#i will share because this is shaping up to be a weeks long project

[dendroculus]

my white ass CANNOT be trusted with interior design software

[bengiyo]

Love is Better the Second Time Around Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Shiraishi didn't tell Iwanaga about a deadline to put Miyata in a rough position. Miyata went to see Iwanaga at a hot spring and get him to finish the article. As expected, there was no way for Miyata to leave afterwards and so they shared a hotel room. Miyata felt the tension of their situation and they had their first time. Later, when pushed by Iwanaga, Miyata refused to date him because he feels like he's letting his younger self down by losing to Iwanaga on the professional, romantic, and sexual fronts. Also, he told Shiraishi to stop being so insufferable.

Hold on, I'm interested in the senior's affair and how that's going to inform Miyata's choices.

That's right, Miyata! Don't let that mean twink get away with it twice!!

Oh shit Iwanaga's sick! It's time for the tropes!!

Fuck yes!! I was hoping Shiraishi would open the door!! I love how their interactions have become bitchier in each episode.

I like Miyata's attempt to hold the high ground.

Good news, gays! Iwanaga has at least a 75" TV.

Sweetie, you are not in good shape if you're jerking off to him in the shower.

I'm relieved that Miyata's project was a success.

Oh no. He's drunk and now he's calling him senpai.

He may be drunk, but he held his line. I'm impressed and relieved.

I'm going to be thinking about this exchange after their dinner for a long time.

"It pisses me off." Y'all can just go ahead and bury me.

Another goddamn ex!!

I know I'm going to end up watching this show multiple times in the future, because I'm going to need to marinate for a few hours in the way Miyata was eye-fucking that man all episode while telling him to stand back. I liked Miyata saying essentially that he wants Iwanaga to love him more than he loves him.

[rosie-writings]

Take Everything

Summary: Dream works non stop on a project for months, and even after it’s finished he still seems like he needs to relieve some stress.

Warnings: Dream x Reader smut, Semi-public sex (on Livestream), Teasing, Cockwarming, Rough sex, Hair pulling, Squirting

Words: 4.3k

No Use of Y/N

Title is from ‘Hypnosis’ by Sleep Token

My hands still ached from the shenanigans we got up to in the early morning hours last weekend. It’s far from me to reject any kind of outing with Sam and Colby, and it’s definitely unlike me to finish an adventure completely unscathed.

It was a simple miscalculation.

Colby was pissed because if I was any weaker I would have fallen 60 feet to broken concrete blanketed with glass, and to that I agreed. It would have sucked.

Two hospital visits and eight days later, the slits across the palms of my hands were finally infection and tetanus free. They were wrapped with soft gauze, though, and while embarrassing, they were very relieving. I finally felt free to do what I wanted for myself.

Telling Dream what happened when I got home was honestly scarier than the actual situation. 

“I really don’t understand why you would have to scale the outside of the building though, you’re a dumbass—“

“We went inside, Dream,” I exasperated. “Sam fell through the floor twice! We wanted to get to the top for pictures and I volunteered to go first. I didn’t think the literal fucking—the steel structure around the wall would cave in like that.”

“Well no shit! If you guys are falling through the floors then obviously the building’s gonna fucking collapse!”

“Dream—“

“No, don’t give me that. This is serious!”

“I know it is—“

“Listen to me,” he demanded. My throat closed tightly as he took my wrists in his hands so he could see the damage. Bandages still covered the wounds, but we both knew how nasty they were. “This can’t happen every goddamn time you go out with them or else you won’t anymore.”

“And you’re the one who decides that?”

“Since you clearly can’t for yourself, yeah!”

“What the fuck is going on down here?” We both looked as George entered the room from the stairs. I yanked my hands from Dream to hide the bandages, but George already saw. “What happened to you?”

”Just went out with Sam and Colby—“

“Tell her that she can’t climb old nasty tetanus ridden buildings without gloves anymore.”

”What is wrong with you?” His face twisted with disgust.

“George—“

“No, get away from me, ew.” And he passed us as he shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Dream’s the only one who will give you sympathy around here and if even he thinks you’re an idiot then you won’t like me very much either.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to Dream. He stared back at me.

”I’m going to bed. You guys are ridiculous.”

”Okay but risking infection and, I don’t fucking know, death is a big deal. You’re being ridiculous.”

”Whatever, Dream,” I sighed as I took two stares at a time. “You can’t be upset that my version of fun is different than yours.”

”My version of fun doesn’t risk my damn life. And I thought you said you were going to bed?” He shouted as I walked down the hallway towards our soundproofed offices.

”I’m sleeping in my office so I don’t have to listen to you guys bitch at me anymore.”

”Jesus Christ.”

I shared a bed with Dream now. My room was used as the last remaining guest bedroom in this house—the other house has many more rooms for that—but in a couple days Punz planned to Use it for two weeks until his apartment was ready which was fine by me unless Dream didn’t shape up his attitude. I didn’t have any serious plans of leaving his bed, I just didn’t anticipate a lack of freedom in my decision making process.

Don’t get me wrong; none of the boys were overbearing or overprotective of me at all, even Dream, but I forgot what it was like to come home to questioning eyes wondering where I had been and why my hands were covered in bandages. I lived by myself for so long that I forgot what it was like to share life with other people. Blessings and curses.

I curled myself up in the blankets of the bed and sleep came over me immediately when I closed my eyes. It was too comfortable. Not nearly as comfortable as our bed downstairs, but the pure silence in the pitch black room lulled me to sleep like no other.

Three days later I told George that he was right, and he must have felt bad about my multiple hospital trips and infected wounds because he didn’t even bask in the glory of my fess up.

Eight days later I knew I was on the up and up, and my wounds healed rightly. I stressed Dream out. I could tell, and mixed with everything else going on, he was one more mishap from breaking.

Multiple videos between the three boys were scheduled, and they included incredibly large amounts of time, energy, and money to finish, that by the end of the day—if either of them took a break—there was nothing to do but scarf down their single meal of the day then sleep for ten hours just to do it all over again. At least they deserved everything they had; they worked harder than anyone else I had ever seen.

Dream’s video was finished. His workdays were infinitely shorter now, and he only needed to do finishing touches on other things and get his ducks in order. What he needed to do most, though, was relax. I think we got a solid seven words in to each other every night before sleeping for an eternity and I was impatient. I worked just as hard as them and traveled as well, so when there was any down time, of course we slept like there was no tomorrow.

Until the livestream.

The three live-streamed the night before the first video release, and they played games with friends for a while. It was good—fantastic even—for Dream’s mental health. It didn’t look like he wanted to shrivel up at any happenstance any longer and for that I was grateful.

He just wouldn’t chill. Even with the hard part of the video making process behind him, the stress still kindled inside of him. 

Good thing I was so much better at breaking things than putting them back together. 

I don’t know what came over me, but with the tension within the house ceasing and my hands not being the problem they were, I was ready for some strife. A little bit of chaos.

And a lot more closeness with Dream.

We had been dating for six months and pining after each other for almost two years and somehow I could count on one hand how many times we had sex. It wasn’t a problem, yet anyway, but if he wouldn’t calm down and separate his work from his non-existent personal life, it would be.

Not because I was selfish but because he deserved to not work himself sick.

I didn’t think twice when I silently opened his office door. Not silently per-say; Dream’s eyes quickly darted to me with concern, but enough that his mic didn’t pick it up.

He muted.

”What’s wrong?”

”Nothing,” I said sweetly. He hesitated and blinked quickly. I walked over to him. 

“Did—Are you wanting to be on stream?”

”No.”

”Oh.”

More silence.

”I—I was going to unmute now—oh.” He froze and backed from his desk more when I walked over and straddled his lap. He looked up at me with bright eyes. God, I loved them. And I loved the fact that they stared back at me for longer than a couple seconds. 

“You can unmute now.”

”But I—no, what are you doing?”

”Sitting? Obviously.”

”I’m streaming.”

”I know.” 

He sucked in a quick breath as I watched the realization click. 

“Just tell me if you—“

He unmuted. I held my breath as I leaned into him and wrapped my arms around his neck. My chin rested on his shoulder and I closed my eyes to hush the rushing of my heart.

Already, the heat between us sent chills across my skin.

Now that I was where I wanted to be, suddenly the confidence drained. I didn’t check the viewer countâ—good thing too or else I probably would have turned and left his office in a flash—but I knew it wasn’t too good for my blood pressure. I was frozen against him. The heat spread down my body and pooled in my pants. I didn’t listen to what he said, but I felt the way his body vibrated from his voice. It almost lulled me to sleep. But then it happened.

He slowly pushed his hips up and leaned back more to give me more access.

That was all I needed. Just one push.

And I felt him, all of him.

I rolled my hips into his and butterflies twisted in my stomach from the sound of his shaking breath. I couldn’t stop. My hand held the side of his neck, thumb brushed his face, as I kissed and bit down on his neck for security. I needed something for my hands to do, something for my mouth to do, or else a lot more would come from his mic than the viewers paid for.

“Mmm—“ He made a more prominent noise and I did the same movement over and over. That was when one of his hands finally came down on me. Of course he didn’t unmute yet. I knew he wasn’t that gone, and some evil part of me wanted him to be so I kept on and on.

Maybe I was the one we should be worried about. My throat ran dry from the amounts of pressure I mustered to keep quiet. He felt too good against me, and I thought he would be the one falling apart too fast.

Suddenly he pushed his chair back.

”What—“ 

“Off,” he demanded and cut off my whisper. He had to be muted. I looked down where his fingers pulled back the waistband of my pants. All too quickly, I leapt to my feet and yanked them off me. “God, what is wrong with you?” His voice broke into frustrated whining, but he definitely didn’t push me away.

His hand rose in between my legs and the other pulled me onto his lap again. 

“Oh fuckâ—“ I gasped and released some of the pent up tension in my throat. Of course he didn’t invade my underwear yet, pay back, but he did tease me to the point where I thrusted my hips back and forth on his hand for something harder than his light touches.

”Can feel how turned on you are already, you want me that bad?”

”Can you blame me?” I moaned through gritted teeth. He sat back and got closer to his desk again.

”I know, baby, I know,” he sighed and unmuted again.

This time I bit down on his shoulder as the pleasure radiated through me. Good thing he wore at least a hoodie because then it would have interrupted his words. He pulled his hand away only for the pressure between us to intensify. I grinded against him faster, and I nearly blacked out at how painfully hard he felt against me. Finally his head tossed back with closed eyes.

Not until he made noises would I make noises.

”Come on, stop playing,” he whispered so quietly it made me furl inside myself. He leaned forward and focused on his conversations and games. With shaking arms and legs, I lifted myself up and tugged at the waistband of his pants. I only pulled the front of them down enough for access; I couldn’t waste another second and he wasn’t in a place to mute or take his hands from the keyboard for a moment. 

He stuttered his words when I pulled him from his pants and stroked him slowly. I knew he couldn’t get mad at me for doing it during a crucial moment; he told me to stop messing around and I did.

I watched him as he focused on the screens behind me with glazed over eyes. Then I pushed my underwear to the side and sank down on him.��

First his eyebrows lifted in pleasure and his lips parted with shakiness, and then I heard quicker clicking on the keyboard. I bit on my own lips to make myself shut the hell up. Holy shit, too good. He felt too good I could barely keep myself together.

I couldn’t tell if it was from the unbearable amount of time without being filled like this or if it was the fact that I chose a livestream of all moments to tease the life out of him, but the pleasure was insurmountable as it traveled through my body like powerful acidic waves.

I moved faster.

I held onto him; my fingers laced through his hair and pulled. He pulled back, and there it was. He was losing his cool. I knew it too, obviously. With my hands in his hair, I could get him to do whatever I wanted. I didn’t care if I took advantage of it; he hadn’t complained about it yet.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” I whispered every so quietly in his hair and he fucked his hips forward. I slapped a hand over my mouth.

“You got to be good for me and be quiet if you want to fuck me when I’m streaming like this,” he spat. Then turned back to his game. I didn’t know when he was muted and when he wasn’t; perhaps that was the torture he was able to put me through. 

And when he pushed his hips forward, the breath was knocked out of me from the 

“Dream—!” 

A loud click on his keyboard led a groan, and he kicked us away from the desk harshly.

“You’re so in trouble,” he moaned quietly as if he were still unmuted, even though I knew he would never risk that, and he leaned back in his chair with both hands holding my waist tightly. “Wasn’t fucking muted.”

”Sorry,” I stuttered and then I let all the moans I kept inside pour out. He looked up at me and held my hair back. Tears welled in my eyes from the feeling of how deep he pushed.

”You trying to act up or something?”

“How do you know that wasn’t the plan?” I choked out in between moans as his hands guided me up and down for himself. I don’t think I moved anymore; he used me like he had clearly been dying to.

“Oh so you want me to tear you apart?”

“Please—“ I gasped. “I need you so bad.”

“You think you need me that bad? We’ll see how bad you need it if you can be patient for another 20 minutes.”

“Not if you can’t last that long—“ My sentence hardly left my mouth before he slapped my ass. I fell into him and bit down on my arm. And his hips met mine harsher.

”Oh my fucking god—Dream yes please, you feel so—“

”Yeah?” He laughed. “That’s what I thought. Keep—holy shit—keep fucking doing that.”

And he went back to his game. Cruelly, might I add.

It went on.

I went faster and faster, then harsh hands would still my waist. I knew he bruised me, and in a few hours he would kiss them and repeatedly say sorry, but I didn’t care. I wanted them. Needed them; I needed him permanently on my body, in my body.

”Oh my—“ he gasped suddenly and his fingertips and nails dug into my skin. I yelped and watched his face as his eyes shut tightly and lips part. I slowed my movements and simply watched him; my thumb pulled at his bottom lip as he came to.

”Stop it,” he said. “I’m so—fucking stop!” He must have muted.

”What? You going to cum or something?”

”I swear to god,” he laughed. I bit my lip from laughing at him, but he yanked me down on him and I couldn’t move anymore. “You make me cum and I won’t touch you for a month.”

”Dream—“ I gasped. That was too much.

”Yeah, I’m fucking serious, baby.”

”Just—Just hurry then.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder as my body burned. My desperation ate me alive until I yanked my hoodie off and tied my hair up so it wouldn’t touch my flushed skin. 

Of course that distracted him for a moment. His eyes tore across my bare skin so I took the opportunity and moved faster. His hand grabbed me reflexively, but that was when he noticed the tears in my skin from his nails.

”Fuck,” he whispered. “Sor—“

”Uh-Hu,” I told him as I shook my head quickly. “Said I needed you.”

”About to-About to end now,” he gasped.

His own desperation melted the frustration and dominance from him like I anticipated. And god, I loved it.

I held onto him again to give him space and watch the screens and close the livestream. It took another two minutes, but when his headphones came off, I sat up again and brought my hips up and down properly.

”Holy shit!” He cried and tossed his head back.

”Fuck fuck fuck,” I laughed as I finally moved the way I wanted. For the first time I wasn’t uncomfortable with the sound of our skin against each other.

”Look so fucking good,” he moaned. His hands were still on my waist and led me up and down. And his eyes fell lower in between us.

I leaned back and supported my elbows on the edge of his desk. 

“Please,” I gasped.

”Please what?” Fuck that ridiculous airy teasing tone. As much as it irritated me, it crawled under my skin and told me I needed more and more.

”Just fuck me already, I need it so hard, please—“ I was out of his lap in an instant. I held onto him as he stumbled with me to the bed. “Dream—holy shit—“ 

He pinned me to the soft bedding with a kiss. I tugged him down by his hair. I couldn’t believe how riled up I was; sure it had been over 30 minutes of this push and pull, but this was something new. Something I hadn’t experienced before. 

I moaned loudly in his mouth the moment he finally took control. He stood up and his hands fell down to where they belonged.

”You are so fucking bad,” he laughed. “I cannot believe we did this.”

”Just needed you,” I whined. I couldn’t tell if he could understand what I said through the loudness of my moans. Thank god the offices were soundproof. I had no idea if George or Sapnap were still live.

”I know.” His voice was quieter; face softened as if he felt bad. “Wanted you for so damn long.” Then he leaned down and finally my arms wrapped around him to keep him close. I fell lost under his kisses and touches, and I wanted so badly for him to stay close, but that itch deep inside of me wasn’t being scratched. Fuck, I loved the closeness, it was all I ever wanted the past few months. However, I needed to feel. 

Sometimes I couldn’t feel without intensity.

”Harder, please I need it; want it so bad—“

”Yeah? Is that really what you want?” His whisper pulled a groan out of me, and he pushed the hair around my face that fell from the ponytail I haphazardly made.

Tears blurred my vision all over again. My back arched in frustration.

“Yes! Obviously, just—“

”What do you say?” Again, that sweet tone stung my bones. My heart melted under his hands and that stupid gleam of boyish anticipation in his gaze set me off.

”Please! Please fuck me, I need you so deep inside of me. Want to feel you for days.”

”Turn over, baby.” My stomach fell out of its place as I scrambled around. My stomach met his bed as my toes hit the floor. I balled the blankets in my hands and held my breath to prepare—

All at once, the room spun around me and my body was lit on fire. He shoved himself inside of me and stopped holding back. I pushed my face into the bed because yeah, the offices were soundproof, but I don’t think they were that soundproofed. A trail of expletives and words I couldn’t remember spilled out of me as he filled me relentlessly.

”Oh my fucking god, ugh—“ His moans filled the air this time, and that was when I felt a harsh tug in my hair. He grabbed my ponytail at the roots and yanked. With a gasp, I lifted into the air and supported myself on the bed with my hands. “No no,” he said with a shakingly quiet voice. “That’s not fair; don’t cover your face with the blankets. Want to hear you. Tell me how good it feels.”

”Oh fuck!” If he wanted to hear me, then he would hear me because I ran out of stamina to keep quiet. “So-So good, Dream, you feel so good. Can-Can feel you everywhere.”

”Yeah? Tell me you love it. Tell me you love how hard I fuck you.”

”Holy shit I love it. I love how hard you fuck me—oh my god—you feel so damn good. I love you.”

”I love you too, baby,” he said in my hair; he still didn’t let go of it. After he kissed my head, his fingers on my hips tightened. “Now tell me when you want to cum.”

”I already have to, please, please let me cum already.”

”You’re so cute—oh fuck—but I told you to tell me when you want to.”

”I want to!” My voice broke. God, the pressure was too much. It built too much too fast; I didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t allow me to soon. “I want to cum now.”

”You do?” 

Shit.

That tone again. 

That stupid sweetheart tone.

“But what have you done to deserve it?”

”I’m-I’m so good for you I-I didn’t make you cum earlier, I told you how good you feel, I-I—”

”Trying to convince me you’re so good for me?”

”Oh my fucking—Dream I’m serious I’m going to. I can’t fucking—“

”Okay baby, holy shit, I know I’m—oh my god I’m cumming.“ The pleasure was all too much for me to handle so I couldn’t process anything else he said. He pulled out of me, and when he did, the pressure released.

All of it happened in a few seconds—

I think I cried his name when my orgasm took me by the throat. My eyes clamped shut and knees gave out; the only reason I didn’t fall to them was because his hand hooked under my hips still. My body writhed from the pleasure, and I was still coming to terms with how much of a mess I made. My thighs pressed together when rivers drenched them and I felt a few cold drops hit the bottom of my legs and feet.

After he finished over me, which was so quick I didn’t even think he had to touch himself after he pulled out, his hand trailed from my hips to my front. I knew he tried to get everything out of me, but I didn’t want it. I did, but I couldn’t handle it.

”Dream! Oh my god, no no no I can’t—“

”Again for me, I know you can; it was so fucking hot.”

”Fuck!“ I shouted again and my hand tried to grab his.

”Hell no,” he laughed. When I felt his free hand reach over and grab mine, I ultimately gave up. Once he grabbed my other wrist, he pinned them to my back. “Squirt for me, do it again baby. Drench me.” And the second his fingers worked me again, I let go and finally, it felt complete. 

I relaxed into the blankets with vain attempts to catch my breath. Dream let go of my hands gently and kissed up my back. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” There it was. His voice was quiet as he said those words just as I anticipated.

”For what?” I really gasped for breath trying to gather myself. His hands grazed my skin and I felt his eyes staring at every part of me. 

“Well hold on,” he said as I tried to move. “I’m using your pants, okay?”

”Whatever,” I laughed.

“I shouldn’t have neglected you to this point,” he spoke as he cleaned his release off my skin. “I feel bad and don’t want to hurt you—“

”Dream,” I grumbled and turned over when he finished cleaning me. 

Holy fuck. 

It would take a lot for him to convince me to take him from behind for a while. The flush of his face, how messy his hair was, and that hazy gaze in his eyes were too intoxicating for me to miss out on again.

”I want you to relax. You have been so damn stressed and working for so long that I just wanted you to release your pent up stress. I thought finishing the video would help, but it didn’t really seem to do it.”

”So you thought fucking me on stream would?” I laughed and felt my face heat up.

”I mean, it made you upset enough to fuck the shit out of me and you already seem to feel better.” I touched his face and he leaned into it. His hand covered mine.

”I know, I do.” It sounded like he didn’t want to admit it, but at least he did. “We’ll all take a long long break once everything for this project is finalized.”

”Good. Because you really deserve it.”

Comment to be added to Dream Taglist

Love, Rosie

[spiritualviolation]

HEADCANON FREE SPACE - GRIAN

from the response to this post

hi hello!! this post is a free space for people to come by and share their headcanons about a specific mcyt character, and this post is for grian!

grian is like. one of those chars that are just headcanon central, so i thought it be appropriate to start with him

not-exactly-rules but some guidelines + my own headcanons under the cut!

- GO ABSOLUTELY NUTS!! share as MANY as you like, i literally don’t mind if you’re going to make a ten page essay about your headcanons. just go wild, just as long as it sticks to the character of this post! bc if it i do multiple characters on one post it might get overwhelming and messy

- you can either do it in the tags or you can just reblog and add to this, i don’t mind as long as it’s convenient for you! you can add to other people’s rbs but i do think it would be better if you rb it straight off this post, but that depends on you!!

- if you want to reblog with your design as well so you can explain your hcs, go ahead! i would absolutely love to see how people design the characters individually!!

i will probably make a masterpost for this but for now we’ll start humble, but i’m aiming to release one post per week, but maybe would speed it up if my schedule allows me!

so yea, go wild!

i will probably start with the life series peeps first but i am thinking of maybe doing qsmp peeps as well after!

my grian headcanons cause i wrote a whole thing in my notes app:

- in my hc, the forms of watchers are dream-like and amorphous, basically visual mindfucks in appearance. grian who was fairly new to the watchers still kept his regular human form, but those who have been watchers for a very long time eventually would lose their individual human identity, and is assimilated into the collective that are the watchers. grian, if give or take maybe a century, the same thing would have eventually happened to him.

- his wings, gifted to him when he was ‘taken’, are generally amorphous and shifting, and you can never focus what shape they’re supposed to be (they can give you a headache the longer you try to look at their genuine form), but he can disguise them in any shape he wants (bird wings, dragon wings, etc.) so it doesn’t hurt to look at them.

- grian cut off his association with them just several months after he was taken, joining hermitcraft not long after, estranging themselves from them.

- he can still use his powers (which include astral projection, and etc.), but because of his cut ties they’re significantly weaker than the average watcher. for example, watchers can ‘watch’ over an entire server, but grian can only ‘watch’ one person at a time.

- his reasons for not wanting to be assimilated into the watchers is that he knows what it’s like to have been pushed and forced to take up a role against his will (ahem high school ahem), and it’s hurt him and he won’t want to let it hurt him again. aside from that, he finds that the watchers are extremely boring, considering all they do is observing passively from the sidelines and all that, which is the complete opposite of how grian likes to operate. he finds it extremely restrictive and prevents him from actively participating in things. not wanting to be confined to that, he cut ties with them.

- however he still uses his powers for troublemaking and mischief, and also to help others when they need it. he doesn’t consider himself affiliated with the watchers because he thinks it’s merely some godly title and also because he wouldn’t want anyone to think him differently, so he doesn’t really hide it.

- as he denied his watcher status very early into joining them, he still has the physicality (stamina, energy and such) of a regular human. only his wings are amorphous instead of his entire form since his wings were given to him when he joined them.

- made the life smp as a fun game for his friends, but in my hc, they did a test run before starting 3rd life. it was during that test run when the watchers seized control over the server.

- during 3rd life, he put admin restrictions on himself to remove his wings so he couldn’t fly and it was fair game for the rest.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

As per usual, I was talking to a client this week about autistic cognitive processing and I felt the sand shifting under my feet. So I come here to you Tumblr to do my own autistic cognitive processing in the hopes of better serving myself and my clients.

I have known for a long time that I can't process my thoughts and emotions verbally. This is what sometimes leads to me getting frustrated, "stuck," and increasingly pressurized towards my meltdown threshhold when I'm trying to express a half-formed thought or need. This is why I often choose to process my cognition in writing. It allows me to sift about in the sands of my mind, sliding to and fro, checking and rechecking, until I find what I need.

There is something to the capacity to shape my communication more freely and without the preesure that I put myself under which often leads to stammering, stuttering, aphasia, confusion, and my inability to hold something as ephemeral as language in my head long enough to manipulate it like clay with my hands. Words are not my brain's mother tongue in the first place, and it can be a welcome relief to truly take the slowed pace I need to translate my thoughts into a language others will understand.

Some others. I am well aware of who I learned my translation process from and of how that has made my translations inaccessible to some of the very people who share my brain.

The thing is, to learn to speak at all when your brain processes this slowly takes enormous effort. To learn to CHANGE your speech is back breaking. I have been trying for fifteen years.

Autistic cognitive processing pace and the disabling ramifications aren't things we talk about often. It's one reason some of us become obsessed with having back up plan upon back up plan (because we literally cannot think fast enough to keep up with the demands of our lives). It's one of the fastest paths to burnouts and meltdowns. It's part of why we are unable to keep up with the demands of social interactions, especially in large groups (too many social cues moving too quickly to be processed at pace and we drop the ball in the moment even if we realize later).

Because the pace of our cognition is chronically slowed, we are chronically disabled socially, emotionally, cognitively, etc, and we are forced to spend an incredible amount of mental and physical energy either compensating for that, recovering from it, or both. That is energy and resources neurotypical people get to spend on other things in their lives, maybe a project or hobby, a relationship, hell, just relaxing.

There can be upsides to it. This slowed cognition seems to be related to how the process of bottom-up analysis functions during cognitive processes in Autistic folks' brains. That bottom-up analysis is a really interesting cognitive processing style that seems to be responsible for increased pattern recognition! So a lot of how we're able to analyze, learn, understand, mimic, etc based on pattern recognition is thanks to this processing style. It helps us take in a holisticly detail oriented view of the things we look at, which can (with support) make us great researchers, investigative journalists, and inventers.

But while the upsides have become more discussed as we've become more willing to see Autism itself as neutral (a very good thing in my opinion), we sometimes forget the other side of the coin.

I often find myself trying to brute force my way through my processing pace. It always ends badly. And that's really the trouble. I can talk most of the time, but I can talk A LOT faster than I can process my thoughts. So most of the time my words are just. Garbage. Sounds. If you ask my to speak to you, you are asking me to fill up soundwaves because realistically my brain moves at about 25% of the speed of the conversation.

It's why as a clinician I have to be so incredibly careful what I do and say and how I hear my clients because I *truly* am processing what the tell me at auch a significant delay. It can sometimes be days later when the information truly settles into place.

The same is obviously true in my personal life! It can take me days or even weeks to figure out what a single thought or feeling means in the context of my own life because I have to process that often entirely alone or just on paper. Not because no on one WOULD help me I have people in my life who would be willing but because by the time talking to someone would be any help, I would have basically figured it out enough to just say it out loud and I don't really need their help by then. There are rare exceptions to this when I do definitely seek help but it can be so frustrating to be trapped, voiceless, in your own emotions.

I don't have a framework for this, only the suggestion to embrace the slowness. I have found that when you are not constantly fighting against it all the time, it feels a little more like home, a little more like it's working FOR your instead of AGAINST you.

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were - Chapter 4

Posting because I’m fed up with the discussion of should Nat be forgiven blah blah, that’s the way the story is, it’s not that deep 🥹 I’m deleting all chapters at the end of the week so I’m just posting for the people who were curious about how the story ends.

The Avengers assembled.

Steve and Bucky haven’t aged, but as you look around, you notice some wrinkles around Wanda’s eyes. Tony has gray hair and a disgruntled look on his face.

Sam is the only one enjoying himself, apparently.

“Cheer up” you say, standing in front of the group.

“Sorry, last time we were all together was to put someone six feet under” Tony mutters. “Yes, well... We have some news about that. Nat?”

The redhead stands next to you, looking at the projected images.

“Helios is an international terrorist organization led by French mercenary Soizic Paire. They have targeted some major cities in the Middle East and Africa. Quickly expanding to Europe and North America”

“Eleanor Bishop has been working with them to cover their operations, setting up fake companies that look like legit businesses”

“So you think Kate was just following her mother?” Wanda says.

“Yes, and Clint tagged along as backup. They didn’t know about Helios until they found Eleanor”

“The Avengers are retired, though” Steve points out. “I’m trying to figure out what we could do about this”

“I spoke to Secretary Renfield” you announce. Tony smirks. “We have clearance to take care of this”

“Who is we?” Tony asks you to clarify.

“Everyone in this room. You’re free to go. Or not. I just thought you’d like to know that we’re doing this. I know we all have lives now and families, so there’s nothing wrong with sitting this one out”

“Well, I’m going,” Bucky says.

“I’m going too,” Wanda nods. Steve and Sam step forward as well.

“Stark?”

“Do you have an ugly beard convention or something on your schedule?” you push him, annoyed.

“Damn, when did she get so mean?” Sam mutters to Natasha.

“I think it’s hot”

Tony snickers and shrugs his shoulders.

“Oh, what the hell. For old time’s sake. But you’re explaining this to Pepper” --

Steve is leading an intense training for everyone. It’s been a while since you spar and the pain in your leg only reminds you that you’re not a 20 something agent on the field.

Still, Natasha is patient and knows how to get you back in shape. Everyone shares a sense of urgency to get on with this. Maybe it’s because Helios could go into hiding if they suspect someone is after them. Part of it is also because you all want to go back to your lives.

Yelena is happy to stay over while you focus entirely on this mission. She’s given herself the title of “cool aunt to the rescue”.

“I’m exhausted” you complain when the first week of training ends.

“Steve was a little pushy today,” Natasha agrees. You’re back home, laying on the couch while Natasha massages your feet.

“Want to relax for a bit?”

“Do we have time?” she smiles and you nod, moving to straddle her lap. You kiss her slowly, her hands cupping your ass as you run yours through her hair.

“We brought pizza-aaaah” Yelena screams. “No, Anya, don’t look!”

“You should knock,” Natasha complains.

“There” Yelena punches the door and you grimace. Bucky just replaced it. “Сучка”

“Aww, aunt Yelena, you should have let me walk in on them. That way I could guilt them into buying me a new laptop”

“Maybe next time, sweetheart” you pat Anya’s shoulder. --

The second week of training is coming to an end, and you think the team might be ready to execute the mission in a couple of days.

You’re reviewing floor plans with Natasha when a video call from Maria comes in. “Director Hill”

“Agent Romanoff... and Romanoff. I have some intel that you’ll want to review. Helios is planning an attack at Oslo”

“This is the first time they target an European city” Natasha looks at you, concerned. “How long do we have, Maria?”

“I’d say a day at most”

You sigh.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call everyone. We leave in an hour”

“Good luck, Avengers” Maria disconnects the call. You walk away, thinking about getting changed and prepare the Quinjet.

“Hold on” Natasha asks, pulling you back to the room.

“Nat, can’t this wait?”

“I need... I need to apologize. For everything. I never did”

“You’ll do it when the mission is over” you try to get away from the conversation but she insists.

“I can’t let you leave without telling you that I love you. That you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And that... thing with Carol didn’t mean anything. It was just a fucked up way to deal with grief. But it’s still not an excuse. I’m sorry for hurting you”

“Thank you”

“You know, after I moved out I started therapy. For real. And I’m working on everything. I don’t want our family to be apart anymore”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now all you have to do is promise me that you’re not going to risk your life on this mission. Anya needs you and so do I”

“Promise” she nods, resting her forehead against yours.

“Chop, chop” Tony walks in, clapping excitedly. “We got butts to kick”

--

As everyone gathers around, you look at the empty seat on the Quinjet. Clint loved flying this thing.

Then you remember the archery lessons he gave Anya, the Christmases at the farm with all the kids. Maybe, worrying about Natasha was also a way of not facing your own loss.

A look around the room tells you everyone is thinking about Clint.

“We’ll divide in three” you begin, projecting a scan of the location where Helios is hiding. It’s an abandoned mansion on the border between Norway and Russia. “Tony will disable the communication between the guards on the gates and the towers. Once that happens, Wanda and Sam will disarm them”

“Natasha, Steve, Bucky and I will access via an old tunnel. We’ll wait for you to finish with the outside group. Then, Steve and Natasha will go to retrieve intelligence and locate Soizic while Buck and I deal with the second group of guards”

“We’re not splitting up” Natasha complains.

“Yes, we are. You and Steve work great together. And with my leg, I’m gonna need backup”

Bucky smiles at Natasha but you nudge him.

“Not now, children. By the time Steve and Natasha find Soizic, we should all be able to meet there and deal with him. Questions?”

Tony raises his hand.

“Would anyone like some shawarma after? Or is this more of a pizza type of mission?” “Shawarma’s for alien invasions. This will be a piece of cake” Sam winks at you.

--

Piece of cake, my ass.

You’ve been here for 10 minutes and everything’s going to shit.

Bucky and you had to split up when a group of Helios’ soldiers found you. You’ve been fighting for fifteen minutes, and although you’ve managed to knock down ten of their people, there are still three guards. One of them is swinging a chain, so you duck and he hits his partner.

This time, he swings to the ground, thinking you’ll go low again. Instead, you throw a punch to the other soldier, and by the time the chain man lifts his arms, it hits the other man in the balls.

“Ouch”

You almost feel sorry for him.

With only chain man left, you prepare your last widow bite. He swings the chain, distracting you from his other hand, and he throws a knife that lands straight to your stomach.

Well, shit.

Ignoring the sting, you push through the pain and wait for his attack to grab one of the guns from his fallen mates. You throw the widow bite to distract him and when he thinks he has you, you shoot him three times.

Down.

“We have a problem” Tony announces over the comms.

“Join the club” you take the knife out, grunting.

“Y/N?” Natasha speaks.

“I’m fine” you lie. “Tony?”

“There’s a record of a device that can launch a missile to Oslo, remotely. And it’s traveling, almost at the edge of the property, isn’t that right, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark”

“Probably through the tunnel we came in. I’m the one closest to it. I’ll track it” you say. “Sending Red Wing to guide you” Sam announces.

As you run through the tunnel, the robot joins you, and stops next to a wall.

“Sam, you’re thing is broken” “That can’t be”

“Unless there’s a secret... door” you push the stone and sure enough, it gives in. You walk into a garage full of motorcycles, SUVs and sports cars. There’s a man loading up a small briefcase. You lock eyes and he raises his gun.

“Shit”

As you find cover, Red Wing shoots back.

“Guys, I found Soizic” you inform the team as he drives away. “He’s on a white BMW. I’m in pursuit” you instruct them, finding a motorcycle with the keys still attached.

“We cut their power, so he must be looking for a network to connect and launch the missile. You have to get to him before that” Tony instructs.

“No pressure, right?” you rev the engine, and a second later, the cold air hits you. It feels like tiny needles digging on the skin of your face and exposed knuckles.

Soizic is having trouble with the car, as the roads seem to be frozen. You increase the speed, knowing one wrong turn could be fatal.

“Can this thing knock down trees?” you ask Sam.

“Only once”

“Then make sure it gets it right. Block the road with a tree. That way I can intercept Soizic”

“Copy, Romanoff”

“Me?” Natasha jumps in.

“The other Romanoff” Sam clarifies. “Ten years and we still can’t come up with a system to avoid this”

Red Wing flies past you and Soizic. There’s a curve ahead, with a cliff on the other side. As the tree falls, he realizes there’s nowhere to go so he stops the car, swirling.

You are face to face with the man that killed Clint.

“He could still launch it from your position, Y/N. I’m working on blocking his signal”

“That looks bad” the mercenary points at the bleeding in your abdomen.

“You a doctor?”

“Just a killer. You want this? Is that why you’re here?” He pulls the briefcase close to him. “Are you done?” you make time, asking Tony.

“Not even a little” the man in front of you replies.

“I’m trying,” Tony says.

“We’re on our way as backup” Natasha announces.

It will be too late. You have to get to that briefcase now.

“Just like old times” you mutter, running towards the man. He throws a punch to your stab wound and you double in pain. Before he can make a run for the briefcase, you pull him by the shirt, and he falls to the ground. You bash his head against the car door.

This is your chance.

But the blood loss is making you dizzy.

Soizic laughs, still on the ground.

“You should have retired. Like your friend, Barton” “I’m going to kill you”

“That’s what he said”

Come on, move. Reach for it. Run.

Soizic sprints forward at the same time you do. Instead of racing him for the briefcase, you throw yourself at him. The man realizes a second too late what you’re doing, as you both fall over the cliff on the other side of the road.

The snow softens some of the blows, but you can still feel your ribs breaking and a shooting pain in your arm.

It feels like an eternity until you land, rolling to a frozen surface.

Come on. You can do it.

Detka

Is Nat here? You listen to her voice, she’s so close.

A cracking sound on your back wakes you up.

Natasha is on the comms, asking for your location.

“Down the cliff” you drag yourself, aware that the ice is breaking due to the force of your fall. You will not be able to swim like this.

She asks you something else, but you can’t focus on her words as you feel someone pulling you back.

Fuck, why won’t he die?

Soizic punches you, and you land on your back. His own face is covered in blood and the right arm is twisted in a weird angle.

With the left arm, he’s holding a knife. You stop him mid attack, each one struggling with one arm. The ice keeps cracking, so you begin to kick it. You’d rather risk your chances on the frozen water than let him stab you.

The surface finally gives in and you both fall.

Soizic lets go of the knife as he struggles to swim. Barely floating, you know this will only give you a second to get away.

“For f-fuck’s sake” you stutter as he peaks his head. Just when you think he’s going to drown you, an arrow goes through his head.

What?

You follow the direction of the shot. Natasha.

Smiling weakly, for a second you forget you’re on the brink of freezing to death. She looks at Bucky.

“Hurry up and bring her over”

“Ah, jeez” Bucky complains, diving.

A second later, Wanda lands next to Natasha and envelopes you with her magic, floating out of the water wrapped in red threads.

“Seriously, Romanoff?” Bucky barks, but sprints out of the lake and catches you in the air, carrying you over. “You’re bleeding”

“And freezing” Natasha moves some of the hair on your forehead. She feels so warm even though she’s probably cold as well.

“Let’s get you back to the Quinjet”

“Who taught you to shoot like that?” you ask Natasha. Sam is landing the Quinjet, Red Wing by his side.

“Clint,” she smiles. “They kept his bow and arrow stored away”

“Idiots” Bucky mutters and Natasha laughs. The corner of his mouth does a thing that kind of looks like a smile.

“Hey, the funniest thing happened, Miss Day asked about you” Natasha comments and his smile fades away.

“You told her” he accuses, looking at you. “I promise I didn’t”

“All the Romanoffs are a pain in my ass” “That we are”

--

“Knock knooock” Yelena calls softly, peeking around the hospital room.

“Now you knock” Natasha opens the door, hugging her daughter. You were rushed to the OR the minute the Quinjet landed and are waking up from the anesthesia, a dopey look in your eyes.

“How are you feeling, seestra?” Yelena approaches the side of the bed. “These drugs are top notch, Yel”

“I can see that. Anya’s here, though, so we might not call drugs a good thing”

“Pfff, it’s fine. Come here, sweetheart” you wave and Anya kisses your cheek. She’s never seen you like this, mainly because you retired from missions when she was six. “Your mom killed a bad guy, it was so cool”

“Hey, we’ll be right back, Anya” Yelena says, dragging Natasha out of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha says.

“So, are you done? Can you move on with your life now?” Yelena scolds her. This is the first time in months that both sisters are alone. “Because you were pretty determined to screw up everything and you wouldn’t let us help, Natalia”

“I’m done. It won’t happen again”

“No, it won’t. Because next time I’m gonna kick your ass. And don’t forget how lucky you are because Y/N forgave everything”

“You knew about...?”

“Barnes told me. We made a group chat to call you mean names” Yelena shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s not a group chat if it’s only the two of you” Natasha grumbles.

“Whatever” the blonde waves, coming back inside.

Your eyes are closed, but you’re still talking, half asleep.

“The first night your Mom and I spent together, I thought she got me pregnant. That’s how good it was, Anya”

The redhead turns around and looks at Natasha with a smile.

“I’m so getting a new laptop now”

“Not so fast, we still have to tell them about the cat” Yelena scratches her neck.

“You adopted a cat?” Natasha yells whispers as you go back to sleep.

“Momma, she is so cute. She’s a black cat and Aunt Yelena named her Liho. Please, we have to keep her”

“A cat would be nice” you mumble, and then start to snore. Natasha can’t help but smile. “It would be nice”, she agrees.

--

Six months later

Flowers are blooming.

Time keeps passing.

There are days where grief takes over. Healing isn’t linear. But you’re getting there. Natasha looks happy, helping Laura set everything up for the barbecue.

It might seem strange to throw a party instead of a service after a year of Clint’s death. But Laura thought it would be better. To have all of their friends. It was his favorite thing to do once spring came in full swing.

“Hey” Bucky sits down next to you and you move over to make space on the bench. “Fancy meeting you here. Miss Day keeping you busy?”

“Yeah” he blushes, peeling the label off his beer bottle. “I’m meeting Melissa’s parents next week”

“Wow, I’m impressed”

“How’s the leg?” he changes the subject, nodding towards the scar on your thigh.

“Better than ever. What? Jealous you’re not the only one with vibranium in their body?”

“I’ll ask them to attach a machine gun to my arm and that will show you”

“Melissa’s parents will be delighted”

“So is that why you’ve been picking me up from school so much lately?” Anya appears behind you.

“Stop sneaking around” you both say at the same time.

“Hey, come on now” Natasha steps up, hugging Anya. You realize your daughter is getting taller. “She’s a natural”

“Wait until she starts sneaking around to go to parties and see if that’s still fun” you comment and Bucky chuckles.

“Your wife is right”

“She always is” Natasha agrees and you smile.

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick” Anya walks away and Bucky is quick to follow. “I’ll race you to the house” he says, knowing she’ll never catch up.

“You ok?” you say, as Natasha sits by your side. Part of you has been dreading this day. Even if Natasha has been better and present in your lives, it’s still hard for her to deal with the absence of Clint.

It’s simply not something you get over in a day.

“I miss him” she admits in a shaky voice. You’re happy she’s honest with you.

“I miss him too”

“He’d kick my ass if he could. For all the mistakes I made. The pain I caused you”

“Yeah, he would. And then he’d ask you to make it right and appreciate what you have. And you’ve done that ”

“I love you” she rests her head against your shoulder and you kiss her temple.

“I love you too”

It wasn’t perfect, the life you had. But there was love. And that would be enough

[lasciviouspoison]

i’ve been reading lolita for the past two days (sigh) and this scenario popped into my head after i read a part that made me wanna tear the book apart with my teeth….. so ofc i had to write it down. although it’s just a blurb, tw: contains mentions of the book Lolita (which is graphic in itself), written for a female reader (no pronouns are used so pls feel free to read even if u do not identify as a girl!). not a tw, but i write for black women so ofc y/n is black coded!! even if u think she isn’t <3

eren would love his little nerd gf.

the way you’re curled up into the corner of your shared cream colored couch. the tan blanket that you recently purchased flung over your legs, illuminated by the dull lamp that sits beside you. the off white hoodie that you stole, as eren likes to say, from his closet swallowing you whole. the sleeves constantly sliding too far off your wrists once you lift your arms too high.

your eyes flashing across the book you recently bought. he can see them through the reflection of your cute little glasses, the ones that he wishes you would wear more.

even though he’s supposed to be working on finishing his work proposal, he can’t help but stare. from the dining room table, his designated working area, he stares at his little girl friend who dances circles around his intelligence. who corrects him when he’s wrong and who will make every necessary edit on his proposal once he’s finished. “i just have to look over it, i can’t help it”, a statement you’ve made one too many times.

he loves you. it’s why everytime he sees you his brain flashes to the little red box that’s hidden in a compartment within his bedside table. he’s been itching to propose for 2 weeks now….

his train of thought is errupted when you huff at your book and borderline throw it down.

“this is disgusting. i don’t wanna keep reading, but i have to”. you say while shifting slightly to drink a bit of your matcha.

“what’s this one about baby?” please don’t tell me to keep working, is what he thinks after his inquiry. his english major lover refuses to let up on him when he’s tasked with a project.

you turn over to him, shaking your head ever so slightly, “it’s fucking Lolita… this deranged ass book. i hate it so much.”

“i’m assuming it’s the writing that makes it awful?”

“no! and that’s the problem!” you say while getting up, he knows your coming over to sit on the table next to his laptop. “it’s the content! this old mother fucker is lusting after a 12, eren, a 12 year old girl! and you know what he does eren…? he jokes about it! oh my god this is rancid! it was written as a cautionary tale so i get why it’s supposed to make me uncomfortable but jesus… and the worst part is people have the nerve to call it a love story. we’re a love story, not this pedophilic bullshit.”

eren puts his head onto his fist and cracks a small smile, “you think we’re a love story?”

you narrow your eyes and lean down to his face, “is that all you got from my rant just now?”

he laughs and bit and leans back into his chair, “of course not. the book sounds like actual nightmare fuel for parents. but, that doesn’t mean i can’t find you calling us a love story endearing.”

you sigh and hop off of the table. you’re making your way to the kitchen so you can grab some of the holiday cookies eren bought you because they were quote ‘snowman shaped’. “one of these days, you’re going to aggravate me so bad that i wax off one of your fucking eyebrows,” you say with a mouth full of cookie.

he walks over and grabs one out of the box as well, “i can’t wait y/n”.

you shake your head and push at his chest a bit, “i’ve been talking to you for too long. go and finish your proposal so i can edit it. god knows you can’t write a paper to save your life.”

he feigns hurt while you begin to walk back towards the couch, paying him absolutely no mind. “that last part wasn’t needed.”

you crack a smile and put your glasses back on, trying to wiggle back under the blanket and into the corner, “yes it was, it’s literally the reason why you’re paying for my education.”

“no, i’m doing that because i love you and want to see you succeed.”

“of course you are, but also to help you with writing”.

he sits back down and moves his mouse, causing the laptop to illuminate his face, “i’m not going to admit nor deny my poor writing skills. so hush and finish your rancid book Mrs. yeager.” proposal is so deeply ingrained in his mind that it’s making him feral.

you giggle, “mhm, i bet you won’t, Mr. yeager”.

[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨Custom fire Toa !✨

Yay, yet another custom bionicle ! And a big one this time !

Details below the cut !

Front/side views :

I’m using Vakama Metru’s kanohi for that one, as it’s pretty good shape-wise and there are few dark-red kanohis anyway.

Anyway, this was a lot of fun to make, and this time starting with absolutely nothing. Most of the bright red pieces were added at the end to give a bit of contrast. You might recognise some Stars elements, as well as some Bohrok elements from an unknown set, and even a very old piece from the precursors of Bionicle.

If you pay attention to proportions, the legs are completely messed up (bottom part too small, higher part far too long). It’s fixed on all the others of this series, luckily. Given it still works visually, I kept it that way.

The weapon is a mix of a cool disc launcher, with the flame sword from Stars set, to make…what you want it to be. I initially said it was some type of crossbow, but to be fair, it doesn’t look like anything at all.

Just like the others I have shared so far, I am doubling some limb pieces to quickly give some thickness. On the higher part of the legs, though, I have used the body

Most of this is quite experimental, from the feet to the higher parts of the legs using Vakama Metru’s body piece (it’s a fun one to work with).

And, yes, maybe I will be spreading this over 6 weeks to get enough time to finish my current project (currently waiting for important parts to arrive…), and because I am running out of content faster than I can make it, but well.

To pardon me, take this picture I took to see if the articulations had a good enough range :

[starsandsunkissed]

Take Two (Part 1/6)

Summary: After a tragic car accident, Michaela Bolaca is uprooted from her home on the East Coast and moved to South Park, Colorado, to live with her maternal aunt's family, the Blacks. But being the New Kid is rough at the best of times in the best of places. In South Park? Well, as long as she keeps her head down, she should be fine...right?

Starts a few weeks before season 7, episode 1. First Person POV.

~•~

My name's Michaela. I'm eight years old, and I just moved to South Park. My aunt, uncle and cousin live here, and now I do too. I visited once or twice before but I was too young to really remember it. Now that I've been here for a few weeks, it's official: I hate it here.

There's no one besides me and my family that are black, everyone looked at me funny all day when I was out exploring the town, and I just want to go back home.

But I can't.

"There you are Michaela!" said Aunt Linda when she opened the front door, bending down to hug me. "Oh, we were worried sick about you!"

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I know things have been hard since you've lost...well, but you can't just stay out late on a whim."

You can say it Aunt Lin, it's not like I don't already know.

"I'm sorry," I said again instead. What else was I supposed to say? It's not like I was the only one to lose someone; Mom is—was her sister.

"Are you hungry sweetie?" she asked as she guided me inside.

I shook my head.

"Alright," she said. "Your uncle Steve and I have finished the enrolment paperwork so you'll be starting school on Monday, okay? The doctors say that the injuries from the crash are all healed up so you should be okay."

I nodded, and with that I was sent up to my room.

Once I settled in I was finally able to check myself in the vanity mirror. My skin looked okay. My afro hair was still in good shape, if a little shrunken in their pigtails. I wanted a hat, though. I got enough comments about my hair, it being blonde and all. It was easier to have it covered than to deal with the 'You dyed your hair' accusations because of its uncommon color.

I lifted up my mattress to reveal the journal that I'd been keeping since before my recovery. It still hurt to look at the entries before...before.

I blinked back tears as I sat on the bed.

Everything hurt.

Why couldn't everything go back to normal? Why couldn't that drunk driver hit some other car? Why couldn't he have died instead of my mom and dad?

I gritted my teeth and swallowed, sniffing as I tossed the journal aside and dove under the covers. Crying wouldn't bring my parents back.

I was just going to have to find a way to deal.

~•~

Take Two, Part 2/6: https://www.tumblr.com/starsandsunkissed/745256412778774528/take-two-chapter-1-starsandsunkissed-south?source=share

~•~

[goshen-applecrumbledore]

Fic: Pine sweat opening chapter preview 🏕✨️

It's wincest wednesday and I'm tired of not posting fic! working on long projects is exhausting!

Here's the opening scene of a wincest time travel fic I'm working on.

The full fic is a big mysterious case fic about... hunting, camping and hating yourself, pining, sharing a tent and falling in love with your brother. It will be out in a few months I think. This preview is 1.8k words, takes place in season 5. enjoy! tell me what you think!

Chapter 1 - HEAT

Winter, 2009. The radiator in their motel room was broken, but it was worth putting up with for the twenty-dollar discount on the room. Dean took a decadently long shower to warm up, and Sam slept with towels draped over his comforter.

They would only get a few hours’ rest, but it was better than they'd had lately, both of them hounded as they were by angels, and Sam by guilt and regret. The cold was bad enough that Sam looked over at the lumpy shape of Dean in the other bed and considered saying something about sharing body heat, but Dean would never let him live it down. Dean wasn't even in the mood to share a meal with him lately, so he figured sharing a bed would be a stretch. He fell asleep thinking about Michael and Lucifer and how he hadn't heard Dean sing in the car for weeks. 

He woke up sweating.

It was disorienting, bright and screaming of wrongness. The bed wasn't a bed anymore. He was somewhere else, hard ground under him and bright, outside-bright, brighter than South Dakota got on any winter morning. 

He blinked awake with blurry eyes, pushing up, and looked for the gun under his pillow that was gone because the pillow was gone, the bed was gone, the whole damn room was gone, and it was dirt and rocks under his palm, not sheets.

He was about to shout for Dean when he saw Dean laying on the ground next to him.

"Dean." He shook Dean’s shoulder and looked around, frantic. They were at the edge of a forest: deciduous trees, near midday by the position of the sun. The air was clean but burning hot, and muggy.

He got up on his haunches and watched the bushes for movement. No bindings on Dean's wrists or his own, and no marks that said any had been there. No phones either, no knives or guns, and he didn’t remember waking up. There was nothing between his bed in the frigid motel room and here.

"Dean."

"Radiator kicked in, goddamn," Dean mumbled. "Turn it off."

Sam hissed, "You are on—the—ground."

Dean snuffled into his folded arms and made a confused noise, lifted his head and turned over. Sam's hand pulled him over faster.

Dean woke up all at once. "Shit."

"Thank you."

Sam watched impatiently as Dean went through the same frantic checklist he had, including patting an invisible pillow for his gun.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean said, sitting up.

It was a forest, as lush as it could be for being so dry, and Jesus, the heat. Sweat rolled down Sam's temple just sitting there.

"Here." Sam picked up Dean's hand and examined his wrist, his forearm. "Lemme check for needles."

Dean watched him turn his arm over. "Didn't wake up, not for a second. You?"

"I don't think so. You feel groggy?"

"Nah."

Sam didn't either. He checked Dean's veins, the inside of his arm and the side of his neck, pulse thumping hard under his fingers. No needle marks.

"It could be worse?" he offered. He got to his feet and gave Dean a hand up. "Maybe they left us the car."

Sam wiped the sweat from his face, looked at the sun's position again, and tried and failed to see any kind of landmark through the trees. He picked a direction and went.

Dean asked, “Who’s they, you think?”

Sam thought about being held down by those guys in the bar when he tried to make his clean break from Dean, spitting blood. 

“Rogue hunters pissed about the apocalypse, if I had to guess.”

That was only a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t impossible that those guys or other guys like them had escalated it, knocked him and Dean out and abandoned them in the wilderness to starve as some kind of street justice. He hadn’t told Dean about any of it. It felt too pathetic.

Dean just nodded at that. Sam tucked his hair behind his ear and glanced over at Dean walking next to him: sullen, black T-shirt sweating through, hair stuck up on one side from sleep.

Things hadn’t been great between them. Sam didn't know how to fix it besides acting like a kicked dog and trying to pretend he wasn’t. They were better together, sure, but only because they didn't know how to do anything else. Dean still didn't totally trust him and Sam didn't trust himself, they were just too fucked up to even consider going it alone, not with the angels circling the way they were. It was getting better, they were trying, but they were never fully in step. Maybe getting kidnapped would give them something to focus on together.

A child's shout rang out through the trees. Sam twitched, but it wasn't a scream of horror. It was joyous. Dean nodded towards the sound. 

"Look alive. Civilization."

Sam followed behind. There was a neat diamond of sweat between Dean's shoulder blades; Sam always sweated worse than him, and he was drenched by comparison. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of heat, physical around them and thick in his lungs.

Dean parted wispy trees with his forearm and let them spring back, stepping through the spiky underbrush, silent. There was a clearing up ahead and Sam could make out a squat bungalow through the trees, its siding bleached by the sun. A kid yelped again and there were thumps, feet on grass, scuffling. Sam didn't know if it was better or worse that they weren't deeper in the woods—survival would have been a project, a trust exercise.

As they crept up to the edge of the clearing, he could make out the shapes of two kids in a dusty overgrown lot behind an equally overgrown cabin. At first, Sam thought they were fighting, but it quickly became clear that they weren't.

They were boys in their early teens, one appallingly skinny and one normal skinny, one taller than the other, both white, about the same dusty brown hair colour. The short one shoved the tall one and tried to hook his ankle behind his leg to trip him. They grappled to the ground, pulling at shirts, pulling hair, vicious and violent, but with no ill intent, like they were wrestling.

Sam and Dean crouched in the bushes and watched them, vaguely embarrassed. It was a big clearing and the kids hadn't noticed them. Dean leaned in, putting his head right near Sam's.

“They won’t be alone. Wait.”

The kids looked kind of ragged, their sneakers scuffed and old, and it didn’t seem like much of a stretch that whatever family lived in the dilapidated bungalow could have been responsible for this whole thing. Either they were some backwater freaks with a stake in the apocalypse and they were right to hide from them, or these people were perfectly normal, and they could go up and ask for directions. There was no visible street past the house ringed with trees. Sam could see the edge of a car around the front, plus a decrepit old truck and the rusted frame of a station wagon. They waited.

A cackle from one of the boys, then:

"Ow. Ow! Fine, jeez, you win."

They both flopped onto their backs in the grassy dirt and panted up at the sky. The taller one was grinning, the other looked sour.

"Two to one," the grinning one said.

Sam listened for an accent to place them and couldn't hear one—maybe some faint southern twang, but these trees didn't match the region. It was arid. The heat seemed about right for the South, but where did it get so hot in November? How long were they out for to be taken somewhere so much hotter than the blizzard they'd fallen asleep in?

The bigger kid hinged at the waist and sat up. He was wearing a Zeppelin shirt. Dean used to have one like it, it had tour dates on the back, Sam spent his whole childhood looking at it. The kid's face was covered in freckles, enough to be seen from a distance. His hair wasn't blond and also wasn't not blond, and it was cut short, almost military.

Sam's hand shot out and twisted in Dean's sleeve. Suddenly the heat was more than oppressive, it was choking him.

Dean's sweaty hand covered his and tried to pry him off. "Ow, Sam, what—"

"He looks like you," Sam said all in a rush, feeling stupid, feeling fucking insane. "Like, a lot like you. Can you see him?"

Dean's hand was still on Sam's, but it wasn't moving. They both stared.

"I wasn't that small," Dean said eventually, "but—"

"You had that shirt, though, right?"

"Sammy—"

"It says '1971 WORLD TOUR,' I can see it from here. That's the same one. You—"

"Look at the other kid."

The shorter one had sat up. He was younger, all bones, a soft little-kid face. His hair hung in his eyes and his ears stuck out.

"So?"

Dean's fingers slowly closed around his own, still clenched in his sleeve, until it hurt.

"That's you," Dean said.

Sam's heart went nuts.

"I didn't look like that."

"You fucking did. He looks just like you."

"Not even close! But he"—Sam jabbed a finger at the kid in the Zeppelin shirt—"is one-hundred percent you."

"That doesn't look anything like me! The shirt's messing you up, but that is totally you. Look at his nose! He's—"

"Boys!"

A voice barked from the house. Both Sam and Dean, and the kids on the lawn, twitched with reflexive panic.

The screen door creaked open in the shadow of the cabin's porch and a figure came out.

He hit the sun. It was John Winchester, shielding his eyes and squinting into the yard.

Dean's fingers crushed Sam's so hard he swore he felt something crack. He couldn't bring himself to pull them away.

"C'mon," John called to the kids. "You're on your own for dinner, so bring a twenty. I'll pick you up tonight."

Even the gist of him was immediately recognizable across the distance; Sam could have recognized him by the back of one elbow. John was a concept more than a man, and God, he looked young. He was so broad. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt despite the heat. Sam's thousand emotions all crammed into his chest together: grief, relief, joy, love, rage.

The boys scrambled to their feet and brushed dirt off their knees; one from his jeans, the other from skin. They said, nearly in unison: "Yessir."

John went back inside and they jogged across the yard and followed him in. The shorter one tripped the other going up the stairs and got swatted for it. The shorter one. The— Sam stared at the back of his head.

Dean's hand fell away from his once the boys were inside.

They stayed crouching in the bushes for a while longer, staring at the closed screen door and listening to the indistinct voices from within, loud in all the quiet.

Sam craned his neck to look at the car in the front yard again, like he really needed to check. As if he could have ever mistaken that tail light.

(that's it! thank you for reading! I was tired of not sharing anything. stay tuned for the full fic in the next few months I hope)

[autumnalwalker]

Happy WBW!

What is one element you have always wanted to have in one of your stories world/environment but you've never found a way to fit in?

Happy WBW! Even if it's not nearly the same Wednesday you sent the ask.

Perhaps it's not exactly what the question meant, but having a proper villain antagonist. While one might say that's more of a character than a world/environment element, I'd argue that it still fits because a villain worthy of the title is going to have an effect on the shape of the world, if only in the local space they and the protagonist share.

The Archivist's Journal and the solarpunk witch project are too slice-of life for a villain to be appropriate. The Witches' Testaments is more about opposing systems than people. Empty Names occasionally comes close by veering out of monster-of-the-week and into villain-of-the-week territory, but so far that's just been one-off villains that aren't expected to show back up again after the chapter/episode is over rather than establishing any kind of long-running nemesis/antagonist.

Sure, The Archivist's Journal has Theo and the nature sprite, but those aren't really villains. Theo's (mostly) just a grumpy old guy who doesn't like the Archivist very much and the nature sprite isn't villainous or even malicious, just alien, incomprehensible, and mischievous.

I think the closest I've come to writing an archetypal villain is probably Sullivan, the "token evil teammate" of the Empty Names cast. He's certainly got that smug, flamboyant villain energy that makes him so fun to write, and and is kind of a bastard when Road isn't around to hold his metaphorical leash.

Hmmm... maybe in some future arc for Empty Names. Time will tell, I suppose.

[calyptrion]

Post about big angel plushy part 1!!

Hi! Sorry for 2 long absence! I was into one big project and I am ready to show you THEM! This is a 60 cm tall action figure of a biblically accurate angel It’s not ready yet but I can’t wait longer!

I divided post in 3 pieces because it was too big! I will post second part later on a week and third on the next one. After posting them I will put links here for a better access to whole story🤍

It’s not a tutorial or a step by step description of all project. Below I just wrote about overall work that was done and altho placed couple more photos of this cutie pie 🧡

So wants the deal:

Year ago i had a brilliant idea to make a HUGE biblically accurate angel because I needed a support plushie or something like that.

I drew a concept art that looked fine and I LOVED IT!

I wanted him to be something like a seraphim. I knew they have 6 wings but I decided to work on a two extra pair later on the project.

After two weeks of work they started to get in shape

And then I forgot about project for weeks, months aaand after long time… i looked at him… and It wasn’t what I wanted.

Biggest problem was in legs and arms.

First ones was too long and worked like two long sticks , they wasn’t able to band as it was though in a concept and overall looked to rough for this design.

Arms had the same problem but altho they were completely static which made toy even more clumsy-looking.

Some minor mistakes occurred too. They face was TOO small even wings on it didn’t helped!Wings was white and boring.

But I liked this little guy so much and they had puppy eyes so I decided to redo some parts! For this of project air drying clay, golden paint, wire and silicone was mostly used.

Firstly I changed form of a legs and made them more human like! I read about seraphims using their wings to cover up legs so a thought making smaller one would be better and although will mare them more manageable. On this moment they are not painted yet, but I thought about maybe make some toes and greek type golden sandals later.

Look at how cute this little creature look after this!!

Ok I got kinda tired wile writing this soo all the rest will be in second and third parts! Sorry for making parts short i just have a lot of photos and a wanted to share all of them! Thank you for reading this It’s really important to me to be able to show people my work and I am really happy to be able to do It here!

The end of part one🧡🤍💛

[honorary-fool]

Nameless Bard Cosplay Breakdown

Why? Why not (I want to share my creation especially with seeing so many tiktok cosplays of them, but never any guides/posts about how people. did stuff for them /lh)

I..don't know how well screen-readers will handle such a long post. I hope it works out okay.

Note: final image does not have alt image text at the time of posting, but I intend to add it later on

add alt text to images (all minus final since that would be a picture from the morning of)

Cloak

This thing is LONG. I'm about 5'1/155 cm, and this thing goes down to my KNEES (& big hood too!)

The inside fabric is from old off-white/beige bedsheets, and the outside fabric was from joann's (link).

I used a pattern from Aliceincosplayland on Etsy (link) (note: you don't need to buy a pattern to make a cloak- I bought it because of the different options between the lengths & hood sizes) ; for mine, I used the knee-length pattern & the larger hood size.

The large covered hook & eye also from joann's (link).

POCKETS! There's 2 small pockets close to the edges, & a bigger one I added this year to fit things like my PDM, testing kit, battery pack, etc. The smaller pockets have wooden buttons & button holes, the bigger one has a snap w/ a wooden button hot-glued on top because I didn't wanna tinker with the button hole foot.

Windblume Flower

I forgot what I traced but I made patterns for the leaves and petals & used a tutorial to make the tassels with red embroidery thread.

It's made of felt, hot glue, and I hand-sewed some bits like the button in the middle. It's also removable & fastens via safety pin sewed into the back.

Shirt

I gotta be honest, I forgot to work on it and tried to finish it about a week before the con. It looked like it was going well, but little errors made it look not up to the standard I was holding myself to and I hated it. I didn't even add the finishing touches with the shirt's collar's closure, or the ruffles on the cuffs of the sleeves. Instead, I'm using the original shirt I got off amazon last year (link), which I'm glad I kept intact when trying t make the second version's pattern.

I wanted to make another variation that was closer to his canonical outfit and was not made out of that plasticky fabric material (not that it was uncomfy, I just thought it'd be better for a convention center with a lotta people). The arm holes were a bit too big, the neck hole was a bit snug, and I botched the collar almost entirely. Lesson learned, make mockups and do not procrastinate on your projects until the week before the event.

I have the picture of it in this post.

If it counts, last year I made a slight alteration to the original shirt in which I sewed part of the slit in the top so it didn't go as deep. That's about it, honestly.

Shorts

Honestly, these weren't too bad overall. I cut the triangle panels out of white fabric, used embroidery thread for the criss-cross bits, and hand-sewed said panels onto the shorts.

It's great 'cus it has pockets and it's adjustable with the drawstring on the inside.

Wig

This fucker (part 2)

I combined a wig off Amazon (link) with wefts from hair extensions (link; though it comes with two I used just under one weft for both briads) to get the general shape

I went into detail on how I redid it here (also where the pictures are) but to sum it up: washed out hairspray/gel from last year, trimmed & rebraided the longer strands, used hairspray to do the bangs & gel to fix the ends.

Belt

I had this old brown fabric from an old sewing class project that I used. I measured the length by putting the rest of the costume on and using a measuring tape, overlapping a little so there was room to add the snaps for a closure. I think I used the trim from an old bedsheet and put it on either of the longer ends, then painted it yellow to match the bard's. Semi-reliable snap closure sewn in later, then boom, belt!

Lyre Prop

I forgot what I traced to make this pattern too, but I made it out of felt, essentially a stuffed toy. The little bar bit at the top is a separate pattern piece, as I tried making it all into one and was unable to turn it inside out. I forgot what kind of cord/string I used for the lyre strings, I just remember using mod podge to stiffen it as a finishing touch.

I used it last year as a prop, but I ended up just carrying it around so it might be best to leave home unless you plan to take a lotta pictures.

Miscellaneous Parts

Corset Belt: bought off amazon (link) ; It's comfy for the most part. liked the idea of a faux corset as opposed to the vest

Boots: last year I used a different set of boots that I've had for years, this year I'm using slightly newer boots that I got off my brother since they're small on him. They're timberlands I think? A li'l bit of height, lace-up, slight heel, feels 3% more badass /j

Makeup: I... know very little about makeup. I highly doubt the bard used makeup back then (/j). With that in mind, I really just use black eyeshadow & an eyebrow brush to fill my brows in and that's it. I use an old eyeshadow palette, but I also have an eyeshadow stick from the dollar store that works if you wet it slightly (mostly because it's a year old and is dried out by now..probably).

Wisp Prop: Touched on in this post, I like to take along one of my wisp dolls- the second one I've ever made, specifically. Made with my own personal pattern, he's easy to tuck away into a smaller pocket with just his head sticking out. I'll never forget the excitement of the Bennett and Fischl cosplayers I ran into last year when I took the wisp out to show them. 100/10, easily my favorite prop. The only real change made to him is that he has glow in the dark paint on his eyes, which probably won't do much in a convention setting but I still think it's cool.

Sword Prop: Very unnecessary & impromptu, but also very fun. At last year's con there was a vendor selling foam game/anime weapons and I got a foam Freedom Sworn. At the time of writing this out, I'm unsure if I will be taking it with me this year or not, since I can't exactly store it under my cloak when I'm not holding it.

Final Reveal!

(like I said at the top, this image is the only one w/out alt image text; I'll add it later)

(face scribbled over for comfort reasons)

[somediyprojects]

DIY Paper Ranunculus

Project by Susan Beech:

Sometimes, I wish Instagram was a real person so I could shake its hand and give it a huge hug for the endless amounts of inspiration it provides. From discovering great new home tours, photographers and florists to talented DIYers, I am constantly screengrabbing things and sending them to myself to follow up on later. This week’s final DIY project before the holiday is one I’ve been excited to post for weeks. I follow a number of crafters online, but few inspire me as much as Susan Beech. Susan’s Instagram account, A Petal Unfolds, is full of beautiful paper flowers. Most of the time I can’t believe they’re not real, but especially in the case of her rich purple and red ranunculi. They looked so much like the real thing that I wrote to her to ask if we could do a how-to together. Thankfully she was game and today I’m thrilled to share her project, just in time for holiday centerpieces. xo, grace

Materials:

-Single Ply crepe paper 40g (I use a piece about 23cm/9in x 50cm/20in for each flower) in reds, purples and a green for the stems -2 cm diameter Polystyrene balls -Florist wire, 20 gauge –Aleene’s Tacky Glue (the Turbo Tacky Glue is my favourite to use) -Hot glue gun and glue stick -Scissors -Thick card for templates -Pencil -Ruler -Wire cutters –Petal Template

Tips for working with crepe paper:

•When working on this flower, the grain of the paper must always run with the height of the petals, so your grain will run from the top of the petal to the bottom and not across. •Cupping a petal involves holding the petal between your thumb and forefingers of both hands and then gradually stretching the petal carefully and evenly in to a curved shape. •Stretching the paper means holding the paper at both ends with your thumb and forefinger and gently stretching until it can’t be stretched further.

Instructions:

Refer to petal template, draw out template and cut this out of the card.

Cut strips of crepe paper about 3cm wide and cut out your petals. You will need approximately 75 for each flower. I tend to cut out my petals and keep them as they are in their little piles, as it’s easier to trim the petals down to the different sizes later.

Cut floral wire into lengths about 16cm long.

Find the center of the polystyrene ball and insert floral wire with a little hot glue on the end. I push the wire in about a centimeter. Once the glue has cooled slightly, I press any above the surface down onto the polystyrene so it doesn’t create too much of a bump around the base of the wire. This is the only time you need to use the hot glue.

Cut a little circle of crepe for the very dark center base of your ranunculus flower. I tend to use a darker shade of the colour I plan to do the whole flower in. A brown/green colour can be good, too. Stretch the paper a little and glue to the top of the polystyrene ball.

For the first batch of petals (center petal) you will need approximately 45 to be cut about 1cm from the top across the width. Lightly cup each petal in the center between your thumb and forefinger to give the petal a little shape. The petal template shows the petal when cut down and stretched. Apply a small amount of glue along the straight bottom edge.

These first petals will be forming the very center circle. Place the first petal so that the top edge almost meets the center of the polystyrene ball, holding the petal down so it is sure to stick. Glue the edge of your next petal and overlap it on the previous petal about 50%, positioning it so it is forming a little curve away from the previous. Continue doing this with your next petals until you have formed your center circle. Throughout making the flower, you will be overlapping your petals and you will be able to keep track of where you need to place your next petal because the last petal you glued down will be the one that hasn’t been overlapped yet.

For the next row of petals, you will bring the layer slightly down from the edge of the center circle and then continue overlapping round and round, following the center circle, bringing the layers down until you have completely filled the center of your flower.

Your next set of petals are the outer petals on the petal template and you will need about 30. These petals are cut across about 2mm from the bottom of the petal and are cupped in the middle.

With this layer I tend to bring the petals up around the center of the flower a little. Continue overlapping the petals as before and applying a little glue along the bottom edge. Once you have completed one layer, bring the next layer down slightly and continue around and around as before.

Once you’ve reached a point where you are happy with the shape of your flower (I usually do about 5 layers of outer petals), cup 4 full-size petals deeply to give the bottom of the flower a full shape. I glue this down along the bottom edge as before, but this time I simply glue the petals down overlapping at 90 degrees with each other to cover any remaining polystyrene that is showing and any of the hot glue.

Stems & Calyx

To make the calyx, I cut a strip of green crepe about 2cm wide, across the grain, accordion fold and hand cut out a little leaf shape 2cm in height, cupping slightly in the middle to give a little shape. Glue the end of the calyx shape, then push the glued paper up against the base of the wire, pinching the paper to it once it is stuck down. I apply four of these to each flower.

For the stems, cut a strip of crepe about 1cm wide and 13cm across and stretch it. The paper should be cut across the grain. Apply a little glue to one end and fold this over the top of the wire underneath the calyx. Hold the flower in your right hand and twist the paper down the stem with your left (or whichever is easiest for you), trying to keep the stem as smooth as possible by wrapping tightly and pinching the paper in as you go. I also apply small amounts of glue after every 6 turns or so to keep the paper secure. When you get to the end of the wire, cut the paper down to just above the wire, apply a little glue, fold the top over the wire and pinch the rest of the paper around to seal. I usually repeat wrapping the stem a few times to get the thickness I prefer.

Now you have your finished flower and you can style it as you wish – by shaping the stem and also gently bringing down a few of the lower petals of the flower if you like.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

the french exit | epilogue

kylian mbappé x original female character [+18]

synopsis: alice is a lonely rich girl whose biggest fear is to become a lonely rich woman. ever since they moved to paris, her fiancé doesn’t seem to be interested in her anymore. so alice decides to find comfort in the arms of another man. warnings: cheating; angst; smut; i have never been to france; minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist

Epilogue

Life is easier when you're in love. When you feel understood and connected to another person. Alice goes home everyday to her favorite person in the world, and she doesn't have to ask: he’s always there, he’s always looking at her and understanding her. And loving her back. 

The guilt still creeps up on her, naturally. It comes sometimes in the shape of a nightmare, she jumps in bed in a cold sweat in the middle of the night and gets too scared to sleep again. Liar. Other times is during the day, under the sun, when, for a second, she thinks she forgot her engagement ring before leaving the house. And then she remembers. Liar.

A week before the date of the wedding, David announces through social media that he’s dating someone else – a French woman who works at his office – and Alice is reminded that she wasn’t alone in her wrongdoings. It was a group project. A sinful ballad played by four people. Liars.

But life is easier, still. Because she’s in love. Cat has a name now, it’s Renoir. The name was chosen after the kitten completely destroyed a homonyms book that described the famous painter's work and used to sit at the coffee table in the living room. Alice interpreted it as a sign and treats baby Renoir as the proper artist he is, ever since.

Alice is suspicious that Renoir likes Kylian more than he likes her, but she can’t blame the kitten for it, since she makes him watch a lot of PSG matches with her. It makes sense that he would nurture some sort of admiration for the talented player.

“I want you to meet my family.” Kylian asks one day, over breakfast. “I want to meet your family as well, I want us to be official.” He’s holding her hand. “I guess what I’m really asking is: do you want to be my girlfriend?”

She does, so she says yes. It’s different this time, being someone’s girlfriend, they have been living together for months, if you count the first time she brought a toothbrush and a luggage to the apartment, and you really should count since then. They are intimate with each other, they share dark secrets already, so early into the relationship and they know each other so well. The honeymoon phase is long gone. So it’s different. It 's easier.

“Here, I brought you something.”

They are getting ready for a dinner party they’re hosting. They invited their closest friends, it’s the first time they’re doing something like that. Kylian hands her a red box, it says Cartier on top. Alice gasps when she opens it – it’s a beautiful diamond necklace.

“Oh my God, Kyky, it 's gorgeous!”

“Do you love it?”

Secretly, he always wished to cover her in diamonds and jewelry. To give her a bigger ring than the other guy had. He bought the necklace when she was still with that other man, when he was still a secret. When nobody knew about them. Ever since she became his official girlfriend, he’s been waiting for the right time to give it to her.

“I love it!” Alice laughs and hugs him. “Thank you so much!”

She hasn't done her makeup or put on her dress yet, standing in the bedroom in only her bra and pantyhose. She asks him to put on the jewel for her, and he guides her to the floor length mirror, standing behind her.

“Do you think it looks good on me?” Alice asks, touching the necklace. Kylian still has his hand on her hair, holding it up. He enjoys the view, and while looking at her through the mirror, he gives her soft kisses on her neck and takes his lips up to her ear where he whispers.

“Everything looks good on you, baby.”

Alice feels him hardening in his pants, behind her.

“Kyky, we don’t have time!” She giggles. “Our friends will be here any minute now.”

“That’s why we need to take care of it now. You don’t me like this during dinner, do you?” Kylian bites her ear and goes back to the neck kisses. His hand guided her hips closer to his, rubbing himself on her, making her feel him.

“You’re evil.” He’s taking off her bra as she says that. “You know I can't resist you!”

“No, you can’t. Can you?” He laughs, she’s wearing nothing but the diamond necklace now. “My baby could never resist me.”

Kylian pushes her closer to the mirror, she has her hand and face resting on it as he starts fucking her from behind.

“Thank you.” She says as soon as he enters her. She needs him to know that she’s thankful, need him to know how happy it makes her having him inside of her, where he belongs.

“Look at yourself!” He pulls her hair and move her face so she can see, his other hand on her breast, pinching her nipple. “Look, baby. The necklace compliments your tits.” He fucks her harder, as if to prove a point, her breasts and the jewel moving according to his command. “So pretty.” Kylian’s voice is rough, they’re in a hurry and he didn’t forget. His hand finds her clit and he touches her with expertise. He knows her too well, it doesn't take long to give his girl an orgasm. “That’s right, baby, cum for me. Yes, I’m cumming too. Fuck.”

Dinner dates with friends are easier when you’re in love. They have a hand on each other at all times during the meal. ‘You two are disgusting!” – their friends point out multiple times in the evening. When Alice tells her mother about Kylian, and about the fact that they’re living together, Caroline laughs and says: “Well, if you decide to marry him at least we already have the dress!”

...

@mywhimsyjournal @lalunaenamoradasworld

[chickycherrycola]

🕯️ 🔪 🪲 🎨

For that writer ask heheheh 😎

From the Writer Truth or Dare game I reblogged last week ✍

*cracks knuckles* ohoho, you picked some very fun ones 😎 here we go~

🕯: on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

a solid 10/10, omg, i love editing. it's probably my favorite part of the writing process because it's the part in which I really see the story take shape, all the narrative pieces fall into place, all the little details sharpen and come into focus. I love editing so much that it's incredibly difficult for me to silence my internal editor while drafting, and that's why I write so slow... I'm definitely guilty of spending hours, days even, on refining the same paragraph or passage before my full draft is even finished 🤣 I'm just so addicted to that high feeling I get when I figure out the perfect word or phrase to make a sentence SING.

something something words are my drug of choice

🔪: what's the weirdest topic you've researched for a writing project?

ahaha oh man, i fear that my answer to this one is not going to be all that weird or interesting 😅 for King of My Heart I've done a crazy amount of research on various world monarchies, European castles and palaces, and architectural styles of the Mediterranean region. For What Happens In Vegas I spent a truly mind-boggling amount of time scouring AirBnB profiles and Google-Earth scoping various attractions on The Strip, and my phone STILL gives me ads and news alerts for the Las Vegas metropolitan area more than a year later.

now, if we're talking stuff I've researched for my NSFW fics... that's a whole different ballgame. I think that probably my research into fireplay for an as-yet-unfinished Zutara fic probably takes the cake there 😏🔥

🪲: add 50 words to your current WIP and share the paragraph here.

hehe *rubs my tiny fly hands together* what a perfect excuse to chip away at Chapter 1 of my SoMa College AU 👀

'Although the idea of forty or fifty copies of Blake and his loud blue hair and even louder personality sounds truly unbearable, Maka can’t help the smile that plays on her lips at the thought. 

“Even still,” she says. “I’ll be okay, Tsu. Promise.”

And besides, a couple of hours at a frat party will be better for her wounded heart and shattered confidence than another Friday night spent holed up in her bedroom, with nothing but her biology textbooks and bitter memories for company. 

Probably.'

that was technically 86 words oops

🎨: link your favorite piece of fanart and explain why you like it.

listen.... LISTEN. @moriohpissky creates so much fantastic fanart (both from my fics and otherwise) and here you expect me to CHOOSE ONE as my favorite? impossible task tbh

okay okay, if I have to pick ONE thing - it'd be this illustration she did for King of My Heart several months ago! Because it's absolutely gorgeous, the color palette is perfect, and the whole thing is giving cover vibes 😍 if I ever were to pursue a fan-binding of KOMH (many moons from now when its finished, lol) I'd love for this piece to be on the cover, or on the title page if that isn't possible.

HOO BOY THIS GOT LONG! If you read all that, thank you - and thanks for playing BCB!