#this is nerve-wracking and i just kinda bullet-pointed it.

[galaxythreads]

Hi! Love your work! Out of curiosity, what’s your writing process behind writing a fic? I’m inspired by you to actually start writing a long chapter fic, but I’m a little intimidated by the whole planning process and actually writing it out. May I ask what’s your personal process for planning and outlining a long fic? Do you just use bullet points or use a spreadsheet? 

Also, may I ask what’s your opinion on how many words someone who wants to improve in writing should write in a day (or your personal word count goal for a day) ? Or maybe just general tips on having motivation and determination to finish a fic?   

Thank you so much for reading this and once again your fics are literally my comfort food and thank you so much for your amazing contribution to the MCU fandom. Your talent is out of this world. :)

hi! thanks for asking. My door is always open for writing asks. Thanks so much for reaching out and being brave enough to ask these questions. I know that can be a little scary. Also so cool that you're working on trying to write a mulit-chapter. The first one is always so nerve-wracking.

My process is this:

I start with an idea. Sometimes it's a scene that I think would be cool, other times it's a need to see two characters talk to each other about their feelings in depth. sometimes I look at fandom tropes getting passed around a lot and then try to figure out how to do it in a way that will stand out. Peter Parker's field trip to SI was something I thought about for a long time before realizing I should do it as a hostage situation.

Anyway, so the idea spawns life and I start thinking about how it would work and then I do one of two things:

I start writing.

I plan some to see if I want to start writing.

In YSFSLWFTCA, I wrote the scene where Clint can understand chitarian as Loki is interrogating them about Thor before I did any planning. I poked at the scene a lot and eventually threw it into my junk document because I didn't think it would work. (I never delete anything. I firmly believe you can always recycle something later). A few months passed, I kept thinking about that scene so I planned out how the story was going to go and I realized I really liked it. Then I wrote chapter 1.

Sometimes I just write chapter 1 and it works perfectly and life is happy and then I plan the rest of the story.

Other times I plan the story first, sit on it, and then start writing. That was the case with And See Me. I had the entire thing planned a few days after finishing Look Closer (c l o s e r ) I just didn't start writing.

Here's a post about how I plan.

(I never plan one-shots, by the way. Those are always a fly by the seat of my pants kinda thing. Genuinely, I did not know that Peter had a bomb on him when I started writing Look Closer (c l o s e r ))

--

Plan is done. I know where I'm going. This is good. Often this is when I will post the first chapter. I never finish my fics before posting, much to the frustration of a lot of people, but that is something I have seen people do. I kinda just. Want comments. I love the community. That's why I've been writing on ao3 for so long.

After the first chapter is posted, I start tackling the second. And then I set a goal for myself. How often do I want to update this fic? Once a a month, twice a month? every week? I do not care? Because that sets up a writing schedule.

If I'm going to update every week, I need to drop my chapter count to about 5-7k. That means I need to hit about 1k words every day. But what usually happens is I have like two days of the week I write 5-10 pages and then I write another 5-10 pages later.

For a while, my goal has been to post every other week. Obviously, I am. Not doing that right now. (Hi, I suffer from multiple mental illnesses.) I wrote a chapter and then edited it in the span of about 10 days.

---

Also, may I ask what’s your opinion on how many words someone who wants to improve in writing should write in a day (or your personal word count goal for a day) ?

Um. Idk. I generally don't have a word count goal unless I'm struggling with the chapter. I do writing by time increments. I write for 1-3 hours every day usually. Sometimes that means 500 words, sometimes it's 2-4k. I hate word count goals. If you know you're going to write, I feel like it's more important to dedicate time to it rather than focus on a number. You'll stress yourself out.

I remember during 2020 whumptober, the worst writing experience of my life, i tried to write 3k every single day. I was miserable. I ended up in tears more often than not because reaching a word count felt impossible. Writing for an hour, regardless of how much you get done? That is easy. You know you're going to be there for a whole hour. It's just you and that document. If that means you get one sentence, amazing. Leave it at that.

So my advice would just be to set aside time a few days a week (doesn't have to be every day) to write for a minimum of 30 minutes. Don't focus on words. You will see progress like you won't believe because of the consistency over time, not a word count. I don't write every day. I didn't write today, in fact. It's important to take breaks so you don't burn yourself out, which is why I don't live by the write every day rule.

But if you really, really want to improve as a writer, you have to read. You need to find authors you love and figure out why you love them. What is it about their craft that is so enticing? You need to read books/fics that are top tier because they will be a master class on writing more than anything I could say would be. When you find the writer that makes you want to write, that is the author whose work you need to rip apart to figure out what they're doing that you wish you could do. (and you will be able to do it. the secret to good writing is mimicking other authors)

I read a lot and as I'm reading, I try to focus on not just what's going on, but how it's going on. What words the author is using to describe things, the sensory information we're getting, how xyz sound was described, the way emotions are written. That has improved my writing a lot.

I will say it again: Good writing is just mimicking other authors until you know what you're doing. Then you keep mimicking because that's just what authors do. we learn from each other constantly.

--

"Or maybe just general tips on having motivation and determination to finish a fic?"

I would recommend trying to aim for a multi-chapter fic that is on the sorter end, like 30-40k (150-230 pages) at first. It's just a lot easier to push through that than a full 70-200k (300-600 page) monster. Once you get one done, it will be so much easier to motivate yourself to finish the next one because you already finished something.

Finding people you can talk to about it helps a lot too. I have mutuals I complain to about plot problems.

I guess for me, the relief of not having to work on something kind of becomes a primary motivator for me toward the end of a fic. I want it over so it's over. Yes, I'm really excited to share the ending, but I also just want to be done with the fic XD

Idk. Rereading the fic helps. Trying to figure out why you wanted to see it to the end. Ultimately, you want to write this. You're allowed to write this and you should. No one will write that fic the way you do, and that is the point. The excitement you feel about writing this fic will still be there in a year when you're tired and you're not sure if you want to finish it. That's why fics get finished after years of hiatus, because the author found the excitement again.

Allow yourself to be excited and silly about it. You're about to start a project that will take up a lot of time. Make a playlist, make collages, do fan art, talk about the fic on your blog, just embrace that you're working on this and you'll have so much fun. That's the important part, not finishing it. It's having fun on what you do work on. And I know that's not helpful, but try to bare that in mind.

I don't know. I don't have that much advice on motivation to finish, even though I probably should? I just don't think about it, so I don't know how I consistently plow through fics. I try to have something in every chapter that makes me go ">:)" because then I want to finish that scene and then I rinse and repeat that process for every chapter, so there's always something I want to reach.

Hopefully, this is a little helpful. Please feel free to bug me more with questions if you don't think I answered something properly, or you just have more questions. I really don't mind writing questions. I'd rather be helpful than not.

--

"Thank you so much for reading this and once again your fics are literally my comfort food and thank you so much for your amazing contribution to the MCU fandom. Your talent is out of this world. :)"

you deserve every good thing in this world. thank you. <3<3<3

[thee-americannightmare-blog]

meet CODY RHODES, the THIRTY THREE-year-old MALE living in ATLANTA GEORGIA and traveling the world as a [ALL ELITE WRESTLING] [SUPERSTAR]. word on the street is that they are ( HONEST & LOYAL & INSIGHTFUL ), but can also be ( COMPULSIVE & IMPULSIVE & STUBBORN )

      Hi! I’m pretty excited to be roleplaying with everyone here, I’m Rosie and this is my portrayal of this little bean named Cody Rhodes. I’m a hundred percent a plots person and a go with the flow chemistry building type of human being. So if you’re ever into it, shoot me a DM and we can float around it.  I’ll bullet point some of my muse things you should know.

1. Cody is bisexual, he’s not exactly closeted, but he doesn’t put it real out in the open. It was something he has struggled with for quite a few years and he’s slowly becoming more open with it. 

2. He’s pretty into somewhat spooky things. Not full blown scary things, but he dabbles in some horror movies with a good story-line to them.

3. He’s very impulsive. If he wants something, he will say it and he will go hard to get it.

4. I do have him as divorced, or legally separated. If a Brandi comes in, this can obviously be discussed in detail. But they’re definitely married on screen for those purposes.

5. He is the most loyal son of a bitch you could ever meet, he’ll ride for you and die for you.

-- Most of my portrayal is based on interviews, and Being The Elite. He’s a little rough around the edges, but I can’t wait to get to interacting and making this an easy transition.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

- The Elite Boys, any affiliation with AEW.

- I definitely want a connection of the first person (dude) that he’d ever felt somethin’ for in a romantic way. 

Once more, if you’re into plotting, hit me up.

[lynn-writes-things]

the thrill of the hunt - toji fushiguro x reader

I just have primal dom!Toji brainrot, ya know?

cw: 18+ content ; DARK CONTENT!! ; primal dom!Toji x prey!reader ; “hunting” ; cnc (consensual non-consent) ((this is an established dynamic! both parties have consented to these dynamics!)) ; knife k!nk ; gun k!nk (sorta??) ; dacryphilia (kinda???) ; breeding kink (if you squint?????)

(I have NEVER written this kinda shit before, pls forgive any mistakes! also if I forgot to tag a warning pls let me know!)

Fear.

That’s all that fueled you as you ran through the dim maze of trees, nothing but a blind panic leading you, your only goal is just to survive. To make it through this. To make it out of these woods before the sun crosses fully below the horizon, and you lose all sense of direction entirely. Not that you had much sense of it now, with nothing but panic guiding you, acting on pure instinct to evade the man - no, the monster hunting you down.

It’s been a while since you last heard any sign of him, but you know deep down that that doesn’t mean for even a second that you’re safe. Hell, who are you kidding - you’ll never be safe with him after you. Still, your legs burn from running through the rough terrain, and your lungs fare no better, each inhale feels as though you’ve set a million matches ablaze in place of every nerve-ending in your chest cavity, and the fire threatens to burn you inside out until you’re nothing but ash. In an attempt to extinguish the flames, no matter how temporary the relief may be, you find yourself leaning against a tree, trying your damnedest to keep your desperate gasps for air as quiet as possible, though you know it’s no use.

You know it’s no use, and that you’ve failed, when a shot rings in your ears, and a bullet very nearly misses you - going right past your tree and the next, mere inches from your face. Tears fill your eyes, obscuring your vision more than you can afford, and just like that, you’re off running again. Admittedly, you have no idea how long you’ve been running at this point, no idea how long you’ve been lost in these woods, all you do know is that you can’t take much more of this before your body gives out completely, you know you’re nearing your breaking point. He knows it too, and you know that he’s counting on that - know that he’s going to keep toying with you until your poor body just can’t take anymore. God only knows what will happen if - no, when - he catches you.

Another bullet wizzes past you, snapping you from your panicked train of thought and forcing you to focus on the task at hand. The name of the game is to fucking survive. Abruptly, you turn on your heel, speeding off in a new direction, dodging stray roots and fallen branches as the sun continues it’s slow descent, painting the woods in an even eerier atmosphere.

The only thing you can hear is your rapid heartbeat, hammering so loudly that you fear even he can hear it. All you can feel is the fire combusting your lungs and limbs, the cold air of the coming night does little to nothing to sooth the burns. If anything, the cooling air only stings your burning flesh, and you try so very hard to blink away even more tears - you cannot afford to have your vision further compromised right now. If you can’t see, you’re as good as dead.

Finally, there’s a break in the trees. You can see it just up ahead, there’s a clearing, and maybe - just fucking maybe - this is your ticket out. Maybe this clearing will give way to more open space, buildings to escape into, even just people to bare witness to this - anything to solidify your safety. You can see it. You’re nearing the edge of the woodland, you’re so fucking close-

..It’s a pity that your foot catches on a raised root, sending you tumbling to the ground. The force at which you land will no doubt leave your skin scraped and bloodied, but that’s the least of your problems as you hear his footsteps approaching. Sobs wrack your body, violent ones that purge the burning air from your lungs, as you scream in heart wracking anguish, accepting your fate.

You’ve lost.

One large hand harshly grips your hair, pulling your head off of the dirt. With his free hand, the blade of a knife presses against your throat, threatening to break the skin. You can feel his body leaning over yours, and you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Keeping them squeezed shut, you find it mildly easier to pretend that this is all fake, that it isn’t real. Surely, this can’t fucking be real - you cannot be about to die by this fucking monster. “Found you.” His deep voice reverberates in your mind, his hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“P-Ple-ease, p-please don’t k-kill me!” You wail, though you know your pleas fall on deaf ears when you feel his chuckle. Suddenly, you find yourself wondering if death would be the prefered option to whatever this sick fuck has planned with you.

“Now, why would I go and kill such a perfect little bunny without playing with her first?” His words make you whimper, fearing what’s to come. The knife against your throat and the hand in your hair vanish, both hands becoming interested in quite literally ripping your shirt off. “But first..” His voice trails off, and you cry out when you feel the knife against your back, you feel him carving something into your skin. His initials, if you had to guess. You want to squirm away, to do something, but you know that any movements you make now would only serve to cause you more injury. “You’re mine now, little bunny.” He taunts, voice dripping with toxic honey that makes you feel sick to your stomach. “Even if I let you go, everyone’s gonna fuckin’ know who you belong to. Even you.”

“S-Stop! P-Please, just st-top!” Your cries only make the man above you laugh, moving off of you just enough to roughly flip you onto your back, and finally, you get a look at the demon who’s just claimed you as his own personal plaything. Green eyes gleam with something evil, and the smirk on his scarred lips makes your once-burning blood run cold.

“‘Look so pretty when you’re cryin’ for me, darlin’.” He licks his lips, making quick work of cutting your shorts off in a similar manner to your shirt, taking your panties off along with them and stuffing the ripped fabric into his pocket. “Let’s see how hard we can make ya’ cry, hm?”

“N-No, please!” You scream, desperately smacking and scratching at him, anything that you can think of before he snatches your wrists together with a growl and pins them above your head. For what it’s worth, the scratch marks along his cheek that are already starting to bead with blood is mildly satisfying to you - at least you landed something. His free hand lands a harsh smack on your cheek, leaving your ears ringing momentarily as he takes the distraction as an opportunity to situate himself between your thighs, free hand spreading your folds, despite your attempts at trying to kick him away. You just can’t make him budge, he’s much too massive and muscular. The monster of a man above you chuckles lowly, meeting your tearfilled eyes with a hint of amusement in his, one eyebrow raised.

“Y’know, for someone who’s claiming not to want this, you’re real fucking wet, bunny.” One of his thick fingers enters you with ease as a means of proving his statement. “Pretty little pussy’s already creamin’ for me.”

“F-Fuck y-you!” You stammer, face flushed red in embarrassment. He chuckles again, eyes once again going dark as he removes his finger, lining up his massive cock with your entrance. You hadn’t even noticed him pull it out, but you don’t have a second to actually think back on it before he’s bottomed out inside of you in one single thrust, making you scream in pain and shock. “If you insist.” His husky voice sounds again, though you barely register it as he immediately picks up a brutal pace.

“So fuckin’ tight, bunny.” He growls, leaning down to lick up the new tears that stream down your cheeks. “Gonna train my pretty little bunny to take my cock. No one else is ever gonna be good enough when I’m done with you.” With his free hand, he grabs one of your legs and hoists it over his shoulder, making his cock hit your g-spot with every single thrust. You feel betrayed by your body when your pussy clenches around his cock, and the subconscious way that your back arches. “There we go,” He coos, the hand once pinning your wrists down now finds its way down to rub quick circles on your clit. Your moans and mewls are being ripped from you despite your best efforts to hold them back - but god, why does it feel so good?

You’re getting close, and he can tell - he can tell by the way your slick coats your inner thighs, and the way your walls clench so tightly around him. The expression on your face is no longer one of pain, of fear - no, it’s one of pleasure that rationally, you know you should not be feeling.

“Gonna be a good little pet and cum for me? Hm?” He urges, speeding up the circles on your clit, and it’s enough for the fire pooling in your belly to explode into whitehot euphoria as your orgasm washes over you.

“T-Toji! Fuck - Daddy!!” You can’t help but scream as he doesn’t relent, your gushing slick coating his balls and lower abdomen as you’re given no time to recover from your earth shattering orgasm. Toji chuckles, leaning down to bite your neck as his pace continues.

“Y’broke character on me, doll.” When he pulls back to look you in the eyes, the sight of your boyfriend makes your eyes roll back into your head at the overstimulation. He slows down, the hand on your clit now comes to grasp your neck, applying slight pressure to the sides of your neck while he now rocks his hips into yours at a slow, languid pace, each thrust allowing you to feel each vein of his girthy cock. “Now, what do you say?”

“S-Sorry, d-daddy..” You pout, and he leans down to kiss your lips. He rewards your apology with quicker thrusts, squeezing your neck with enough pressure that he knows you love. “D-Daddy..!” That heat is already back, and you know you’re closing in on another mind blowing orgasm.

“Close again already?” He tsks at you, but you know he’s getting close himself too by the way his breathing is heavier, panting between growls and grunts against your lips. “Go on then, little bunny, cum for daddy.” And oh, you do. Toji watches with hungry eyes as your back arches off of the ground and your juices squirt all over him, the way your walls squeeze him like a vice is more than enough to push him over the ledge as well, losing himself in the feeling of your slick walls milking him. “Gonna fuckin’ knock you up,” He grunts, continuing to rut into you, thick ropes of white painting your insides. “Y’er fuckin’ mine.” His possessive growls make you whine, your arms wrapping around him to lock him even closer to your body.

“Love you,” You whimper, pressing your face against his neck. “Don’t let go..”

“Not gonna let go,” He promises, stilling his movements, keeping you caged beneath him. “Love you too, bunny.”

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, until you’re back down to earth after your highs, only then does Toji pull away from you, pulling you to sit on his lap instead of laying on the ground. “You alright? Was that too much?” His eyes are genuine, his concern makes your heart swell.

“N-No, I’m okay. That was.. that was good.” You offer him a shaky grin, still fairly out of it. Toji smiles at you, leaning in to kiss your lips softly. “C’mon, let's get back to the camp so I can get that cut cleaned up, ‘kay?”

“M’kay.” With your go-ahead, he first takes his shirt off to allow you to slip it on to cover yourself, then stands with you in his arms, easily carrying you back to the place you’d long forgotten about. It amazes you that Toji somehow remembers exactly where the two of you came from, but you’re far too exhausted to question it too much right now.

“After that how about we go home? Think we both could use a nice bath right about now.”

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re stinky.” You giggle softly, fighting off sleep.

“I’ll drop you.”

“Noooooo.” You whine and cling to him with what little strength is left in your body. Toji chuckles at your antics, but his smile is soft when he feels you go slack in his arms, your breathing even and calm, signaling that you’ve fallen asleep right in his arms while he carries you back to where you once came. Honestly, it’s his favorite place for you to fall asleep.

[finniestoncrane]

Harley Quinn asking out a shy female reader? I just think it would be cute someone as energetic and chaotic as her dating someone that can barely socialize without dying (not me projecting wishing I had a gf like her)

Stick With Me

Arkham!Harley x Female!Reader, word count: 750 i'm literally so pleased to be writing for HER you have no idea, my baby, my dream girl, my puddin' 💕 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: flirting, anxiety portrayal

It had been a mistake before you’d even done anything. From the moment you agreed to go out with your friends to a bar on one of the rowdiest nights of the year, short of Halloween and ‘supervillains drink free’ night. But you were making a conscious effort to do things that were out of your comfort zone. New year, new you, you thought to yourself, as you nursed the beginnings of a panic attack in the corner of the hallway that led to the bathrooms. From there, the music only vaguely vibrated through the floor and your chest, and hiding at the end of the corridor, by the janitorial corridor, meant most of the patrons didn’t even look your way before heading into the restrooms which were positioned much further up.

You faced the ground, controlled breathing.

Five things you could see. From there, the floor, your shows, something that looked like a bullet chip in the hardwood, some miscellaneous stains, and the disgustingly damp looking runner carpet.

Four things you could touch. Either side of you, the walls were sticky, like they had just been painted, but they hadn’t. You were hyper aware of your toes in your socks, the feeling of the sweat on your upper lip as you rubbed your finger over it.

Three things you could hear. The tinny thumping of the music beyond the doors. The sound of a hand dryer. A sweet, soft giggle.

Two things you could smell. The faintest hint of urine. And above it, a sweet-smelling perfume.

One thing you could taste. Bile, rising in your throat.

“Hey, cutie, you ok over here?”

The source of the sugary smell and no doubt the sweet giggle, you looked up into the kind eyes of the stranger who was placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Who’s done this to ya? I’m just lookin’ for an excuse tonight!”

Her fingers pressed tight into you, reassurance that felt so welcomed but so nerve-wracking.

“Uh… you really ok, or what? You’re makin’ me kinda nervous, toots!”

When you managed to make eye contact, you were unable to pull away again. She was captivating, adorable, her smile as sweet as the perfume she was wearing. Usually, you were unable to talk because of nerves, your crippling shyness, now you were just in awe that someone like her had even bothered to give you the time of day. And had she called you… cutie?

“Ok, now I’m real worried, kid! Do I gotta go cause a scene or not?”

“Sorry, I-”

“Oh! There ya go! You can talk! Now, what’s the matter with ya?”

“I’m… not used to this. It’s loud, there’s so many people. I came here with my friends but they’ve all paired off with other people and… it’s not…”

“You can’t dance or somethin’?”

“I’m just shy.”

You looked down at the floor, feeling so small. Like a child, trying to explain to an adult something that just seemed incomprehensible to them.

“Lookin’ like you do? Ha!”

Your face felt hot in an instant, and you were obviously blushing from the way she giggled at you.

“I’m Harley, by the way.”

You took her outstretched hand, introducing yourself and sitting in stunned silence at the compliments she poured over your name before a slight smile curled up at the corner of her mouth.

“Listen, you gotta go back in there at some point. Why don’t ya come with me?”

“Oh I don’t want to… bother you…”

“Yeah, I don’t think you will be! ‘Sides, you stick with me, you won’t have any reasons for worryin’ no more!”

The way she spoke was lilting, loud and harsh, yes, but somehow still intoxicatingly sweet and reassuring. As you stood in silence, unsure of what to say to her in response, desperate to say yes, desperate to take the hand of a beautiful stranger and make a real step towards being braver, you still couldn’t muster the words. All that came out was a stammer as you nodded your head, a quick apology escaping your lips as you let your head drop, embarrassed by yourself.

She lifted your chin up with her finger, looking into your eyes and winking.

“Hey, don’t worry about it! I came out here alone lookin’ for trouble but I don’t mind all that much if I end up with a little sensible comin’ home with me.”

[timetravesty]

Running On A High

For @honestlymaximumblizzard who requested a fic about Clove's 16th birthday and spending it with Erin! Please Enjoy!

Masterlist

Warnings: Mild mild cursing

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

“Alright, now take a turn down this street. We’ll be attempting the parallel parking segment of the test.” The man said as he pointed his sharp pencil to the side. Clove nodded, hands firmly placed on the steering wheel as she slowly turned the wheel.

This was nerve wracking and Clove was probably sweating bullets. Luckily, she was wearing a simple white tee and light blue jeans and under the sun of the city, Clove felt a little cooler.

Taking the turn, she slowly worked her way into the horizontal parking space, carefully stopping and concentrating before finally turning forward. She took her hands off the wheel as the instructor opened the door, checking her parking as Clove held her breath.

The man made another tick on his clipboard before slipping the paper out. “Congratulations, you’ve passed.” He said as Clove smiled brightly.

She thanked the man, exiting the car as she followed him back into the DMV. Sitting in one of the blue waiting room chairs, Bea scrolled on her phone, looking up when her daughter reapproached as she proudly held up her test.

“Guess who got their driver’s license?!” Clove exclaimed as Bea stood, towering over her daughter and taking the sheet.

“Hey, congrats princess. It only took you three tries.” Bea teased as Clove rolled her eyes, reclaiming the paper from her mom as the two exited the building. Set out front, Bea’s Mercedes GT-class was sparkling under the sun as Clove looked towards her mom.

“Hey, I could drive us home?” Clove tried as Bea laughed, ruffling Clove’s chocolate locks with a smile.

“Not a chance. Your mom would kill me if I let you on the streets of New York so soon.”

Clove took shotgun of the car, buckling in as Bea stepped into the vehicle. “Hey, mom said I was a fine driver. I took her on a drive like a week ago.” Clove justified as Bea smiled, flipping on the engine and exiting out of the lot.

“You mean the day she came home with a headache and had to go to bed early?” Bea asked as the two drove towards their apartment.

“Ma, I’ve got the document to prove it. I know how to drive now so maybe….” She trailed off, glancing outside towards the city as Bea rolled her eyes. She glanced at Clove, smiling softly before turning back to the road.

“Your birthday’s coming up. Know what you want yet?” Bea asked as Clove scoffed.

“I guess the hints I’ve been dropping haven’t been getting across.” Clove mumbled as Bea shrugged, stopping at a red light as she tapped her short nails against the wheel.

“Well, your request is a little bit of a stretch.” Bea smiled as Clove raised a sharp brow.

For two CEOs of some pretty big companies, Clove didn’t think her request was a stretch at all. Of course, she didn’t expect her moms to just get her a car for free like Clove was some sort of spoiled brat. She had taken the liberty of applying for a summer job as a teacher’s assistant to Ms. James, helping the tiny Thatcher-Heart kids become future ballet dancers. Coincidentally, Thatcher-Heart had a large dance program, meaning Clove had a buddy to keep her company and help her perform some steps.

The gorgeous ice queen, Erin McDermot, was surprisingly kind to children, though she was not very thrilled about Clove being there constantly. It was good money though, and Clove had already saved up about 7k from taking some extra dancing gigs around the city.

That was nowhere near the amount she needed for the car she wanted, but it at least showed her moms she was trying to work for it. If they wanted her to pay them back, Clove would have, but she kinda wanted the car now.

“What’s so important about getting a car now? You’re almost sixteen. I didn’t get my driver’s license till I was 17.” Bea said, pulling into the parking lot of their apartment complex.

“I just really want a car of my own! I can keep my job and pay for all the things it needs!” Clove said as Bea chuckled, stopping the car as the two made their way up to the apartment.

Poppy was sitting on the big couch, computer in her lap as Oliver sat by her side, playing on his leap frog as Poppy would tap the screen every now and then when the boy would get stuck.

She looked up, smiling when she saw the two as Bea came around to the back of the couch, pressing a kiss to her forehead before exiting towards the kitchen. “How did it go?” Poppy asked as Clove pulled the paper from her back pocket.

Poppy took it, smiling as Clove watched her mom. She was still insanely gorgeous, no longer golden blonde but a darker tawny color as she glanced up at Clove. “Congratulations Love.” Poppy smiled as she gestured for Clove to bend down, pressing a kiss to her cheek as Clove pulled away.

“I was talking with Ma on the drive back about my birthday gift…” Clove tried, moving to sit by Oliver who clapped happily when Clove sat by him.

“Lo, look at my… my rabbit.” He mumbled in his tiny baby voice as Clove shifted him onto her lap, bouncing him up and down as Poppy closed her computer.

“Oh, and what did you have in mind?” Poppy asked, looking over at Bea who was currently peeling a mango. She smiled up at Poppy before resuming her cutting as Poppy turned back to Clove.

“Maybe… I could get a car for my birthday? I’ve already got one in mind if you’re open to suggestions.”

“A car? That’s a hefty gift, Clove, and you just got your license.” Poppy commented as Clove nodded.

“That is all true, but, hear me out, you don’t have to drive me to school anymore.” Clove smiled as Poppy rolled her eyes playfully.

“And if I like driving you to school?” Poppy challenged as Clove sighed.

“Mom, I’m sixteen now. I could save up for my own car, or I can give you like a downpayment and pay you back the rest later.” Clove offered as Poppy stifled a laugh.

Oliver looked up at Clove with wide brown eyes as Clove ruffled the boy's hair. “Car? I want a car.” He smiled, pointing at his tablet that featured a hot red car.

“Maybe when you’re older Oli.” Clove smiled down at her baby brother as Bea came back, a bowl of mangos in hand as she took a seat next to Poppy who leaned back to look at Bea.

“Clove wants a car. Did you know this?”

Bea shrugged, eating a piece with a toothpick as Oliver’s eyes zeroed in on the bowl of fruit. He set his tablet down, sliding off of Clove’s lap before waddling over to Bea who set the fruit on the table to pick up the boy. She placed him carefully between her legs before handing him the bowl.

“She’s mentioned it once or twice.”

By once or twice, Bea meant that Clove had mentioned it almost daily since she got her learner’s permit a year ago.

“Guys, I’m a responsible child, right?”

Poppy and Bea remained quiet.

“Okay, you would leave me alone in a room with Oli, right?”

“Yes, but only for an hour.” Bea said as Clove heaved a heavy sigh.

“What do I need to do to prove to you I can handle a car? I’ll even take a motorcycle if you like that option better?” Poppy grimaced as she looked at Clove more seriously.

“Clove, we trust you with a car, but we have to give it some more thought. And no, you can not have a motorcycle. Those things are death traps.”

“It’s true, she said that when she first got on mine.” Bea added as Poppy nodded along with her wife’s statement.

“Give us some time to think about it. Until then, what else do you want for your birthday?” Poppy asked as Clove hummed to herself.

Honestly, she didn’t have many plans since her birthday fell on a Thursday, a school day and a session of ballet practice afterwards. Her moms usually picked her up later on that day and usually, like on most of Clove’s birthdays, they would head to some nice restaurant of Clove’s choice and meet up with their family members. Zoey, Veronica, Chloe, Carter, Art, Joshua, Ana, and sometimes even Piers would show up to celebrate her birthday. They were the more noticeable guests, but recently Tevon and Mei, Bea and Poppy’s work colleagues, would show up. Even Kath Rensler, Bea’s former boss, always left some gorgeous gifts for Clove to have since the woman was currently retiring in Greece. Her grandparents in SweetCreek always mailed her something that reminded her of the farm and Clove had quite a collection now.

Clove wasn’t one to usually invite people from school over, but she had always invited Sally who was her plus one on most small gatherings. Though some girls on the dance team wanted to be invited, Clove usually forgot to tell them where it was. She liked the girls, but inviting them to a personal family event seemed out of place.

“Honestly, I really don’t want anything else. Just a cake.” Clove shrugged as Poppy rolled her eyes.

“You are both awful at having birthdays.” Poppy commented as she looked at Bea who was currently munching on a mango while Oliver was too. They both looked up at Poppy simultaneously, mango in their mouths as Bea frowned slightly.

“We don’t need to have a Kardashian sized party every year. That’s saved for you, drama queen.”

Poppy turned back to Clove, smiling simply at her daughter who was staring off in the distance. “Think about it some more Clove, it’s only a few weeks away.”

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

“Birthday french toast!” Bea called out as Clove ran down the stairs, adjusting her tie as she slid professionally onto a kitchen stool. “Hey, happy birthday, birthday girl!” Bea smiled, moving around the kitchen and placing a kiss on Clove's forehead.

“Thanks Ma.” Clove smiled, fixing her tie using one of the hanging wall mirrors as Bea went back to the stove. Somehow, she actually did feel sixteen, a shock since most birthdays, it always took a couple of months to actually feel like the age.

“What do you want on your toast? I’ve got whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries-”

“I’ll just have some syrup.” Clove smiled as Bea slid her an already made plate of french toast and syrup.

“Even at sixteen, your tastes don’t change.” Bea smiled as she cut up a plate for Oliver who was still asleep apparently. Poppy wasn’t downstairs either as Clove took a bite of her birthday breakfast. It was absolutely delicious.

“Where’s mom? Did she head to the office already?” Clove asked, as Bea turned around. She shook her head, glancing down at her watch before smiling back up at Clove.

“Not quite, schools about to start right? We should get going.” Bea stated, shutting off the stove and moving towards the front door as Clove stared at her in confusion.

“School isn’t for another hour?” She exclaimed, but Bea was already out the door. Grabbing her fork, Clove ate the rest of her toast quickly, before grabbing her backpack and following her mom down to the parking lot.

She was soon standing in front of Poppy, Bea, and Oliver who was holding something in his tiny hands. Standing beside them, was a sleek black 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback.

Clove’s jaw dropped, approaching her family as Bea gestured excitedly towards the car. “Happy Birthday Clover!” Bea exclaimed as Poppy and Oliver did a little clap. Clove approached slowly, circling the car of her dreams as she ran a careful hand over its sleek exterior.

When she finally stopped her circling, she turned back to her family as Poppy gently pushed Oliver forward. He outstretched his hand, showing Clove a pair of car keys as he smiled up at her.

She leaned down, taking them from her little brother while giving him a brief hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Clove exclaimed, moving past Oli and throwing her arms around Poppy who was a little taken aback, but quickly wrapped her arms around her daughter.

“You’re welcome, Love. Just… promise to be careful.” Poppy mumbled against Clove’s ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek before they parted. Clove moved to hug Bea, who went in to spin her a little as Clove laughed.

“It’s brand new, so treat it well Clove.” Bea smiled as Clove nodded excitedly, glancing over at the new car before turning towards her moms.

“Wait, can I-”

“Yes, you can drive it to school. Just meet us at 5:30 at Eleven Madison Park.” Bea said, throwing an arm around Poppy’s shoulders as Oliver waddled back over to his moms. Poppy bent down to pick the boy up, but he was getting heavier as he hugged Poppy.

“Holy shit!” Clove exclaimed happily, running to the side of the car as Poppy gave her a stern look while Bea laughed. “Sorry, I mean thank you… again. I’ll see you at dinner! Love you!” Clove smiled, unlocking the car as she took a seat inside. It had a lighter brown leather interior, a sleek radio and interface attached to the dashboard and there was even a little Clover keychain hanging from the overhead mirror.

She pressed the button, the car’s engine beginning to rev as she waved goodbye to her family, slowly pulling out of the parking lot and down the streets of New York.

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

“Sheesh, your moms actually bought you your dream car?” Sally asked, undoing her locker as Clove unlocked her own.

“I know! They were being so suspicious about it at first, but she’s sitting out front right now!” Clove exclaimed as she grabbed her textbook. Even Pre-Cal couldn't ruin her mood.

“You’ll have to take me on a drive sometime. I’m glad you finally passed your exam, by the way. I was wondering if I would have to carpool you everywhere.”

“Ha Ha.” Clove rolled her eyes as she stashed her book in her bag. She had three more classes to attend, a four hour dance practice, and then she would have to drive on down to her favorite restaurant in the city. Just thinking about her car made Clove giddy as she waved goodbye to Sally who was currently on a different schedule. At least the two still met for lunch on most days.

Sliding down the halls, Clove stopped in front of the large double doors of her classroom, reaching to open them just as another figure approached. Smelling exactly like jasmine and coffee, Erin stood tall as she waited where Clove was reaching for the doors. Clove looked up, locking eyes with Erin who raised a sharp brow.

“Are you going to move?” She asked as Clove dropped her hands, moving slightly away from the door handles as she stood up straighter. Erin moved to grab the handles as Clove cleared her throat.

“You’re looking nice today Erin.” Clove said as Erin shot her a glare.

“Great, what do you want now?”

“I can’t compliment you when I think you look nice?”

“Not when you obviously want something.” Erin commented as Clove shrugged.

“Okay, you're probably right. In case you didn’t know, it’s my birthday today.”

“Congratulations. You want a candle or something?” Erin asked, dropping her hold on the handle as she moved closer to Clove who took a step back as some more students went to enter the classroom. Clove could smell the jasmine perfume stronger now as she glanced up at Erin who was about three inches taller than her. It may have hurt Clove’s pride just a little at their height difference, but she didn’t let it distract her for too long.

“Actually, I do want something from you.” Clove smirked up at the platinum blonde who scoffed.

“I’ll regret this, but what the hell could you want from me?”

“Well, I obviously don’t want to spend my birthday at school and I like to mess with you, so I want to kill two birds with one stone.” Erin grimaced.

“Sorry, I guess I should switch to vegetarian terms for you. I want to… harvest multiple potatoes at once?” Clove tried, blinking to herself slowly as Erin fought the smile that threatened to show on her lips.

“What do you want?” Erin asked again as Clove shook herself out of her daze. She has to come up with a better phrase than that.

“Ditch school with me.” Clove simply said as Erin gasped. As if the very idea itself was a disgrace.

“What? Hell no.” She said sternly as Clove wiggled her brows.

“You want to though. Besides, we’ve got exams next week, so all the classes are just reviewing. Missing one day won’t kill us.”

“I have a perfect record, Clove.” Erin hissed as Clove shrugged.

“So do I, but I’m bored and you’re the only person available. All the other girls have different schedules than me.”

“Take one of your boyfriends.”

“Would you believe me if I said they had different schedules too?” Clove asked as Erin sternly shook her head.

“I’m not doing this. Happy Birthday I guess, but you can leave me out of it.” She turned on her heel as Clove ran up to her, standing in front of the doors as Erin rolled her eyes.

“C’mon Erin! You’re so stuck up, don’t you wanna live like a teenager for at least one day?”

“I don’t know what you consider as “living like a teenager,” but being a delinquent shouldn’t be a qualification.”

Clove went quiet as Erin stared her down. The classroom behind her had just begun to fill with students and soon, the two definitely couldn't get away. Clove bit her lip, before a bright idea shot through her thick skull.

“Rock, paper, scissors.” She said, holding out one hand as Erin’s eyes widened before she took a deep breath.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were turning sixteen, not four.”

“If you’re so confident, ice queen, then play a game with me. If I win, you ditch with me and do whatever I say, if you win… I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the school year.” Clove challenged as Erin furrowed her brows.

“Are you serious?” She asked, clenching her fist as Clove nodded.

“Yea, totally. Let’s go. Two out of three.” She held out her fist as Erin sighed, holding up her’s a minute later. Clove counted down, maybe she was a little nervous as she watched Erin who looked down at their hands.

“Rock, paper, scissors.” Clove said, holding out a rock while Erin held out scissors. Clove smiled, readying her hand again as Erin rolled her eyes.

“Rock, paper, scissors.” Erin held out paper while Clove held out… a rock.

“Okay, we’re tied. Last one.” Clove smirked as Erin avoided eye contact.

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

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

“Do you want the hood down?” Clove asked as Erin glanced around nervously. She was doing her best to try and hide her platinum blonde hair as she ducked her head a little low.

“Fuck you Clove. Just pull out of the stupid parking lot.” Erin hissed, silently hoping that no one would notice she was gone as Clove shrugged. She had dropped the hood anyway, rolling away from the parking lot and taking down the streets of New York.

She had lost the game of rock, paper, scissors after Clove beat her with another rock after Erin had pulled out scissors. Now, she was sitting in Clove’s new car which… was actually pretty nice.

Clove glanced over at Erin, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out the side as Erin looked away from Clove and out of the small window in the front. “If you crash, I’ll come back to haunt you so put both hands on the steering wheel.” Erin said as Clove pouted, placing her hands back on the black wheel as the two took several streets through New York.

“So, aren’t you curious about what I want you to do?” Clove asked, stopping at a red light as she looked at Erin. Erin only shook her head, focusing straight ahead as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Not really. All of your ideas will probably result in criminal charges and if you didn’t want to spend your birthday at school, you sure as hell don’t want to spend it in jail.” Erin commented as Clove laughed, ruffling a hand through her chocolate locks as she nodded.

“You’re probably right. Getting you to run down the streets of New York in your underwear would probably be too much for an afternoon. You wouldn't be the first New Yorker to do it though.” Clove smirked as Erin finally looked at her, glaring with her beautiful blue eyes as Clove smiled.

“If you don’t have actual plans, let’s go back to school.” Erin said as Clove shook her head, stepping on the gas as she glided down the streets of New York.

“Phft, I’ve got a plan MD, just sit back and relax. You can turn on some music if it helps, but please, no classical stuff.” Clove murmured as Erin kept her hands to herself. They rode down the streets, wind whipping around them as Clove fought to steal a glance at Erin. Her long platinum hair was flying behind her, the sight a little too pretty as Erin kept facing forward. She was probably ignoring Clove, but that was okay. She couldn't do it for the whole afternoon.

Turning back to the street, Clove quickly turned, almost missing the signal as she slowed to a stop. She carefully parked in one of the empty slots, before unbuckling her seat. She stepped out as Erin followed her.

Erin was looking around as Clove began to walk, the blonde trailing behind as she glanced to the side. “Is this where you murder me MH?” Erin asked, the typical snark in her tone as Clove shrugged.

“This is a shabby place to off someone Erin. Don’t you watch true crime documentaries?” Clove asked as they approached one of the smaller buildings near the area. Clove reached for the door, holding it open for Erin as the blonde stepped in.

“Welcome to Bonnetts.” Clove smiled, waving at the store keeper who was currently sweeping around the place. Bea had taken Clove to this place ever since she was a little girl. It was somewhat close to the Rensler building and when it was Bea’s turn to take Clove home, they would often stop by the small store and order a hamdog with exactly twelve french fries.

Erin stared in horror at the small hole in the wall store. While not the most appealing, their food was pretty delicious as Clove approached the counter. “Hey, one hamdog, one veggie dog, and twenty four french fries.” She told the man in front as he nodded, walking away to the back as Erin was still staring speechless at the store.

“Careful, flies might fly into your mouth.” Clove said, looking around at the knock off food items as Erin glanced at Clove.

“Do you actually eat this stuff?” Erin asked, glancing down at some item called pickle ranch soup.

“Well, some of the stuff is obviously nasty, but some of it can be quite tasty. My mom used to take me here when I was little.”

“Okay, well what the hell is a hamdog anyway? And please tell me the veggie dog is just a regular burger.” Erin asked, slowly picking up a huge red lollipop. She turned it over in her hands as Clove shrugged.

“It's a hotdog stuffed with ground beef wrapped in a hamburger bun. They add some lettuce and some really good cheese. The veggie dog is basically a cucumber I think, with the lettuce and the cheese attached.” Clove said as she could feel her mouth watering just by the thought of the meal. Not the veggie one, obviously.

Erin scrunched up her nose in disgust, dropping the lollipop as she stepped around the small store carefully. “And twenty four fires exactly?”

“That’s always how many my mom told me to order. I figure something bad happens if you eat more than twelve of your own.” Erin scoffed at the ridiculousness of the statement, flicking one of the small pinwheels attached to a bottle as she glanced at Clove over the small section of food.

“This place is awful, Clove.” Erin said, but the girl couldn’t fight the curiosity in her tone as Clove shrugged.

“Just try the food at least. It’s good, I swear.” The bell overhead dinged, the man coming back with their order as Clove took the bag, handing him a twenty dollar bill as she gestured for Erin to follow. The blonde took a second, holding something up to the man, before she followed behind Clove who was walking quickly down the sidewalk.

They walked a few minutes in silence, until Clove stopped in front of a large concrete block sitting in a shady corner of the area. She set the food down on the large block, hosting herself up and taking a seat. Erin frowned, looking up at Clove who was swinging her legs like a child before she held out a hand for Erin.

She ignored it, hoisting herself up and taking a seat on the block. It wasn’t far from the ground, but from the distance, it looked like a mini stage as Clove undid the box of food. She took a second to count the fries, separating them perfectly as Erin rolled her eyes.

Finally, Clove slid Erin her own half of the box, an interesting looking piece of bread sitting in the container as Clove took a large bite from hers. “This is better than I remembered.” Clove mumbled, eating her fries as Erin tentatively picked hers up. It was definitely a cucumber, which looked like it had been stuffed to its top with a carrot and ranch dressing. Wrapped in the bread, it looked pretty gross, but Erin shrugged her shoulders, tentatively taking a bite before setting it down a second later.

“Yea, I’m not finishing that.”

“You can have some of mine, but it is full of meat.” Erin rolled her eyes again, taking off the top of the hamburger and throwing the bread at some of the pigeons who had found their way over to the two girls. They, unlike Erin, ate it happily.

Erin reached for a single fry, taking a bite and actually swallowing it. “Okay, the fries are better.” She stated as she continued to munch on them. Clove nodded, finishing her hamdog in record time as she finished her fries before Erin did.

She clapped her hands together, watching the pigeons peck around at the vegetables and bread Erin had thrown them as she finally finished up her fries.

“So, rating?” Clove asked, looking at Erin who was pushing her hair to rest over one shoulder. Clove could never understand the desire to have really long hair. Sure, it looked pretty on some people, but she preferred her hair shorter, not Bea’s length short, but at most to her shoulders. Though, it looked pretty nice on Erin.

“Like a four.” She said as she looked down at her filed down nails. “Though, maybe they just don’t get many vegetarians in that shack.”

“How come you’re a vegetarian anyway? I’m sure it’s better for dancing, but you don’t really love the taste of carrots, right?” Erin shook her head, pocketing her hands in her coat she wore as she looked off in the distance.

“I guess it’s because my dad once took me to a processing plant when I was seven for a… bonding moment. I saw how they made the burgers and…” She trailed off, shivering at the thought as Clove raised her brows. “Anyway, I don’t like the taste of meat very much.” She stated simply as Clove nodded.

She glanced down at the pigeons who were still scattered around them, before glancing behind her and pointing at the stage. “This could be a pretty cool place to have a concert.” Clove said, standing up and brushing off her slacks as Erin turned to look at Clove who was currently walking around the concrete block.

It certainly didn’t look like much, but it had a sturdy surface and it was large and tall enough to be used as a stage. “Just imagine a few lights right where you’re sitting. A full crowd out in the center, and a huge disco ball up on top!” Clove smiled, pointing at each imaginary feature as Erin rolled her eyes. She stood too, watching Clove who was slowly waltzing through a few makeshift steps.

“Please, no one would even be able to find this place. It’s so hidden in the city.” Erin stated as she glanced around. Clove chuckled, doing a small leap in her sneakers as she looked back at Erin.

“You’re probably right, but you can still imagine it’d be a nice place to have a show.”

“Hmm, from the stage of Thatcher-Heart to a mere concrete block? How the mighty have fallen…”

Clove rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone and typing in some music. She slipped out of her blazer, displaying her white dress shirt as she loosened her tie as well. Setting her phone down, some soft waltz music came through the speaker as she cleared her throat.

Clove extended her hand out to Erin, bowing a little as she smiled. “May I have this dance?”

“Oh my gosh, no way.” Erin smiled, before biting her lip.

“C’mon. I won rock, paper, scissors.”

“You also tried to kill me with that veggie dog, so I think we’re even.” Erin smirked, before looking back down at Clove’s offered hand.

“The music is going to quit soon and it’s bad luck to leave a dancer hanging.”

“We’re ballet dancers, Clove.”

“I know how to waltz though. My mom taught me.” Clove smiled, remembering Poppy going through multiple steps with her one night when they were preparing to head to a charity ball. Clove wouldn't have been asked to dance that night, but she wanted to know the steps anyway since Poppy had apparently taught Bea as well.

Erin sighed, before she slipped off her own blazer, throwing it down next to Clove’s before taking the girl’s offered hands. Clove took her palm, soft to the touch as she pressed herself a little closer.

“I’ll lead, yea?” Clove asked as Erin slowly nodded, looking shyly at Clove’s face as they were only a few inches apart. Placing her hand on Erin’s waist, Clove led Erin’s hand to her shoulder, feeling the comfortable weight before beginning to guide the girl into steps.

“It’s kind of like a box. I’m going to step forward and you’ll step back. I’ll step to the side and you’ll follow me.” Clove murmured, keeping her eyes trained on Erin’s face as Erin ducked her head down to watch their steps.

The waltz music sounded in the background as Clove tsked, squeezing Erin’s hand gently as the girl glanced back up. “You gotta focus on your partner. Don’t watch your feet.” She said as the two began to waltz.

Erin, unsurprising to no one, was a quick learner, quickly matching Clove’s pace as they waltzed around the concrete block. She didn't look Clove directly in the eye, but Clove could see the hint of a smile on Erin’s face as they waltzed.

She fit almost perfectly against Clove, hand against her shoulder as they moved gracefully around the makeshift stage. Feeling the soft skin of Erin’s palm, Clove felt her heart quicken at the touch, the gentle smell of Erin’s perfume, before Clove blinked slowly. As the music faded out, Clove didn’t think much of it, she pushed Erin back as the girl’s eyes widened.

A move Clove had learned easily when she was little took an unexpected turn when Erin resisted the pulling back, causing both girls to topple when Clove pulled too hard as Erin tripped and fell onto Clove!

“Oof!” Clove exclaimed, feeling Erin fall directly onto her as the waltz music came to a crescendo.

Silence followed, Erin lying directly on top of Clove who looked up at the platinum blonde. Her long hair fell around the two like a curtain as Clove only let out an exhausted sigh. She glanced at Erin who might have been blushing before Clove let out a laugh.

Unexpectedly, Erin followed her, laughing at the situation as she pulled back, sitting on her knees as Clove pushed herself onto her elbows.

“That did not end how I expected it to.” Clove laughed as Erin nodded, smiling at Clove softly as she looked at the brunette. She looked like she wanted to say something, but instead, Erin moved towards her blazer, reaching in and pulling out something.

She walked back to Clove, taking a seat on the concrete as she handed Clove something. Taking it in her palm, Clove looked down at the red lollipop that Erin had held previously at Bonnetts.

“...For your birthday.” Erin mumbled as Clove smiled down at her palm. She nodded, looking up at Erin who was avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks, Erin.” Clove said as the blonde shrugged.

“You would have given me so much crap if I didn’t get you something.” She justified as Clove laughed. She was obviously right, unsurprising to no one.

Leaning back on her hands, Clove placed the lollipop in her pocket, grinning wide as Erin sighed. The two sat in silence once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite actually. Clove was actually… enjoying hanging out with Erin. “C’mon, let’s walk around for a bit.” Clove said, standing up and offering her hand for Erin to take.

This time, the girl accepted.

The two walked around for a while, hopping back in the car and driving around the city and just reveling in the peaceful silence.

Sometime later, Erin checked her watch, tsking as she looked at Clove. “It’s already 5. I didn’t think we'd been out that long.” She said as Clove nodded, turning down a street before sharply inhaling. She glanced at Erin when they hit a red light, watching the girl who looked a whole lot more comfortable as Clove could feel the small bulge of the lollipop in her pocket.

“...Do you wanna come to my birthday dinner?” Clove asked quickly as Erin raised a brow, glancing at the brunette who restarted her engine, driving down the street as she avoided glancing at Erin.

“You mean the dinner you never invite anyone to except Sally?” Erin asked as Clove shook her head.

“I’m not inviting inviting you, but I’m pretty sure I’m your only ride home and I can’t be late cause my moms will confiscate my car.” Erin snorted a laugh as Clove turned down a street.

She was already heading towards the restaurant, but she was keeping aware of any exits in case Erin really didn’t want to go.

A minute later, Erin nodded, sighing as she glanced at Clove. “Sure, let’s go.” She said simply as Clove felt her heartbeat quicken at the girl’s tone.

Soon, Clove was adjusting her blazer as Erin adjusted her own in the Eleven Madison Square Parking Lot. Nothing scandalous, but when Erin stepped closer to straighten Clove’s tie, Clove felt herself fighting off a deep blush as she cleared her throat.

“Thanks… for today.” Clove said as Erin nodded. Clove expected some quick remark, but instead Erin just smiled softly. The look was a little unusual on the girl’s face, but ridiculously gorgeous.

“It’s a one time thing, MH, but… it wasn’t awful.”

“And to think you would have never gone if you didn’t suck at rock, paper, scissors.” Clove teased as the two walked up towards the swanky restaurant. Already, several cars were piled in the front, some of the valets helping the guests as Clove spotted her moms standing out in the front with Bea holding Oliver.

She waved to them, gesturing for Erin to follow as the two approached. Poppy, wearing a stunning blue dress, glanced at Erin, raising a sharp brow as Bea smiled at the platinum blonde.

“Hello Erin. I didn’t think you would be coming.” Bea said, rocking Oliver before spotting Zoey and Veronica’s car pull up. She excused herself, walking over to the car as Poppy looked at Clove.

“I… wanted to bring a plus one.” Clove smiled as Poppy sighed, closing her eyes for a split second before glancing at Erin.

“It’s nice to see you again Erin.” Poppy said kindly as Erin nodded, nervously fiddling with her blazer as she smiled politely.

“You as well Mrs. Min-Hughes.”

Soon, Clove’s party had taken off. The now sixteen-year old received many gifts from her family and friends, but the one gift in her pocket was probably one of the best she had gotten that day.

When she received a large kiss to her cheek from Ana Min, one of her grandmothers, Clove caught Erin’s eye as the girl was looking at her with a simple expression. Clove knew social settings weren’t really Erin’s thing, so when the crowd went on to chatter about adult things while Sally retreated to the restroom, Clove slid up to Erin who was sitting in the chair next to the birthday girl.

“How are you feeling?” Clove asked as Erin shrugged, looking around at the happy table before turning her attention back to Clove.

“Your family throws a nice party.” She stated as Clove chuckled.

“Yea, I guess, but… I kinda just liked spending the day with you.” The admittance was a little sudden for Clove as Erin slipped a little from her position of her palm holding her chin. Her eyes were a little wide when she looked at Clove who held up the lollipop she stashed in her pocket.

She unwrapped it, popping it in her mouth and smiling over at Erin. “I do mean that, by the way.” She added as Erin bit her lip. Clove turned her attention back to her party, expecting their conversation to end as she shifted the lollipop in her mouth.

She sucked on the cherry lollipop, surprised at how good it tasted before feeling something shift under the table. She glanced down at her hand which was now covered by Erin's. Her ears probably blushed red as she turned her palm slowly, letting Erin interlock their fingers as the two glanced at each other.

Erin simply smiled, squeezing Clove’s hand just a little as the party around them faded into background noise. “...I know you meant it.” She whispered, keeping her hand intertwined with Clove’s for the rest of the party.

[wizardlyghost]

- ok confession: i played a bit a couple of days ago but didn’t post because of life in general, so this is gonna be a little vague. here’s the highlights though.

- apparently if you try to REVERSE PICKPOCKET a PRESENT into a friendly character’s pocket every other friendly person in town ATTACKS YOU ON SIGHT, no matter how many times you’ve saved their asses. rude.

- yes i forgot that you can just trade items with npcs. fight me.

- MAMA MURPHY didn’t even acknowledge the ANTI-ADDICTION CURE-ALL that i spent ages scouring the wasteland for ingredients to make anyway. i’m feeling a little underappreciated here.

- upgrading my CALEDFWLCH 10 CALIBRE PISTOL levelled up my relationship with CODSWORTH to the point where he TOLERATES me. tf did he feel about me before??? ungrateful bowling ball. i BUILT your ass motherfu- ah hell i sound like my parents. let’s move on.

- there seems to be an entity known as  the MIRELURK QUEEN. here is a reenactment of the moment i discovered this fact:

-gAAAAAAHSONOFABITCHONTOASTSHITSHITBALLSFUCKCUNTMOTHERHELLJESUSHDICKONASTICKAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

- in a noble display of mercy i elected to let it live and went elsewhere immediately.

- i found what seems to be a ROBOT RACETRACK relatively nearby, guarded (staffed?) by RAIDERS and TRIGGERMEN.

- the name TRIGGERMEN seems really familiar but i can’t remember hearing anything specific about them. when i saw the tag pop up i thought that they were maybe an ALLIABLE FACTION, but they pretty much immediately opened fire on my ass when they saw me, so i’m assuming they’re just hostile.

- i managed to hack the ROBOTS (god i love hacking in this game) and stop their seemingly endless race around the track. i can’t seem to find a non-violent program for them that doesn’t just power them down in the middle of the track. they look kinda sad, just standing there deactivated :(. maybe if i find the (possibly late) PROFESSOR GOODFEELS i can reprogram them with a “JUST BE” mode? i’d prefer to free them entirely, but it beats being used as weapons and/or raced like greyhounds.

- joined the BROTHERHOOD OF STEEL. neither of PALADIN DANSE’s friends seems to like me. really not digging the military vibes of this thing but i’ll win them round never fear.

- broke into an ELECTRONICS STORE full of more DEACTIVATED ROBOTS. i spent like half an hour slowly sneaking around the place, paranoid that as soon as they were all between me and the door they were going to come to life and attack me. nerve wracking.

- i did end up getting attacked in the deepest basement, but instead of a ROBOT my assailant was a... LEGENDARY RADROACH? RADROACHES can be legendary?? people are telling stories about RADROACHES that they didn’t immediately kill??? i have so many questions.

- it only took one bullet though, so it wasn’t that legendary. more impressive was how it had a POISONED 10 CALIBRE PISTOL hidden under its carapace. i really wish there was a mechanic for it to have tried to use that on me, the image of a RADROACH WITH A GUN is making me giggle so hard.

- rescued a HOSTAGE, found some more O.S.H.A. VIOLATIONS. hacked a TERMINAL that only gave me 11 password options instead of 12, spent a long time scanning and rescanning the screen convinced that i’d missed one. i think that’s about the scope of what i accomplished. til next time i guess.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 2

Shigaraki Birthday Celebration! 18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, brief male masturbation, tags will be added for smut in the next two parts

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which studying is done, unwilling connections are made, and Tomura thinks about the way you smell a totally normal amount. 

AO3 mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg​ (just shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen. 

He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library.  But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him. 

He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering. 

Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant. 

Group Project Bitch:

— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back

—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T

                                                                                                     sounds good— 

He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating. 

When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right? 

He wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t do shit like this. 

Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches. 

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.” 

He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager. 

“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door. 

Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors. 

You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit. 

Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor. 

You made a fucking power point for him. 

This couldn’t be real. 

“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…” 

You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in. 

It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga. 

He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations. 

But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts. 

“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him. 

Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen. 

“Look’s fine,” he mumbled. 

The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for. 

It was...good. 

And that so fucking annoying. 

Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids. 

Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and— 

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.” 

He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him. 

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to. 

You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday. 

“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze. 

The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into. 

“What’s your major?” 

He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before. 

You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear. 

Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment. 

But, obviously you didn’t. 

So he didn’t. 

He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—

Nope. 

No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut. 

Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side. 

“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case. 

“Are you talking about The League?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.  

He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings. 

The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger. 

Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought. 

“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone. 

You should narrate those fucking sleepy time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much. 

Or no, no he would definitely mind. 

Yes. It would have been worse if anything. 

“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.” 

He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room. 

Weird. 

So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. 

This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at. 

Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit after all. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion.

Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere? 

Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word. 

Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head. 

The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard. 

It...grew on him. 

He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session. 

Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack. 

“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room. 

“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing. 

Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly. 

“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction. 

Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous. 

“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.” 

“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly. 

“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin study room whenever I want.” 

“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.” 

“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”

Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.” 

“Jokes on you, I welcome death.” 

You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward. 

But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers. 

“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.” 

The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.

He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations. 

So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach. 

But it was only because you were hot. 

And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background. 

Yeah. 

Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough. 

Right?

[danieyells]

How do i fit in with other kids? Because there's this group of kids that are talking about pokèmon and anime, the exact things that i like, but i dont know how to join them. Im afraid to ask. ;-;

Admittedly, I'm not the best person to ask. I wasn't one to fit in after like. 12 years old and I mostly stuck to myself save for online friends I mostly got through roleplaying, commenting on fanart and fanfic. When I did get a friend group in person/at school it was similar kids talking about anime and stuff, but I don't remember how I approached them about it.

But the thing that must have worked, whether on my end or theirs, is that someone just started talking. It's scary, it's nerve-wracking, I know it is, but the worst that happens is that they don't respond well or that you have to keep approaching and bringing things up yourself.

If they have anything like. Keychains, folders, backpacks, clothes, anything merch related that's of things you're familiar with, point them out and compliment them on it! Ask where they got it, or ask if they also watch/play the related series. (Like yeah they probably do just based on that they'd have something related to it but it gets things started.) "Did you see the latest episode" or "did you hear about [related news]" or "who's your favorite character" or "how far are you in the game"--those're also good conversation starters.

(if you've got merch or other things you can show off a bit, try doing it yourself! They may approach you on their own!)

You could just go up to one of them(or all of them) when they're not talking and say you overheard them talking about it and let things move naturally from there. Don't worry too much about holding questions back. Questions keep conversations going.

You can also just approach them while they're already talking and ask if they're talking about Pokémon/the anime they're talking about--a confirmation sort of thing--once you've expressed the same interest you've got a foot in and can just. Join in on the conversation probably!

It's super scary I know lol but. . .you've really gotta just bite the bullet and do it. Chances are if you're into the same things they'll be happy to have you.

Don't rush yourself but try to put your worries aside, too. Humans are pack animals--I don't see why they wouldn't be willing to talk to you if you have the same interests. And if things don't work out at first, it's okay to try again, to say hi everyday and see if things stick over time. You can apologize for interrupting if you just kinda jump in, but don't apologize for existing or wanting to make friends. 👍🏾

Good luck!!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍

[werewolfdays]

3 for fluffy prompts with nadya and jade?

ok first of all, I may have totally spaced on the prompts people sent in, but I am working on them again so don’t worry! here’s one I got to finish today! a lil snippet -

3. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

I was one of the last wolves to come into the clearing that was the entrance to the Lodge. The familiar warm wooden structure was a welcome sight. Some decided to just shift back right here or retire into the Lodge itself, while others were reuniting with some of their pack members that were coming outside to greet them. Along with the relief that everyone was okay, was a relief that everyone seemed to be taking a possible breach to our secret safe haven seriously. The possibility of hunters finding this place was a worst case scenario that kept me up at night and I was glad we were able to avoid it this time. 

The graze on my side that I got from a stray silver bullet was starting to bother me a little more now that things were calm, but I was using all of my senses to look for Nadya, knowing that she would be looking for me too. She fought me hard to come with us, but I convinced her to stay. If someone got seriously hurt, we would need her here and not in the line of fire. I hoped that she would forgive me for leaving her and putting myself in danger. 

My senses finally zeroed in on Nadya in the crowd and I saw that she wasn’t alone. A familiar rust colored wolf was standing in front of her, sticking his nose out to inspect her. I wasn’t sure if Nadya knew that it was my ex, Henrik, but she still looked rightfully suspicious of the large werewolf inching closer to her personal space. I also wasn’t sure of Henrik’s intentions, he didn’t show any signs of aggression, but I still wasn’t okay with it. Especially with how uncomfortable Nadya’s demeanor became. My hackles rose and my wolf became furious at his unwanted proximity to her. Too close, was the only thought in my mind as I swiftly trotted over to them.  

A low warning growl rumbled in my throat once I got within a few feet of them. Both of their gazes snapped in my direction and I positioned myself in front of Nadya, causing Henrik to back up a few paces. He looked at me indignantly as if to say, Really? I flashed my fangs in answer, snarling more threateningly so he would get the point and piss off. Really. 

Nadya’s hand ran over the thick fur on my back like she was trying to flatten my raised hackles, “It’s fine, Jay.” she said calmly and my ears twitched back towards her voice. The unease I sensed from her told me that it wasn’t as fine as she wanted me to believe. “Let’s just go back to our room.” 

Henrik’s eyes only left mine to glance behind me and at his displeased expression, I took a moment to check over my shoulder. Skye, in her mottled light brown and grey wolf form, and Toby, in his black as night wolf form, moved to flank me. They took up protective positions on either side of Nadya, both of them bristling at Henrik like I was. Being backed up by my pack only increased my confidence and I faced my ex again. 

I watched his snout twitch in an almost snarl and it’s a damn good thing he restrained himself because I didn’t have the patience to let his attitude towards us slide right now. To give him one last warning, I snapped my jaws without advancing. I wasn’t interested in starting a fight, I just wanted him to leave Nadya alone and I hoped that the message was received because I would be more forceful if I had to be. Henrik shook his ruff, throwing all of us a wolfish scowl before turning to walk away. 

It wasn’t until he was gone that I realized we gained a small audience of people and wolves watching the scene in case there was a more physical confrontation. Once the air became less thick with tension, Toby and Skye relaxed and I regarded them thankfully. Knowing that I wasn’t the only one willing to protect Nadya filled me with ease. My gaze drifted over to her, noticing the way her shoulders seemed to release their nervous tension with a sigh. I gently bit her sleeve, giving it a tug so she would follow me into the Lodge.

Nadya was silent until we were alone in the halls. “Wonder what that was about…” she mumbled, her tone giving me the impression that she somehow did know it was Henrik.

I didn’t know the answer to that, but also didn’t really care as long as it didn’t happen again. Still worried that Nadya was left feeling uncomfortable, I let out a short and quiet whine, looking up at her as we walked. 

She smiled at me, petting my back. “Don’t worry, I’m not too bothered by it.” 

I took her for her word, sensing that her nerves really had calmed, and we spent the rest of our walk in silence until we got home. As soon as Nadya shut the door behind us, I started to shift back. The usual aches and pains wracked my body, along with the moment of vertigo, and then I was in human form again. I saw that Nadya laid out clothes on the bed for me so I started to get dressed. My eyes wandered over to where she was standing and watching me by the desk while I shimmied into some pants and I smirked at the way she was scanning my body. 

“You’re bleeding.” she reminded me as I was about to shrug my flannel on.

I paused to glance down at the shallow gash. It wasn’t technically bleeding anymore, there was just a fresh scab beginning to form. “It’s just a scratch.” I told her nonchalantly and pulled the flannel on.

Nadya grabbed her glasses, putting them on and coming over to study the wound. “Maybe we’ll just clean it.” she pondered aloud while she held my unbuttoned shirt open, “Anything else wrong with you?” 

I couldn’t hold back a crooked grin, “Like, physically, or..?”

She pulled me into a fierce embrace and I gathered that she had been wanting to do that since she saw that I came home alive. I wrapped my arms around her too, burying my face in her neck to inhale her scent because I knew that feeling of relief all too well. “I told you I’d be fine.” 

“I would’ve been more sure of that if I went with you.” Nadya pulled back, cupping my face and carefully taking in my features, “Let me protect you like you protect me.” 

“Nadya, you already do.” I placed my hands on her wrists. Not to pull her away, just to touch her, “All the damn time. I know how capable you are. The thing is… if I see an opportunity to spare you from violence, I have to take it.” 

She sighed, dropping her hands to settle them on my waist, “Oh, Jay…” 

“And I’m not saying that because I want to keep you ‘pure’ or I think you can’t handle it,” I added, reaching up to run my thumb along her jawline placatingly, “I only mean that I know how much you hate being in a situation like that and if you don’t have to be, then why should you?” 

“Jay?” Nadya repeated, stopping my rambling from continuing. 

“What?” I asked through an exhaled breath.

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” she more or less commanded.

There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to disobey her. 

My mouth crashed into hers and I hadn’t realized just how wound-up I’ve been today. With the stress of a fight and the terror of my loved ones being in danger, it didn’t cross my mind at all to pause for a breath. Kissing Nadya felt like the whole world stopped spinning just for us. Her lips were a desperately needed sanctuary of comfort and warmth. Along with a stirring hunger that the wolf that still lingered beneath my skin began to crave. 

Nadya must’ve read my mind because her arms wrapped around my neck at the very same time my hands gripped her waist to pick her up. I carried her to the bed, falling down on the mattress with her while trying to keep our kisses from becoming too sloppy. Her fingers began to tangle in my hair, her breath hitching when I broke away to nip at her jawline and then the soft flesh of her neck. I felt her pulse quicken against my tongue, her scent growing thicker all around me, and that’s when I felt my irises shift from blue to amber as she overtook all my senses. 

My fingers had just undid the button on her jeans when there was a knock on the door that halted our progress. An irritated growl escaped my throat, my golden eyes shooting a glare at the door like it was responsible for the interruption. Of course someone needed us when I was indulging in the fact that I was alive and home safe with my girlfriend. 

Nadya’s hand went to my shoulder, “Easy there.” she told me quietly. 

I looked down at her and saw the faintest smile on her lips, but knew she also meant what she said. So I made my eyes go back to their usual dark blue. “I’m good.” I promised.

“Hey, Nadya, just wondering if you could come down to the clinic and look at a few of the injuries from today?” the voice requested tentatively through the door, probably hearing my growl. 

“Oh, crap.” Nadya smacked her palm against her forehead, “Yeah I’ll head over there now, sorry!” 

I sighed, sitting up and buttoning her pants for her. “Duty calls, Doctor Bishop.” 

“I kinda like it when you call me that.” She replied in a joking tone, but I expected there was some truth to it. “I shouldn’t be too long.” 

“Better not be.” I said, watching her get out of bed. 

Nadya pointed at me as she reached for the door, “That graze better be cleaned before I get back.” 

I gave her a cheeky salute, “Aye-aye, doc.” 

She rolled her eyes at me and disappeared out the door. 

[raiswriting]

muse

request: art major!reader w law major!doyoung pls :cc bullet note format if u can!!!

a/n: he’s a year older than you but it doesn’t matter that much

warning: a few swear words oopsie

genre: fluffy college!au

pairing: doyoung x reader

summary: ummm basically just how you and doyoung meet and get to know each other

word count: 5.1k (oops)

lets GOOOOOOOO

okay so basically college has been a JOURNEY

people ALWAYS had some shit to say as soon as they found out you were an art major

it was usually “what are you going to do with that” “do you know how unsteady that career path is”

liKE I GET IT

do they really think they’re telling you something new????

oh I’m sorry your majoring in business Susan™ and you decide to throw away your passions just because some high school counselor told you that you wouldn’t be able to support yourself but IM going to make my passion a career

lol sorry I have a lot of feelings

now onto how you met your mans doyoung

your freshman and sophomore years, you had only seen him in passing

tbh you barely recognized him when you saw him more than once

you knew him as “that one dude that i always see in the dining hall wearing suits”

then junior year you got a job at the convenience store on campus (lets get this BREAD)

pls tell me it isn’t some weird niche thing that only my school has

aNyWHO he started coming in around 2 am right before closing

and ALWAYS picked up 3 coffees all of which had double shots of espresso

this happened about 2 or 3 times a week

(which is very unhealthy guys gals and nonbinary pals pls try to drink cold water instead, it helps wake me up or green tea)

so despite seeing him so often at work, he began to appear less and less everywhere else

were you lowkey kinda sad about it???

mAYhaPS

that was until winter quarter started

you needed an elective class, SO you figured ‘eh why not take philosophy’ you had heard around that the professor is really chill and overall the class wasn’t supposed to be that bad

WELL GUESS AGAIN

 because that really nice professor that everyone loved isn’t the one teaching the class this quarter

but hey you figured let’s go into this with an open mind and hope for the best

well on day one of this class (which is a 9 am by the way) guess who struts through the door

mister “that one guy i’d always see wearing a suit” who became mister “that one dude who always buys too much coffee at 3 am”

the man… the myth…… the legend………….MISTER KIM DOYOUNG

yep and ya boi decided to sit 2 seats down from you, it was too far to say hi or anything (esp bc you had never really spoken to him before) but like he was also just close enough for it to be awkward

so class went by normally you found out that the new professor wasn’t THAT bad but there was definitely gonna be a lot of work involved

so yeah life carries on as normal

you still see him all the time at the convenience store

one night it had been a particularly rough shift

your alarm didn’t go off, so you were running late, it had started to rain on your walk to work, and when you finally got there your manager apparently had someone piss in his cheerios because he had S U C H an attitude because you were

 TWO

MINUTES

LATE

you were sat behind the counter after what felt like hours of sweeping and mopping the floors

that’s when he walked in

you didn’t even lift your head to greet him as “hi, welcome” crawled itself out of your mouth

you did however notice when he sat his 3 cans of coffee in front of you

“hey your y/n right?”

 “that’s what it says on my nametag”

“haha yeah it does. i think i have you in my philosophy class”

when you finally met his eyes, you felt a little bad

you had kinda been giving him the cold shoulder for something that wasn’t his fault

 you gave him a little smile

“yeah i am. doyoung right?”

he nodded slightly

the air was a little awkward and silent as you scanned his coffees

as you handed him the receipt he asked “hey do you maybe want to study together sometime. i mean our test is in like two weeks and it’s a quarter of our grade so like if you were free we could hang out and get some work done?”

dUDE you froze

here he was standing right in front of you; messy hair, sweatpants, a sweatshirt repping your school logo and looking very nervous (but very attractive lmao)

i guess your reply took a little too long because he quickly started to back peddle

“i mean if you prefer to study alone that’s cool. i just always see you during lecture and you look like you understand the material and sometimes i get a little lost in terminology but if you don’t want to that’s fine too.”

you quickly snapped out of your haze

 “no, no. i would love to study with you. here let me give you my number so we can meet up. most of my classes are in the morning so any time after like noon should be fine.”

 you grabbed his receipt back and quickly scribbled your number on it before handing it back

“just text me when you want to get together”

 okay honestly you had never been one to give out your phone number just like that and you didn’t really like studying with people

but something about him made it so hard to say no

you just had this urge to get to know him

so when he texted you a few days later asking if you were free to study that night

of course you said yes

and it went pretty smoothly

he has a much better understanding of the material than he let on at first

he even ended up helping you understand a few things

you got together w few times over the next couple of weeks

each time you met you got to know each other more and more

yall quickly became friends

well yall became friends after the first night studying because lets be real it was awKWARD

like neither of you felt particularly comfortable yet because this was the first time you had actually hung out with each other despite knowing of each other’s existence for two years

oh yeah that’s something you found out after getting to know one another

 he had always seen you around campus and wanted to get to know you but never did because he thought it’d freak you out having a random stranger coming up to you like

‘hey I know you don’t know me but I see you all the time. let’s be friends.’

which isn’t THAT crazy but to each their own

okay but let’s jump to the time 2 days before your exam

you guys agreed to meet up at the library and the plan was to study for A WHILE just to make sure you were prepared ya know?

so like you get there and he was already sitting in a room waiting

 when you open the door he gets up to hug you

which he hasn’t ever done before

and like tbh he was really warm and smelled really nice like it his cologne wasn’t too strong, and it smelt sweet but also very inviting which isn’t really a scent but like do you get me? and he gave a really tight hug like the type that you didn’t want to let go of it felt as though you could stay there forever (this is also where you lowkey start having feelings for him but shhh because you don’t realize it yet)

so back the point

obvi you start studying and besides the hug nothing was really that different

you got through the material, quizzed each other, talked a bit

ya know the usual

time flew by and the next thing you know it’s 12:30 am and the library would be closing at 1 so you decide to wrap it up

“alright doyoung i’ll see you in class. get some rest before the test okay?”

 “yeah yeah i will” he rolled his eyes a little bit

 “seriously dude. i know you. go straight to sleep when you get back to your place”

he worried you sometimes. He really wanted to do well and the applications for law school were opening up soon, so he’s been kinda stressed no matter how much he tried to hide it and this test coming up isn’t helping

“i will. i promise.”

he walked you out of the library and you two would usually part ways and walk alone to your apartments

before you could turn and say goodbye doyoung was already speaking

“hey it’s a lot darker out here than usual”

you looked up at the pitch-black sky

“yeah I guess it is, oh well at least I have my pep-“

 “what? you have your pepper spray right?”

“no i forgot that i let my roommate borrow it. she’s going to a sorority thing and won’t be back until like 3 or 4. it’s fine though my apartment is only like a 10-minute walk. goodnight do”

“wait y/n. i’ll walk you back. it’s way too late and too dark for you to go home”

“no i couldn’t ask you to do that. you’re law and society class is at 8 am tomorrow so you need to get some sleep.”

 “well i won’t be able to sleep anyway if I’m staying up worried about you. so lead the way.”

despite the cold fall air, your face felt hot

like you know that it’s normal for friends to be worried about each other but that didn’t make doyoung saying it any less charming

the walk back was nerve wracking

you guys normally don’t hang out outside of the context of studying

so like this was weird, nice but weird

and once you go to your door there was a cast of silence

doyoung was just looking at you

normally it would make you kinda uncomfy/insecure but right now you were calm

there was something about looking into his eyes

the brown was so warm and inviting

after a few seconds of the comfortable silence, he finally looked away

and I awkwardly cleared my throat “thank you for walking me home doyoung”

 “of course, i’m just gald to know you got here safely”

“so um, i was gonna wish you luck just in case we don’t see each other before the test but i mean judging from our study session you won’t need it though.”

he giggled and i swear someone could have mopped up your heart because it was in a puddle on the floor

“shut up y/n. thank you though. i always appreciate your kind words. do you want to meet for lunch after the exam? i usually have a lab afterwards but it got cancelled so if you’re free we should meet up.” asjdjjklcbclkNCKDLSNCOS

“yeah i am free. i guess i’ll see you then.”

 he took a few steps back “yeah i guess you will. goodnight y/n”

“goodnight doyoung. actually get some sleep tonight, yeah?”

you could see his shoulders shake with laughter as he walked down the steps

to say you were smitten would be an UNDERSTATEMENT

the smile that showed up didn’t leave even after you fell asleep

when you get to class on that friday morning, doyoung is already sitting in his usual seat

the bags that usually take their place beneath his eyes are barely visible today

hopefully he took your advice and actually went to sleep

after the test you both got some burgers for lunch and just talked it had nothing to do with the test which was nice

i guess y’all make a great pair because once the scores came out, both of you got A’s

after that studying together became a routine

every tuesday, thursday and saturday leading up to the next test,  you guys would review or sometimes just hang out

it was a mutual decision to help each other study

even if you didn’t share the class, one would be there to quiz and make sure the other focused (most of the time it worked, other times you’d be the reason they got distracted and vice versa)

the two of you would go out for lunch on those days instead

as the quarter drew to a close and the break got nearer and nearer as did finals week

you and doyoung tried to keep up with your study schedule but it was getting harder

you had artwork due

you were particularly stressed over a sculpture that was assigned

your teacher gave you those choice of clay or marbleas a medium and clearly you chose clay

you were going to do marble but then you remembered the other 3 tests you need to prepare for and a portfolio that had to fit the theme of mythology

so basically you had a lot of art to produce and NO INSPIRATION like none, zero, zip, zilch, nada

you sat in the room you had reserved in the arts building

a pile of clay sat atop a slab of rock, a blank page of a sketchbook sat next to that

scrolling through pinterest had stopped working long ago and at this point you were losing hope

ring, ring, ring

doyoung’s name popped up on your screen

it was odd because you two usually texted for everything

“hey, do what’s up?”

“hi y/n i was just wondering if you wanted to grab some fro-yo. i just got out of another test and could use some company”

“ahh, doyoung i’m sorry but i’m stuck doing work. do you remember that mythology sculpture i told you about? well, it’s due next Wednesday and i haven’t even started on it yet”

his voice sounded so concerned “is everything okay? how are you doing?”

“i’m doing okay, just tired. i’ve been trying so hard but can’t find any inspiration” you sighed into the phone, looking out the window of your room

“what room are you in?”

“room 247 in building B. why?”

“just sit tight.”

the call ended before you could ask any more questions

okay when i tell yall it was less than five minutes and he was walking through the door just know that what i really mean is he rAN FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF CAMPUS TO COME COMFORT YOU

so yeah, he got there huffin and puffin, ready to blow your house down (with love)

“doyoung, what are you doing here?”

“well you were upset.” his tone was so matter-of-fact, and his eyes were so wide and innocent

honestly he looked so cute but like you were still very confused

what was he doing there?????

yeah you were upset but you also didn’t want to worry him

he casually walked over to a seat beside a window and pulled something out of his backpack

as he got closer and reached his hand out for you to take it, you noticed it was a sandwich

“it’s ham and cheese. light mayo, no lettuce or tomato”

when your eyes looked up at him he wouldn’t make eye contact

“you said this is the only way you take your sandwiches”

yALL 

you only told him this once in passing because he was eating a sandwich with mayo

but pls tell you are putting the pieces together

he stopped to get you food and made it across campus in 5 minutes

the walk alONE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN 10 MINUTES

HE STOPPED AND GOT YOU FOOD TO MAKE SURE YOU WEREN’T SKIPPING ANY MEALS

MARRY THID MANFSJDLFG

alrighty anywho

obviously you took the sandwich and spent 5 minutes thanking him for getting it for you

he sat back down in his seat near the window as you guys chatted for a bit

the conversation slowed slightly and you were able to just look at him

the light was bouncing off his face perfectly

his eyes looked like freshly brewed coffee. they were warm and inviting

his smile somehow managed to outshine the light pouring in

there he was

in all of his glory

your muse

your inspiration

his expression shifted to one of confusion

“y/n, why are you looking at me like that”

he could be your subject for not only the sculpture but also the portfolio as well

“okay this may be an odd favor and you can feel free to say no”

your leg couldn’t stop bouncing up and down and you thought your hands might catch a cramp from all the wringing they were doing

“don’t be silly. what is it?”

“well, i was thinking maybe you could be the model for my sculpture.”

 “of course i will but i thought it was supposed to be about mythology and i’m no greek god”

he chuckled a little bit

“shut up do. are you kidding me? your shoulders are like a mile wide. you have a great jawline and that smile? you’d have all the mortal girls falling for you i mean i did. that sounds like god-material to me”

he threw his head back laughing

mostly to hide the huge blush creeping up his cheeks

“okay, okay. i’ll pose for you. what do i have to do?”

“just sit still so that i can take some measurements of your face and then i’ll take some photos for reference afterwards.”

doyoung did as he was told for the most part

he sat there patiently

he kept peeking at your sketchbook as you laid out the rough ideas for a few of your other pieces

tbh you hadn’t even noticed

you were in the ZONE, you hadn’t been this inspired in a while and you wanted to take full advantage of it

you also hadn’t noticed the ,,,, um,,,, lack of space,,,,,, between the two of you

well doyoung had, to say the least

he sat there desperately hoping and praying that you wouldn’t notice how sharply he would breathe in everytime your hands touched his face to move its position

or that you couldn’t notice how much his hands were shaking and how he was constantly wiping them on his pants because they were very sweaty

finally, you had all the information you needed

as you stepped back and over to your chair in front of the clay, doyoung could finally breath

“doyoung, do you have any other classes today? i don’t want to keep you here if you have plans. you can go i can work off of the reference pictures”

he very vigorously shook his head

“no no, i’m free for the day.”

“okay. you should probably go get something to eat while get this started. this will probably be a long process.”

“yeah sure. do you want me to grab you anything while I’m gone?”

“nope i’m good. i already had the sandwich you brought me.”

“okay then i’ll be right back”

after he left it easy to feel the emptiness of the room

even though you were enveloped in your work it was still noticeable

the absence of his presence was palpable

the lack of it was almost suffocating

while you were worked on getting the basic shape and structure you found yourself unsettled

unable to get back into the ‘zone’ you found yourself in before

still, you pushed through the weird shift in the air, but it wasn’t long before doyoung came back with a bag of food

“hey doyoung.”

he glanced over at your pile of clay

“whoa. you made a lot of progress. okay i know you said that you didn’t want anything to eat but i brought burgers and some chips and stuff just in case.

“doyoung, you really didn’t have to. i would have been fine.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t reply. he simply sat back in his chair and ate some of the fries that came with his burger

the hours seemed to fly by once doyoung returned

it also helped that you played music on the speaker that you brought

before you knew it, it was 5 pm and the sun was setting

you leaned back from your chair to stretch before standing and taking a good look at the sculpture

after about 4 hours of work, you were almost done

of course there were still things that needed to be touched up, like the hair and the eyes

you had decided on a pose of doyoung looking up and off into the distance

you turned and washed your hands in the sink at the back of the room

“here’s your burger if you want it. it might be a little cold, but it doesn’t have any mustard, lettuce, tomato, or pickle. that’s how you like it right?”

YALL HE DID IT AGAIN

HE REALLY JUST OUT HERE BEIN A WHOLE SWEETHEART

“yeah, how’d you know?”

“remember we met up for dinner before a study session a few weeks ago? that’s how you ordered your burger and you told me about how dill pickles were the bane of your existence”

 “which they are” you chuckled “but i can’t believe you remembered that”

“of course, i did. i remember everything you tell me”

your heart melted for like the fiFTH TIME TODAY

you smiled and blushed before grabbing the wrapped burger from his hands

you guys sat and ate in comfortable silence

once you had finished you turned to him

“if you’re ready to leave you can. i just have a few things to add but it’ll be okay if you aren’t here. i’m just about out of daylight anyway.”

he playfully cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms

“y/n. i have a feeling you’re trying to get rid of me”

“maybe i am doyoung. whatcha gonna do about it?”

“cry.”

you both busted up laughing

once you had calmed down you looked at him

“seriously do. if you wanna go study or sleep or something go ahead”

he stood up and began to walk closer to you

“oh stop that. y/n it isn’t a burden for me to stay here with you. i’m honored that you would choose me to be the subject of your work and i love spending my time with you”

at this point he was standing right in front of you. looking down into your eyes.

there was no hiding the redness flushing your skin

after a few moments of silence, you looked back down at your hands

he speaks again as if you two hadn’t spent the past minute just staring into each other’s eyes

“so what next? are you gonna keep sculpting me or are you gonna draw and paint a bit?”

“ummm ,,, i kinda want to just finish the sculpture so that i don’t have to worry about it ya know?”

“yeah. where is the light switch?”

“right by the corner near the door”

as he flipped on the switch and light once again flooded the room

you were able to get a good look at the sculpture

despite it not being finished, you were still incredibly happy and proud of it

you sat back down in front of it ready to finish the work

it only took another hour or two to finish once you really got back into it

you spent the bulk of the time adding in all the little details

and you also decided last minute to add a wreath atop his head and the top of a toga

you took a final step back before sighing in relief

you were finished

you almost wanted to cry

while you were staring at the piece doyoung got up to stand behind you and look at it as well

“wow y/n. it’s beautiful.”

“well it’s you so i hope it is.”

LOOK AT YOU. BEING BOLD. OKAAYYYY

before he could say anything else, you walked back to the sink and while washing your hands, asked his help to put it in another room to dry for a few days before it goes into the kiln

“it’ll take a while to dry so i’m going to leave it here and head to bed”

“okay well i can walk you back to your apartment”

“alrighty”

okay so you grabbed all your stuff (with his help because doyoung is too nice to just walk beside you as you try carry 4 different bags filled with art supplies)

the walk back was kind of uneventful

you invited him in to drop all your things off before he headed out, not until you thanked him for spending the day with you and being your subject

okay so 2 weeks pass

you and doyoung meet up a few times because you need him to model a few poses for your portfolio

but FINALLY you finished your portfolio and sculpture and turned it all in

since then you have been relaxing, getting ready for winter break

well “relaxing” is a loose term

tbh you had been kinda stressed over the scores you were going to get on the artwork

and today, the day before the quarter ends, your professor would be handing back your portfolio & sculpture with a score

you decided to text doyoung after getting dismissed from class

y/n: “hey i get the score for my art project back today. do you want to meet up and we can find out together?”

doyoung: “oh my gosh yes. but are you sure you want me to be there?”

y/n: “of course do. you were such a big part of this, i couldn’t leave you out of it. besides you haven’t seen the finished portfolio”

doyoung: “okay. same art room as last time?”

y/n: “yep. i’ll see you in 20”

you were nervous. as you waited in the room, your legs couldn’t stay still so you decided to pace in hopes of calming yourself down

or at least having something to do

when he walked into the room, your eyes met

there was no hiding the frantic look in them either

“hey y/n. do you have it?”

you pulled a card from inside the front of your portfolio and set it down on the table

doyoung’s voice was soft and calming as he walked up to you

“can i look at it?”

he picked up the large folder

in a large gold print:

PROMETHEUS, he dies everyday but wouldn’t wish for any other way to spend eternity

“you chose me to represent Prometheus? what’s his story”

you began to recount the tale as doyoung slowly flipped through pages of your artwork

·         “well he was the youngest of the titans, which were the creators of greek gods. it was said that he was also the kindest. when he looked upon the earth and saw how the humans were struggling, Prometheus felt pity and decided to give them a gift. he gave them a divine secret of the gods. he gave them fire. he did this despite knowing that Zeus would punish him if he found out. which he did. the other titans and gods were furious, so they tied him to a rock near the sea. every day an eagle would come and rip out prometheus’ liver and he would die. every night it would grow back bringing him back to life. this torturous routine goes on every day and night and according to the myth it continues until this day, as it will forever.”

as you finished the story doyoung closed the folder

all he said was “wow”

it made you nervous. “so ,,,,, do you like it?”

“y/n. this is beyond words. this is amazing. and you chose me?”

“well yeah i mean. you two just seemed to fit each other. you are the kindest person i know. you’re very generous too. so really it wouldn’t have worked if i had chosen anyone else or any other myth.”

he said nothing. just set down your work and hugged you.

you embraced each other. sharing this moment.

“y/n no matter the score on the other side of that car, just know that your work is beyond incredible. not just because it’s of me”

you both laughed before he continued

“seriously. you are an amazing artist. your art moves people. it makes me feel emotions that i haven’t felt in a while. it takes me on a journey.”

he pulled back and gave you one last smile before grabbing the card off of the table

“on 3”

“….1”

“….2”

“….3!”

a 97 was written in bright red marker

“oh my gosh y/n”

you two jumped back into each other’s arms

the smile on your face was ear to ear. there was no way it was going to fade any time soon

“I knew you could do it.”

“not without you i couldn’t have,” you say leaning back slightly, your arms still around his neck

he rolls his eyes at you

“seriously doyoung. if you hadn’t come by that day i don’t know what i would have done. you were my muse”

his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist

your eyes would have met if his weren’t staring at your lips right now

“y/n.” he whispered

“doyoung?”

“can i kiss you?”

“absolutely”

FUCKING FINALLY

ahem sorry I got a little excited for you

it was great. what can i say

it was everything you expected to be

before you thought that the whole “fireworks” thing was just movies overexaggerating

 but NOW you can attest to that

the kiss with doyoung had so much built up tension and caring and passion and just wowza

when you finally pulled apart

both of you were slightly out of breath

doyoung still had this cute, dumb smile plastered on his face

he gave you a few more pecks

which of course made you have a big dumb smile plastered on your face

you actually pulled apart and out of his arms this time and took a look at the score card

beneath your score the professor left a little note

“i hope you don’t mind but i emailed the art gallery about your work. they have a small exhibition open if you’d like to showcase your art. here’s the email: ­­­­­­_______. please consider it. you have serious talent.”

“an art gallery doyoung. an exhibition in an art gallery.”

tears fell down your face

this was an amazing opportunity

a dream came true

“i can come over tonight and we can email them.”

you just nodded your head

tbh you were still in shock

this was a huge opportunity

“so y/n. i know there is a lot going on right now but I can’t wait. will you be my girl/boy-friend?

“doyoung of course. can you help me take this stuff back to my apartment then if you want we can go grab something to eat?”

he nodded happily and grabbed the sculpture

THE END

goodness gracious that took a while

I hope you enjoyed reading this 5 thousand-word trainwreck

I know some of the stuff about creating sculptures isn’t accurate, but I need to make it work with the timeline I had in my head

I hope it didn’t bother anyone too much

but yeah

thanks for reading

also I didn’t proofread this so hopefully there aren’t many mistakes

if there are just message me and I’ll fix them

also also here’s a sequel type thing that doesn’t have to be seen as a sequel umm it isn’t as good as this one but here ya go

·         

[eulerami]

I hope this isn't too out of line of me, but I would really like to tell you that I adore your writing. I've only read Bite the Bullet but I love the way you show people interacting with each other and the environment around them. I really, really adore it so far, and it makes me sad to see you say your writing sucks when it's so good! I understand how it feels, but I wanted to let you know that I think you have some really amazing writing to share and I hope you can see that too! 🌻

Awww man, I appreciate you taking the time to say this.

This is kind of a rant with no direction, but I’ve been debating saying something for a few weeks now anyway. I just feel like I should put this out there someplace.

It’s just been harder than expected for me. I went from a fandom where there were so many toxic people over the course of like, four or five years, just waiting in the woodwork at every turn for me to have even a smidgen of doubt. I had to defend my ass at every freaking turn, for who-the-fuck knows what, (misplaced passion?) pfft.

Folk really get off on you showing any kind of insecurity, seriously. It got to the point where they so greatly outnumbered the genuinely nice fans that I’ve just got this gut reaction for nothing less than perfection, with a hard-ass mentality to go with it, all the time. To the point where I still feel guilty doing doodles or more carefree things. (Like it’s corrupting the source material, somehow. Integrity, and all that.) I have to grit my teeth and post it anyway. I still find myself taking shit down.

In that pursuit I’ve sunk all my energy into improving my art and making comics. So, when I came back to writing, I’m finding it extremely hard to get the creativity flowing because it’s so nerve wracking. I’m inspired, frustratingly so, but it won’t come out. My hands just, nope, they freeze and I end up procrastinating.

I’m used to every detail, word, etc, being so intensely scrutinized, analyzed, or ridiculed with underhanded commentary or shitty attempts at “humor,” from “friends,” that it’s just. Ugh. Literally every fucking post, at one point. Anons. Messages. Whatever. I turned anon off, but then I got in my head, no…maybe it’s constructive, this is what being a professional is.

I grew up with people constantly putting me down and I fought through that to get where I am, so this is just more of the same thing, right? It’s not progress if there’s no opposition, right? People are always going to act like they give a damn but in reality they just can’t wait to watch you fuck up, right? It’s okay so long as you’re aware they’re like that at all times, right? Fuckin Autism-brain.

Boy was that fucking stupid, don’t do that to yourself. 

You improve too, years worth. Learn to paint. Learn to render. Learn typefacing, paneling, cinematography. Sink 12 hours at a time at the computer, learning everything you can with a burning passion. I have 400GB of space dedicated to PSD files. You emerge at the other end, overjoyed, ecstatic really, that you can make this with your own hands. You’re finally impressed with how it turned out–it looks amazing.

…Only for people to say, “I liked your older stuff better uwu. Dunno why, it was just fun.” Thanks! Fuck you!

When I was learning Zbrush, for example, the shitty comments were just, unreal. Like I’m learning, motherfuckers, let’s see you do fucking better. I was trying to learn how to sculpt the delicate ethnic nuances of different people, mostly indigenous people because I am really passionate about other cultures and making characters embody these features and histories.

It’s very important to me. Monolids here, broad cheekbones there–how often do you see 3D models on Artstation that aren’t 20-something white people? “Beautiful,” too, decked out to the nines with western-ideal supermodel builds and faces. I was trying to do something else. To make believable people.

Trying to find a new way to make Afro-Asiatic curly hair with Maya or Zbrush, without $10,000 in tools, etc. 

I get shitty, borderline fucking racist comments left and right, disguised as humor, that are so blatant I’m wondering if I’m the one making my shit look like caricatures to make people say this shit to begin with, and if I’m being more insulting than appreciative. It was stressful.

But you can’t flip the fuck out on these people, unless you want to be brought up to the fucking gallows and put on blast. When you’ve got a passion project you’ve spent 4 years on hanging in the balance, on your public image, and you’ve been “cancelled” already in the past, it’s a lot of pressure. It wasn’t worth it.

I’m a little bummed out my writing isn’t what it used to be. I used to be one hell of a writer in college, crank out pages at a time, but that’s what I get for focusing on comics so long. RP instilled bad habits too.

Recently with this fic, even though it was just meant to be fun, I’ve already had some folks saying ehhhhh stuff. It’s got me down, not gonna lie. I think I’m done trying to keep a tough face about it. It’s made it hard to write my third chapter. I’m stumbling through a couple hundred words at a time, if that.

The comments just keep coming back to me, in my head, every time I go to write.

I’m glad to hear you liked it though. It’s not my best, but I am enjoying the story. The feeling behind it, anyway, no matter how clunky, OOC, grammatically incorrect, repetitive, or whatever the delivery is.

It’s just, damnit man, lol—can’t the damn thing be out for 5 minutes before the critiques roll in? I can’t catch a break. Maybe I’m overly sensitive, but I’m so fucking frustrated. But, yeah. Thanks again for taking the time to say something, it’s nice to hear and kicks me in the ass a little to keep my chin up.

It’s just tough to do when it’s been so freaking long of just nonstop BS, and even when I’ve been away from it for over a year now, it’s still left some pretty bad habits and unhealthy work-ethic regarding art and writing.

I can hammer out art like you wouldn’t believe, in a professional manner, but damn did it come at the price of my own joy and creativity. I’m trying to get that back. It is coming back, slowly, in the form of a kinda roughly written fic. I know that as I write it more, it’ll get better, until I’m back where I was. Hopefully.

[jennifersylvesters]

75 and 76 with harrison/reader

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHOHOHO. OKAY. y’all choosing one of the trinity of tropes. i’m here for it. but the question is: can you handle it? answer: ya you probably can, and i’m being so dramatic. what else is new? same as the others - it’s both bullet points and blurbs ( i think this is longer than the last one?? oh god. i don’t wanna check. )

75. bed sharing / 76. did they or didn’t they?

For years you had been close friends with Harrison. You saw him around before the two of you actually met, but it wasn’t until your friend Lacey introduced the two of you that you got to know him. Almost instantly the two of you had a connection, quickly becoming friends. He was your “person”, your closest companion. The two of you texted one another daily, sharing funny stories or dumb photos. He was the person you called in the middle of the night, asking to kill a bug for you. (What’s nice was that he actually came over and did it, despite calling you dramatic.) You confided in him with just about everything. Well, everything except for the fact that you had a major crush on him. 

both of you are part of this tight knit group that always hangs out on the weekends with one another, usually partying at someone’s house or at a bar. to be honest, you preferred hanging out with friends because it meant there was less of a chance of you watching harrison flirt with random girls

but there’s one night where everyone’s partying at tony’s place. it’s getting pretty late that you decide that you’re just going to stay over and sleep in the guest room.

and that’s the thing about being part of the group; it wasn’t weird sleeping over unless someone made it weird

anyways you’re settling into the bed, getting comfortable when harrison peeks his head in

“You mind if I crash with you?” he requests noticing that it’s just you in the bed. “Remy took the couch, Sam called dibs on sharing Tony’s bed, Lacey’s taken the futon, and Tom’s passed out on the floor.”

“I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind the company” you tell him sweetly. He rolls his eyes at your playful demeanor. 

“Hardy har har. C’mon. Please? You’d let your ‘person’ just sleep on the floor?” He juts out his bottom lip, shooting you the most adorable puppy look. You raise a hand, trying to cover his face. 

“You know I can’t resist you when you do that.” He hears this as a joke, but you’re being dead honest. That face would make you commit sins for him. 

so you gesture for him to come join you in the bed

it’s not like the two of you haven’t shared a bed before. in fact, you’ve done it multiple times. and every single time your heart leaps out of your chest, anxious about his presence being so close

but you keep reminding yourself “this isn’t weird unless you make it weird”

except it gets weird in the morning

tom comes bursting through your door the next morning like “rise and shine, bitches!” 

and then he makes a face, unable to process what he’s witnessing

which is harrison with his shirt off having his arms wrapped around you while you’re snuggled against his chest

so with wide eyes he backs out of the room slowly before gently closing the door. and then he takes a deep breath. then begins yelling “OH MY GOD I THINK HAZ AND Y/N DID IT LAST NIGHT” as he waves his arms and dashes through the house with the news

this obviously wakes the two of you up because why is tom so loud?? it’s way too early for this. you both kinda stumble out of bed before you realize that harrison is shirtless

when you point out he’s not wearing a top, he simply picks up his discarded shirt from the night before and slips it on. you can’t help but wish he was shirtless for a little longer because that was a view

and when the two of you leave the guest room, all your friends are standing outside like “did something happen??”

the two of you look at one another and in synch just shrug your shoulders

so now everyone’s speculating whether or not something happened. some people are sure the two of you did it because they’ve seen the way you look at harrison even though you insist the two of you are just friends. others are like “there’s no way that would happen. y/n would never ruin the friendship like that” which, true. but they don’t have to say it so bluntly

both of you play it coy just simply shrugging and making simple faces and gestures in response. this is driving your friend’s crazy, which is honestly kind of fun

and then the next day you guys are walking together out in the city

he mentions tom’s been bugging him about it, asking what actually happened. he laughs at how silly it sounds for everyone to be involved in this when nothing clearly happened. you’re not sure why, but it irks you that he’s laughing

“We can say we did” you suggest nervously. He looks at you, unsure of what to say. “I mean, I don’t care.” You do your best to sound nonchalant despite the multiple implications this would mean. “There are worst rumors people could spread about me.”

He remains quiet, glancing down at his shoes. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But it’s not like it’s harming anyone.

“I mean, it’ll be fun to see everyone’s reaction.” You try and keep this light and fun. If you prove that you’re game for just a funny joke, he’ll buy into it. “It’s really not a big deal.”

He hesitates. You can see him on the verge of shaking his head, but for some reason you want him to play along. You want to believe that the two of you are capable of something more, even if it’s simply a one night stand. “Really, I don’t mind” you add.

“A-Are you sure?” You nod in response, unaware of the consequences you now faced. 

so the two of pretend that you slept together just for kicks. because why not? it’s a fun joke. that’s what you keep telling yourself.

and both of you are pretending this whole sleeping together is not that big of a deal. people do it all the time. it’s sort of impressing your friends how you guys are acting mature, as if it doesn’t really mean too much

but the dynamic between the two of you has radically shifted

he’s a little more gentle with you, courteous with his actions. he’s checking in on you more than usual, more affectionate than normal. not that you’re complaining. 

but in turn you find yourself a little shyer around him. everything he does is so sweet that you’re not sure how to handle this

anyways there’s another outing and this time y’all crash at tom’s place since he’s decided to play host

tom’s like “y’all can sleep in the guest room again wink wonk. just please don’t soil my sheets too badly or i’m making you pay for the drycleaning” he’s such a div, but he thinks he’s hilarious

and the two of you are lowkey freaking out

you know you shouldn’t because nothing happened last time and nothing’s going to happen this time right??

both of you are hesitant of your every move, afraid it might be too much. at first when you get under the covers, you’re a bit nervous even though he is as well. it’s just the two of you under blankets for god’s sake, but it feels nerve-wracking 

he’s trying to play it cool, attempting to have a regular conversation with you. and honestly it helps a bit. you’re finally starting to relax around each other, starting to feel like things are going back to normal. you guys are leaning in to one another, smiling at your silly inside jokes 

harrison keeps scooting in closer to you, way closer than before. and you keep saying to yourself that he’s probably just cold or doesn’t wanna talk too loud. except you know what’s happening even if your brain is taking forever to process it

The next thing you know, his lips are grazing yours. He never kissed you before, not even on the cheek the way some of your guy friends palled around. This was special, a tender kiss that made your heart flutter. 

it starts to get a lil more forceful, your hands roaming through his hair, tugging on it while he’s getting handsy. and you’re so eager for this to finally happen that you help him slip out of his shirt and you’re kicking off your pants. 

and then the next thing you know he’s stopping and like “i, uh, i…sorry.” you’re confused because you thought that the two of you were enjoying yourselves, but he turned so quickly on you. he rolls towards the other side, scooting towards the edge of the mattress

“did i do something wrong?” you ask concerned. you touch his back and he stiffens. “no, it’s just…i can’t…i can’t do this right now” and you get the sinking feeling that you’ve ruined everything

so you turn to your side, trying to steady your breathing so that you won’t cry

the next week or so is agony because the two of you are both actively avoiding one another

you don’t text, you don’t hang out, and it feels like you’re not one another’s “person” anymore. the loneliness is eating at you, but you don’t know how to deal with this misery besides wallowing in it

saturday night swings around and it’s some dumb house party. you only go, deciding that you’ll only stay an hour

you’ve managed to find a secluded area where you won’t be too bothered and that’s when tony slides into the space next to you.“wassup y/n” he greets you but his smile fades when he sees you looking miserable

so he asks you what’s going on. you don’t want to explain, ashamed of what happened. but tony’s always been there for you and insists he won’t judge. so you decide to tell him everything. how nothing happened before. how you decided to play pretend. and how things got more intense. and now you’re at the point where you don’t know what to do about haz. tony’s like “oh.” because it’s a lot of information to process. he feels bad about the whole situation, and tries to convince you that you should just try and forget about it for tonight. “that’s not great advice, tony.” “sorry, i’m not good with this when i’m drunk”

so later you’re out on the patio and you’ve kinda decided that you’re gonna leave - this isn’t fun and you miss just having your friend being by your side. things just aren’t the same without harrison as your friend. 

You ignore the sound of the glass door sliding open, assuming it’s Tony come to convince you to stay. “I’m not telling Harrison” you announce, shaking your head. 

“Not telling me what?” You swivel around, surprised to see Harrison holding on to the door, curious about your words. 

“Not telling me what, Y/N?” he asks once more.

“It’s nothing.” You don’t want to discuss this with him, especially feeling as lousy as you do. You try to walk past him, but he’s in the way. “Please move” you request, but he doesn’t budge.

“You haven’t talked to me since last week. What’s going on?” he pleads, wanting to fix the relationship.

“Neither have you!” you exclaim. “You’ve been avoiding me!”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is!”

It’s clear that Harrison isn’t going to agree with you anytime soon. 

“Please…Just tell me what’s going on.”

You feel so helpless around him. Frankly you’re sick of how pathetic you’re being. It was awful being in love with your friend, feeling that he would never understand how you cared for him in a different way than the rest. So you let honesty take the reigns, spilling out your emotions. 

“I liked you Harrison” you blurt out. “I’ve liked you for, like, forever! And I know you’d rather us just stay friends, but that’s not fair to me. And when you just rejected me like that the other night...It sucked! Like, it really sucked, Haz!” 

you don’t feel eloquent in the slightest and it’s so frustrating knowing you have all these emotions that can’t be properly explained. he’ll never understand how you fell in love so quickly with him and it’ll take three times as long to get over him. and honestly you’re still not sure you want to get over him

anyways he’s looking away from you and he mutters “i knew it was a bad idea”. it’s like a punch to the gut, but he continues. “i shouldn’t have gone along with your idea in the first place.” that hurts to hear, and you begin tearing up.

“i’m sorry the idea of sleeping with me is so disgusting” you choke out, trying not to cry. he looks up and sees your face, and immediately regrets what he said. 

“oh! y/n! that’s not what i meant! that’s not what i meant at all” he’s reaching out for you, but you slap away his hand because you don’t want pity. not now, not from him. 

he’s frustrated, tugging at his hair as he tries to figure out what to say. “i just didn’t want...i didn’t want that. i can’t sleep with you knowing that it’s just going to be part of another rumor. you deserve better than that. i just wanted...i wanted to be with you, but not that way.”

he’s not really making much sense and he can tell. he lets out an upset groan as he squats down trying to properly express himself. and when he looks up at you, still looking a bit distressed, he decides he just has to go for it

“i like you, y/n! obviously i like you!” you stop tearing up hearing this, caught off guard by the confession. “i just...i dunno! i’m bad at this! i didn’t wanna jeopardize the friendship if you didn’t feel the same way! you’re my “person” for god’s sake! and i’m sorry i hurt you. i am! god, i am so bad at this....christ, why am i so bad at this?”

you’re blinking back tears. “you like me?” “of course i like you. i’m pretty sure i’m in love with y-OOF” he’s not prepared for you to throw your arms around him, tacking him to the ground

You squeeze him tightly, so delighted to hear those magical words from him. Nothing about this was fake or a rumor; it was Harrison laying every truth on the line with you. “Say it again” you whispered in his ear. 

“I like you, Y/N.” You felt his arms wrap around you, pressing a kiss in your hair. “You’re my ‘person’. Forever and always.”

[taaroko]

Post-IW MCU Rewatch: Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Here we go, Winter Soldier. I somehow never watch this one outside of marathons, even though I know it’s amazing. 

ON YOUR LEFT

Steve and Nat’s friendship is awesome. I love how invested she is in his love life and how confused he is by that.

“Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so no, not really.” I’m still trying to figure out how to define Steve’s sense of humor. It’s like quiet, deadpan understatement? I guess? I love it.

That shield looks pretty dingy, Cap. Could do with a wash.

There’s a really random sting in the score when Nat attacks a dude, and for a second you think it’s going to be a kinda retro spy score, but then it’s just over. Weird.

Steve has by now adjusted quite well to being a part of modern tactical missions, if less so to being a part of modern everyday life.

This French pirate dude really likes his unnecessary acrobatics.

Bonus points to Cap for doing trash talk in French.

One of the best parts about Steve and Nat’s friendship is how seamlessly they work together in battle. Whenever there’s something dangerous (especially explosions) on the way, she hunkers down or grabs onto him and lets him and his shield do the work, and they don’t even have to signal each other.

“Last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Oooooh I wonder if that has anything to do with the Skrulls in Captain Marvel. Can’t wait to find out.

“I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.” “By holding a gun to everyone on earth and calling it protection.” “This isn’t freedom. This is fear.” Cap is not down with your surveillance state or pre-crime nonsense.

I love the awed little kid who spots him. So cute.

*pauses on Bucky’s memorial* “When Bucky Barnes first met Steve Rogers on the playgrounds of Brooklyn, little did he know that he was forging a bond that would take him to the battlefields of Europe and beyond. Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front. Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, depravation, and torture. But his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America. Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, the Howling Commandos. Barnes’s marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed Hydra bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.

Wait a second. Up top, the thing says he was born in 1916, but at the bottom, it says he lived from 1917-1944. Wow. Nice continuity there, guy in charge of putting words and numbers on a single pane of glass.

Peggy! “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband.” Yes and that man was Daniel Sousa. Oh hey, photos of Peggy with her kids! She had at least one son and one daughter. It’s hard to tell if the girl with her in the first picture is the same one as in the second picture.

The effect to make Hayley look old isn’t nearly as good as the effect to make Chris look skinny. It’s rather off-putting, actually. But oh man her dementia is so heartbreaking. “Well I couldn’t leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance.” *sobbing*

“What makes you happy?” “I don’t know.” *more sobbing* Everything that made Steve happy is seventy years gone. Steve is never not sad. No wonder he refuses to compromise for a second when it comes to Bucky.

The attack on Fury’s car is so nerve-wracking and he handles it so well. I wonder if Sam Jackson imagined he was going to get so much cool stuff to do in this role when he agreed to be in the end credits stinger of Iron Man.

The Winter Soldier’s introduction is masterful.

So...Fury pretty much got out of that by using his lightsaber. :D

Hi Sharon! This is some cute flirting.

“My wife kicked me out.” Was it because you insisted on taking your super-suit out for some daring do?

There it is. That Winter Soldier music. *shiver*

I totally bought Fury’s death when I saw this in theaters. Not sad that it turned out to be a ruse (I will never be sad about Marvel pulling character death-related punches), but I do think those bullet wounds were a little too convincing.

“To build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down.” Heh. Except Cap is going to be tearing down your “better” world and standing up for the best parts of the old one.

Elevator fight! I love how observant Steve is. He’s always been that way. Just quietly taking in everything around him and putting it together. He’s brilliant. And then “It kinda feels personal.” Bahaha.

So if Steve falls a couple hundred feet and lands on his shield, it absorbs the impact ‘cause it’s vibranium?

Holy crap he took down a quinjet with just his shield.

I am not a fan of Nat’s straight hair in this one, especially with that center part. But it’s still better than how it looks in Infinity War. Especially the eyebrows.

Undercover engaged hipster couple Steve/Nat is so great. Steve is so bad at it and it’s adorable.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.” “Yes, they do.”

I love Nat putting her feet on the dash.

There’s no way Nat didn’t know who Peggy Carter was. She asked Steve to gage his reaction.

They are pretty far underground, in a bunker. How did the missile even affect them? Did they make a special chute for the missile to go into in case they needed to blow up the base? Doesn’t look like it.

The design for Zola’s computer face is effectively creepy.

Hydra’s plan is so insidious and horrifying. Screw up the world on purpose until people want to trade their privacy and freedom for security.

That’s a really pathetic amount of milk Pierce poured himself. Like two inches in a really tall glass. Weird.

So...I guess Sam has a straightener. For some reason. Why couldn’t they have just let Nat’s hair stay wavy?

Steve is so sweet with Nat. She’s numbly horrified that she might’ve been working for the bad guys this whole time and he’s all nice and reassuring. Aww.

Senator Stern arranging for a young prostitute with Sitwell is gross.

Nat: *kicks a guy off the roof* *immediately transitions to asking Steve about girls he could be asking out*

Okay how does Sam have access to military equipment like his wing pack when he’s not on active duty?

STEPHEN STRANGE. How is he already on Hydra’s radar? There’s no way Zola’s algorithm accounts for magic, and even if it does, how can it possibly predict that he’d become a master of it several years down the line? It’s not like he was dabbling in it in his surgeon days. That came about as the result of a freak car accident! Pfft. They clearly only threw that reference in there to get people freaking out about a possible future Doctor Strange movie. 

Bye Sitwell.

Hehe, as soon as the Winter Soldier shows up, Nat crawls into Steve’s lap ‘cause she knows he’s gonna have to make an insane exit and she will be PREPARED.

Okay I never noticed that Bucky ripped the freaking steering wheel out.

Gah, Steve getting tossed off the bridge and into the bus looks so incredibly painful.

So Bucky has now shot Nat twice. (I still ship it.)

There are some excellent kicks and knife fighting moves in this showdown. And the way the music ramps up is hair-raising.

I hate Runlow so much.

Maria is awesome.

Um, hi, Joe Russo. He plays Fury’s doctor! Dang! No role for Anthony, though.

“I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Yesss. Vintage Cap. And the shield is clean now! Symbolism!

HI DANNY PUDI. (Apparently Alison Brie was going to be Sharon Carter, but she had scheduling conflicts.)

I love this brave curly-haired kid. This is courage. He has no power and he’s so scared he might wet himself, but he will not launch those helicarriers even with a gun to his head.

Shouldn’t have helped SHIELD with that repulsor tech, Tony.

Okay, I guess Steve can tuck and roll to land a fifty foot drop without using the shield.

These helicarriers store their data in a really strange way.

“We’re the only air support Captain Rogers has got!” *all immediately get shot down and blown up by the Winter Soldier* Whoops.

I wonder if we’re gonna find out more about Bogota in Captain Marvel.

STEVE IS A CRAZY PERSON. You do not jump before you know you have your ride!

It’s a good thing Bucky neither knew nor cared what that data blade was.

I’d love to read a fic that’s just Steve and Thor sitting around talking about all the times Bucky and Loki have shot and/or stabbed them.

Sam has the correct reaction to Runlow’s nonsense.

Why is Jeremy Irons on the list of targets? I wish they’d put more Easter eggs in here, like the names of the Netflix Marvel characters and the Agents of Shield characters. It would’ve been an extremely unobtrusive way for the movies to reference the shows, instead of it always being one-sided.

It’s a good thing they were planning on firing after the count of 3, not on the count of 3.

Steve, you really need to work on your attitude towards exit strategies.

HOW did Runlow survive that?!

Steve would rather Bucky kill him than live in a world where Bucky can’t be saved. And that’s what saves Bucky. *wibble*

“On your left.” Bahaha.

Hi Pietro and Wanda!

Winter Soldier is awesome. I love a well-earned, narratively consistent game changer. One thing I definitely did not expect the MCU to do back then was buck the status quo, but they did it in a huge way, and they did it extremely effectively. I was deeply impressed. And it still holds up even looking back now. The way they tackle the issue of surveillance is very effective. Probably the best thing about this movie is that they realized that Steve Rogers was not going to work as a character if he adapted too much to modern times. Instead, they derived much of their conflict from the disconnect between Steve and his surroundings, and they added a deeply emotional connection at the core of it. Steve ultimately succeeds against Hydra and in getting through to Bucky by shedding his modern trappings and affiliations and going back to what he always was, complete with the old outfit and the shiny clean shield. Steve Rogers reminds us of the ideals America is supposed to stand for. Freedom, justice, honor, and truth. He makes us want to be more like that. Take a note, DC; this is the kind of thing you should’ve been doing with Superman. This is how you make a paragon character we can still be deeply invested in even as we look up to him. (They did a pretty good job with Diana, but the real test will be how she adapts in a more modern stand-alone film.)

Another great thing about this is that they kind of dumped all the side characters from Avengers into Steve’s story. As the First Avenger and as a man out of time, this a brilliant way to give him a new supporting cast without it being jarring and forcing us to spend a ton of time getting to know everyone. We already know Fury, Nat, and Maria and like them, so we’re perfectly prepared to watch them being awesome without feeling like it takes something away from Steve. We know the World Security Council. We know SHIELD. And then there’s Peggy, the Smithsonian exhibit, and Bucky that are all from Steve’s time. It’s a very solid foundation onto which we can add Sam, Sharon, Pierce, and Runlow. It just works so well. And Hydra manages to be even more frightening as an evil organization than it was in the first movie, when it was honestly kind of silly. (So many bonus points for how that played out in Agents of SHIELD, too. As far as I’m concerned, that was when the show finally got good, and it has steadily gotten better since.)

[welovekpopscenarios]

In Your Arms (WW2!AU Wonwoo x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

The war is raging as terrible as ever, and Wonwoo is so close to getting home, yet so far when the enemy threat is still around the corner. All he wants to do is to go home, to where he knows you are waiting for him, and kiss you with all his might. All he has to do is survive waiting on this damned beach for a boat to take him there - WW2/War!AU

Fandom: SEVENTEEN

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader

Warnings: A bit of violence, war, death, etc. Nothing major tho

Word Count: 2820

A/N: Fun fact: this story/idea has been in my list since the 25th of july after I came home from seeing the movie Dunkirk in the cinema. It wasn’t until the other night when I watched it again that I finally bit the bullet and wrote this story. Now, I know Wonwoo is Korean and not in any way British, but let’s just pretend in this fictional story that the boys fought for Britain and were on the beaches of Dunkirk during WW2. I just really loved the story of Dunkirk and this idea has been on my mind for so long that I had to write it, bc clearly I can’t create an original story of my own bc I have no talent or imagination and I’m a terrible writer. Anyway, I hope you give this story a chance bc I’m actually kinda happy with it, and that you also check out the movie Dunkirk if you haven’t seen it – it is absolutely fantastic and every man in it is a snack. You don’t have to know about what happened at Dunkirk to read this story, but it is a very interesting part of history and a very sad one, so maybe you’ll read up about it. Anyway, enjoy and as always, happy reading, I love you all :D

The harsh sounds of the ocean greeting the sand in an angered haste almost disguised the sounds of gunshots occurring in the devastated French city of Dunkirk just beyond the temporary borders set up at the edges of the beach.

Almost.

It was quite difficult to forget that awful bang and metallic ringing once it did enter your ears, Wonwoo thinks, and he prays no other men should have to experience that horrible clang in their life, that he shouldn’t have to hear it anymore, that this dreadful war will be put to an end soon and they can all go home to their normal lives before the world was thrust into a dark pit of hatred and violence. But it would seem impossible to just forget every terrible deed that has been commited these past few weeks and return to a blissfully ignorant life.

Besides, the horrible, nerve-wracking wailing sounds from the fighter bombers are the loudest and most terrible of all, and overpower every sound in the area: the waves, the gunshots, the screams, the crying.

Wonwoo just wants to go home.

He’s not built for war. Wonwoo is tall yet lanky, smart yet sluggish, and his hands are definitely made for holding books, not weapons. He isn’t strong and agile like Mingyu, or Seungcheol, or even Seokmin. He’s pacifistic in nature, and mild mannered, just like Jeonghan and Joshua. He wasn’t meant to be dragged into a battle to point a gun at other men who had the very same wishes as him; to return to their families and forget everything about this damned hell they were living. But, of course, when war wages, the responsibility to protect your country and loved ones comes first, and thousands of young, able-bodied men were shipped out to fight in the streets, fields and beaches of France against foreign invaders. It is about the only thing Wonwoo can justify about fighting in this war.

Because war and terror aside, he’d do anything to keep you safe and sound.

Sitting here on an overturned tank next to Mingyu and Vernon, who was currently nursing his shoulder from a bullet graze he received some time ago, they all awaited the ships that would take them back to Britain to wait for the battle that would inevitably occur in their homeland.

If they could return to begin with, seeing as the bomber planes were picking them off like fish in a barrel on the beach; 400,000+ men on these sands, some meeting their end while waiting for safety. Wonwoo was sick of ducking for cover at this point, and could barely even hear properly anymore, what with all the constant assault on his eardrums rendering them nearly useless at the moment.

Tragic, he thinks bitterly, that home is just beyond that sea, but so out of reach. Countless deaths on this very beach while men died clinging to hope that they get home safely.

Home.

Where you are.

You are his home.

And Wonwoo wants nothing more than to hop on the next ship that arrives with his brothers and run into your warm, waiting arms, not stand on this blood-soaked sand waiting and wondering if the next time the plane flies overhead will hit its target and force him to draw his last breath.

He shudders at the thought, watches idly as soldiers carry the wounded to the mole and onto the docked ship waiting to sail home and fix up the men who have definitely seen better days. He hears the chatter from the other boys, hears the generals and captains shouting orders, hears the whispered venom falling from men’s lips about the state of their current situation – hears it all. But he isn’t focused on it now that he has a moment to rest. The sounds are muffled, his vision blurred.

The only thing he sees and hears, as crystal clear as the sky above him, contrasting against the muddied and bloodied warfare raging beneath the blue sky, is you.

You, standing before him, waving him off with tears streaming down your cheeks as the train took him away to the docks to be sent to war.

Oh, how he longs to see your smile in front of him as opposed to in his dreams, how he wants to feel your flesh against his, not the rough spun fabric of his uniform. He doesn’t want to feel stones and sand caught in his boots or aches in his muscles or an adrenaline fuelled heartbeat. He only feels pain, feels longing, feels scared, feels-

grass blades licking at the bottom of his feet as he walked, the garden surrounding him in light and colour and all things warm. Despite his height, he almost felt small in the country garden, just a speck amongst greens, reds, blues, whites, the list was endless. The garden was so bright and vibrant, he could almost ignore the PSA that rang out on the radio just an hour ago that spoke fancy words as a cover up for thousands of young men’s impending doom. Including his own. They needed men now.

So distracted was he, that he almost didn’t notice your prone form, lying on the soft bed of grass with a blanket beneath you and basking in the spot of sunshine, glowing high above the countryside. There you lay, arms cushioning your head, eyes closed and seemingly without a care in the world.

He knew better than that.

He knew how your face dropped as the crackle of the radio reached both your ears, your face growing more weary and pale with each damned word. Yet you had sat in silence, nodded your head once it was finished, and returned to peeling the potatoes for the dinner, albeit a bit more roughly than required. Once that was over with and they sat boiling in the pot, you retreated to the garden, and Wonwoo hadn’t heard a peep from you for near 25 minutes since you did.

He stopped just shy of you, lowering himself to sit next to you, eyes memorizing over the lines of your peaceful face. He can’t just stare any more. He has to memorise it – save it for the dark days to come when you aren’t by his side and he has no strength to stand. It causes a dead weight to plunge into his stomach, fingers denting crescents into the flesh of his legs from his grip.

“The dinner didn’t burn, did it?” you broke the silence, eyes still closed and voice as soft as cotton. Wonwoo mumbled out a no, shaking his head lightly. You sighed through your nose, a long, drawn out exhale that deflated your chest in the process. “I must cook all of your favourite meals for dinner from now on before you go. It might be a while before you can have them again.” The words are bitter, and rightfully so, an awful poison on your tongue that doesn’t suit your nature, that isn’t you.

He wants to say everything will be fine, that he’ll be home in no time and that the world will be safe once he does. But he knows that isn’t what you want to hear, it isn’t particularly what he wants to hear either, and so he stays silent, stewing in his torment, and lets the music playing from the gramophone fill the air instead.

He picks at strands of grass, rolling the blades between his long, slender fingertips, wondering how on earth these fingers are meant to pull triggers and kill. He just can’t imagine it.

“When are you leaving?” you whispered, hands now grasping at your woollen skirt, fidgeting - pulling and straightening.

Wonwoo shrugs.

“I think in about a week or so, we’ll be taken away to start training. The radio said something about wanting men to join the fight as soon as possible and to sign up as soon as possible,” he answered, voice low and quiet, feeling as though he were threading on glass with this conversation.

You rolled over on your side, brows furrowed the slightest, but face otherwise blank, and Wonwoo hates that more than if you were outright angry or upset. He can’t gauge how you feel, because you know the duty men have in times of war, but you also know the trauma that comes with it, and someone like Wonwoo does not fit the description of a killer.

“A week or so?” you replied. A nod from Wonwoo. You sit up sluggishly, almost reluctantly, and keep your eyes trained on your feet. “Right. I’ll have to head to the market and get all the ingredients tomorrow. And I’ll see what I can get to give you for your journey. Whatever might be useful and you’re able to sneak in with you, I’ll give it to you. I’ll ask Sharon, her brother was deployed around a month or so ago. She should know.”

The music’s sweet tones wafted into the silence once more after your words, so resolute and strong that Wonwoo thinks you could almost take his place in the war instead, you’ve always been so capable.

“Thank you.” A nod from you. “At least you aren’t crying,” he tries to joke, but judging by your stiff posture and the guilt eating away at his heart, it wasn’t every funny.

“I’ll do it when you’re gone. Believe me,” you retort, words harsh in a quiet way, as sharp as steel. His throat closed up and his heart gave a lurch.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I-“

“What for?” you asked quickly, whipping around to face him, eyes wide in a frenzy and fists clenched, bundling the fabric up in your hands and wrinkling it in the process. “For doing your duty? For the war? For protecting your country? None of that is your fault, Wonwoo, don’t be foolish-“

“For leaving you.”

You looked like you wanted to reply; to snap back about how he hasn’t left yet, or how it was happening to everyone, that the urgency of the war was more important than this, but you couldn’t. The words wouldn’t leave your lips. Maybe it was the solemn look on Wonwoo’s graceful features, or the sickening dead weight in your stomach as soon as the radio announcer said good evening to the country so gravely, or your disastrous thoughts of Wonwoo’s possible death in a foreign land that stilled your lips. Wonwoo took a deep breath.

“I made a promise, that day when I married you, when you looked as beautiful as now, all dressed up and with that gorgeous smile of yours on your face, that I would never leave you. I said it with my own voice, in my own words, and with your hands in mine. I would not leave your side. For better or for worse. It was a promise I intended to keep, but now I have to break it.” Wonwoo took hold of your fists in his, so small they seemed compared to his own, his heart ached at the faint tremble emanating from them.

“I have to break my promise, and I couldn’t be sorrier,” he continued, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “But I promise I will come back to you. I have to keep you safe first, but once it’s all over with, I’ll come back, and I’ll hold you when you go to sleep, and I’ll walk with you to the market on Saturday mornings, and I’ll dance with you late at night where you’ll put your head on my shoulder and hum along to the songs the way I like it. I’ll come home. And I won’t ever leave you.”

He could see the crystalline tears forming at the corners of your eyes, could hear your shallow breathing, and yet you were still so strong. Wonwoo was envious, wishes he could be as brave as you. That’s what he loves about you, he guesses. No, he knows.

“You will come back, Mr Wonwoo, or I will kill you myself,” you threaten weakly, and he huffs out a laugh. “I don’t care about myself, keep yourself safe. That is all I ask of you. Keep yourself safe and well, and fight your hardest. Do your damned bit for your country, and come back into my arms. Where you belong.”

Wonwoo’s grip on your hands loosened, his arms moving to wrap themselves around you and pull you to his chest, your own arms squeezing his waist tightly as you muffled your sobs in the planes of his chest. He breathed in the scent of your hair, taking in the little things he’ll come to miss about you. Lips traced faintly on the crown of your head, long fingers threading through your hair and twining strands around them, rocking you both back and forth as he allowed you to finally break in his embrace.

“I will, I swear to you,” he said, moving you impossibly closer to his form. “I’ll stay safe for you, and I’ll come home. My heart is always with you, however. Wherever I go. It has always been yours. It’s yours,” he spoke these words more resolutely than anything he’s ever said in his life, and he repeated these words every day up until the day he stepped foot on the train with hundreds of other men, and still, these words left his lips as he stuck his head out the window, etched themselves into the letters he sent home with unique little gems he found in his time in France, swam in his thoughts every night he closed his eyes. And with this promise he feels secure, he feels warm, he feels-

determined to reach the shores of England again, where he knows you’ll wait for him as long as it takes, day and night, and the thought makes Wonwoo’s lips break into a miniscule smile.

“What’s that smile for?” Mingyu asks, leaning his fatigued body on Wonwoo’s equally exhausted body, sighing loudly and conveying thousands of soldiers’ current status in a single breath. Wonwoo simply shrugged, nails picking at the grime that gathered on his rifle as a way to distract him. “Looking forward to getting home?” Mingyu inquired, his muck covered face flashing a grin despite the circumstances. Wonwoo admires him for his high spirits, and reckons it helped him get through these past few weeks more than he’d like to admit.

“I think everyone is,” Wonwoo retorts, eyes roaming the lines of men gathered on the beach; some talked near the shore, some sat and were too weary to move their legs, some lay still and never moved again. He sighs sadly. He was fed up of being on this bloody beach.

“Well, we’re not out of the woods yet,” Vernon comments, having successfully wrapped his shoulder and now avoids the risk of infection. ‘Not out of the sands’ would be a more accurate saying for today, Wonwoo reflects, watching the cerulean of the sky blend in with the rolling waves of the ocean, the bright white colour of the hospital ship a stark contrast to the dull colours surrounding it, the red cross a beacon of hope for some. “Bombers keep picking us off there’ll be no one left to go home. Be worse if the French lines break and the Nazi’s surround us on the beach.”

Mingyu tuts in a scolding way, wrapping a burly arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders that has him lurching forward, his balance off kilter from the force. “Don’t think like that, Vernon. If you think like that, then we lose all hope. Home is so close, you can practically touch it. Hold faith, we will get through this. Isn’t that right, Wonwoo?” he asks.

Wonwoo doesn’t understand why Mingyu feels the need to include him every time he speaks, but nevertheless, his words ring true, and so he nods, Mingyu beaming at him in thanks.

Hold faith. Easier said than done, but Wonwoo knows he cannot lose now, not while you were so close. He will come home. He chants it like a prayer, his own personal chant that he repeats over and over until the words don’t even feel like they are real anymore.

He says them over and over, even when the bomber aircrafts hover once more over the shore and the mole with its awful, heart sinking sirens that has everyone scrambling for cover, says it when the ground shakes with explosions and his comrades meet their fate all around him while he pins his hands to his ears in a weak attempt to silence the devastation. It’s the only thing he is sure of, and clings to it so desperately it seems almost obsessive. But he made a promise. A promise he does not plan on breaking.

He will go home, back into your arms, back to his life.

Even if it kills him.

[jasperrollswrites]

Confidence is Key

Apparently there aren’t any good quality shots of Pete as he appears in Goof Troop, which is why the image for this one is done by _hornbuckle_, from a picture I got from her earlier this year.

Pete seems to be something of a heartthrob for the furry community, which I can’t really complain about too much because I’m just as bad. Maybe Disney should capitalize on it. Anyway, this one’s another commission, for gomanfury. It was my first time writing someone other than the protagonist reacting to the transformation, so it was kinda fun.

———————

Kevin had always found interviews nerve-wracking. He'd taken courses for this kind of thing - what to say, what interviewers were looking for, how to make a good impression, but when he finally landed himself outside the door, waited for them to call him in, he started sweating bullets. He'd overthink, forget things, and by the time they asked to interview him, he was usually feeling ill, and would crash and burn in the interview.

It had been this way a good couple of times, and his parents were getting kind of frustrated, often berating him for failing, yet again. Kevin was sure the way they felt was nothing compared to how HE felt. Didn't they think he was just as frustrated himself? He knew all the stuff he needed to do in theory, but when it came to putting it into practice, he fell apart. Things couldn't go on like this much longer. He needed to get more confident.

He'd looked up a few lessons in increasing interview confidence over the last week, and one of the tips one of them had suggested was getting a new suit, since it could make you feel like a new man if you wore something different to the clothes you always wore. It didn't even have to be that different of a suit - just something new would be enough. Unfortunately, Kevin didn't have a whole lot of money to spare, and at this point, his parents were unwilling to assist him with anything money related. So he'd gone crawling around thrift stores, trying to find something suitable.

Eventually, he'd hit upon something he thought might work, and this was what he was wearing right now, as he waited for his turn in the interview room. A set of dark pants, a pink button-down shirt, a dark red tie and a brown blazer. He'd capped it off with a pair of light brown slip-on shoes. He'd thought it might be good when he'd bought it, but now he wasn't so sure. He was kind of a thin guy, and it felt a little big on him. He scratched his short black hair, worried.

He'd arrived on time, but he'd ended up being the last to be interviewed out of four, and that was probably the worst position for him to be in. If he'd gone first, he was sure he would have aced it, since he wouldn't have time to overthink. But here he was, in last place, and he was overthinking his new suit. He'd thought it had looked fine when he'd tried it on in the store, but now he was thinking it didn't fit him at all. Not only in size - it strangely felt like it was a size or two too big now - but in style.

It seemed a bit too...Dad-like for him. Like it would be worn by a man twice his age. He felt kind of warm in the oversized blazer. He could feel himself beginning to sweat. He pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of the blazer and wiped his face. Things were starting to go wrong. And now his stomach was rumbling - he'd missed lunch, since he'd expected to have the interview done with by now, and now he was craving something to eat.

"D-dammit." He said mildly to himself. "Get it together." He closed his eyes, and tried to breathe slowly, telling himself in his head that things were going to be okay. He leaned back against the plastic chair he was sitting on, as he attempted to calm himself down, despite the protestations of his stomach. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Kevin kept his eyes closed, continuing to breathe slowly - and as he did, his belly began to push out.

It was slow, almost unnoticeable at first, but after a good couple of seconds, it was clear that his belly was expanding. He was beginning to pack on quite a bit of fat, as his stomach pushed against his shirt, and his legs widened to accommodate the chub he was accumulating. His skin around the side was beginning to bunch up a little, into small little rolls of fat - love handles, you might call them.

Kevin opened his eyes, a little calmer. He looked at the light grey wall in front of him - did they have to make it such a dull colour. He smoothed his shirt down with his hands, and looked down at himself. His clothes seemed to fit him now. Had he been imagining that they were so loose? He must have been...although...he put a hand on his belly, and squeezed it a bit. He was sure he was thinner than that, but what he was feeling was quite soft and flabby. Oh no, he was overthinking it again.

The door next to him opened, and Kevin saw one of the other candidates leaving the room, with a smile on his face. The person who had shown him in earlier, a young woman in her mid-30s with auburn hair - she'd said her name was Amber, was saying "We'll let you know! Have a good day." She turned her head and looked at Kevin, blinking a little in surprise, as if she had misremembered something. "Kevin, are you ready?" she asked.

"Yep." Kevin responded, and stood up, his expanded belly hanging down with a bit of a weight that Kevin was fairly sure he hadn't felt before. But he had no time to be worrying about that kind of thing. He needed to be confident.

"If you'd like to come in..." Amber told him, and opened the door wide for him, standing back a bit. Kevin shuffled past her, finding the gap a bit tighter than he expected. The room inside was small, and the light was a little too bright. Another man was inside, behind a table - he looked a bit older, approaching 50 or so, but looked like he kept in good shape. He stood up, extending his hand to Kevin. Kevin took the hand, trying to keep confident, giving him a firm handshake. Amber walked around the table, sitting down in the chair next to David.

"I'm David," the man said, "and I assume you know Amber. Would you like to sit down?" Kevin nodded, finding the chair across from them, and settling into it, setting his legs apart so his belly had space to pool a bit in his lap.

"Let's not waste any time getting started, then." David began. "So, Kevin, what made you go for this job."

Kevin smiled, feeling a bit more confident than usual in this situation. He felt like this was going to be different. He began launching into the spiel he had been memorising last night. However, the changes he'd been going through outside hadn't stopped - and now he was a little too focused to notice.

As he talked, his belly continued to push out, gaining layers of fat, now comfortably pushing against and filling out his pink shirt. His chest wasn't far behind, as fat began to pile on there, making his formerly flat chest puff out a bit. They were becoming a pair of soft moobs, and they were rubbing against his shirt as he went through his routine. He felt a bit uncomfortable - he wanted to give them a stroke, but that would be unprofessional. He kind of couldn't believe he'd had such a thought.

His changes hadn't gone unnoticed, but for the moment, the two interviewers had decided to keep quiet about what was happening to their candidate, sure they were imagining it. They shared a brief look, as David asked some followup questions.

"Uhh, well, I..." Kevin began in response, but scratched the back of his neck, which was feeling kind of itchy. He could feeling himself beginning to sweat. Boy, it was hot in here. "Do ya...uh, do ya mind if I take off my jacket?" He asked, in a voice that was a little louder, a little more gravelly than before. "It's a bit hot in here, ya know?" he explained.

"Umm...go ahead." Amber responded, and Kevin took off the jacket, sliding it onto the back of the chair he was sitting on. He pushed up the sleeves of his pink shirt, exposing his forearms, and as he did, his arms bloated out a little too, packing on a bit of fat of their own. As he went back into talking about his previous job experience, his whole body was growing. He had been a kind of short guy, just over 5ft tall, but he was starting to gain height, growing vertically and horizontally, as more fat bloated into his body, his legs thickening.

"And then, of course, there's my current job, at the car place." Kevin blinked at himself, surprised when that had came out of his mouth. Car place? What car place? He'd never worked at a car place. As he scratched his head, trying to figure out why he would say such a thing, his body continued to swell, lower this time. The chair creaked audibly, as his buttocks began to pack on the fat, his rear end bloating into a fat booty that made his hips wider than ever. He shifted a little to get more comfortable, as the chair sank down, being pushed down by the increasing weight of his butt.

"Um...car place?" David responded, looking down at the copy of Kevin's CV they had on the table. "I don't think your CV mentioned that..."

"It doesn't? That's weird, coulda sworn I put it on there." Kevin replied involuntarily. "Worked there most'a my life, haha." What was he saying? And why did his voice sound like that? All rough and tumble? Hair was pushing out through his skin, all over his body - along his arms, on his legs underneath his pants, on the belly underneath his shirt. He scratched his gut through the shirt.  "Ah geez, I'm itchin' all over..." he grumbled to himself.

David and Amber shared another look. "Give us a moment." He said, and turned fully to Amber. "Am I losing it?" David muttered as quietly as he could to her.

"You're seeing it too?" Amber whispered back. "Should we call a hospital? It looks...bad." She glanced back at Kevin, who was scratching his chest now, looking up at the corner of the room. She looked closer at his arms, and saw that the hair was really pushing out now, all over his body...including across his face. With a shudder, David noticed that his middle and index fingers were fusing together on both hands, as hair pushed out over them.

As the two were quietly discussing their changing client, he was changing even further. The fur - because of course, it was fur - was pushing out all over his body - on his belly, his chest, becoming rough. His hair wasn't untouched, becoming spiky fur upon the top of his head, and his ears were sliding up his head, as fur covered over them.

His lower face was left untouched by fur, but it was doing its own changing. His neck and chin were swelling with fat, filling out the collar of his pink shirt, as his jaw came forward. His nose was turning black, becoming a bit wet, as the upper part of his face pushed forward to match his jaw, turning into a fatty muzzle on his face. His ears were now settling atop his head, fur on the inside out, looking distinctly feline in appearance.

As for Kevin himself, he was a little confused. Why had he thought he'd never worked at a car place? He'd been a used car salesman for ages now! He was starting to wonder why he'd even come for this job interview in the first place.

He was broken out of his thoughts by David talking.

"Uh...Kevin...you're looking a bit unwell." he asked. "Do you want to go and get some assistance? Maybe do the interview another day?"

"Whattaya talkin' about?!" Kevin almost yelled out, before giving something of an obnoxious laugh. "I'm feelin' fine! Really, you two look like yer the ones who need a hospital visit. Hahahaha!" He slapped his knee, cracking up at his own joke, if it could be called that. Calming himself down, while David and Amber looked on a mix of fear and horror, he scratched his chin.

"Although...thinkin' about it, I'm not really sure why I applied for this gig. I'm pretty fine where I'm workin', thanks!" He said. He smirked a little.

Amber wasn't sure what to say. "Well...um..." She began. "I suppose that...wraps it up for today, Kevin, if you'd like to--"

"Kevin?" the fat feline responded. "Who the heck is Kevin? Ya forget my name? It's Pete!"

Amber looked back down at the CV. The name there clearly read Kevin. "Right...Pete. Sorry. Um. Well, uh, if you change your mind, let us know, and--"

"Ehh..." Pete cut across her rudely. "Don't expect a call any time soon, toots. Your place looks pretty stuffy." Amber flared up a little at the nickname, but didn't have time to do anything about it, as Pete got up from his chair, digging in the pockets of his blazer. He pulled out a pair of white, four-fingered gloves and slid them onto his hands, before picking up the blazer and slinging it over his shoulder. 

"Like I said - good where I am. See ya." Pete said, pointing a finger gun at the two bewildered humans, and made little 'pow' noises as he 'shot' them, before turning and heading out of the door.

There was a moment of silence. David and Amber slowly turned to each other, not sure what to say about what they'd just witnessed.

As they'd find out, when they left the little interview room, no-one else had seen the big fat cat-like character they described leaving the building. They asked the staff around the office, went down to the ground floor to the receptionist, but no-one seemed to know what the two were talking about. When they came back to the interview room, Kevin's CV had disappeared off the table, like it had never been there - and shortly afterwards, the memory that they'd ever had a young man in the building faded from their minds, as did the bizarre events that they'd witnessed.

As for Kevin - or rather, Pete - when he'd left the room, he'd ended up somewhere entirely different - a bright street, somewhere in a city that didn't exist in the same world as the room he'd just left. However, Pete saw nothing odd about this, as the memories of ever being in that room, or even being a human had utterly evaporated from his mind the second he'd left it. He slung his blazer into the back of his open-roof car, and quite literally jumped into the driver's seat - quite a feat for someone as fat as him. Of course, he didn't quite operate on the logic of our world any more.

With a rumble, the car started, and Pete drove away. As he did he felt another rumble in his stomach, and smacked his head with his gloved hand. "Dang it! Forgot to get lunch!" Making a quick detour, he smiled, looking forward to whatever meal he would have, since it was sure to be a big one. After all, he had appetite and confidence to spare.

[mrsavis-blog]

Whompdie whomp whom

I’m just going to jump straight into it...  I’m not 100% I’m going to get that job, and To be Honest... I’m cool w/ that. I mean, I would love to get paid very well for a Server. But I was not AT ALL looking forward to that commute, and nor am I sprinting towards work-life. I’m your typical creative soul... I need a lot of freedom and space & ability to move at my own pace. *Medium sigh*

But just to not jinx it either, they did tell me I have about 24hrs. I doubt they meant it literally but more figurately ... like in general, if I don’t hear from them at all today then it’s a “No thanks”... Hmmm did companies low key invent ghosting??? Because it’s totally the worse to apply to places, get an interview, and then be left hanging... It’s like thanks for financial blue balls... 

I don’t know about other people, but I take ALL relationships serious, especially ones that involve my finances. I do my homework before I even apply, full money background search on the J.O.B. I know how much I will be paid after taxes before I can even introduce myself to the manager. I already know exactly where my 1st FIVE checks are going, I know what day to look forward to on paying off my debt. Ect. ect. ect.  ... I’m not counting the chics before they hatch I’m just drawing up blueprints for their coop, and trying to set up deals for where I’m going to sell their eggs..

I don’t go overboard or anything... 

BUT D@MN I hate sitting around for anything & anyone. I’ve learned how to cope with an extremely short patience at a young age... Distractions + productiveness is the key.. Got to constantly be prepared with ways to fill up those life-sucking, nerve-wracking, black hole voids of “waiting on something/someone”. This is one of those times

I started last night... I just got up out of bed and started cleaning the kitchen... Cleaning is the best, absolutely one of my favorite ways to relieve stress & anxiety. This is why:

1. You get instant gratification; EVERYONE loves being in a clean environment. It’s like the aura of the room brightens and hums a silent soothing uplifting song that your spirit vibes to. 

2. I’m good at it: I get the details of a room done, and efficiently so. If you’re going to do something do it all out. I literally clean from the ceiling to the floor, and not only that but I sanitize & cleanse. Cleaning is just removing debris and making an area look less cluttered & disorganized or neglected. Sanitizing is when you actually kill the bacteria & viruses that threaten us (and I am a big Germaphobe so this really matters!). Cleansing is when you clear out bad vibes, I prefer to let in a lot of natural light, smudge, pray, and air out my place. 

3. It’s easy to do and can do it anywhere at any time. 

4. It makes life smoother. I LOVE just being able to go about things with minimum resistance.  For example, I don’t like having to look for things and or clean something when I need it at that moment. 

I feel like I’m beating a dead horse, you get the idea...

I started cleaning my kitchen and taking care of my loved ones... Going out my way to give them a great hot meal, and relaxed/ clean space to come home to after working a double. Their bed was ready, the food was hot & how they liked it, their favorite show was waiting for them to press play, their drink was poured, and no one was bothering them. 

Then after they were set, I began getting things ready for the morning... Putting out clothes to take my lil one to daycare; having their favorite morning snacks, their backpack, and outfit set up. 

The morning came & went, and I still continued to try to keep my mind off of staring at my cellie with busy work. I Cleaned someone else’s bathroom and I HATE DOING THAT. I’m talking about I scrub the DOG SH!T out of the toilet so well it looks got d@mn fucking new... You can see your reflection, and I even polished the faucet and bathroom appliances... 

EVERYTHING that can be washed is, sh!t I even rewashed sh!t that’s not even 3 days out of the last load.. I’m still thinking of other sh!t to clean...

It’s almost 3pm and that is just about 24 hrs ago from when I last spoke to the restaurant and I’m getting very anxious. 

I know there are other places I can apply & get a job. But I lowkey want this one because of YES! the money. But also because I feel like it would push me to WAKE THE F#CK UP! Get my life back on track to what I felt & remember how it was before my Dragon came.

There are a ton of things I know I out to be doing, and this would help force me to work on my self-discipline. Because there would be rewards (mostly in the form of a check) and consequences towards steering off the path towards my goals. 

OH THE F#CK WELL!! It’ll be what it’ll be lol... I just feel like if I think too much about not getting it then I’m somehow influencing the universe into not giving it to me, but also the opposite. That if I know I have it, that I’m lowkey manifesting it into existence, and I’m a little hesitant, to be honest. I’m not fully ready to get into all of that extra mess that comes with it. Even though I know it’s past time and will be no perfect job anytime soon. I’m kinda convinced that if I just chill and don’t feed either thought, then what is meant to be will be, and I will know for sure then what needs to be done. Lol regardless I’m getting a job, either way, just not fully convinced this should be the one.

WHAT I AM F#CKING TIRED OF THOUGH... IS ALL THESE D@MN TELEMARKETERS CALLING MY GOT D@MN CELLPHONE!! 

I’m over here about to flip out EVERY time my cellie rings, and I answer to some dumb sh!t. I have no idea what the phone number will be if they call me, so I basically have to answer all the calls. I keep blocking them, and they just call back with different numbers. 

Moving onwards to other topics, I am in a perplexing situation like constantly actually lol. But seriously I don’t feel like I have total anonymity and can’t be totally free with things my spirit truly moves me to say... So I’m thinking of starting a new Blog that’s a Satire of my own; I will mix in a lot of fiction with bits of truth... It’ll be obscene and vulgar without any censorship so you have been warned. I don’t know if it’ll be any good, but it will give me more practice on my writing skills. Unlike this. I don’t know exactly when I’ll actually work on it, but I usually get what I want to do done...soo eh.

On top enjoying allowing myself to blossom on here, I do very much have to find someone to sell my time to, doing tasks in exchange for tips. I need to go through my emails and the handfull of job sites I’ve joined over the past couple of weeks. It’s all rather a little bit depressing in its own, so I find myself avoiding the f#ck out of it all. Especially since our financial situation has gotten better enough for us to breath again instead of drown. But the sensation of suffocating is still wavering over me and clinging to my spirits, that I can’t help but constantly think about what I NEED to be doing.

I’m not procrastinating entirely I am checking my emails, and staring the ones to go back and open. I did check out another Fine dinging restaurant up the street from us and plan on filling out their application later this evening. I even did 3 interviews and take a competency test... Again I say I’m not sprinting... I’m kinda just moving barely into sparting gear (It’s not walking and it’s not a full out jog, it’s when you extend the length of your gait enough to be moving fast but not exerting yourself). 

I am working on self-discipline but forcing myself to not focus entirely on just one thing, and burning myself out. As well as see things through and finish things I’m having a hard time getting back into gear with.

It’s been a journey to say the least...

... One way I am planning on going about helping myself get organized to get the most out my time and get all I want to do crammed into a day... Is to go about these sessions/ entries at a more organized way. It’s fun just free-falling through words and jargon in my head, but the process is slow and time-stealing... I will start taking notes of the things I think about posting about throughout my day. They will either make the cut and be somehow smoothly discussed on here. Or they will be a bit too extreme or too vulnerable for me to freely discuss and placed in my Satire peace... There will be more of an intro kinda deal & an outro, and of course, there will still be MORALS... I will be basically just bullet pointing them, and then going in at will... So there’s still some form of free-falling, but no time lost one what to type up next, or getting lost in thoughts, or looking for the right GIF.

With that being said I do have to close out... So the MORAL OF THE SESS IS: “Don’t let rejection or the fear of rejection stop your life. Know your way of coping and find healthy outlets for your anxieties & stress. Don’t ever stop improving or believing in yourself, with that being said give yourself a break here & there.” .

Peace.