#that is a fucking luxury to have that. i can be nearly -200$ in my bank account and still live in an apartment and have food and water

[suitetarts]

mosquito bite

Astarion x Original Female Character, Dark Urge Tav (Good) Angst/Comfort, Blood No Bite, Kissing, Fluff (Link to AO3) On a peaceful night in the Elfsong Tavern, Astarion comes across a mosquito and sees himself: a blood-sucking parasite. He continues to grapple with his past traumas and future prospects. His lover, a strong-headed and good-hearted drow adventurer, tries her best to help him. Astarion and Delilah are both works-in-progress, struggling on their way to becoming better people and not giving themselves nearly enough credit. They talk and make out a little bit. :)

Now part of a (loose) series: [Next One Shot]

Gentle strums of a lyre filter through the bricks and beams of the Elfsong Tavern. Boisterous drunks and seedy patrons have long since found a berth to sleep, and only the wistful musician dreaming of lovers would dare to intrude on the silence of this twilight. The candles inside the second floor have been dormant for some time now. Long shadows from the oil street lamps drape over fine furnishings, reaching out with clawed hands at those who have yet to rest.

A familiar buzzing sound and a light whisper on his forearm brings Astarion’s attention away from the lyre’s muffled melody as he lies restlessly in his bed, a welcomed luxury even on another sleepless night. He watches the insect as it dances on his skin and prepares its proboscis to pierce him. Astarion smirks, then a flash of anger crosses his elegant features before crushing the bug under his index finger. A red stain is left behind, blood seeping into the crevices of his fingerprint. Astarion can’t help his body’s sanguine hunger pains at the find; a plump mosquito waltzing right up to him would have been a welcomed meal for the previous 200 years.

A creak of floorboards sends Astarion into a panic. His instincts scream at him; he’s fucked, he’s been caught. If it's Dufey or Godey, the elf will be fine if he can just lick the blood away quickly and try to keep his petulant mouth shut, lest they beat him for being a nuisance. If it's any of his abhorrent siblings, Mr. Favorite Leon especially, then he’ll be begged to share. And gods above, if it’s Cazador…

Delilah was on her way over to have a midnight chat with her pale lover, as they often did in the past few months since getting acquainted with each other and the tadpoles in their heads. Afterall, in addition to the rest of their shared misfortune, a drow and a vampire spawn had much in common: a lack of trust in and from others, and dashing good looks, for starters. As she gets closer however, a rustling and sudden stillness makes her pause. She carefully pulls the canopy back from Astarion’s bed and is greeted by wide red eyes the size of dinner plates. His breathing is short and stuttered, and he looks both defiant and terrified.

Astarion is only vulnerable for a brief moment however, before he forcefully sharpens his eyes and puts on a rehearsed smile as he whispers, “Oh, darling, I was just, erm–”

“‘Just dreaming of my sweet succulent Dellie, until I was bombarded with a thought of Halsin’s greasy hair?’” Delilah sings quietly in a mocking impersonation of his patented cheeky drawl. As playful as she sounds, the slant of her own maroon eyes and her limbs still frozen in place from when she first saw his state betrays her concern for him.

The gig is up, if it was ever even possible to lie to her anymore. Astarion shrinks as she sits beside him. “It haunts me that he uses the same soap bar everywhere,” he says halfheartedly. She knows how to get him to talk - sitting comfortably in his lying, sad sack house of cards until he’s ready to let it fall apart.

“Ew,” Delilah laughs, her eyebrows still stitched together in concern. His rehearsed smile fades into a quivering frown, and he turns to look at her through his dark eyelashes. Her heart swells with equal parts love and pity, as much as she knows he would hate the latter.

She leans towards him, moving her arms to hover over Astarion’s lean form. The body of a vampire is not the most conducive to cuddling, thanks to the lack of any mass that isn’t bone, muscle, or cold skin. And in particular, in her limited experience, Delilah has found vampires to be choosy and fickle when they want to be touched. Totally understandable situation, of course, with all that Astarion has been through, but it can be like reaching into a mystery box every time she seeks him out. Delilah has learned this careful dance of respect and waits for a response.

Astarion’s mouth turns slightly upward and he purposefully sways into her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she clings to his torso. He opens his mouth to speak, pauses, and starts again carefully, “You startled me.”

“Sorry. Were you having a bad dream?”

“Not technically.” After a pause, he continues in a higher tone of voice, “But also, the damned idiot down there doesn’t know how to keep a tune. It’s rather hard to sleep like this.”

She smiles into his chest. “You’re in a goose down feather bed with silk sheets at the finest tavern we’ve seen in months, and you’re complaining about the music?”

Astarion sneers and clicks his tongue against his fangs. “Darling, you’ve been sleeping on too many mushrooms and rocks underground if you think this is silk. The finest tavern in the Lower City is still in the Lower City. I feel sorry for your lack of standards.”

“By the gods, not this again.” Delilah huffs, her cackles raising in defense. “Silk is silk. You surface dwellers are the ones who make it so complicated, what with this being from Cormyr or that being from Calimshan.” As she’s talking with her hands, she feels a rumble of laughter in his chest and it only angers her further. She spits venom as she continues, “And for the record, all of your taverns are lacking from what I’ve seen so far. I’m loathe to see what kind of embarrassing shit holes you show me in your beloved Upper City.”

Astarion practically purrs at the sight of his little love all worked up. “I don’t recall you showing me anything better when we were in the Underdark.”

Delilah very nearly calls on the Weave within herself to smite him here and now. “You are so annoying–” 

She cuts herself off. His smug, smirking aura is palpable, in stark contrast to the frightened look she saw on his face before entering this embrace. Delilah recognizes this: a careful replacement of his mask. She can’t see his face from where she’s tucked into his chest, and Astarion’s tight hold is nearly a confession. She playfully struggles against him to free herself and he puts up a valiant effort, but any amount of force to keep her controlled could wake the others.

As Delilah turns to face him, her vision catches a small dark patch on his usually perfectly white shirt. She moves her body out of the way to allow light from the street to bring color to it, and she’s rather unsurprised to see its blood.

Astarion follows her eyes down onto the sleeve covering his bicep and groans. He turns his other arm around to see the mosquito’s body and the blood within has been smeared off. A few months ago he would have nearly mourned the loss of perfectly good blood and sucked what he could salvage out of the linen fibers like an animal. Tonight, though, it's just an inconvenience. Even as he complains, a genuine smile in his voice seeps through, “Gods. I just bleached this too.”

She pulls at the fabric of his shirt with a sigh. “Come on then, my love. Let’s go take care of it before the stain sets.”

The pair make their way out of the tavern and into the street, stealing a washing board from some poor sod’s balcony on their way to the nearby public fountain and freshwater spigot. The late hour has Delilah and Astarion almost sleep drunk now that they’ve left the comfort and stillness of their rooms, although their whispers and softened footsteps are tame compared to the shadowy debauchery of the darkened Lower City streets.

Delilah clutches at her stomach as they approach the fountain, quickly finding a seat on the cold marble as she contains her mirth. “I couldn’t believe the look on Shadowheart’s face. She was so mad.”

“Ha! You’d think I stabbed her,” Astarion giggles.

They both work through the laughter, with her preparing the bleaching chemicals and him beginning to pull the stained shirt over his head. The streets are mostly empty, but not barren enough for Astarion to want to flaunt his infernal branding. Before he can even truly hesitate, Delilah hands him her outer robes to cover up with. His bashful glance is all the thanks she needs, and she quickly paws at him to get him out of his white shirt.

Delilah attempts to make quick work of the stain, being careful not to unnecessarily stress the aged fabric that Astarion has spent so many years tending to. His eyes twinkle boyishly as he watches her fumble with the washing board.

“Any harder and my poor blouse will burst at the seams. How old are you to be washing fine clothes so carelessly?”

Her head whips around murderously fast, her eyes on fire and her mouth already in a scowl. “Like I’ve told you a hundred times, I’ve never had to take care of my own clothes before, you ass!”

Astarion laughs at Delilah’s anger, although he quickly corrects himself with a series of “No, no, no!” ‘s as she appears to grind his shirt mercilessly into the metal. A smug smile emerges from her face as she reveals the shirt looking no worse for wear. He dramatically sighs, having been duped by her using his own sleight of hand tricks against him.

At this rather mundane affair, the world seems to pause. The soft yellow glow of dozens of oil lamps, the swaying of flower baskets as the sun’s light begins to set the horizon ablaze, the foggy echoes of jolly parties hanging low to the street’s cobblestones as the city gets ready for a new day, it all pales in comparison to her. Fiery passion but also seemingly limitless understanding and grace for a wretch like himself, and she’s an attractive, powerful drow? It’s almost something he could have expected to see in a porn pamphlet. Astarion can’t help himself from retreating to the hiding spaces of his flirts and creature comforts, but she makes it so easy to be real.

“Del, I–” Astarion starts, but he stutters and loses his steam. As far as she’s concerned, the whole city falls quiet at the sound of her name from his lips. He finds Delilah’s gaze, the deep red wine of her irises reflecting the world around her except the one thing she’s staring at.

Her lips pull sweetly into a smile as her wet, warm hand finds his icy grip on the fountain’s edge. Delilah takes her time before she breaks the silence.  “This is nice, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had anything this nice,” Astarion says with a bitter laugh. He pulls at the collar of her robe with his free hand, feeling the soft fabric shift over the scars on his back. 

“We can have this all the time when the brain is gone,” she coos.

Astarion shakes his head, taking her index finger in his hand and pointing it towards the sunrise. “Not this. Not when my tadpole is gone.” He pulls their hands back towards his chest and sighs.

Delilah hums in thought. She could be difficult in her bratty drow fashion, but instead she says mournfully, “This is so beautiful and warm. I'm sorry.”

“Before I got kidnapped, I’d forgotten. And being warm was just–” A parade of lovers flashes across Astarion’s mind, hundreds and thousands of warm kisses and steamy nights all ending at Cazador’s gilded doors. He grunts out of his nose, gripping Delilah’s hand tighter. “I learned to stop missing it. But to lose it again?”

“Everything is different now, Astarion.” She clasps her other hand over their conjoined hold, pivoting on the ball of her foot to kneel in front of him at the fountain. “We can travel the world by its shadows and find a way to cure you.”

“You have no idea how much I want to believe what you say, my love,” he murmurs, too tired to bite his words.

Delilah’s anger is a constant simmer in her blood, perhaps leftover from the black, murderous tar of Bhaal’s heritage. She has struggled against this part of herself in every way, shape, and form, but seeing Astarion like this gets her boiling.

“Believing is for children and liars.” Delilah’s soft features sour on her words, the acidity pulling Astarion away from his self-loathing. “Belief in shitty gods has done neither of us any favors. No, trust me,” she spits. He leans in towards her and hangs on every syllable, her breath hot on his face. “You helped me break my chains to Bhaal. I will cure you of this curse. Trust me–”

Lips crush against hers, Astarion’s grip on her hands loosened by the conviction in her voice and the sweet nectar of her mouth. Delilah gives a short muffled protest before pulling her hands up to cup his face. He opens his eyes briefly, seeing the morning sunlight dancing on her freckled gray neck and his blindingly porcelain arm. Two delicate creatures of darkness, here in the sun. Who is to say he doesn’t belong?

Astarion kisses her and kisses her and kisses her, until his teeth hurt and her hair is twisted in knots in his hands. She licks into him; her warm, pulsing tongue dragging across his fangs. He groans, his muscles tensing painfully like an over-tuned instrument. “You drive me mad,” he gasps into her mouth.

Delilah pulls away, touching a finger to her tongue and almost disappointed to find it unbloodied. The radiant flames she lit in his chest threatens to burn him whole. She’s wrecked and slovenly, a wretch at a public fountain with hair hanging loosely across her face and a muddy flush to her cheeks, and to Astarion she’s positively divine. He’s starving, pulling her in for more.

[bylightofdawn]

Omnomnomnom. Dinner tonight is red beans and rice with andouille sausage and jalapeño cornbread.

I’m definitely feeling my Houstonian childhood with this meal. The major drawback of living in the Hill Country though is that it’s nearly impossible to find good andouille that is properly spicy in the grocery store. And the boxes red beans and rice is nearly tasteless so I end up adding a shit ton of Cajun spices and inevitably go overboard with it. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, mind you. I could make it from scratch but that’s a lot of work when I can just dump a shit ton of ragin Cajun seasoning into the pot.

I’m gonna be eating good for the next few days which is good because I have training all this week and Im not looking forward to it. The less cooking I need to do, the better. NGL Im seriously debating looking for a new job but I’ve been at this one for almost five years at this point. I also get the luxury of being a permanent work from home employee since they moved the call center to TN.

But they haven’t given us any substantive raises in like two to three years and my rent has gone up 200 bucks a month with the prospect they might try and Jack it up in August when my lease is up and the cost of living has skyrocketed in the past year. I need a new job which is going to pay me at least two to five dollars more and hour so that I’m not struggling and freaking out at any little emergency expense like my shitlord of a cat getting sick and costing me 1500 dollars in vet bills.

I would really like to get out of Texas all together and move closer to the West coast but then my mom who is constantly having crisis and emergencies would be fucked because she literally has no support network and is struggling to survive on disability alone. She’s constantly taking about leaving my toxic as fuck step father and at this point, I think it would be best for them both mentally and emotionally but there’s no way she could survive on her own. Especially if I’m not there to bail her out.

The smart thing would be to offer to find a two bedroom place so I can support her but…omfg that would be disastrous for MY mental health. My mom is a very toxic, self-destructive woman child and I would rather crawl across battery acid and broken glass than live with her again.

I’d rather find a job that pays more so I can chip in when she inevitably overdraws her bank from buying cigarettes and going to the bar. Which…bleh job hunting. I’m going to give this a few more months at work and see if they start offering a more livable wage, otherwise since they are now forcing work from home agents to work business accounts on TOP of consumer for no better wage increase…well it’s back to the job hunt I go. 😩

[kakashiswilloffire]

hiiiii. congratulations on 200 followers! you deserve so many more and i can’t wait to see your blog grow & grow & grow.

If it’s still available, i’d love to see perfect for you with kakashi.

thank you so much & congratulations again! 💕

thank you so much!! this was so much fun to write and i hope you love it!!

perfect for you

ao3 & song

words: 1.2k

warnings: marijuana use

It was not often you could convince Kakashi to get high. Though he would never confirm it, you were at least a hundred and ten percent certain that he was in ANBU, and ninety-eight percent sure he was the operative called Hound. If he wasn't, you'd have one more missed opportunity to blame on Hiruzen. Because of how often he needed to be on call and mission-ready, he rarely consumed sake, let alone recreational drugs. But there comes a point in every shinobi's career that sparked mixed opinions: mandatory paid time off.

You were firmly pro time off, especially for your workaholic boyfriend who took every mission he was physically qualified and available to take. He was always gone on one A rank or another, and several that you suspected were actually S rank. In fairness, you were also frequently out of the village on your own missions. But you had saved your time off until Kakashi had been forced to take his, and you now had a full week together at an onsen outside of the Leaf, and had made it clear you were not to be contacted.

You both laid on a mound of pillows, your head on his chest as you basked in the after-dinner glow. The miso soup followed by a selection of sushi was exactly what you needed. The luxury and comfort of your solitude and privacy together, in a room with no windows on an upper floor, meant that Kakashi was able to eat in front of you without rushing to replace his mask. A few kisses had kept him out of it. Then there was the small pipe you had packed and lit and were passing off to him.

You reminded him quickly how to pull, making sure he covered the small hole with his thumb, and had him take a couple of shallow, experimental breaths. He got his short coughing fit out of the way, then began smoking with you in earnest.

It didn't take long for him to feel the effects, melting into the blanket beneath him and cracking a lazy grin. You made sure to limit yourself, prepared to babysit him if necessary, relishing his fall into relaxation.

He started with scrunching his fist over and over, the grin growing as he felt the spark and glow spread across his body. He rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows and reached out to you, ghosting his fingers across your jaw, thumb hovering over your lips. You popped your mouth open just enough to lick the tip of it, causing him to jerk back and giggle. God, if his giggle was the last sound you heard, you’d die happy.

You both continued like this for a few minutes, letting him explore his modified senses as he settled in to the high.

“Konoha’s shinobi structure is shit.”

You paused, confused what prompted Kakashi to offer that recognition so suddenly.

“Hiruzen is borderline incompetent sometimes. And, the pollution in the Nara river is at an all time high, and I’m not sure what Danzo is doing with the Foundation, he approached me about it last year and I shut him down, remember? The newest batch of academy students have all the major clan heads and right now they’re not showing any promise. Also, there’s so much litter? Like all over the village?”

You chuckled hesitantly, not sure why he had chosen now to start analyzing flaws in the Hidden Leaf. “Kakashi, that’s true, and I hear you, but—”

He rolled over again, sitting up and grabbing you by one shoulder. “I’m trying to tell you I love you.”

What?

It had been almost eight months since you had gotten together, and you had both made it clear that there was no pressure to say “love”. Sure, there had been some hope that the romantic atmosphere of this trip away might lead to the right moment for you both to confess some feelings, but like this?

Before you could say anything else, your boyfriend continued his tirade.

“We’re still dealing with the fallout of the Third Great Ninja War, and there’s always rumors of the Fourth. Then the kyuubi attack, and Minato-sensei, Kushina-sensei, all the civilians lost— and the fucking environment! Did you know this summer was the hottest on record Konoha’s ever had?”

You took the hand Kakashi was gesturing with and held it between both of yours, lowering your head slightly to give him a firm look. “This is one fucked up seduction, ‘Kashi.”

He shook his head, twisting his hand around to hold yours.

“I’m just one person and it doesn’t matter how many missions I take, I can’t save the world by myself. The more I travel, the more issues I see, and there’s already so many problems at home. The whole planet is kind of fucked. But, I know that there’s still hope, because this disaster of an existence managed to give me you.”

He hooked a hand around your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek as he continued and his warm palm holding lightly to your jaw.

“Babe, I could be perfect for you. I mean, I know I come off as lazy and don’t have many friends, not the way Asuma does, but Gai tries, and you try, God, you try so hard to bring me out of my head—” He paused, a cough catching him off guard. “And I’m a bit of a stoner,” he grinned, gesturing at the pipe you had brought along, and you giggled together, rolling your eyes at him.

Kakashi took a breath, focusing in on you with deadly seriousness. “Despite all my faults, I’ll make myself perfect for you, if nothing else. I mean, you’ve done more for me than I could ever dream of asking anyone. You eat my tempura and you order extra miso for me, just to start.”

You shook your head, letting a warm laugh spill from your lips. “You’re something else, Kakashi. I’m just a shinobi, just like you. Not nearly as brave as you are.”

He squeezed your hand in his, bringing you into his reality. “Fuck that. You’re incredible. You’re so creative in how you strategize, and you’re so kind and smart and strong. My dad would love you.” You took the compliments, swallowing down the urge to downplay yourself.

“I can’t fix what’s fucked up. But I know that you’re not, and that we’re not. Everything else in the world can turn to shit tomorrow, but I know that we’d still be here, we’d still be okay. I love you, babe.” He leaned forward, wrapping you in a firm embrace, though still a bit clumsy. You kissed him, trying to pack as much love in between you as you could in the short span.

“I can be perfect for you, too, Kakashi,” you finally whispered when you pulled back, pressing your forehead to his.

He grinned, running his hand through your hair and down your spine, settling around your waist. “Let’s be perfect together, okay?”

[oswald-privileges]

ALL RIGHT BUT YOU ASKED FOR IT

Power of Three as a series is just. full of weaknesses, most of which come down to poor continuity and structure. I'm not gonna try and fix ALL of those, bc that'd be laborious as hell, but I will pick out things that I feel are the most egregious as case studies.

What Po3 does have, tho, is an absolutely shining strength in the concept of its three main characters. After twelve books of Blandly Heroic Protagonist Syndrome, Jayfeather is an absolute godsend. He's angry! He's rude! He's unhappy! He's not nice. I Love Him And He's My Son. Lionblaze has his invincible pride (hah) and emergent bloodlust, and Hollyleaf has her moral absolutism and certainty. These are good starting points for characters. Sadly, the lack of continuity undermines what could have been three really good character arcs.

So! I present to you:

HOW TO MAKE "WARRIORS: THE POWER OF THREE" NOT COMPLETELY SUCK ACCORDING TO MY PERSONAL TASTE; A NON-EXHAUSTIVE, NON-CONSECUTIVE LIST BY ME

ONE

- Have there be a persistant, overarching series threat. Sol is a character with amazing villain potential who does literally nothing except hang around, and do exactly 2 Bad Things completely off-screen. This Is Not Good.

- Instead, have him be present from the second book onwards- initially introduced as a friendly but enigmatic outsider who is slowly revealed across the series to be a complete black hole of a personality, a social parasite quietly rearranging whatever community he's a part of to just-so-happen to benefit him as much as humanly possible. His "preach individualism not starclan" methods are not so much values as one strategy out of many. (to those who know me- yes i have a type. no i will not apologise.)

- Maybe his ultimate goal is to dissolve and centralise the clans or something so that he can live out his life as a political puppetmaster in all the cat-luxury he likes. idk it's hard to imagine overall stakes for this rewrite BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL DOESN'T HAVE ANY

TWO

- For gods sake you don't have a series based on the premise of "the main characters develop super powers" and then only have the second power confirmed by the end of the fourth book. I understand the first book mostly focusing on Jayfeather- his powers are obvious from the start, he's got the strongest personality of the three, he gets access to most of the prophecy plot stuff because of them. But you NEED to have the other two show an interest in something concrete happening to them beyond that, and you need to at least hint towards the other two having something unique to them even if nobody clocks it yet.

- Have Jayfeather tell his siblings about the prophecy by the end of book two at the latest. The amount of time he spends noodling around not sharing it with them is inexcusable. It's not that it's out of character for him to hang onto a secret for a bit, it's just that there's no point and it slows everything down. It would be equally in character for him to go to his siblings and be like "look, i'm SPECIAL. well you as well but ALSO ME". Boy starts off as desperate for recognition, what can I say

THREE

- Have Jayfeather discover that StarClan don't withhold signs or information on purpose for the sake of "building courage and faith" or whatever nonsense. Seeing and communicating the future is metaphysically very difficult, so interpreting signs and messages is a genuine skill, or even an art. The cats of StarClan, however, really are just ghosts, much more similar to living cats than the currently living believe. This is the impotus for Jayfeather's discarding of his reverence for StarClan, which remains consistent throughout the series.

- Have Hollyleaf and Jayfeather both still change their cat careers in the first book, but put place more attention on the fact that they basically switched jobs. Have a scene where they end up yelling at each other, because can't the other see how lucky they have it? The tension breaks when they realise they've both lost something important to them- Jayfeather his chance to prove he's as capable as a sighted cat, and Hollyleaf her path to helping her clan in the way she thinks is best. They commiserate together, and reluctantly promise to do the best they can with their lots, so they don't waste the path the other wishes they'd taken. This closeness is eroded over the series as they disagree more and more on the subject of StarClan and its role in their moral choices and obligations.

FOUR

- Speaking of Hollyleaf! I nearly threw my phone across the room when the first Omen of the Stars book claimed that Hollyleaf "worked so hard to discover her power to help her clan". Where, Ms Erins??? I would have LOVED to have seen that!! Hollyleaf expresses absolutely no concern over the details of what power she has/will develop, and only has a couple of scenes even touching on her ambitions to help her clan. She has some vague ideas about becoming leader and like one scene where she gets to do some leadery things, but that never gets followed up on. What does happen is that the whole "warrior code" thing becomes more and more a part of her personality (for no clear reason) until she snaps.

- Hollyleaf going off the deep end is something I wanted so badly to get into and be moved by, because I could see where it comes from! Her moral certainty is fascinating, especially since it's based in something as abstract as the warrior code- which, when you think about it, isn't really... anything. There's no concrete set of rules that make it up, no traditional wording or cat philosophers, not even any fables. It's a handful of agreed-upon, common sense rules- don't cross boundaries, don't take prey that isn't yours, respect your ancestors, and don't murder. That's it!

- So, combining the above points, I think Hollyleaf not being one of the Three should stay, but both the audience and the characters are given good reason to believe she is. By around the third volume, make it so that Hollyleaf has found that her power is to get cats to "Do The Right Thing"- i.e. what she wants them to do. She sneaks off often to see Sol, who teachs her how to use this power. Her siblings are concerned about this new power, having already gotten a glimpse at what Sol can do, but she's confident that she can only use this power for good. Volume-specific plot happens, Sol manipulates her into causing him to win, she is shocked and horrified, and vows to stick ridgedly to what she knows is right i.e. The Warrior Code

- However, the more fervently she tries to stick to this abstract idea, the less it gives her results, the more her power seems to be failing. Believing that StarClan is taking her power away from her, she becomes caught up in a faith-guilt spiral that puts her in the position to snap at the end of the series. By that point it's clear to her siblings that Hollyleaf has no power- she was just very, very good at persuading people to do what she wanted.

FIVE

- Lionblaze is a girl now because I Said So. This Cat Is Trans And There's Nothing You Can Do About It.

- Her relationship with Heathertail stays the same- childhood sweethearts who are torn apart as they begin to understand the nature of the societal divides that exist between them.

- This can be used to contextualise the whole "half clan/outsider blood" thing as a cultural contradiction. In reality, inter- and outer- clan relationships aren't at all rare. They can't be, otherwise the whole society would be inbred out of existence in like five generations. But if at least one society of humans can spend a good 200 years pretending Sex Is Bad And Sinful Actually then cats can have persistant cat-racism in the face of all logic. Heathertail clocks this contradiction, Lionblaze doesn't.

- Her relationship-to-power arc doesn't need changing all that much either, other than starting much sooner and being more consistent. At first, she's completely overjoyed by her power, since unlike her siblings, it lines up so well with her ambition- become the finest warrior any of the clans have to offer. As the berserker rage aspect becomes more prevelent, she becomes more and more disturbed by the fact that she isn't disturbed by what she can do, and that she doesn't want the escalation of her power to stop.

- Tigerstar still does his thing, but Brambleclaw knows about it. He recognises the signs from when his father used to visit him, and tries to train Lionblaze in his own way. She ends up caught between wanting to be a good warrior, and testing the limits of her power.

SIX

- Jayfeather can stay basically the same because he's my perfect little angy boy and nothing needs to change. His arcs can be strengthened by having a more robust relationship with Yellowfang where they try to out-bitch each other, and coming to terms with his internalised ablism. Maybe he has a chat with Mothwing about faith a couple of times. Him furiously lashing out at being offered help transitions into an acceptence and understanding of his abilities more naturally. He never stops being A Grumpy Old Man.

- All fucking past-lives unexplained time travel goes in the BIN. Doesn't fucking happen. You can have that lore dump sprinkled across the books, or come from going deep into the tunnels and having a surreal meeting. Make it properly eldritch-level scary, shake Jayfeather's confidence in the idea of them being just a bunch of ghosts.

SEVEN

- Have the way Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight present very clearly as parents to the Three be explicitly, textually unusual. One of the things I liked so much about the first series was an almost total lack of emphasis on who was mated with who, and who was related or not. It felt very real to how feral cat colonies form, where raising kittens is a communal job. This gets completely dropped the moment series 2 starts and now the cats have monogamy.

- This emphasis on the family unit and fostering close relationships between parents and kittens is deliberate on the part of both Leafpool and Squirrelflight. Their aim is to cover for Leafpool so she doesn't lose her role as medicine cat- something she already gave up Crowfeather for before she was pregnant.

- In that little bit of backstory, have a robust reason for both Leafpool and Squirrelflight to leave the camp while Leafpool is pregnant and giving birth, possibly one that ties into the present day story in some minor way. I don't know how, it would just make that element of the story a lot more ground than "we left, the kits were born, then we came back and everyone was cool with it"

- When it comes to the "I am Not your mother" reveal, Jayfeather and Lionblaze are confused and hurt that they were lied to, but come to the reasonable conclusion that well, since they were raised mostly by Squirrelflight, saw Leafpool often, and are loved by both, they don't hate her. Lionblaze has something of a crisis over being half-clan, possibly initiating an attempted reunion with Heathertail. Jayfeather is more concerned with how other cats will think it makes him lesser, something he's still sensitive too.

- Hollyleaf, meanwhile, completely fucking snaps at the way her mother Violated Part Of The Code. It's a completely irrational reaction, but expected because she's been growing more and more reliant on The Code for the whole series, and less and less stable in her attempts to aid her clan and train to be its new leader.

- Squirrelflight is the one to murder Ashfur. This is easy to work out while reading- she's literally the only one of the four with a motive who isn't a perspective character. The mystery is less around finding out who did it, and more about why she did it (it's very ambiguous as to whether it was an accident or not). The main tension comes from who finds out when.

- Lionblaze is shocked, awed by how far she'd go to protect the three of them, and reassures her she did the right thing (as a way to salve her own uncertainty over her own longing for violence). Jayfeather makes it all about himself because he's Jayfeather- upset that he didn't know immediately, instead of, you know, figuring it out in a few hours because he can basically read minds. They try their best to hide it from Hollyleaf, who is already rattling around the final volume as a full-on antagonist, but are unsuccessful. This almost costs them something incredibly important- possibly Squirrelflight's life.

EIGHT

- the whole plot with the Tribe Of Rushing Water is a MASSIVE can of worms that could be removed from the series without issue. As it is:

- Characterize the Tribe as uncertain of how to fight other cats, because yes, they haven't had to do this before. DON'T characterise them as pathetic, doing whatever their leader says without thinking, and with ancestors who have Given Up

- Have some of the Tribe be really good at the violence. Worryingly good. Have others be sickened by what they're being asked to do.

- Have some of the clan cats reflect on what they've done. Hollyleaf would be all for introducing this society to jesus The Code, but even she might be horrified at being thanked by a tribe cat who can't wait to get out there and win themselves glory, only to be killed a few hours later

- The Tribe begin a new tradition of marking the walls in the mud they use as camoflage in order to commemorate their battles, and memorialise the fallen. One of the characters reflects on the fact that in a generation or two, the Tribe will feel like it's always been this way. How many of their own traditions- those that feel almost like natural law- started out the same way?

- Have Sol as the leader of the invaders, or maybe having insinuated himself into the tribe as a "mediator" and doing his charismatic cult leader thing.

NINE

- Cinderheart isn't a reincarnation of Cinderpelt. She's just named after her bc Cinderpelt saved her mother from a badger. this is because I think the reincanation thing is stupid and I can't think of a way to make it good.

TEN

- No more using tails as hand gestures like covering people's mouths. Never. None of it. It's expunged from existence.

Disclaimer: I haven't read Omen of the Stars yet, so I can't account for anything that might happen in that series that's grounded in Po3. I'm like... two thirds of the way through the first volume. I'm Not Impressed.

[axwalker]

Bad Timing: Kismet

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together. 

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood? 

This chapter

MASTERLIST 

WORDS: 3,890 🙊

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this chapter. In the future, mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes. 

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors. 

I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ POV several time in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!

PRESENT TIME Alexis

 After a one-hour bus ride and a 20-minutes walk, I finally find the correct address. When I reach the massive iron gates, I punch in the code Mr. Beaumont’s assistant gave me on the phone and gape as the extensive estate comes into view when I walk through. Acres and acres of super green grass littered with pines surround the massive house in the distance. The closer I get, the more I feel like a foreigner. This might have been my world once, but my new reality couldn’t be further apart from all this luxury. I have fifty dollars left in my wallet, an eviction notice back in my 200 square foot studio, and to top it all, the worst freaking headache I’ve had in my life. Talk about a bad streak. Ironically, I’m happier than I’ve been in years. My life belongs to me; I don’t have to live in constant fear and –most importantly, I’m free. Unattached. I want to do a lot of things with my life, and no one will stop me. That’s worth the worst headache in the world or a few money problems. 

I ring the bell, and a gorgeous woman opens the door. Her deep blue eyes scowl at me when I smile at her. 

“Who are you looking for?” She doesn’t ask as much as she barks the question. 

“Eh,” I haven’t been called shy a single day of my life, but her attitude it’s messing with the positive vibes I had coming up here. “I’m looking for Mr. Bertrand Beaumont from Beaumont Caterings.”

 “This door is for house guests only. The help,” she says the word as if it tastes bad in her mouth, “must go around the house and ring the bell back there.” She’s about to close the door right in my face when two hot guys come to the door. Seriously, what do people eat in this country? 

“Penelope, what are you doing answering the door like a simple maid? Where is Jessa?” 

Penelope rolls her eyes. “She had to leave early. She said she asked you for the afternoon off.”

The older man nods as, the younger one grins at me. “We can discuss Jessa’s schedule later, Bertie. Please, come in, Ms.?” He asks me, still smiling. 

“Ortiz. Alexis Ortiz.” I grin back, instantly liking the man with the kind blue eyes. “I’m here for the catering job.” 

“I’m Maxwell Beaumont. This is my brother Bertrand—the owner and Penelope Brim, one of our party planners.”

I follow them to a huge office and give Bertrand the resumé I printed at the internet place next to my building.  

“Is this all true?” He asks after a quick read.

I nod my head.

“Are you sure, Ms. Ortiz? It says here that you were working as a bartender, a barista, and a waitress in a very exclusive French restaurant, all at the same time.”

Penelope gives me a dismissive glare. “She’s obviously lying. That isn’t even possible. Unless she’s iniquitous.” 

I know better than to interrupt a potential employer, even worse if it’s to correct them, but this woman is grating on my nerves. Plus, I had a lifetime of keeping my head down with Matt, and I just don’t have the patience for this kind of crap anymore. And she called me a liar. Hell no.

“No, Ms. Brim, I’m not ubiquitous.” Maxwell snorts, and I swear the other guy, Bertrand, smiles behind my CV. I refrain from telling her what iniquitous actually means because I do need this job. “I worked as a barista in a Starbucks from 5 to 11 am. Then as a waitress at “Clair de Lune” from 12 to 6 pm. Finally, as a bartender in an Irish pub from 7 to midnight or 2 am, depending on the day. You can call any of those places and see I’m not lying.” Just please, God, don’t ask for my papers.

Maxwell reads the resumé when Bertrand gives it to him. “Do you speak French and Spanish as well?”

I shrug. “I love languages, and I grew up in a house where my mom and grandmother only spoke Spanish. I learned French in school. I had an amazing teacher.” 

Maxwell and Bertrand look at each other. The older brother, a younger, sterner version of Hugh Jackman, clears his throat. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Ortiz. Two of our waiters are absent, and tomorrow we’ll be catering to one of the most important events of the year. If everything in your resume is true, you can start training today --paid of course, and start working tomorrow.”

Paid training? Despite my throbbing head, I want to scream with happiness. “Everything is true.”

“That’s settled then. Penelope, please, darling, show Ms. Ortiz the kitchens and the ballroom. You can ask Naomi to train her for tonight. You know Regina, and she’ll want everything to go as smooth as possible.” 

“Right.” Penelope turned at me with an uptight smile. “Come with me.” 

I turn and beam at Maxwell, who’s giving me a thumbs up. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.” 

Bertrand shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Ortiz. Just do an impeccable job.” He glances at my Vans. “And for the love of God, only heels tomorrow.” 

I nod and follow Penelope down the hallway. 

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

DRAKE

 “This is why you ditch your friends who get hitched to a relationship,” I grumble, sitting in my chair. 

“He’s five minutes late,” Liam says. 

Leo shakes his head. “Well, I want a goddamn drink. How come I can’t order one until he gets here?” 

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are acting like children. You can wait five minutes.” 

“Maybe, but I need something, and fast.” 

“Ah, there they are,” Max exclaims, hands clasped together, staring at us. “My boys.” Jesus Christ. Liam is scooped into a hug and then set back in his chair. 

From over Liam’s head, Max points at me and shakes his finger. “Come here; you handsome Walker bastard.” 

I hold up my hand. “I’m good.”

 “Nope.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to pass up Max’s snuggles.” Before I can move, he swoops to his knees, pulls me into a hug. . . and nuzzles. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Beaumont?” I ask, my voice strong as I try to push him away. 

“You smell like heaven,” he says, chuckling. No one likes to fuck with me as much as Maxwell Beaumont does. Unfortunately for me, he’s one of my best friends, and the bastard is well aware of it. 

“Get out of here.” I palm his face and push him away. 

Leo laughs. “Come on, man, you know Walker is a sour bastard.” 

With another laugh, Maxwell retreats to his seat, unbuttons his jacket, and sits down. Hands-on the table, he looks between us and declares, “I’m in love.” 

Christ. “We know,” Liam and I say at the same time, irritation heavy in our voices. Leo just rolls his eyes as he looks for a waiter. 

Maxwell has only been dating Rashad for a few weeks, so it’s no surprise he’s like this—a hopeful idiot with a relentless smile. Hell, he’s been in love with the man for years. It took him a really, really long time to finally make a move. He adjusts his tie as he says, “You don’t have to be rude about it. I’m just sharing. Isn’t that what this is all about? Sharing?” 

“Sharing? I thought this was about drinking as much as possible and hooking up with a hot waitress,” Leo says, flagging down our waiter. 

When he arrives, I talk above the guys and quickly say, “Macallan, neat.” 

“Dalmore, on the rocks, please,” Liam says, and Leo orders the same. 

When the waiter turns to Max, he rubs his stomach and says, “You know, a hot cocoa would be perfect right now.”

 What the actual fuck? “No.” I step in. “He’ll have an Old Fashion. Thanks.” A little confused and probably slightly disturbed, he takes off as Max complains. 

“Hey, I really wanted a hot cocoa.” 

“Not happening. First, because they don’t serve hot cocoas here and second because we’re supposed to be out drinking, Beaumont. And you fucking love Old Fashions. You order one every damn time. Stop complaining.” 

“Sheesh.” Maxwell unfolds his napkin and sets it on his lap. “What’s up your ass?” 

“Nothing.” I push my hand through my hair. 

“It’s a girl.” Leo smirks, causing Liam and Max to practically jump out of their seats.

“A girl?” Liam cocks his eyebrow. “Surely not Drake --permanent bachelor, Walker. My fucking heart can’t take it.” 

Fucking Leo. “It’s not what Leo is making it out to be.” 

“He met her two months ago, and he’s been thinking about her ever since. Magical pussy right there.”

“I swear, Leo; I don’t care for how long we’ve been friends, next time you talk about her like that, I’ll personally break that shit-eat grin off your face”

The clown raises his arms. “I rest my case.”

 “What?” Max’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. “Drake Walker doesn’t get attached, and he doesn’t duel his friends for a girl.” 

Jesus. Thankfully the waiter brings our drinks at that moment, so I have a second to compose myself. 

“You slept with her?” Liam asks after a swig of Dalmore. He’s been in a stable relationship with Hanna Lee for a year now. Once the most popular guy on school, he now spends his Friday nights curled up with her watching Netflix. I can’t even remember the last time he went out with us. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. The only reason this fuckhead is bringing it up it’s because I went looking for her, and he saw it.” There I said it. Better me than Leo fucking Rys. 

Max and Liam exchange a look, but Max seems too stunned to talk, so Liam asks. “You did what?”

I chug my whiskey and ask for another one. “I don’t know why. I just …” Tired of this fucking conversation, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We had a great time. That’s all.”

 “How come Leo knows about this girl, and I don’t?” Liam complains. 

Max complains too. “Dude, you know I’m the romantic one. Leo over here has a brick for a heart, and Li is too busy. You need to discuss these things with me.” 

“I don’t have a brick for a heart,” Leo says, surprisingly offended. 

“No, you’re just still hung up on Maddie,” I say with a smirk. He shifts in his chair but doesn’t say anything. What does it feel, Rys? 

“So . . . who is the girl?” Maxwell asks. 

For fuck’s sake. I might as well get it over with. “I’m going to say one last time that I’m not interested in her anymore, so before your little hearts starts beating wildly for playing cupid, it’s not going to happen.” 

In a snarky tone, Leo replies, “Well, of course, it’s not. She left the country. Are you that bad, Walker? Because I can give you a tip or two.” He’s so fucking annoying. 

“Oh.” Max sighs, disappointed.  

Leo elbows his brother and says, “He hasn’t slept with anyone since.” 

And there it is. The real reason why Leo is worried about this. He lost his wingman. “I’m not an animal, Leo. It’s not the first time in my life that I go two months without fucking. I’m not you. Anyway, all this is pointless. She’s gone.” 

My friends grew up with me, so they know when it’s time to stop pushing. Max interrupts the silence that follows because nothing makes little Beaumont more uncomfortable than a gap in the conversation. “Everything is ready for the party tomorrow night. The thirtieth anniversary of Rys Corporation will be a success.” 

Liam nods. “Regina talked with Hana this morning. It’s the first anniversary since I took over as CEO. I need everything to be perfect.” 

“What about the staff, Max?” Leo asks, smiling. Having sex at every anniversary party is a personal challenge of his. 

“We actually hired someone today. She’s gorgeous.” He turns his head at Leo. “But she’s off-limits.” Leo smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean it, dude. Bertrand said he’s tired of looking for new waitresses. Two quit yesterday morning when they found out that the event was for Rys corporation.”  

“Hey, I never lie. It’s not my fault if they think I’ll call them anyway.” 

“Whatever, just don’t mess with her. Plus, I got to talk to her after her training today. She’s super nice. She’s Am--. Wait.” He says when his phone chimes up. “Sorry, boys. It was a text from Penelope. Apparently, the Chablis hasn’t been delivered yet. I have to call Joelle before I lose my big brother over a wine crisis. See you all tomorrow.” He finishes his cocktail and stands up. 

Liam stands up too. “I should go home too. Han arrived today from Hong Kong.” 

Leo checks his phone. “Wait, Li. I’ll go with you. I have a date with this girl I met last night at Kismet. Do you want to come, man?” He asks me. “I’m sure she has a friend she can introduce you.”

I shake my head. “I’ll finish my whiskey and head home. See you all tomorrow.”

It was only one fucking night. Why can’t I get her out of my head? 

It’s maddening. Or maybe it is a blessing. If I’m still thinking about her after one night, imagine how bad I’d have it after several. It’s best that she stays far the fuck away from me. I’m not interested in long-term attachments of any kind.  I don’t want to think about Lexie Ortiz, but she’s infected my brain. The sound of her teasing laugh haunts me.

And I can’t deny it; it was one hell of a night.

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

ALEXIS 

 “This is a single girl’s paradise.” 

“No,” I grimace, trying to clean the spilled tomato sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical beach with a hot cabana boy giving us free massages... and an endless supply of piñas Coladas.” Naomi laughs, the sound almost lost in the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting orders, Penelope and Bertrand panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy business. 

“Cabana boys may have hot smoking bodies and virility, Lex, but they lack two essential qualities: prestige and money.” 

“So, what you’re saying is that you’d prefer an old limp dick over a young hard one? Interesting,” I answer, teasing her. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid dick. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all, and I couldn’t care less. And I’d be treated properly. Rich guys know how to treat a lady.” 

“Trust me on this, Naomi. Money has absolutely nothing to do with how a man treats a woman.” I should know. “In any case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “if you’re looking for old rich guys, there are tons of opportunities out there.” I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s kidding. After my training last night, she invited me to her house, where I met Theo, her little boy. He’s eight years old and the absolute love of her life. 

“Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes sparkling, “did you see the Rys brothers? One of them is taken, but the other two are single and oh so yummy. Especially the tall and brooding one. I’ll kill for those smoldering brown eyes looking right at my soul” 

I snort. “You really should stop reading romance novels, Nao. And yes. I served one of them and his girlfriend champagne earlier, but he was blond and didn’t have smoldering, brooding eyes. I thought they were only two brothers, though.”

“Well, technically, yes. But Constantine Rys --the super-rich owner of Rys Corporation-- adopted two other kids. A boy and a girl. They all grew up together.” She uncorks several champagne bottles as she speaks.

Now that my uniform is clean, I grab one of the Veuve Clicquot bottles and help her pouring the cold liquid into the glasses on our trays. “How do you know all of that?”

“I’m Cordonian, girl. The Rys siblings are almost royalty in this country. The one that is not an actual Rys is the one with the smoldering eyes. He doesn’t work for the company, though. He’s a … a vet, I think.”  

A veterinarian like Drake. My stupid heart flutters when I think about him. 

“Do we pay you to work or to gossip, ladies?” Penelope screams from the kitchen door. 

Naomi and I roll our eyes and grab our refilled trays. 

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

DRAKE

“This is a huge night for Liam,” Regina says behind her champagne glass. Constantine has been telling everyone, especially her, that he’s ready and happy to retire, but she knows him better than anyone. Leaving Rys Corporation and pass the torch to Liam is much more difficult for Constantine than he cares to admit.  

“It’ll be all right, Regina. Don’t worry. Liam is more than ready to handle the responsibility.”

She throws a glance at Liam, who’s standing a few feet behind me next to his dad. “I just hope he doesn’t forget that his personal life is equally important. He and Hana work too hard.” 

I’m about to answer when one of the waitresses distracts me. Her back is turned to me, so I can’t see her face, but there is something incredibly familiar about the way she moves. She’s passing drinks amongst Regina’s friends. I want to go and see who she is, but Liam catches my eyes across the room.  We exchange a look, one that we’ve exchanged several times over our lives. It was Liam and me when we were younger, walking into his father’s office after getting into a fight at school. It was the two of us when we came home late, and his parents were waiting in the living room as we walked in, drunk. It was the two of us when we wrecked Leo’s new Porsche when we were sixteen, and right now, I know he needs me. Constantine is a great father, but he has too many expectations for his younger son. Liam needs a break. 

Regina sees the exchange and smiles. “Liam’s very lucky to have you, Drake.” She is not our biological mother, but she loves all of us as if she was. And she’s more my mother than Bianca Walker will never be.  

A couple of men look at me, and I try to remember if I should know them from somewhere. I think they’re both on the board of directors at RC. As much as I love the Rys, I will never get used to this shit. Socializing and pretending to like a bunch of people that annoy the fuck out of me. Ignoring them, I make my way to my best friend. Liam is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking serious and put together like the CEO of the largest company in Cordonia should. 

“I think it’s going well,” he says as I approach. “Father was driving me crazy with all his advice.” 

“It’s not only the anniversary of the company, Li. It’s also his first one as the former CEO. It’s normal he feels out of place.” 

Liam nods. “I know. I just wish he’ll trust me more.”

“He does, Liam. He’s just nervous.”

 I’m cut short by Liam’s grin. His gaze slides right behind me and lights up. 

“Would either of you like a glass of champagne?” a female, very familiar voice nearly whispers behind me. 

“I’m good,” Liam answers, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “How about you, Drake?”

 I turn around, and my heart skips a beat. Soft curves, tanned skin, and a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. The brightest, most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Alexis Ortiz tucks a strand of her rich brown hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath. Her eyes widen, and I see she recognizes me but doesn’t mention it. Instead, a faint smile ghosts her luscious lips, and she lifts her chin like she has a secret she won’t tell. A secret we share. Her gaze remains on Liam, almost like she’s afraid to look my way. Finally, she turns to me, and when she does, an adorable blush color her cheeks. 

“Would you, uh, sir?” she asks, taking half a step backward. 

“Would I what?” I press, enjoying too much the way her cheeks turn even pinker. 

“Would you like a drink?” The words leave her lips fast like she wants to pronounce them and run away. I take a step towards her, remembering the night she spent in my arms and how damn perfect she felt. I know I make her nervous because I see little goosebumps erupting on her soft skin.  I smirk at her. “That depends on what you’re offering.”

 I shouldn’t be toying with her, but I can’t help it. I want to keep her talking, to watch her reactions, to see that sweet smile again.  

“I don’t have much to offer,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Unless you like champagne, sir.” She emphasizes the last word.

“I like all sorts of things.” I keep my gaze heavy against hers, not allowing her to look away. She fidgets with her tray and swallows hard but never takes her eyes off mine, too rebellious to look away. The longer our eyes match, the hotter my body becomes. She bits her delicious bottom lip slowly, her dark gaze boring into mine. 

“Is that so?” Liam laughs beside me, and I watch her jump like she forgot he was there. Alexis clears her throat and glances around the room. She turns back to us again, this time a practiced smile on her face. The easy grin and soft laugh are both gone. She wants to get away from me, I can feel it, and I understand. She’s working; it wouldn’t be professional. This is not the time or the place to reconnect. Unfortunately for her, I have other plans.

“Gentlemen ...” With a nod, Alexis walks away as fast as possible. She doesn’t look back, but I watch her until she’s out of sight. 

“What was that?” Liam snickers, loosening his gray silk tie. “I thought you were going to jump on her.” 

I rub my thumb over my lip, still surprised as hell.

“That was Alexis, the girl I met a couple of months ago. Now, if you excuse me, Li, I need to go talk to Bertrand.”  

@mskaneko @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @kat-tia801 @no-one-u-know @thegreentwin @twinkle-320 @forallthatitsworth @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @drakexwillow @moneyfordiamonds 

@yukinagato2012​ @alyssalauren���

[jjmaybanksblog]

Bruises- JJ Maybank

Request: hi❤ I was wondering if u could do the scene where the pogues see JJ's bruises?

Word count: 2,455

Warnings: mentions of physical and verbal abuse.

“We gotta be done before my scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope explained to you and Kie as he pulled up to the back of the Chateau. “Okay, well, we gotta focus.”

“It’s gonna be fine. We got John B and JJ inside the well, and me up top. You, Y/N, and Sarah will be outside transporting.” Pope recalled the plan, exiting the truck.

They headed to the back of his vehicle, opening the back to grab their supplies. “That tin can hold up to like, 200-300 pounds.”

“Thanks.” Kie praised him as she unlatched the hinge. 

“Uh, what for?”

“For stranding us. You know, making us make up.” Kie softly grinned as you stood next to her. 

“Seriously Pope, you’re like the super glue for this group.” You complimented. “What makes you think that was me?”

Before Kie could respond, lines full of lights turned on, confusing the trio. A loud buzzing sound leading them towards the backyard.

“What the hell?” 

You guys walked into the area, colored and festive lights hung everywhere. Inflatable palm trees chilled in the corner. JJ sat in a shiny new hot tub, popping a bottle of champagne open.

“JJ?” you asked as you walked up to the front of the hot tub. “What did you do, JJ” Pope asked in disbelief. 

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me? Salud!” JJ cheered to no one as he poured out a glass, only to drink straight from the bottle.

“How much did this cost?” Pope asked, already knowing the answer.

“Uh… well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery… pretty much all of it, yeah.” JJ’s words were slurred, clearly intoxicated.

Pope's jaw fell open, “all of it?”

“Yeah, all of it.” JJ confirmed, pushing his sunglasses up. “You spent all the money in one day?”

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket. But I mean like, come one guys, like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me.” JJ grinned at his actions. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, watching him take another drink from the bottle.

JJ noticed the look on your face, "Y/N, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in his life? Come on,” he flung his sunglasses off, “all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’. I mean like… guys, we- you only live once, right? Enough of this emotional shit. Get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on.” 

“In the what?” Kie asked softly.

“In the Cat’s Ass. That’s what I named her.” JJ giggled to himself as he let the jets hit the back of his muscles. 

“Oh, hey, yo, I almost forgot.” He leaned over and pressed a button, a disco ball lighting up and spinning around.

“Yeah, that’s right, I know. Disco mode. That’s right baby!” He cheered in excitement.

“Are you kidding me? You could have paid for restitution!” Pope raised his voice. “Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie snapped. “Guys…” You started, seeing the pain in JJ’s eyes. 

“Or better yet you could’ve helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!” Pope continued as JJ rubbed his eyes.

“Okay well you know what? I didn’t do that.” JJ yelled back as he stood up from his spot, revealing the new red and purple marks that littered his chest. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands.

“I got a hot tub! For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No, screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family!” JJ cried out, his voice wavering. “I got this for you.” He pointed to the champagne bottle that was already half empty.

Your eyes welled up with tears, noticing just how broken JJ Maybank was. “Guys, look what I did for you! Alright? Look at this!”

“JJ…” your voice cracked, “no, you, you both stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?”

You marched up the steps of the hot tub, stopping at the first step, “come on Y/N, just get in.” You pulled the boy into your arms as you both cried against each other. His head rested on your stomach as you leaned your head down to rest on top of his.

“I just couldn’t do it.” JJ sobbed, his body shaking from the pain. He tightened his grip around your waist as you held him in your arms. One hand rubbed his shoulder while the other softly held onto the back of his head. 

“I can’t take him anymore!” He screamed into your chest, “I was gonna kill him.” 

“It’s okay baby, I got you. You’re safe with us.” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Kie and Pope joined you on the steps, wrapping the boy in a group hug. “I just wanna do the right thing.” He admitted, letting out a heartbreaking sob.

“We know.” Kie reassured him, “we know.”

One by one the friends let go of him, "you guys can finish up whatever you were doing, I'll take care of him." JJ refused to let go of your waist as your fingers softly rubbed his scalp.

'I got this.' You mouthed, your friends nodding their heads in acknowledgment. The two walked away to continue their plans, you slowly lifted JJ's head up to look at you.

"Hey JJ, let's get you out of here, is that okay?" You spoke softly. He nodded his head, slowly releasing you. You held his hand as you eased him out of the hot tub and down the steps.

"Stay right here, I'm gonna grab a towel." JJ muttered a gentle 'okay'. Sniffing to clear his sinuses. Running inside the house, you yanked a towel off the bathroom rack and headed back outside.

You wrapped it around his waist before leading him inside by his hand. Entering the bedroom, you picked out a pair of boxers and shorts for him to change into. "Do you think you can change into this without my help?" You asked him, holding out the clothes.

JJ nodded his head as he stumbled across the hall into the bathroom. You stood on the outside of the door, harshly biting down on your tongue. You've never seen JJ so broken, so hurt, and you wished you had known he was dealing with this.

You felt guilt and anger for not knowing about this sooner. Whenever JJ appeared with a new bruise or cut, he always told her that he got into a brawl with a Kook. He lied to you for 7 years, you never caught on which killed you on the inside.

After a few minutes, JJ opened the door with the towel in his hands, and changed into dry clothes. "Can we go lay down?" He questioned, his words still slurred. "Yeah, of course hunny."

He walked into the bedroom and sighed. Without thinking he plopped himself onto the bed, letting out a cry of pain as the bed hit his bruises.

Biting your bottom lip you asked, "do you want me to get you an ice pack?" He nodded his head, resting his hands on his eyes. Heading into the kitchen, you grabbed an ice tray, dumping some ice cubes out into a ziplock bag.

You walked back into the room, shutting the door quietly. JJ praised you as you handed him the bag of ice. He placed it on the biggest bruise he had. "Can you- can you stay with me? And play with my hair because honestly it makes me feel safe." He admitted, not even processing what he was saying.

You sat down next to him, allowing him to rest his head in your lap. Your fingers found your way to his hair, letting them run through and massage his scalp. You sat in silence before he spoke up. "I really, really like you Y/N. Like Really." He emphasized the final 'really'.

"I really, really like you too JJ." You spoke the truth. "You know, these last few days have been crazy as fuck. You know you've been there. But the amount of times I almost lost you scared the shit out of me." He confessed, his hand reaching up to place itself on your leg.

"And-and when we almost got shot at Crains, my soul nearly left my body. I want to keep you safe." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you listened to his words.

"But I'm a fuck up and I don't wanna ruin your life. I mean my own dad doesn't want me, why would you?" His voice cracked. You reached your hand down towards his face to make him look at you.

"Hey, don't say that JJ. You have made my life so much better in every single way possible. You show you care about me. You let me smoke with you so we both forget about our problems together. You taught me more shit about fishing than I knew. You can call me the worst names possible, but it doesn't bother me because I do the same to you. It scares me how much I like you because in a snap you could be gone. Hell, when you got arrested I couldn't sleep the night of." You rambled on, realizing that maybe you had more than a silly crush on him. 

"You're cute when you ramble." He muttered, grinning at the sound of your laugh, yawning loudly afterwards. "You ready to sleep hun?" You asked, a nod answering the question. You shifted a bit, laying down as he rested his head on your chest. You kissed the side of his head, feeling his arm around your waist slowly tighten its grip.

______________♡_____________

You woke up, and checked the clock reading the time, '9:36'. Turning your head, you saw JJ still passed out, his snoring filling the room. Carefully getting out of the bed, you walked outside into the backyard and headed straight to the hammock. 

You sat alone peacefully, the smell of the waters filled the air, the sounds of birds chirping softly echoed, and the feeling of a cool breeze skimmed your tan skin, sunglasses covering your eyes from the sun. Footsteps came up from behind you, a figure plopped itself down next to you.

A groan emitted from JJ's mouth, shutting his eyes from the blinding sunlight. "How's the hangover?" You asked, handing over the sun glasses. "Feels like I have forks jammed in my head. Thanks." He grabbed the sunglasses, quickly putting them on.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" You asked, fiddling with your thumbs. "Uhhh, I remember almost falling into the bathtub when I was changing. And then- oh..." he trailed off remembering parts of the conversation you had.

The two sat in silence again as JJ rested his hand on your thigh. "I wish I could've stopped that from happening." You broke the silence, your voice wavering at the image in your head of his bruises.

JJ shook his head, "No, no you-you do enough for me. I feel like I don't deserve you." He whispered the last part. Your heart clenched at his confession. "JJ, you are the best part of my life." Your hand cupped his, looking at the boy who lifted up the sunglasses.

"I want to be able to take you on dates and treat you like a princess and buy you everything you could ever want. But I'm a Pogue, that could never happen." He clenched his jaw, knowing deep down you deserve someone who could give you anything you wanted.

"JJ, I'm literally a Pogue too. I don't care if you don't have money because guess what? I don't either. That doesn't change the fact that I love you. Just being with you makes me feel safe."

JJ's mouth slightly fell open, allowing those three words to sink in. You realized what you had said before it was too late. Your facial expressions matched his as you quickly looked down at your hands. They sat there, trying to process the words you just said.

Stress flooded through your body as you waited for his response, only to continue to sit in silence. "I know that was just kinda thrown at you but please just be my best friend right now and not the guy I just confessed my love to." You spoke up, killing the silence.

"I don't want to be your best friend." He started, instantly making your heart drop into your stomach. "What?" You whispered, continuing to crack your knuckles.

"I don't want to be your best friend. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to take you out on dates. I want to do those weird face masks with you. I want to do any cliché shit you want to do. I want to do anything and everything with you. I want you to be my girlfriend so whenever we go to parties I can be like, 'this is my girlfriend' and show you off. I want more than just being best friends." He said, reaching over with his hand to hold the bottom of your chin.

JJ looked down at your lips before glancing back up to your eyes. Your heart rate picked up, "kiss me." You assured him, turning to face him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you both leaned in, connecting your lips gently. JJ grinned into the passionate kiss, not being able to handle the butterflies in his stomach. 

You pulled back to catch your breaths, resting your foreheads against each other before you returned to your original position. He slung his arm around your shoulder, leaving you space to rest your head on his chest. You beamed as he used his index finger to rub up and down on your arm.

"Remember back in freshman year during homecoming, I asked you to dance with me to 'The Night We Met'?" JJ tilted his head down towards you, locking eyes. You nodded your head in response. "John B and Pope hyped me up for at least an hour to encourage me to ask you. And when you had your head on my chest and I just held you, it felt like we were the only two people alive. And I loved that feeling, I don't want it to ever go away." 

Your smile got wider, remembering the moment as if it were yesterday. "It won't." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before falling back into a comfortable silence.

"Just making sure... we are dating right?" JJ spoke up earning a chuckle from you. "Yes. Yes we are."

[nukenai]

I keep thinking about that post about Billie Eilish that was basically... implying she was incredibly wealthy for being able to afford occasional horseback riding lessons, and making fun of her for being depressed when they had periods where they couldn't afford it.

It speaks to 2 really weird things: the consideration of anyone who can afford luxuries as "the enemy" level of rich on par with Jeff Fucking Bezos, and also that people who have no experience with horse things have no idea that not all horse things are prohibitively expensive.

Owning a horse might be! That's why I didn't own one for a long time. But also, horses don't by default cost $10,000 with nearly that much in monthly costs. For total transparency, Rain cost me $500 and Rogue cost me $250. Horse prices are high right now and fluctuate like anything else.

When I was taking lessons, they were $40 per lesson and I'd get them weekly. Sometimes less! I think people assume all horse lessons are gonna be $200 per lesson and are always for high level jumping or some shit. That's... not reality!

I guess it frustrates me because these sorts of people will jump down the throat of a 19(?) year old successful music artist who DARES who have had an activity she enjoyed as a kid that cost money, but these are also the people saying over and over "poor people deserve luxuries" (which of course they do), and I wouldn't doubt that the angriest of these people wouldn't hesitate to make a fucking GoFundMe to buy a PS5 or whatever new video game is coming out.

It just ultra pisses me off in particular because I grew up in a single parent household, extremely not rich and sometimes money was tight. But my mom spent money on us for things we WANTED, not just tons of new clothes, etc.

I'll fully acknowledge I'm in a place of slight privilege in terms of finances, but nothing annoys me more than people thinking I'm anywhere near lavishly wealthy because I own horses. And that absolutely shouldn't be assumed of someone who just took fucking lessons. There are legit concerns with equestrian sports being prohibitively expensive, but I really don't ever see the same kind of outrage for literally any other sport where you have to pay for club fees, equipment, gas to get to practice and games, etc.

For the record, not a single person at the barn where I board my horses could be remotely considered "wealthy". Many people work at the barn to work off board. The owner isn't even remotely wealthy and is open with us about struggles and rising costs (hay prices are always going up).

So just, idk, re-evaluate yourselves please. Yes it's a luxury to have horses or even take lessons, but like literally anything outside of having a roof over your head with food and water is a luxury so maybe stop trying to make enemies out of anyone who has slightly more money than you in some cases.

[techgoddessdeluxe18]

Tik Tok Couples Challenges -  Sidgeno Version

So one can assume Sidney “what is a smartphone” Crosby has stayed far FAR away from social media and the like.

HOWEVER

A 4 hour binge on Tik Tok watching the really adorable couples challenges has led me down this rabbit hole. Lets just imagine, maybe Sid and Geno are retired and happy, maybe they’re just secretly doing these videos and never posting them, but something along those lines. 

Most of these will be from Geno, some will be from Sid. Geno seems like the type to do these over the top funny ones, but like Sid does the secret sexy ones.

Full name (Geno Cam)

“Sidney, grab me apple juice please!” Geno plaintively yells from the living room, the camera pointed at the arch to the kitchen.

“Sidney?” An adorable, sleepy bleary, fluffy hair, but ultimately confused head pokes out. The tone of his voice sounds a little worried, perhaps a little upset. The glass of aforementioned juice hovers just out of sight.

“Did I do something wrong?” Sid says, as he slowly strolls over to his boyfriend, who is trying not to burst out in guffaws.

“You’ve go so many nicknames for me - baby, sweetheart, lyubov, Sidka, Sidnushka. Did I do something wrong?” Sid is working himself to being properly upset now, a solid pout pursing his lips.

Geno can only give up the farce and kiss the pout sweetly off of his husbands face.

OR ALTERNATIVELY

“SID. You never call Evgeni. WHat did i doooo??? WHy not Zhenya? No Geno? G? Darling? Siiiiiddddd what i doooo???”

Wrestling (Sid Cam)

No dialogue, only the music playing in the video

The camera is angled to catch the bed, Sid with his back to the phone and Geno closest to the bed. Sid gently pushed Geno onto the bed. Theres the beginnings of a questioning look and a grin on Genos face as Sid crawls up over him on his knees, all sexy like and such.

The grin disappears very quickly when Sid moves to get a leg under him, stand up, smack his elbow, and fucking launch his 200 lb self in a flying wrestling move onto Geno.

I wanna dance with some body (Geno Cam)

Geno is coming back from a early morning grocery run on a weekend. When he pulls into the drive way, he can hear strains of I wanna dance with some body coming from inside the house. He can only whip out his phone for posterity reasons. 

Opening the door, the only thing he sees is his dork of a husband dancing by himself in the foyer, bobbing his head and prancing around until he turns around and realizes he’s been caught, where therein he stops and starts begging Geno to stop filming, giggling all the while

Thanks For Cleaning My Seat (Sid Cam)

Theres really no prelude to it. Sid simply walks up to Geno with a baby wipe in hand.

“Here, wipe your face” Sid says.

“Why?” Geno asks, a dubious look on his face as he slowly starts swiping bits of his face; the tip of his nose, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth.

“Just wipe your face” Sid orders.

“Is dirty or something?” Geno questions, doing what Sid requests, really wiping everything down.

“Thanks for cleaning my seat” Sid drawls. 

“Ooh” 

The camera shows the quick withdrawal as Geno hustles after Sid to the bedroom.

Dropping towel (Geno Cam)

The camera is aimed in the froward position, watching Geno walk into Sid’s study, where he sits squinting at his laptop, working on something for his hockey school, maybe on a video chat.

Geno simply throws his towel off and onto the floor in front of Sid.

Geno laughs out loud at the incredulous look on Sid’s face, as he squeaks and turns violently red, quickly slams his laptop shut. Geno then has to spring away from his livid but aroused husband.

Texting something dirty in public (Sid Cam)

They’re in the locker room, maybe Sid was out IR, some menial injury. They had won that night, another complete shutout for Flower, so everyone was is high spirits.

Filming, Sid texts Geno “Baby, I want you to fuck me so hard they have to extend my return to play deadline”.

Sid can only muffle his laughter into his sleeve as he watches Geno pick up his phone, open the message, and see his eyebrows shoot up so they they nearly disappear into his hairline. He actually starts laughing out loud with his awful goose laughter as Geno catches the camera and starts wiggling his eyebrows and blowing loud wet kisses.

Everyone else is delighted and completely disgusted by this locker room romance.

Let me sit this ass on you

Ok this ones really hard to describe, but Sid sets up the camera on the ground, him in the foreground and Geno in the background on the couch watching something on TV. The song is Let me sit this ass on you and Sid starts on his knees and then does a really seductive slide to his hands, his big ass up in the air, back arched deeply. And on the On You bit, he bops his hips on the ground in time to the music, and sits back up to catch Genos expression.

Geno has meanwhile went from watching the TV to watching the glory that is his husbands ass do a sexy dance in front of him, and cannot close his mouth for how much his jaw dropped.

Suffocated between thighs

“Sidkaaaa, want to go bedddd” Geno moans, head tucked tightly between Sid’s thighs as they lay on the couch.

“Im not ready to go to bed” Sid giggles, tightening his grip on his husband until he groans. 

The video cuts to Geno generally being squished between the luxurious muscle, managing to wriggle his head around and under a knee, gasping dramatically for air as Sid laughs.

[jasons-exposedspine]

Prompt list

hey guys so my best friend and i made a long ass prompt list. the rules are that you can only pick a limit of five prompts and send them to me with a ship and OC of mine. like for example Reagan and Negan or Clem and Cas or Destiel or Willow and sam or Laylahni and Dean. i only write for supernatural and the walking dead. so get as creative as you want but i know no one will read this post so if you are reading this please send in a request i am really fucking desperate.

1: Hand holding

2: Hair playing

3: Lap sitting

4: “Friends”

5: Tickling

6: Dancing

7: Cuddling

8: Hugging

9: Character death 

10: Resurrection

11: Date

12: Valentines Day

13: Admitting their feelings

14: Piggy back ride

15: Swimming

16: Teleporting to a different place

17: Carrying the other

18: Sad

19: Comforting them

20: Making out

21: Pulling down by tie, bandana, etc and kissing them

22: Being protective

23: Dying for the other; sacrifice

24: Getting drunk

25: Snuggling

26: Wrapping their arms around the other from behind

27: Cheek kissing

28: Forehead kissing

29: First experience in the love department

30: Yelling at them for not being more careful

31: Showering/bathing together

32: Picnic

33: Cooking

34: Licking food off the other

35: Going on a hunt/run together.

36: Tracing their face

37: Wearing the other’s clothes

38: Braiding their hair

39: Teaching them about feelings

40: Teaching them other things (wink wink)

41: Argument

42: Comforting them after an anxiety/panic attack

43: making them happy when they are down

44: Calming them/sleeping with them after a nightmare

45: Putting their head on the other’s shoulder

46: Treating an injury/kissing their boo boos better

47: Food fight

48: Forehead touching

49: Nose touching

50: Guess who

51: Chin resting on top of head

52: Sleeping on the others’ chest

53: Intense eye contact

54: Being caught staring

55: Playing with their hands

56: Telling them what’s wrong

57: They have to leave to keep them safe

58: Break up

59: Getting back together

60: Pregnancy

61: Miscarriage

62: Normal Birth

63: Marriage

64: Fixing their clothes/hair

65: Driving together in a car

66: In the backseat (wink wink)

67: Snuggling In the backseat

68: Resting their hand on the other’s thigh

69: Sex

70: Watching movies together

71: Cinema

72: Height Difference

73: Annoying each other

74: Stargazing

75. Waking up to them

76. Shelter from the rain

77: ice cream

78: being rescued/saved

79: listening to music together

80: texting

81: falling asleep on the other

82: accidentally kiss

83: being badass together

84: lOsT iN tHe wOoDs!!

85: camping

86: spooning

87: huddling for warmth

88: first kiss

89: first meet

90: one looking schmexy and the other being attracted

91: lip biting

92: wearing the other’s accessories; glasses, jacket, tie, hat, etc.

93: annoying them at work/while they are trying to work

94: making stupid videos together

95: keeping their relationship a secret from other people

96: nearly revealing their relationship in front of other people

97: coming out (if it’s gay)

98: playing with a pet (if they have one). (if they don’t, some other animal)

99: They are forced to be enemies even though they love each other. This could be in a war or sided scenario. Usually a forbidden love. They could also be together in secret. Take Romeo and Juliet for example.

100: corona edition - quarantining together

101: luxurious holiday

102: stuck somewhere together, whether that be locked in a room or lost somewhere, etc.

103: beach

104: watching the other sleep/sneak up on them sleeping

105: backstory

106: childhood friends

107: au

108: crossover

109: SIMPing over them

110: love triangle

111: third wheel

112: having a dream about the other person

113: unbuttoning the other person’s shirt/taking the other person’s clothes off

114: hotel

115: board games/video games

116: chucking paint at each other

117: cheating

118: being annoying and stopping the other person from walking by sitting on their feet and holding onto their legs

119: secret admirer/love letters

120: making hearts with their hands

121: taking selfies

122: singing/playing a song for them

123: Falling asleep on them on a bus, train, plane, etc.

124: Growing old together

125: Widowed

126: Arranged marriage

127: Forbidden love

128: Sitting over the other’s dead body

129: being walked in on doing you know what

130: family’s reaction to the relationship

131: Living together

132: Having a family

133: Senpai/notice me senpai!

134: crush

135: showing off for their crush

136: rejection

137: first date (awkward)

138: first date (normal)

139: painting on each other (for a date night)

140: flirting

141: cringey pickup line

142: Pinning them against a wall

143: sneaking in bed with them when they’re asleep

144: laughing really hard together

145: Under the other’s wings

146: underwater kissing

147: accidentally fall on each other

148: only one bed

149: kissing their neck

150: being awkward around their crush

151: Rich couple

152: Playing in the rain

153: Summer

154: Autumn

155: Winter

156: Spring

157: Walk in the park

158: walking them home

159: Other people/characters also shipping them

160: The cute neighbour

161: putting their hand under the other person’s shirt

162: telling them a story/bedtime story. (If they have a child, that makes it even better!)

163: needy

164: clingy

165: intimate

166: touchy/fondling

167: putting their leg on the other person’s leg when sleeping

168: accidentally falling off the edge of the bed/accidentally pushing the other person off the edge of the bed

167: blanket hogging

168: freezing when they see their crush

169: running away/fleeing when they see their crush

170: surprising/scaring them

171: snow

172: watching fireworks

173: comforting them during a storm

174: divorce

175: homosexual (gay, lesbian, etc.)

176: heterosexual (straight)

177: poly (3+ people)

178: one of them getting an award or something and the other cheering them on and embarrassing them

179: somehow ending up with someone who is way out of their league

180: travelling together

181: weekend of romance

182: act like they hate them but they actually like them, switch between emotions frequently (tsundere)

183: will kill or harm others for their senpai (yandere)

184: ignoring the other person

185: one not messaging the other back

186: pash

187: enemies to lovers

188: friends to lovers

189: watching the other undress

190: soulmates

191: phone call

192: prom/dance

193: highschool

194: riding on bikes (usually as kids)

195: proposal

196: teasing the other

197: watching the sunset/sunrise

198: morning jog/walk

199: waking up but they’re not there

200: waking up to the other one making breakfast

201: sneaking into their house in the middle of the night

202: partners in crime

203: ex lovers

204: crushing on friend’s sibling

205: letting them stay the night

206: accidentally in love

207: coffee shop au

208: when their parents aren’t home...

209: sitting next to them with their arm around the their waist

210: telling secrets

211: fireplace

212: sitting on the floor

213: study buddies

214: flying

215: sitting on the porch

216: see the other naked for the first time

217: double date

218: their crush is upper class but they are lower class or vice versa. eg. rich vs poor, popular vs unpopular, higher social status vs lower social status.

219: One is mature and the other is childish

220: 2 brain cells/both idiots

221: lipstick stains

222: helping the other up

223: Deep conversation

224: meet at a bar/club/pub

225: asking them out

226: being teased by their friend(s) about their crush

227: telling their friend(s) about their crush

228: mistletoe

229: virgin/losing virginity

230: screaming into their chest

231: hand brushing against the other’s

232: soulmates walking past each other in public not yet knowing the other person but still getting some sort of gut feeling.

233: asking if they’re ok

234: handsome stranger

235: a description of the character’s features

236: their scent lingering

237: arriving at their doorstep

238: sleeping on the couch

239: hot night

240: cold night

241: sweaty

242: missing the other person

243: seeing them depart/saying their goodbyes (usually if they’re leaving for a trip for a while)

244: seeing them again for the first time (usually after they arrive back after a trip after not seeing them for a while)

245: looking back after departing

246: not even knowing their name/don’t remember them properly (usually falling in love with a stranger)

247: I kissed a girl (gay)

248: I kissed a boy (gay)

249: the person they like isn’t gay

250: husband energy

251: mum and dad energy

252: wife energy

253: liking a bad boy

254: liking a more mature boy

255: diving off cliffs/waterfalls

256: Comforting the other one when they’re scared

257: hushing them to sleep

258: singing them a lullaby

259: adopting

260: surrogate

261: painting their nails, pamper treatment, etc.

262: posing for photos

263: eating spaghetti together (Lady and the Tramp style)

264: being protective when someone starts SIMPing over their lover

265: holding them tight

266: swears they saw their ex in public but it wasn’t them...

267: sleepover

268: flirtatious bartender

269: helping them

270: stumbling over their words

271: walking in on them showering

272: looking them up and down/checking them out

273: being competitive/friendly rivals dynamic

274: meeting them through social media first

275: tinder/online dating

276: daydreaming about the other person

277: one of them is sick/in hospital

278: doing something embarrassing in front of their crush

279: horseback riding

280: hammock

281: boat

282: taking them to and showing them a place that is special to them

283: dirty jokes

284: making them laugh

285: getting into a fight with each other

286: protecting the other in a fight/from getting into a fight

287: masquerade ball

288: love spell/something or someone casting love spells on people aka Cupid

289: he/she loves me, he/she loves me not...

290: whispering in their ear

291: sitting on top of the car in a field

292: if a character wears some sort of mask/something that covers their mouth/face make the other character pull down/lift it up to kiss them

293: give each other pet names (baby, babe, honey, etc) (be as creative as you want)

294: biting the other’s lip when kissing

295: buying the other flowers/a gift

296: road trip

297: friendzoning

298: Gender Bend

299: saying “I love you” for the first time

300: toxic relationship (physical abuse, mental abuse, cheating constantly, don't love them anymore) be as creative as you want.

@negan-morningstar @savedpeople @you-a-southpaw-doll @smcc212 @gabrielislovegabrielislife @galaxycastiel @winchester-reload @impala-dreamer

[rukia-writes]

HI!!! Please, please, can you give me a litlle more headcanons about the sugar daddy Erwin please 🥺? (SFW/NSFW) thank you for your Time !

I can’t say no to a Erwin request😍. So here we go✨✨✨

✨Sugar daddy Erwin x College student Reader✨

✨(AU)✨

✨Part 2✨

✨Rated: Mature✨

✨SFW:

📚Erwin maybe a very busy man but I can assure you he’ll remember everything about his sugar baby or even his friends. The sugar baby shouldn’t be surprised to find something that you like on the kitchen counter.

📚Tuition? Paid ✅ You need books? Paid✅ You want a car so you can get Starbucks that is across town? Erwin buys you a luxury car that day puts way too much money in your bank account and tells you “Get whatever you like and get him a coffee as well.”✅

📚I will say this. Learn to cook. Please. You’ll really have Erwin wrapped around your thighs finger.

📚Erwin also makes sure to take time off for dates. You want to go to a concert? Erwin is ready. Doesn’t matter who you wanna go see. AC/DC? Let’s rock! Front row seats to see Beyonce? Driver roll up the partition please. Erwin is down for whatever.

📚If his sugar baby can, convince him to go for a late night ride in one of his luxury cars; it’s totally worth it.

📚imagine a fast food drive thru is just minding their own business and all of a sudden a luxury car rolls up wanting two milkshakes and two cheeseburgers, then the cashier gets 200$ tip.

📚Homework is a struggle. Erwin helps you out he does, things just tend to sometimes go a different direction entirely. As to say, Erwin is explaining math to you and ya know...

“Okay, (Name) what’s the answer-“

“Achoo! Oh Erwin, I think I’m getting a cold. We should do my homework later ...and you can send me to bed...and we can cuddle.”

“...Sick? You’re sick? Well let’s get you to bed-Damn it (Name)! I’m not falling for that again.”

📚Caught.

📚(Name) activates sad eyes while batting those pretty eyelashes.

📚“I’m serious...Daddy.”

📚”...Well, your homework can wait. I don’t want you to get the flu or anything. Let’s get you in that bed.

📚It’s super effective!

✨NSFW:

📚I think we as a fandom all agree Erwin has a daddy kink, which is one way to get whatever you want IF Erwin ever says no to you.

📚Dirty talk; especially the sugar daddy and sugar baby talk. The sugar baby can get off on dirty talk alone with Erwin Smith.

📚Erwin has to be SO careful when you come to his work place to see him for anything. Levi nearly caught Erwin blowing your back out in his office.

📚Erwin has also tried to help you with homework while having his way with you. Erwin is giving you toe curling sex, he’ll ask you a math question, history question whatever and if you answer wrong he’ll spank you hard, tell you to thank him, and this repeats if you keep getting the question wrong. Answer right, and he rewards big time.

📚Erwin Smith likes lingerie on you no doubt, although short silk robes really gets this tall, sexy beast going. One time, you were really late for class cause Erwin saw you in one after you got out the shower and let’s just say you buy ten different colored silk robes that day.

📚If you decide to give him a naughty picture of yourself while he’s at work; Erwin is leaving his job and coming home to you. Point blank period.

📚Levi hates it because he knows you’ve done something to cause Erwin to leave work. Erwin never rarely just leaves; and leaves him with more work to do none the less.

📚”Where the fuck were you Erwin?”

📚 “I had to handle some business at the bank Levi.”

📚”That took fucking two hours?”

📚”Yeah, I had to give (Name) a big deposit.”

📚Levi blushes and leaves Erwin alone for the day.

✨Rukia-writes✨

[lostborderline]

7/11/20

It has been an extremely rough day. Ever since my last entry, things have went all downhill. Before, I had so much hope. I felt unstoppable. Like I had it all figured out. Why does the universe do this to me? I feel like I’m at the lowest point I could possibly go now.  The dealer denied my application to finance a car. Why? Because my debt to income is too high, yet, the only debt on my credit report are my student loans, which I don’t have to start paying back until 6 months after graduation which I am still in my literal second month of college. Every other place will deny me because of that, and every new dealership is going to require a down payment because of the monthly payments I want to do, such as $200 a month. I might as well just save up almost two thousand and get a used car off of Facebook Marketplace or craigslist. Save up a few hundred more for registration and insurance too. My problem is more than that though. There is exactly three weeks before my lease is up. I have so little time to decide whether I want to move or not. Even littler if I need to give my job a two week notice. I basically have until Friday to make up my mind. Everyone is rooting for me to make the move and leave with a new life. I am deathly afraid of change. One part of me wants to make things work with my boyfriend. He still can’t admit that he does wrong and things to hurt me, and still turns it back onto what I did. It’s truly disappointing, because with each comment it makes me want to leave even more, yet I don't at the same time. I still fucking love him as much as it hurts to say. I still long for his touch and cuddles. The warmth of his body against mine. The comfort of sleeping next to him at night. It truly hurts more than I could ever imagine. I just wish things never got to this point. I wish things were so much different.  The pros and cons of this situation definitely have balance. If I leave, I lose my job, I lose my privilege of a car to drive, I risk being jobless for an extended amount of time, I risk my bills not being paid, I may not be able to have as much freedom as I please, I may not be able to dye my hair the way I want due to rules, I’d have to walk everywhere again until I can afford to get a car of my own, I will be extremely homesick, I have to leave my family behind, it’s just a temporary home and I have to find another place in God knows when and the apartments are more expensive up there. If I leave, I can start a new life where I don’t know anybody, I have a better support system with my family being near, there are better job opportunities up there, I can take things slow with people and not be so serious, I can better my mental health. If I stay, I risk still being abused and things may never change, I still will be treated like shit at my current job, I will be constantly stressed as my borderline is constantly in full swing, there is nobody on my side and they’re all on his side. If I stay, I have access to a car when I need it, I have a full time job, I can pay my bills with ease and still be able to be impulsive even though I really shouldn’t be, I have my own place on my own, I have luxury items here that we both own.  I am extremely torn between this huge decision. I want to be able to live my life with ease, as I do now, just without stress, without the verbal and sometimes physical abuse. I need change to happen. I don’t think he sees this as serious. He says he wants to work it out but how do I know he is telling the truth? Whenever I want to talk about it he gets mad and says that we have already talked about it when it was for like a minute and not in depth like it should for a decision like this. I want him to be able to realize that change needs to happen. He sees me sobbing and he just has irritation in his voice, annoyance, and carelessness. I am nearly tearing up as I type this, and it feels harder to swallow. I love him so much, but I also hate him so much. I just don’t know what to do. 

[tatooedlaura-blog]

20 Questions

My Lord, I am rusty at this … been too long without words …

Not part of the Life series … but just something to get me writing again …

**hugs to all**

&&&&&&&&&

&&&&&&&&&

Six beers apiece, three frozen pizzas, a gallon of ice tea, a knockdown, drag-out argument complete with yelling, swearing, file throwing and roughly 12 hours later …

Snow.

Piled up to the top of the parking meter; deep, heavy, wet, sloppy, icing over snow.

All viewed by a sleepy, blinking Scully who had the minor deluded idea of getting home that night but then a draft wafted over her stocking feet and any idea of leaving evaporated in a heartbeat. Turning around, she debated going in to tell him she was staying but clock glowing 1:43am made her stay quiet and think about going back to sleep.

Problem was, she had been off the buttery, broken in couch just a hair too long and now the leather was frigidly cold, seeping immediately into her soul and making her stand before she fully understood she’d been sitting. Muttering a ‘damn it’, she grabbed an afghan, wrapped it tight and wondered where the thermostat was.

Oddly, it wasn’t in the living room, kitchen or hall, so she headed, sock-shuffle-slide, into the bedroom. It was dark in there, warmer than the living room and without the drafts. She debated whether to wake him up to kick him out of the large bed but given she was a semi-decent person, regardless of freezing status, she finally found the thermostat on the wall beside the door. Touching a button lit the panel up and the voice from the dark made her jump, “you cold?”

Keeping the whisper status of the two-word conversation, “I won’t be once I crank this bad boy up to 80.”

“Won’t help. It never gets above 70 with that thing, regardless of what I set it at.”

Turning towards the voice, her face still bathed in electric blue, profile perfection, mouth half-twisted in shivering debate, “then you either need to move over so I can share or help me dig out my car from the snowpocalypse that occurred after we fell asleep.”

With a ‘pshhht, no way in Hell’ noise, “I am not moving from under these covers so go grab the rest of the blankets off the couch and get in here but so help me God, those feet touch me and I’ll shove you right back out.”

“I love you, too, Mulder.” She went and gathered her armful then crawling under upheld covers, complained in a hissing breath, “it’s just as fucking cold here as the couch was.”

“Jack Frost has made you mouthy.”

Quaking as she spread the blankets over the pair of them, mostly her, well, all over her really because he was already warm and whatever, she couldn’t feel anything below elbows and knees, “two feet of snow, Mulder, while we slept. While you let me sleep. While you went to bed and left me to ice over out there in the living room.”

“In all seriousness, If I had woken you up, you’d have bitten me.”

Her embarrassment nearly warmed her cheeks but not quite, “that’s a very good point, although it would have been very nice to be wearing my pajamas instead of jeans.”

Searching the dark, he poked her cheek, “cranky pants, go to sleep.”

Not warming yet but decidedly on the better side of frozen solid, she moved her foot until it found his leg, “I’m not cranky.”

“Remember I said I’d kick you out of bed if you touched me.”

Turning on her side, facing away, she grinned into the pillow as her muscles unclenched, “like you’d ever kick me out of anything.”

“Very true.” Debating for a moment, “do you want some pajamas?”

“I’ll get them if I need them.”

&&&&&&&&&

“Mulder?”

“Go to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can. Shut your eyes and stop thinking.”

To relieve her aching shoulder, she rolled to her back, keeping everything from the bottom of her nose down well under the covers, “we should play ’20 questions’.”

“I’m sleeping, Scully.”

“Your voice tells me otherwise. I can also deduce that you are very nearly as wide awake as I am.”

Mulder, awake mostly because she was within two feet of him, dipping his mattress and driving him mad with that warm Scully smell that wouldn’t stop invading his nose, his brain, his entire God-damned existence, gave in because … well … Scully ..., “animal, vegetable or mineral?”

Next she traveled to her other side, facing him, for the sole purpose of being able to pull the covers over her head as well, warming ears and crown without suffocating in the luxury, “mineral.”

“Of course science-girl picks mineral.”

Wiggling one last time to get properly settled in her concave cocoon, “I’ll give you a hint. It’s clear.”

“Water.”

Hand across sheets for a brief moment, she tweaked his nose, “you’re cold. Get further under and no, it’s not water.”

He buried his head to mirror her, flipping to look at her, “tell me if I reek of beer and garlic, please.”

Because she was his friend and had been for the better part of 200 years, she sniffed and approved, “you’re good.”

“Go me. Anyways, is it shiny?”

“After it’s polished.”

“Is it colored?”

“I just said it was clear.”

“Hey, detail-oriented individuals such as myself know that something can be colored and clear at the same time. See through anyways. I can see the world through a pair of rose-colored glasses or some shit like that.”

This time, she waited until he’d tucked the fringe from one of the wayward afghans away from her forehead, “touche, Mr. Mulder. It is both clear and uncolored.”

He could get to like this nonsense at 3am, “is it rare or common?”

“Common for certain occasions but rare in relation to grains of sand on Earth or stars in the heavens.” He stared at her for so long after this, she began to wonder if he’d frozen solid or died on the spot, eyes still open and studying, “what? Already run out of questions?”

Game forgotten and unmissed, “I love when that poet trapped inside you gets to come out and see the world, even if just for a few moments at a time.”

“It’s not poetry, Mulder, it’s just a description to the question you asked.”

Darkness softened the walls between them faster than any alcohol could, “don’t be flippant about it. Poetry is beautiful and so are you and when you say things like that, I’m surprised I can still remember that we probably shouldn’t be sharing a bed.”

Her previous blush had nothing on this one, toes suddenly on fire, but she held his gaze, “I don’t want to go back to the couch though.”

“Then I should tell you your mineral is diamond and that we should try to go back to sleep.”

“But then you’ll win the game.”

The things he shouldn’t say this late at night were alphabetized, categorized and easily accessible to his lightning fast mind but who really gave a shit when they were snowed in bed with no hope of anyone but Scully’s God and possibly three or four dust bunnies hearing him, “I won it a long time ago, Scully, you ought to know that by now.”

One foot drifted absently over to him, finding a flannel covered kneecap, “we were having a nice, innocent game of ’20 questions’, Mulder, remember that?”

“Not really and you know why?”

She wasn’t stupid, not in the slightest bit, and wondering if she could blame the following confessional already bubbling up her throat on the liquor she’d consumed seven hours ago, “because we’ve never done anything innocent in our lives when the lights are out and we have nowhere to go and no one is listening?”

“Because tonight you are a poet and I huddle at your feet in awe that you didn’t try to escape when you had the chance.”

“Like the choice ever occurred to me.” Her fingers, having shifted of their own accord, met his jaw, playing with the underside of stubbly chin, “we have a problem with the dark, you and I.”

“Not when we’re together in it, we don’t. In fact, it’s one of my favorite places to be with you.”

She watched him not-so subtly sliding towards her and instinct beat sense to fucking dust as she let him, “why?

He stopped a good six inches from her, bunches of blankets impeding his travels and she was glad to have the barrier, given her resistance had dialed down to nil, “because you are poetry in the dark.”

Shifting blankets out of the way, she sidled closer, closer, closer until she felt his arm slide over her back, “but you can’t see me in the dark.”

His hands itched to feel more, to know more but instead, he relaxed into her, “the feel of you is enough.”

“Sometimes I don’t think it is.” She let that hang over them, weighted world above, blankets around, heat between, “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make me leave this bed anytime soon, okay?”

He would have laughed had it not been such a serious question, requiring a well thought out, well-versed response, “if I could manage it, neither of us ever would.”

Her warm hands found his back, under his shirt, dipped in his spine, “I retract my statement … our problem isn’t the dark … our problem is thoughts in the dark.”

“Are your thoughts becoming a problem?”

Shivering despite the overwhelming warmth of her around him around her, “thoughts are always a problem.”

Hands under her shirt, finding the clasp on her bra and unfastening, “how the hell can you sleep in that thing?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think about it I guess.”

With a grin, he kissed her forehead, “exactly.”

The universe breathed deep with Scully shaking her head and shifting all the way under the covers, head and all, “back in a second.” There was some wicked wiggling and two grunts and one elbow in Mulder’s stomach but before he could smile again, she was back, whipping the bra across the room, “I hate that thing.”

“So do I.” The look he got did things, “now I can sleep in peace.”

“Have we moved on from poetry in the dark?”

Snuggling back into him, “I will not be held responsible for the compromising position we will find ourselves in in the morning as well as the compromising positions we go through to get there. Poetry in the dark writes itself sometimes without our knowing and I’m not going to fight it because in the morning, the curtains will still be closed and this room will still be dark and we will not have a damn thing to do or a damn place to go.”

“Why didn’t you take your shirt off along with the bra?”

“Because I’m suddenly very comfortable and a little bit tired.”

“You are very dangerous in the dark, Scully.”

“I’ll be more dangerous after I’ve had a nap.”

Letting his hands drift further down than normal, “do you remember who won the argument last night?”

“The dark doesn’t care, Mulder and neither do I.”

[mrs-captain-evans]

Blind Date - Chris Evans x Ofc

Summary: Melanie (ofc) has been set up on a blind date with Captain America himself, Chris Evans. How will it go? Pairing: Chris Evans x Ofc Word Count: 1841 Warnings: Fluffy

A/N: Today is my birthday! So to celebrate I have written this little piece which sprung from an idea due to a friends first (and awful!) date. Thank you @mycapt-ohcapt for once again being an amazing support. Forever grateful <3

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

This was the worst first date you’ve ever been on. Your best friend, Emily, set you up on a blind date with, what she described as, the perfect man who will make all your dreams come true. She gave you his number last week in case any plans change, but the only thing she told you was his name, Chris, nothing more. When you asked for his last name she said you’d bail if you knew who he was. You were sat at the 2 person table in a luxurious and exclusive restaurant in Boston fearful for your life. What if he was a serial killer? He didn’t sound creepy in his messages, but you still felt panicky.

The restaurant was far more expensive than your liking. Looking around at the other diners, feeling out of place, you couldn’t help but notice the time. He was 35 minutes late! If it wasn’t for the fact your glass of wine cost more than your weekly shop, you would of left 15 minutes ago.

Feeling frustrated and wanting to take your anger out on your best friend, you pulled out your phone to send her a text, ‘Ugh, he’s so late *rolling eye emoji* This is the last time you set me up, the fucker couldn’t even cancel himself. The waiters are giving me funny looks. You owe me big time for this!’

With a tight smile on your face, you looked towards the waiters, who were giving you a sympathetic look and asked for the check. Reluctantly paying for your drink, hoping your card didn’t decline, you thanked your server while vowing to never listen to your best friend again.

Standing up and downing the rest of your wine, you moved to leave, but a tall, muscular man with a full beard and a frantic look on his face caught your eye. The hostess pointed in your direction and the man politely nodded and turned in your direction striding towards the table. Reaching you, he apologised instantly “Oh god, I’m so sorry, my meeting overran, the traffic was terrible and I couldn’t find anywhere to park.”

Realising who your date was, you replied with a dazed edge to your voice, “That’s okay, I was just about to leave but I’m going to quickly use the restroom.” Before giving him a chance to reply, you rushed off in the other direction to compose yourself.

Chris Evans. Your date was Chris Evans. Captain America, Chris Evans. You couldn’t believe Emily, how could she? Not only was he the hottest bachelor in Boston, he was your celebrity crush. You were aware that Emily was distant friends with him but you never thought she’d actually set you up with the actor. You always knew that letting her plan the whole date was a bad idea, she picked the most over the top restaurant in Boston and now you were going to have to sit with the man, trying to act normal.

Heading back towards the table with a smile on your face, you noticed your wine glass was now full again and Chris sipped from a glass of his own, with the remaining bottle in a silver bucket to the right of him. As you approached the table to introduce yourself, Chris noticed you and awkwardly reached his hand out towards you, miss judging and knocking your glass over, tipping it straight onto your brand new, and expensive, dress.

“Shit! Fuck! Sorry.” Grabbing some napkins and passing them to you, he continued apologising, “I am so sorry, let me pay for the dry cleaning.”

Irritated at him for not only ruining your new $170 dress, but also being late, you couldn’t help your sarcastic response, “No point in dry cleaning, it’s ruined!” Looking up at him, seeing the sheepish look on his face, you couldn’t help but carry on, “I can’t just afford to spend nearly 200 dollars on a dress for it to be destroyed after wearing for an hour! This is the last time I ever let Emily interfere with my love life.”

“Look I am really sorry, I can’t apologise enough, I’m just- well I’m nervous.” Seeing him shifting on the spot, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, blushing, you felt bad for snapping at him.

“No I’m the one who should be sorry, I shouldn’t of snapped at you.” Still trying to wipe off as much as you can, you gave Chris a small smile, showing him he was forgiven.

Both of you sat back down and finally got onto the formal introductions, “I’m Chris Evans, the biggest and most awkward dork in Boston. Nice to meet you” He sent a wink your way.

Laughing at his humour, you flicked your hair over your shoulder, throwing him a cheeky smile, “Melanie Clarke, or Mel, the most wine drenched girl in Boston right now.”

“Yeah, I asked for that!” God, his laugh is infectious. You couldn’t help but look around the room in discomfort. This was not your kind of place, you’re a simple girl who loves a local and casual restaurant with home cooked food and doesn’t cost a months rent for a three course meal.

Noticing your uneasiness, Chris asked you if everything was okay. Wanting to be honest, you told him how you felt, “I’m not really a fancy kind of girl, I prefer little quaint, family run places. You know where the owners know your name and you can have a fulfilling meal surrounded by charm. Nothing that breaks the bank.” Seeing his embarrassed smile, you tried to make him feel a bit better, “Don’t get me wrong, this is a beautiful restaurant.”

“But..”

You looked into his eyes, shrugging slightly “It’s just not me.”

Seemingly delighted with your response, Chris let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god, I hate places like this. Do you wanna get out of here? I know a great pizza place”

“Yes please, I thought you’d never ask!”

Signalling for the check, Chris reaches into his pocket to pay the bill. Frantically searching through all his pockets, raising his voice slightly “Fuck! I cannot believe this.”

Surprised by his sudden outburst, you glanced at his annoyed face, “What’s up?”

Repeating his words and no doubt feeling mortified, “I cannot believe this! My earlier meeting overran and I left my house in such a rush to get here on time, that I forgot my wallet.” Shaking his head in disbelief, cursing at himself, “Chris you dick! And shit, you were late anyway! And now you’re cursing in front of a lady, fuck!”

As much as you enjoyed seeing him squirm in his seat, you felt a tiny bit sorry for the actor. You had a feeling he wasn’t always this horrendous at the dating scene, he did have a bachelor boy reputation after all.

The waiter comes over with the check and recognising the guilty look on his face, you reached into your purse and produced your credit card. “Don’t worry I’ll get this, a bottle of wine can’t be too expensive right?”

Wrong. As you studied at the bill you nearly choked on your own breath when you saw the figure at the bottom of the slip, $120. Trying not to look startled, you forced a smile the waiters way, hoping that your card didn’t decline. Thankfully the payment went through and you politely thanked the waiter.

Breaking the silence, Chris cleared his throat from across the table, and spoke to you in a timid voice, “All I seem to be saying to you is sorry, but I really do apologise, for everything.” Not wanting to be a bitch, you acknowledged him with a curt nod, trying not to let your anger boil over. “Please let me at least drive you home.”

“What and potentially get run over? No thank you. I’ll call a cab.” You exhaled loudly while pulling out your cell phone.

Just as you were about to dial the number, Chris’s small, gentle voice interrupted you. “I’ve really screwed this up haven’t I?” Closing your eyes for a brief second, you let his words and tone of voice sink in. Opening your eyes, you could see he was slumped in his chair, not making eye contact with you and looking very ashamed of himself.

“Sorry Chris, I just don’t think it was your day.” Feeling a bit guilty for barking at him a moment ago, you wanted to let him down gently.

He lifted his hopeful eyes, and while he stared into yours, asked “I’m guessing a second date isn’t on the cards?”

“I don’t know Chris.” Shrugging lightly, you couldn’t help but think this was all a big mistake.

With a smug smile on his face, and a knowing smirk, you suddenly felt on the spot, “Oh c’mon, please, I owe you big, remember?”

Confused at his question, you furrowed your eyebrows together not understanding him, “Huh?”

Grilling you further, “The ‘he’s late, what a fucker for not cancelling, you owe me big time’ text.”

Completely forgetting you had his number, texting him back only 5 hours ago confirming you were still on for this evening, you must of accidentally sent your message to him instead of Emily! Now you were the embarrassed one, “I umm- oh shit”

Chuckling lightly at you, “Looks like it’s not your day either.”

Mortified at making such a rookie mistake, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Nope, obviously not.” Your voice was tight and your breath was coming out in short bursts. Noticing Chris’s laughter you were pulled out of your near anxiety attack and couldn’t help but feel amused. This was definitely not the way you thought your evening would turn out, but as much of a catastrophe it was, you were happy you shared this awful experience with such a charming and humble man.

“Look, I know this evening hasn’t gone well. Actually it’s been a disaster, but I would love to see you again.” Pausing a little, he sent a wink your way, “Plus I owe you that pizza right?”

After a small debate in your head, you quickly decided to give him another shot. After all it was Emily who planned this outrageous dinner date. If you were both in a more comfortable environment then things, may perhaps, be more successful.

“Okay Evans, you’ve got yourself a second date….just.”

Smiling widely at you, he stood up, checked his watch, and held his hand out for you to follow his lead, “C’mon, it’s only 7.45pm, my condo isn’t too far from here, I can pick up my wallet and treat you to the best pizza in Boston. It’s the least I can do for being late, and ruining your dress. Oh and for making you pay for that ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine.”

Placing your hand into his, you both walked out of the restaurant feeling a lot more relaxed with big smiles on your faces.

“Just you wait until Emily hears about this!”

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Tag List: @mycapt-ohcapt @princess-evans-addict @gigglegirl77 @coffeebooksandfandom @the-sunshine-in-the-dark @loricameback

[katbot]

Baby’s First Dinner Date.

This week’s Thirsty Thursday contains a lot of first for a girl that’s been steadily dating for nearly eight months.  

This picks up the following weekend after my first date with J1. —-

It’s a tiring weekend for me. Early Saturday and I’ve already had my third cup of coffee. Work is in two hours and I’m slowly getting dressed.

My phone pings while I’m pulling up my leggings. It’s J1 giving me the address of tomorrow’s acoustic show. He’s been texting me regularly since Thursday.

Our date was fun. Meeting another native was a truly an new age experience. My friend Gabby has an intense desire to only ever date other natives. “Transplant don’t get our jokes. Our humour is different. More refined. More subtle.” I gotta admit. She’s right. I had been so entranced enough with the luxury of accents, I’ve been ignoring the native call My phone chimes again, and it’s J1 asking if I’d like to grab dinner before the show.

I’m jumping and squealing like an idiot when it suddenly dawns on me— I fucking hate eating dinner.

Organised meals are something I struggle with, my stomach is notoriously fickle. It’s hard to know when I’ll be hungry so preplanned seated meals are an activity I tend dodge.

But FUCK! I’m over the moon that he asked! I can’t say no without sounding like a lunatic. And the thought of spending more time together is wonderful.

We decide upon Korean BBQ at 6:30, and my anxiety increases— I’m imagining the pounds of meat that’ll be staring me down in less than twenty four hours.

“Sure! Sounds great!” I’m lying..but it’s coming from a sweet spot.

For the next twenty four hours, trying to will myself into extreme hunger. I ingest only gin and coffee.

Sunday

Twenty minutes from the restaurant I’m sweating. How can I still not be hungry. 

It’s like my stomach is being defiant out of spite.

Maybe I can say I have a surgery in the morning? Dental work? I’m allergic to Koreans? No-that’s just racist. Also, fuck I love Korean food.

“This is Barclays Center. Transfer is available to...”

Fuck me. I’m ten minutes from the restaurant when it finally happens. A pang of hunger hits me with sweet sweet relief. Thank you belly gods! J1 is standing in front of the restaurant, checking his watch. Neither of us texted this morning to confirm— oddly enough I love that it wasn’t necessary.

He looks relieved when I walk up. We exchange quick pecks on the cheek.

 I’ve learned a lot through this project— but how to greet a romantic prospect will always be an unsolved mystery.

The restaurant is packed. When we find out there is a thirty minute wait, I quickly opt for barside seats. The bar is more my aesthetic anyway. The lights are dimmer, there’s jazz playing and everything has a lush red hue. We end up getting a booth that’s way too big for just the two of us.

“So...” He’s in a plaid shirt, and dark jeans. Without his beanie, his hair is longer and a lot blonder than I remember. He has pale blue eyes that always seem to be smiling. And a husky beard that’s more invisible than blonde.

Our first few bits of conversation are rough We keep talking over each other. My stomach is closing in on itself and I’m sweating up a storm.

“Wait....Did you tell me that already... or?” “Were you the one that..?”

Our Thursday binge drinking has mutually affect our short term memory— Frustrated, I do two things that will always reign in my inner self.

Honesty and cocktails. “Iiii-ve got to admit. I’m pretty nervous right now and I’m hardly a nervous person.

He laughs and echos my sentiment. His voice is audible marshmallow fluff. When he offers me the cocktail menu, I know everything is going to be okay.

We split three appetisers, a suggestion from me, to hide my fickle stomach.

We get our first cocktails— me gin based - him bourbon, He walks them back to the table with extreme care. When I’m ready to order my second drink, he insist I put it on his tab. With food on the table and three drinks down, I begin to melt into my usual cool. We rehash details of the forgotten Thursday. Peppering in new details about our current life.

The more we talk, the more we remember just how much we have in common. Summers spent out on Long Beach with overlaps of the obscure underground scene. We reach the limit when it’s reveal we both have obsessions with tiki bars.

At 9, we begin to make our way to his friend’s show. When the bill comes, he tries to pay for it himself. It’s nearly 200 dollars. We argue about splitting until I put my foot down and sternly till him it’s not happening.

He agrees, only after adding that he’s doing it because I’m not really giving him a choice.

It makes me like him even more.

The show is across the street— and I feel stupid for stressing about the timing. The place is huge, A three person group is crowning out a light melody that immediately steals my heart.

I’m in awe. When the set ends, the girls next to me begin smiling at me and then beaming at J1. They have a quick conversation and he introduces me as his date. One of the girls points to another table of six people, I have an oh shit moment.

Oh he brought me to a friend FRIEND event. Holy shit. We grab seats and I’m round tabled introduced and desperately trying to remember everyone’s name. I’ve always considered myself a social butterfly, so this is a piece of cake. I quickly gain a rapport with A. 

She has a hearty laugh and killer eyeliner. She seems like someone I would be friends with. 

She invites me downstairs to grab drinks before the next set. Turns out we missed his friend’s set, who also happens to be her boyfriend. “No stress though, J texted— he said he was having so much fun with you, he didn’t want to leave yet.”

The bar is dark so I can hide my blush but the nervous laughter comes out clear as day. We order two pints of stout each and take them upstairs to our partners. The next set goes on, we shift our seats to the stage. It’s a guy who does a solo guitar set with sprinkles of comedy.

J is sitting in front of me. I’m staring at his long golden hair, and wondering how I feel about it. At one point he turns around only to make sure he’s not blocking my view. He smiles at me quickly before turning back to the stage. I like that he doesn’t feel the need to “babysit” me. It’s bold of him to have a second date that includes not only dinner but meeting all his friends. This guy is either crazy or has massive balls. After the show, J grabs a booth and his friends, A and her partner, N join us. The similarity between J and I continue to grow as his friends and I overlap in obscure ways.

“You went to that college? Oh my god I was planning on going there!” “You know what a theremin is? I have an autoharp!!” “You love vaporwave too?!” I end up having more of a conversation with his friends than him. It’s nearing midnight and I’m giddy. A is nearing drunk and the entire lot of us have work in eight hours. His friends say goodbye, and give me a legitimate: “It was very nice to meet you”

The bar rings for last call while we’re making out.

“I’m not ready to for this to be over....Do you want to head to another bar?”

He says it....THE BLESSED WORDS

We find a bar that’s still open, and head over, hand in hand. It takes long than expected because we keep stopping on the street like horny teenagers.

The bar is dead empty when we finally arrive. We grab pints and a couch in that’s hidden away enough that I don’t feel guilty about heavy petting in public

. I’m sitting on top of J, his hands are grasping my ass while I’m cupping his face.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” He whispers into my ear with a nibble. Ooof. I do. But it’s nearly 1am and I have a meeting in 7 hours and I’m 2 hours away from home.

He understands and we make plans for the following Saturday. A tiki bar crawl that ends in sex.

He’s laughing at my pre planning but excited. We end up staying another hour, and I’m glad my hand is not down J’s pants when the bartender comes round to tell us the back room is closing.

He calls an Uber, I decide to battle the subway.

The ride is long, but the butterflies keep me up all the way.

I send him a “Home” text and dream of blonde haired cherubs.

[afjakwritesarchive]

Can I request some vampire USUK with some sort of soulmates twist? Bonus if only Arthur is a vamp at the beginning!

Title: A Long WaitPairing: USUKWords: 2,817Rating: TAU: Vampire Arthur/Human AlfredGenre: RomanceSummary: Arthur Kirkland waited nearly 200 years to meet his soulmate. A/N: Thank you for the request my dear! I had a lot of fun with this one! :) Love me some vampire Arthur ;) 

Arthur Kirkland was 110 years old when his soulmate tattoo appeared. It had been a rainy day in London, and he was walking home from work. The year was 1949, and he’d pushed the sleeve of his suit jacket back in order to check the time at just the right moment. He’d watched the words in their black print as they wound around his wrist, one letter at a time. The first words his soulmate would ever speak to him.

His soulmate.

At the time, Arthur had been overcome with emotion. He’d dropped his umbrella and began to cry right there in the street, so overjoyed at the sight of the tattoo he’d missed ever since he’d been old enough to understand what it’s absence meant. He hadn’t cared what it had said. It wasn’t until later that day, when he’d calmed down enough to read the words on his wrist, that he’d become confused.

He’d immediately rushed to Francis, a vampire like him, but who was much older. Though Arthur wasn’t sure exactly how old Francis was as the man was a bit coy about his age, Arthur knew he was at least 400. He was sure that Francis would have a clue as to why his soulmate tattoo was finally revealing itself after over one hundred years of waiting, and he was right. Francis had explained that a soulmate tattoo wouldn’t appear until the birth of one’s soulmate was within the next fifty years. Being that Arthur’s had appeared on July the fourth of 1949, Arthur’s soulmate wouldn’t even be born until July 4th of 1999.

Though this had put a considerable damper on Arthur’s excitement, the simple notion that he actually had a soulmate was more than enough to permanently brighten his spirits. He’d walked with a new spring in his step for years after, and though he’d eventually calmed down, he couldn’t help but for his heart to flutter each time another July fourth passed.

When 1999 finally came, Arthur had thrown a party for the fourth of July. While he wasn’t all that patriotic, he’d moved to America three years prior and had a decent excuse to throw the party. Francis, who had accompanied Arthur to the states, had helped his friend and all of their guests to get far too drunk, and the celebration had lasted well into the wee hours. Arthur remembered standing on the roof of his small home, his arm slung across Francis’s shoulders as he shouted drunkenly to the neighborhood: “Happy birthday, my love!”, and Francis’ equally slurred echo: “Happy birthday, Arthur’s soulmate!”

Afterward, with each year that passed, Arthur had continued to celebrate his soulmate’s birthday, though more privately. No longer did he throw parties for the Fourth of July—rather, he bought some sort of ‘Fourth of July’ paraphernalia with the year on it, along with a bottle of wine and a candle, celebrating to himself. Each year, as he lit the candle, he’d smile at the flame and murmur into it: “Happy birthday, my love.”

The years had passed quickly. Currently, it was February of 2018—Arthur’s soulmate would be twenty years old in a matter of months. Arthur was growing increasingly excited to meet his soulmate with every passing day. Though there was a strong possibility that he wouldn’t meet his soulmate until he was older, Arthur had a feeling that he’d meet his soulmate while they were somewhat young. Arthur felt a bit guilty about that—though physically he was only twenty-four, in reality he was twenty years shy of two hundred, and he knew he wasn’t exactly the most “modern” of people. He had trouble with technology and new trends, preferring old fashioned things in many aspects of his life. He hoped his soulmate wouldn’t grow frustrated with him and his lack of connection to modern technology.

Presently, Arthur was seated in a coffee shop on the outskirts of the city he was currently living in. It was a small, secluded place the Brit had taken a particular liking to thanks to the extensive array of tea flavors they offered, created by the owner of the shop herself. Each cup was brewed with the utmost care by the employees, all family or friends of the elderly owner and her middle-aged son. It was a cozy, comfortable place which reminded Arthur of his own family, all of whom had long since passed away. His only living relative was an elder brother of his, also a vampire, whom Arthur had been estranged from for over a century.

Arthur stood to leave the small shop, leaving a few dollars on the table as he always did. He’d hardly taken a step away from the table when, to his great surprise, a large man suddenly walked directly into him. Arthur let out a cry of surprise and took a step back, his hands coming up to grip the man’s muscular biceps in the same moment. With the aid of his enhanced speed and strength, he reacted swiftly and easily caught the man before he could fall and take Arthur to the ground with him.

“Holy shit, dude, I’m so fucking sorry!” Cried a loud voice.

Arthur froze in his place with his pale hands still gripping the man tightly. He looked up, green eyes widened beyond belief, and gazed into the face of the man in front of him.

He was beautiful—even more beautiful than Arthur could have imagined. He was much taller than Arthur, at least a foot, and he looked down at the Brit with an apologetic, friendly smile. He had gorgeous, plush lips and tan skin dotted with faint freckles. His hair was a lovely golden color and contained one cowlick which stood stubbornly apart from the rest of his silky-looking strands. His eyes were a hypnotic, bright, beautiful blue which immediately pulled Arthur in and refused to let him go. Currently, they were filled with confusion at the Brit, who had said nothing and was still holding him.

“Hey, are you alri—”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” Arthur interrupted quickly, his voice coming out in a gasp due to the rush of emotions he was feeling.

The man stilled momentarily, shocked. Then, the most lovely smile Arthur had ever had the pleasure of looking upon spread across his handsome, slender face and he leapt forward, throwing his arms around Arthur and lifting him easily off the ground.

“Dude! Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you too! I—Holy shit, I can’t believe my words to you were so stupid, I’m so sorry. Yours were so romantic and mine were total shit, damn it!” He cried, laughing jovially as he gently set the Brit down on his feet.

Arthur couldn’t contain the smile on his own pale face as he gazed up at the man. “I’ll forgive you since you’re absolutely divine,” he said, chuckling.

“God, dude, I-I can’t believe it! Oh my god, tell me everything about you! What’s your name, how old are you, where are you from? England, right?” Asked the man quickly.

“I’m Arthur Kirkland, twenty-four, and yes, I’m from England. And you?”

“I’m Alfred Jones and I’m nineteen! Born and raised in Delaware!”

Their conversation continued on with Arthur and Alfred speaking excitedly. They both took an eager interest in the other and quickly grew to like the other. They both left the cafe giddy with excitement at heaving met their soulmates. Of course, they’d exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet the following week for their first official date.

From there, their relationship progressed quickly. Weeks together turned to months, and soon they’d been together six months. Arthur had learned more about the eccentric, excitable American he was to call his soulmate, and had fallen head over heels for him in a matter of weeks. He was absolutely enamored by the American despite his many quirks, finding everything he did completely perfect. Even Francis approved of Alfred, agreeing that his cheerful personality was the perfect complement to Arthur’s naturally abrasive, sarcastic nature.

It was when they were sitting down together on the couch in Arthur’s luxurious penthouse, Alfred laying with his head rested upon Arthur’s chest as they watched TV. Arthur had completely forgotten his lack of a heartbeat until Alfred had suddenly sat up almost twenty minutes into the program, propped up on his elbow and frozen in place.

“Love? What is it?” Arthur asked, frowning. He couldn’t see Alfred’s face, only the back of his head, but his heart rate had quickened and he still hadn’t said anything, which was very unlike the usually obnoxious American.

“Hold on,” Alfred said, sitting up.

He reached out, pressing his hand over Arthur’s chest again, directly above his heart. Arthur could feel the warmth from the American’s palm pushing through the fabric of his sweater, radiating comfort against his cold, dead skin. His breath caught in his throat, suddenly realizing exactly what it was Alfred was looking for, and knowing he wouldn’t find it.

“A-Arthur?” Alfred asked after a moment of holding his hand in place, looking worriedly up into his boyfriend’s face.

All the blood had drained from Alfred’s face. His bright eyes were widened to the size of saucers and filled with horror, and his full lips were hanging open, clearly unsure of what to say or do.

Alfred gulped, looking guilty. He slowly reached for the American’s wrist, wincing when the American flinched and retracted his hand, bringing it to his lap. If he’d had a heartbeat, Arthur knew it would have stopped by now from the fear on Alfred’s face, the worry and horror swimming in his eyes as they flitted across Arthur’s figure.

“Alfred…” Arthur began softly, gulping.

The American was still gazing at him with horror in his eyes. “What's—Wh-What’s wrong with you, Arthur? Why don’t you have a heartbeat?” The American asked, his usually strong voice shaky and weak.

He scooted further away from his boyfriend on the couch and the Brit wanted desperately to reach out for the American, to wrap him in his arms and reassure him of everything, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t warm like a human, couldn’t offer Alfred the same comfort a human could. He wasn’t alive. He was a vampire—a cold, dead, soulless vampire, and Alfred had finally discovered his soulmate’s disgusting identity.

“I… Alfred, dearest, please, I… I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to think I’m crazy. I swear there’s an explanation, but you have to trust me.” Said Arthur calmly, his green eyes pleading.

Alfred gulped and clasped his hands together in front of him. “Tell me, Arthur,” he said.

The Brit nodded grimly, his square jaw set with determination. He ached at the thought of telling Alfred the truth, for he knew the American would be far too afraid to be with him once he knew what he really was, but he couldn’t lie. He knew Alfred would figure it out eventually even if he convinced him now that he was normal—after all, there would come a day when Alfred would catch on to the fact that Arthur hadn’t aged a day since their first meeting.

“I… Alfred, I’m a vampire. I… I’m not 24. I’ve been alive for a very, very long time.” Arthur admitted in a low tone.

For a moment, all was silent. Then, Alfred slipped off the couch and began to walk toward the door. Arthur moved to the edge of the couch and was about to call for the American when the man turned on his heel and walked back toward the couch. Then, he turned around again. He was pacing, Arthur realized with surprise.

“Darling, say something,” Arthur urged, standing up.

Alfred stopped in his tracks with his back turned to Arthur. “…I have no idea whether to believe you or not. If this were anyone else, I’d be out the door by now, but—” Alfred sucked in a deep breath and turned toward Arthur— “you’re my soulmate, and I’m ridiculously in love with you. Which is probably stupid, considering you’re obviously crazy.”

“I’m not—” Arthur cut himself off, knowing that arguing with Alfred wasn’t the best course of action. “I can prove it to you.”

Alfred gaped. “I’m not letting you drink my blood, if that’s what you mean. You’re probably just a freak who says this to try and convince people to give you blood for some weird fetish or something, or—” Alfred was cut off by his own scream as Arthur sped at him at an impossible speed.

In the next instant, he was in Arthur’s bedroom, being held tightly in Arthur’s arms. When he looked up, Arthur’s mouth was open and he was displaying two white fangs, to the American’s utter shock. “Wh—H-How—?!” Alfred asked, shoving against the man.

Arthur didn’t release him. Instead, he sped them back to the living room. Alfred’s mouth was open wide with shock and he immediately began to squirm again, jumping away from Arthur the second he was set back on his feet.

“You—How the fuck did you—?!” Alfred cried, his hands coming to his hair.

“Alfred, darling, please, look at me.” Arthur said. Once Alfred met his eyes, he continued. “I would never, ever hurt you, alright? And I will never keep anything from you again, I swear. This was my only big secret, I promise.” Arthur said gently, trying to reassure the American. “Please, Alfred. I love you.”

The American gulped in response. “S-So… How do you eat?” He asked carefully, frightened.

Arthur blinked. “I would never drink from you if you didn’t want me to, darling. Among the supernatural community there are others who have warm blood and whoact as donors, providing warm blood. A vampire can stave off the need for blood for a while with human food, too.”

Alfred was still staring at him with fear in his eyes and Arthur couldn’t help but to feel ashamed. He should have known he would never be accepted for what he truly was. How could he have ever been foolish enough to think that a dead man could ever be worthy of Alfred, someone so very alive, as if life was just radiating from him in all directions. Alfred’s light had given Arthur the illusion of life, making him feel as though he were truly alive once more.

“I…” Alfred paused a moment. “I should… tell you something.” He said, gulping.

Arthur blinked, surprised. Alfred’s shoulders has slackened considerably and the fear in his eyes suddenly seemed more like surprise.

“What is it?” Asked Arthur.

“…Mattie is like you.” Alfred said. “I admit that it still freaks me out a little to meet vampires, but… I believe you. And I know you aren’t dangerous.”

With that said, Alfred approached his boyfriend, taking the man’s cold, pale hand in his. Arthur smiled and squeezed it tightly, relishing in the contact and allowing relief to wash over him.

“Your twin is a vampire? How did that happen?” Arthur asked curiously.

“He said he got turned on his last visit to France.” Alfred said with a shrug. “All I know is that now he can do some awesome shit, and he promised to turn me in a couple years. I guess now you get to do the honors.” Alfred said, flashing Arthur a grin.

Arthur jolted. “Y-You want me to turn you?” He asked, gaping.

“When the time is right, yeah. I’m not about to die and let you move on,” Alfred teased.

Arthur grinned back at him, pushing himself up into his tiptoes and leaning inward to kiss the corner of Alfred’s mouth. “I waited almost two hundred years for you, my dear. I’d like to have at least triple that with you.” Arthur whispered gently against Alfred’s skin.

The American grinned, taking Arthur’s face in his hands. “Dude, you are so old.” He laughed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Time flies, darling. Soon you will be, too.” He retorted.

“As long as I get to be old with you, that’s fine.” Alfred replied, pulling Arthur into him for a kiss.

[lazilyandrogynousengineer]

I need to tell you something.......

Pairing:Liam×Riley

All characters belong to pb.This is just a fanfic.

Words:200+

Book:The Royal Romance Book2

Riley stepped aboard on the train and she nearly bumped into someone strong. She was lost in her own thoughts about her and her babies.She politely apologised and looked up, she was surprised to see Drake. Drake cpngratulated her for her engagement though he cast a wistful look at her.Riley sensed this amd asked Drake if he could accompany her to her cabin. She wanted to say something to him.One last time.Drake nodded and followed her.She opened the door of her cabin and locked it after Drake entered.

Riley,"Drake,I do owe you an explanation. I know this would be a shock for you that I am like the other girls out there,money and power chasers.You thought about me as a different person above all.Drake, this decision was toughest in my life.Drake,you do know that there was an assassination attempt on Liam's parents in Cordonia.We both need to be with him now.We both know, Liam doesn't ha e anyone to whom he could trust upon.It's you and me.I don't want to be a reason for your friendship to get ruined.He needs us.I don't want any power or money Ineed to protect him from himself.Drake,you have faced the worst circumstances so easily and Liam was always by your side.It's our turn to do so for him.We could elope right now,but this will wound Liam and he may never get out of this trauma that love of his life ran away with his best friend.We both will be happy but each day Liam would suffer.I know you ....You wouldn't want him to suffer because of me or of yourself.I made this decision for helping Beaumonts as well.I know they aren't my responsibility,but I do owe them too...Bartie needs to enjoy the legacy that he has inherited from Bertand.He needs to have every luxury that Savannah,you and I never got in our childhood.Drake,please never ever think that this girl rejected me.I never rejected you.A part of me will always crave for you.Each day I would love you more than the previous day.Some love stories aren't meant to be completed because they are eternal like ours ,where we didn't have sex but ours souls are united forever.I love Liam too." Before she could say anything more she sobbed.

Drake calmed her and told her,"Riley you don't owe me anything.I do know our obligations.We cannot just run off to hills leaving Liam to deal with this mess.Riley, I knew you loved Liam more from the moment you hoped on the plane to come to Cordonia.I never wanted to love you. Infact,I did hate you cause you were a darling even when I was a jerk to you.I knew that you loved me too, when you told Olivia to shut the fuck up about Savannah and spent the night with me gazing at the stars.....Riley,I want to tell you something,that I too fell in love with you...but towards the end of the tour I also fell in love with Olivia too.We may never be together but will love each other continuously.I never knew how by each passing day you became like Liam.You are ready to sacrifice everything for Bartie even though he has absolutely no connection with you.Just promise me one thing,next time in some next life when we meet again, It will be just our day...."

Riley got up from the chair leaned in towards Drake and kissed him passionately for one last time.Drake too leaned in and pressed his body against her,they kissed as if there was no tomorrow.They got towards the bed kissed incessantly.Riley breathlessly told Drake,"We would cross a line if we continue.But I want to cuddle with you for tonight,this entire train journey."Drake held her tight in his arms as if she was a precious doll to a boy.Riley slept peacefully that night.

In the morning Drake and Riley coaxed in her bed. Riley felt the urge to vomit again.She got up and ran towards bathroom. Vomitted for next 15 minutes.Drake woke up too ,to check on Riley of she was okay.Riley came back exhausted sat on her bed.Drake offered her a glass of water.Riley felt as if she was gonna faint.Drake insisted," Riley once the train stops in Cordonia we will go and get you checked up by a doctor."Before he could continue.Riley looked at Drake and whispered,"It isn't required Drake.I am fine.I don't need to see a doctor for a check up when I know what this is about."Drake was perplexed he asked her,"What's the issue Riley?Don't you trust me?After spending a cuddle warmth night?" Riley cuthim off and said ,"Drake when I can give up my life for you, why wouldn't I want to tell you this state of my life.Drake only Hana knows this,not even Maxwell,not even Liam who deserves to know this news first.Drake,I am pregnant with Liam's babies.We are gonna have twins.Almost 2 weeks have bygone since I conceived them.My nausea increases by each passing day Drake and I have an urge to vomit."Drake gaped at her.Then pulled her in a hug.He said,"Bansal,will these two be sweet princesses like you?"To which Riley replied,"I think one of them maybe a grumpy Prince Drake".They chuckled, hugged and embraced each other for eternal time.