, the wolf having been killed by his pack for loving someone he shouldn’t have. She had gone through twelve pages when her eyes closed.

“Say slick” began Judy as she and Nick watched ‘A fox tales’ “what would you name your kids if you had any?”

“Oh you know me carrots, kids are annoying brats!” he confirmed; waving his paw at her dismissively.

“Naw, come on Nick, just imagine you found the girl of your dreams, what would you call your little Nicks?” she asked again as she walked off to make more popcorn

Nick sat starring at Judy as she danced around the kitchen; “Alison, I would call our daughter Alison” he whispered

“Huh?”

Nick shook his head with a laugh “My daughter, Alison would be her name and if I had a boy, probably Jasper” he explained with a nervous chuckle.

Judy sat placing the popcorn in the microwave, blushing; she had heard Nick the first time.

“What about you?”

“I would call our kids, anything you wanted” she whispered into the microwave.

Judy woke to the bed shaking and gently grasped her small paws around her head; only stopping when she saw a dark silhouette to the side of her, Jack was trying his best to sly his way into the bed without waking her. She glanced at the clock it was almost 10:00pm

As he was pulling the blankets up he saw Maria had her eyes open starring at him

“I’m sorry did I wake you?” he groaned, annoyed he was not able to slip in without annoying her and nervous she may smell the undenying scent of alcohol on his breath.

Maria was to sleepy to noticed and simply yawned, throwing her book to the ground and wrapping her arms around his waist snuggling close to him as he reached out to turn off the bedside light.

“It’s okay, I was having a nightmare anyway” she explained, placing her head gently between his masculine shoulder blades, spooning him and trying to get back to sleep.

However there was a pit in her stomach and although she tried with all her years of training to fill it with paperwork, family time and exercise, she knew it was the shape of a fox and could not be filled, no matter how long she was trained or how long she went to therapy to be convinced she was Maria Savage, some part of her would always be Judy Hopps, who fell in love with a dumb fox and left him for dead.

AUTHOURS NOTE: Hey guys =] so good to be back with more time; So, as requested(by one of my awesome followers) I rolled like 2-3 chapters into one long one; this will probably be the last one for like another week or so, as I go back to my other job (where tumblr is locked)- No art this time, people wanted it quick, I hope that is okay for everyone. anyways guys, I hope you enjoy as always and leave some feedbax =D

[hashtagartistlife]

That’s the definition of a soulmate, isn’t it? One soul, two halves, split between two separate forms. Alike in every respect.

In a world where people are born with a coloured marking somewhere on their body, your soulmate is supposed to be the one who carries the exact same mark. Kurosaki Ichigo has never put much stock in these things — and the fact that his black sun mark and Rukia’s white crescent moon is as different as night and day has nothing to do with it. Ichiruki soulmates AU- maybe. 

(Hey guys! This was my entry for IRBB! I have two chapters written - the next chapter will go up next week - and then the rest of the fic will join my roster of wip fics to be updated... when I have time.... hahahaha //cries// 

My partner @jellyribbons did the CUTEST art for my fic, which YOU CAN FIND HERE. Thank you for being such a gem, juliet, even when I didn’t give you much to work with 8ㅁ8

And now, without further ado, please enjoy my irbb fic--

Collision Course

by hashtagartistlife

  One

Gravitational Collapse

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There’s a black mark on Ichigo’s palm.

He’s never spent too much time contemplating it. People attribute so many things to these tiny coloured markings that appear on their skin. They say it tells you the kind of person you are, the kind of person you’re going to be. They say the person you’re destined to be with — your soulmate — has the exact same mark somewhere on their body. Because that’s what the definition of a soulmate is, isn’t it— one soul, two halves, split between two separate forms.  Alike in every respects. There are entire religions based around this concept, dating sites that cater exclusively to making sure you meet up with your other half. Psychics that claim they can read your entire future from that one mark alone.

Ichigo thinks, it’s just a goddamn birthmark.

He hates all this destiny crap surrounding these marks. When Tatsuki had asked him at the age of thirteen what his mark looked like, he’d scowled and told her to shove off. His hand had clenched, reflexive, around the shape getting ever-clearer against his tanned skin. She’d harrumphed, unperturbed, and informed him hers was the shape of a crimson eagle and that it clearly meant she was destined for greater things than him, if his mark was still the misshapen blob she remembers it being when he was nine. He’d responded that her mark looks more like a puddle of spew than the eagle she claimed it to be, and she’d thrown a well-aimed kick at his shoulder and the conversation had been dropped.

By the time he’s fifteen, the mark is well and truly etched onto his skin, no longer misshapen by any stretch of the imagination. Still, he refuses to pay too much attention to it, refuses to try to analyse the shape it’s settled into. It’s all bullshit, anyway. If he squints, he thinks you could almost mistake it for an ink-black sun — see? Bullshit. There was only one sun in his life, and she’d set six years ago and taken all the light in his family with her. His mother was the sun, the one holding them all together with her gravity; not him. And if his soulmate is anything like him, if they, too, are represented by a dark black sun mark somewhere on their body, then he wants nothing to do with them. He wants nothing to do with himself, most days.

So when Keigo asks, exuberant, innocent, what his mark is, Ichigo looks him straight in the eye and tells him he doesn’t believe in destiny.

 And he doesn’t. Not even now, after she comes barreling into his life and gifts him a power he thought he’d never have; after she fits into the cracks and crevices in his life so seamlessly he forgets there were cracks there in the first place. She sleeps in his closet and steals his food and charms all his friends (and he has those, he notices all of a sudden; he has a lot more of those than he had last reckoned, when had they all got there—?), and Ichigo would like to say he’s irritated, only he isn’t. She’s so different to him, and he can’t seem to get a handle on her the way he has with other people in his life. But still, somehow— they’re the same when it comes to the things that matter. He won’t put that down to something as illusory as destiny, though, won’t do their bond that disservice; what he has with Rukia is real, built on tangible things like shared grief and mutual irritation.

He catches a glimpse of her mark once, just once— soon after his fight with Grand Fisher. It’s a windy day, and her uniform skirt rides high on her legs for a single instant. It’s not like he was looking, he swears, but he doesn’t have time to turn away before the flash of bare skin has him rooted to the spot, turning bright red. She notices, of course she does, and smooths her skirt down, aiming a sharp elbow into his ribs. He doubles over and pretends to have not seen the shape on her upper thigh, almost imperceptible against her paleness. A white crescent moon, a mark that couldn’t have been more different to his own than night and day.

It’s nothing he doesn’t already know, and he tells himself the small twinge of emotion that goes through him at this revelation isn’t disappointment at all.

  “Of course shinigami are aware of the concept,” she says brusquely when the subject comes up, after a long day of Keigo trying to wheedle the location and shape of her mark out of Rukia. It’s considered— if not rude, then a little gauche to ask it of people, but that’s never stopped Keigo before. She perches on his desk and swings her legs to and fro; her dress is getting rucked up around her thighs and Ichigo bites back a caustic remark. It’s better than her sitting on his bed, at least. “We were all human once, too. We just don’t put that much stock in it, is all.”

This surprises him more than he cares to admit. “Why?” he asks, careful to keep his eyes trained on his homework lest he seem too interested.

She snorts. “We are soldiers, Ichigo. Love and partnership have no place in our lives. And besides, most of us have lived for hundreds of years, well beyond a single human lifespan, and have never managed to come across our so-called ‘other halves’. If they truly do exist and I was destined to spend the rest of my life together with them, you’d think the universe might have made it a little easier to meet them, no?”

He sits up slowly. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he says, and he doesn’t miss the way her shoulders tense up the tiniest bit. “I said, do you believe in all that soulmates crap associated with these marks?”

“Of course not, you fool,” she snaps, but something in her eyes are telling him yes, yes. Her fist bunches in the fabric of her dress, which has ridden up high enough that he thinks he’s almost going to see her mark again; but then she jumps off his desk in a fluid motion and her dress settles around her legs once more. She turns away from him and climbs into his closet. “Do you?”

She doesn’t know he’s seen her mark yet, but he knows she’s seen his; it was one of the drawbacks of having it in a more obvious place. As much as Ichigo doesn’t believe in the mythology surrounding these marks, a part of him is uncomfortable with the idea. It feels too much like wearing his heart on his sleeve to have it so visible, that people will see it and draw whatever conclusion they like about him through this insignificant blotch of pigment — not that his hair doesn’t already have the same effect. He thinks of this, of the fact that she knows their marks don’t match, and wonders whether she’ll think of it too when she hears his response. Wonders why it should matter at all.

“No,” he says, and his voice is firm. Behind the shut closet door, Rukia’s silent.

“... Good,” she replies after a while, and if Ichigo didn’t know any better, he’d say her voice was wavery, almost like she was crying. “Silly, human superstition, that’s all it is. Did you know you can fall in love with someone who doesn’t bear your mark?”

He didn’t, but staring at the closet door, fighting an odd urge to slam it open and demand if she was ok, Ichigo thinks he can understand how that might come to happen.

  In hindsight, it’s obvious that not all the couples he sees around him are mark-matched. Human beings are frustratingly contrary creatures, and even if the marks had been a surefire way of finding your romantic soulmate, he’s sure some people (like him) would have said bollocks to that. Tatsuki’s parents, for one, have slightly mismatched marks; Mrs. Arisawa’s is a lime-green leaf, while Mr. Arisawa’s is a viridian blade of grass. Still, Mrs. Arisawa laughs, casting her husband a fond smile, at least their marks were both plants; her sister with a flower mark had married a man with a pouncing tiger over his shoulder. They fought a fair bit, but despite everything, they were still together.

“And so are we,” she declares, plying them all with tea and biscuits as they get on with the study session they’d opened for Rukia’s benefit. “Don’t mind the people who tell you mark-matched coupling is your ultimate goal in life. Romance isn’t the be-all and end-all, and besides, it’s perfectly possible to be wildly in love with someone who doesn’t wear your mark at all.”

“Mom, will you stop being gross? Nobody asked for your sweeping tale of romance with dad,” Tatsuki grumbles, but a good half of their group is listening raptly, hanging onto Mrs. Arisawa’s every word. Even Ishida, detached as he’s trying to appear, is clearly not concentrating as hard on his maths as he would have them believe. Inoue, Keigo and Chad have outright dropped their pens. Only Mizuiro and Rukia seem unperturbed, although maybe that’s the wrong word for Rukia, who is gripping her pencil so tight the tendons are standing out against her skin. Ichigo thinks it’s time to steer the conversation into safer waters.

“Man, how the hell are you supposed to solve this question? Did we learn this?” he complains loudly, throwing his pen down. Several heads turn in his direction, and Ishida mocks him a little for not grasping such a simple concept; it’s Inoue who bows her head over his worksheet and kindly points out the trick to the solution. He nods in gratitude and quickly fills the rest of the question out.

“I— it’s nothing, Kurosaki-kun!” Inoue trills, flashing him a hesitant smile, and he pauses, a little taken aback; he smiles back cautiously, and watches, completely nonplussed, as her cheeks become suffused with red so that the six-petaled flower mark on her cheek becomes very noticeable. The thought pops into his head, unbidden, that he’s sorry for her, to have her mark so prominently on display. But then again, it fits with the kind of person Inoue is; bright, loud, open in her affections for everybody. Flustered, she turns away from him, and once her head moves out of his line of sight he sees Rukia behind her, staring at him with a confused expression.

But you did that question just last night, he knows she’s thinking, and it’s true; he helped her with the very question he pretended not to know just then. He scowls, and hopes it’ll be enough to throw her off the scent.

It is, but not in the way he hoped it would; Rukia inclines her head the tiniest fraction, as though she’s thanking him for what he did, before turning back to her work. Ichigo’s scowl deepens. He did nothing that was deserving of her thanks. It’s not like he moved the conversation along for her; he doesn’t like seeing her so obviously distressed, is all. She needs to be the annoying bitch that she is 95% of the time so he can cuss her out in his mind in peace.

He turns back to his own work, trying to drown out Mrs. Arisawa’s words ringing in his ears.

It’s perfectly possible to be wildly in love with someone who doesn’t wear your mark at all.

He knew this already; a stupid fucking confirmation shouldn’t change anything—

and yet.

  When they come for her, it’s when the moon in the sky resembles the moon on her thigh; a delicate sliver of a thing, barely visible against the inky darkness. Some cocky bastard with dark red hair that reminds Ichigo of old, bad blood and a cold one whose eyes give new meaning to the phrase if looks could kill show up to take Rukia to her execution, because, oh yeah, apparently lending her powers to a human being for any reason is a capital offence. Rukia, fucking Rukia, throw-herself-in-front-of-a-hollow-for-a-stranger Rukia, as-if-I-would-do-anything-to-make-you-worry-about-me Rukia, that Rukia, shuts down in their presence; goes cold and still and withdrawn like the glaciers he learned about in geography class. Something about that picture, her silent and sheet-white and scared against the backdrop of the pavement, strikes him as deeply, profoundly wrong; Rukia shouldn’t be wearing an expression like that. Ever.

He takes up the sword that she has given him and thinks, finally, finally, he’s going to be able to repay his debt to her, but before he can finish the red one off and get to the one with the cold, cold eyes, he falls.

At first he doesn’t quite understand what’s happened; his body spurts blood redder than the cocky bastard’s hair and then there’s the pain of it, belated, bringing him to his knees and further still. He collapses face-first onto the street, into a puddle of his own blood; Rukia screams aniki and the red one slams her into a telephone pole, by the neck. Ichigo struggles to rise, but his limbs won’t heed him, and he’s on the verge of losing consciousness when the cold one (aniki, he was her brother, he was Rukia’s brother) steps in front of him and addresses Rukia for the first time.

“I see, Rukia. This boy… resembles him a great deal.”

Ichigo’s hand shoots out to grab the hem of the cold one’s robes. “Who do I resemble? Don't talk about me like I’m already dead.”

The cold one stills, warns him to remove his hand if he wants to keep it, but Ichigo won't let go, can't let go; every second he manages to keep him rooted there is another second Rukia stays by his side. And he will not cede her, not to someone who looks at her so coldly; he can take his aniki and shove it. Brother or not, Rukia deserves better than someone who makes her look so uneasy in her own skin—

She kicks him.

She kicks him, and his hand falls to the ground; the impact of her foot, tiny as it is, stings like a bitch. She’s saying something, but Ichigo can’t make his brain parse the meaning from her words. His mind is filled with static, rising and rising like the tides; her eyes have gone cold just like her brother’s, and for the first time Ichigo thinks he can see the resemblance. But this is Rukia, Rukia; Rukia who shared his space and lived under his skin for the past three months. It can’t end like this.

She turns her back to him, and Ichigo feels panic close his throat; he yells at her to stop, to look at him properly, but she won’t, she won’t. And if the last memory he ever has of her are those warm eyes gone cold, he won’t be able to stand it. Look at me, please.

She does, and he almost wishes she hadn’t. The tears on her face, like a premonition of rain, and Ichigo remembers being nine and helpless; wet with someone else’s blood and alive because of someone else’s sacrifice. He wants to reach out for her, because surely this time, he’ll be able to protect; but six years hasn’t made an iota of difference and he can only watch as she saves him again with her words and her actions, stepping beyond the gate to somewhere he can’t follow.

The last thing he sees before the paper doors slide shut punches all the air out of his lungs; a directive from the heavens as if to say this is not your concern. For a fleeting moment, the wind lifts the scarf from the cold one’s collarbones; there, etched onto milk-white skin, is a familiar mark.

A crescent moon.

The first drops of rain hit the pavement, and Ichigo drops his head to the ground and screams.