cobalt hair

Hi my name is Alex Sportscandy Sapphire Aerobics Busybody the Tenth and I have short cobalt blue hair (that’s how I got my name) with silver streaks and black tips and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Magnús Scheving (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Íþróttaálfurinn but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a sports elf but my ears aren’t pointed. I have tanned white skin. I’m also an aerobics champion, and I live in a town called Lazytown where I’m the town nice guy. I’m a hero (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly blue. I love Academy and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a white and blue shirt a with matching vest and blue striped track pants, a hat and tall blue boots. I was wearing dark black eyebrow pencil, mustache wax, white mascara and chapstick. I was walking outside Lazytown. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very sad about. Robert Rotten stared at me. I waved at him.

Coloring Hair with Copics:


I’ve been asked a few times how I color hair, and I’ve been dying to use my new cobalt liners, so here’s how that goes down.

Start off with your lines: I use Copic multiliners (Sepia and Cobalt here). I used Sepia for the skin and Cobalt for the hair, since I’m planning for the hair to be blue.
You could use black for everything, but I find it looks better with colored lines

Color in the Skin: next, color in the base (lightest) skin color. I used [E000: pale fruit pink] here, cause she’s gonna be pale. (Tip: move your marker in little circles to get even coverage)

Notice how the skin color bleeds into the surrounding hair, I do that on purpose! It helps the hair and skin color go together better…. yep  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Put down your lightest hair color: used [BG10: Cool Shadow]. Her hair’s gonna be blue, so her highlights are gonna be green-tinted.

Shade with Mid-tone: I used [B02: Robin’s Egg Blue] here, the blue color that I want her hair to be.

(Hair Shading Tip: move your maker from the roots of the hair towards the highlight. do the same from the tips of the hair to the highlight. this gives a sort of gradient going towards the highlight)

Repeat: wait a few minutes, and then repeat the last step with the same marker. Copic color will get darker the more layers you add.

notice how I’m defining the individual bunches of hair, and how there are more highlights on the left side of the image (because the light source is coming from that direction)

Use Purple for the shadow: We used green for highlights, so lets get some purple in there for the shadows. This gives the hair more dimension. I used [V22: Ash Lavender] for this.

Blend and add more Shading: basically just fuck around until you’re happy.

Add highlights with a gel pen: My favorite part. If you don’t have a white gel pen, get one, cause they’re magic. They make really crisp highlights.
you can also use white acrylic paint

Use markers over the Gel Pen: I used the [E000] and [BG10] over the gel pen to soften the highlights in some places. You can also use the markers to blend the gel pen slightly.

Aaaaaand you’re done!: I went ahead and shaded the skin in too ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 

hope this was helpful in any sorta way at all even tho im shit at explaining stuff lol. have fun kids

The True Epilogue (a Harry Potter fanfic)

*in which all my ships are true and things are great*

Several pairs of curious eyes followed the family of five as they pushed through the crowd at Kings Cross Station toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Atop the packed trolleys that the parents pushed were two cages- one containing a beautiful snowy owl and the other a badger, which made grumpy noises every few seconds.
“Hang in there, Comet,” the black-haired boy said placatingly. “I know it’s no fun, but you’ve got to behave.”
“I don’t know why you had to bring the stupid thing anyway,” his brother said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not on the approved list.”
“Yes, but he’s injured!”
“All your pets are or were injured.”
“And he has separation anxiety!”
“I bet they’ll take it away from you.”
“James!” their father scolded as Matthew’s bright blue eyes widened in fear. “Don’t say things like that. Your dad and I wrote to Headmistress McGonagall in advance, and she said it was fine.” Draco put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “No one is going to take Comet away.”
“Hey,” Harry said suddenly, “there’s Ginny, Luna, and the girls.” The youngest Potter shrieked and made to run toward the family friends, but Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Callisto Ariana Potter, what have we told you about running off?” he scolded. She smiled cheekily.
“Not to do it, I think.”
“Well, you think right. Look, here they are now, anyway.” The other family reached them, and there were cheerful greetings all around.
“So, shall we cross over?” Luna asked, and Ginny nodded. Their oldest daughter, Nymphadora, took a step forward, but her sister exclaimed, “Wait!” Nym raised an eye brow.
“What is it, Gillian?” The redhead bounced excitedly on her toes as she answered.
“This is Matty and my first year going through as actual students, so we should get to go first!” Matt held up both hands to show that he was not a part of this. Nym was already squinting, though.
“I say, whoever gets through first gets through first,” she said challengingly. She and Gillian turned and raced for the barrier together, disappearing through it within a second of each other. Ginny sighed in exasperation, pushing a trolley forward to follow them. Luna only looked amused as she trailed after her wife. Callisto tugged on Draco’s sleeve.
“I thought you said no running,” she told him, frowning.
“Yes, but I can’t control what they do. They’re not my children.” This argument lost its value, though, when James pushed ahead through the barrier as well. Harry groaned.
“I promise I’ll talk to him, Callie,” he said to avoid the rising complaints. The rest of the family followed James.
“Can I go this year, Daddy?” Callie asked. Harry shook his head with a chuckle.
“Just one more year, sweetheart.” She scowled and stamped the ground.
“Dad?” Matt said as James boarded the train with Nym (though Gillian stayed behind to wait). “Do you know what House I’m gonna be in?” Harry smiled and shook his head.
“No one knows for sure ahead of time,” he said, “but I know you’ll be great no matter what.”
“And luckily,” Draco added, “you know kids in every House, so you’ll always have someone to talk to.” Callie tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“I’m gonna be a Slytherin,” she said confidently. A little bit of pride shone in Draco’s eyes.
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Alright, Matt. Go on and take your stuff,” Harry said gently. “You and Gillian should get on board. You don’t want to get left behind. Matt nodded and moved toward the train, then swiveled and threw himself into his father’s arms.
"I’m gonna miss you,” he said. Harry hugged him hard.
“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.” Matt hugged Draco too, and then he and Gillian got their stuff and waded through the small crowd to the train door.
“We’ll write!” Draco called after him.
“Every day, if you want!” Harry added. Matt gave them a slightly wavering grin before disappearing.

Matthew thought he was ready for the Sorting. He thought he’d either be in Gryffindor, like Harry, or Slytherin like Draco. He definitely was not expecting the Sorting Hat to yell out “HUFFLEPUFF!” the moment it touched his head. To ecstatic cheers from his new Housemates, he made his way dazedly toward the Hufflepuff table. He’d heard Hufflepuffs called ‘duffers’ and 'goody two-shoes’ and even once 'the stoner House’, none of which sounded very positive to Matt. Still, he put on a brave face. A cobalt-haired Teddy Lupin clapped him on the back as he sat down.
“Glad to have you, Matt!” he enthused. That’s right! Teddy’s a Hufflepuff, and he’s not so bad. This thought didn’t erase his disappointment entirely, but it did help. What helped even more was hearing another shout of “HUFFLEPUFF!” immediately following a call of “Weasley, Gillian”. Matt broke into a grin as his best friend sat beside him.
“I can’t believe I’m a Hufflepuff,” he stage-whispered to her. Surprisingly, she rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Oh, please. Like you could have been anything else.” His eyebrows furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see. For starters, you’re a vegetarian. You always get one of your dads to take you to random volunteer things. You never let anyone get away with saying mean things. You take in injured animals- you’ve literally got twenty different pets now, if you hadn’t noticed- and your favorite just happens to be a badger, the symbol of Hufflepuff House. Honestly, if you’d been sorted anywhere else, I would have died of surprise.” Matt laughed.
“Well, when you put it like that.”
Any remaining worries he had about his Sorting vanished the moment they stepped foot in the common room. It was vastly wide and round, with honey-colored walls. The lighting was a mixture of natural light coming through the circular windows and and a warmer, golden light shining from within glass spheres on intricately carved stands. The room itself felt like mid-autumn and laughter. Best of all, there were animals. Matt suddenly understood why the Headmistress had given in to his parents’ request to accept Comet so quickly. There were maybe two dozen creatures- some magical (like a pixie and a clutter of puffskeins), some nonmagical (like a hawk, a dog, a rabbit, and a beautiful peacock). Matt heard a loud noise and turned.
“Comet!” The excited badger barreled across the room and into his legs. Matt crooned as he and Gillian bent down to pet it. A few of their new Housemates crowded around to coo at the addition to their strange zoo.
“I think this little guy will be happy here,” Teddy said. “As far as I know, we’ve never had a badger. Which is honestly ridiculous, given our symbol.” Matt laughed. I think I’m gonna like it here.

James had never felt so ashamed and rejected. The words still echoed in his head. “Not the right fit,” they had said. He, James Alexander Potter, wasn’t the right fit for Gryffindor seeker. It was humiliating. After all, his own dad had supposedly been the best seeker Gryffindor ever had, and Draco had been his Slytherin counterpart. Yet James had failed.
It wasn’t that James was vain or inflexible- when they said he’d make a better chaser, he’d tried out with all his effort and scored the spot. It was a matter of belonging. James, the oldest, was the only one of the Potter children who wasn’t the biological child of either parent. Matt was Harry’s- as anyone could see by the untamable hair and the awkward knobby knees. Callie was Draco’s- again apparent by the blonde hair and the confident ambition. James was alone with his plain brown hair and hazel eyes and his (apparent) lack of Seeking skills. To add insult to injury, this meant he was the only one with no blood ties to the Lovegood/Weasley family, which had been interwoven with the Potters’ in the cases of Matt and Callie, as well as Nym and Gillian. In any case, he wasn’t sure what to do now. He had no other way to prove himself worthy of being the son of the Chosen One.
“You know it doesn’t matter to them,” Aiden Finnigan told him. “Your dads, I mean. You’re their son, and they love you.” They were in the Gryffindor common room that evening, and James gazed into the fire, only half-listening as he dwelled on his own shame. He sighed.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just… man, you know I don’t normally care what people think of me, but this is different. People look at Matt and they see Harry Potter. They don’t even act much alike, but Matt’s got the look and that’s enough for everyone. Me, what have I got?”
“Bravery, willingness, an open mind, a mischievous nature, and great taste in friends.” James looked up from the fire for the first time in ten minutes, a ghost of a smile crossing his face, and gave his best friend a light push.
“Hey, I’m serious,” Aiden continued. “I mean, I’m not much like either of my dads. I mean, I’ve been told I look like a Finnigan, but I definitely don’t act like one. And Dad #2 likes to joke that I got my extreme height from him, even though I don’t carry any of his blood. I don’t act much like him either. And that doesn’t bother me. We’re not meant to be pale echoes of our parents anyway; we’re meant to find and shape our own identities.” James nodded.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“As always.”
“Oh, shut it.”
A few days later, James’s owl showed up at breakfast with a letter from Harry.

I heard you made the Quidditch team, and I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it if you wanted to- I’ve watched you fly, and you’re fantastic. Make sure to keep your nerves in check before games, okay? Ron can vouch for the fact that anxiety is a Quidditch player’s worst enemy. I’m not worried, though. Oh, I wish your Grandpa James could see you now. You know I never got to see him play, but he was a Chaser too in his day- don’t know if I ever told you that. He was also a hell of a prankster, just like you. McGonagall won’t tell you anything, because she can’t be seen condoning troublemaking, but if you see Fred floating around, he’ll tell you all the use he and George got out of the Marauders Map when they were students. Grandpa James is the one known as Prongs. I wish I could show you the map personally, but it went blank when Teddy’s dad died- he was the last Marauder standing; they called him Moony. Sorry, I’ve gone off on a tangent. My point is, we’re all proud of you, and your grandparents would be too. Lots of love,

James was stunned. His grandfather, the one he had been named for, was a Gryffindor chaser? How had he not known? He re-read the note once, twice. It appeared that he was a bit of a Potter after all. He was curious about this Map thing too; he’d better find Fred.

Ben was tired. Okay, maybe that was an understatement. “Exhausted” might have worked better; “barely functioning” was near perfect. He was tired because it was midnight and he was sitting in the hallway outside his common room. He was physically capable of going inside and lying down in his nice warm bed to sleep, but he could never do that. Neither could the thirteen other Slytherins sitting out in the hallway with him, including Nym. A prefect had come out three times now to order them all to bed, but no one budged.
“I’m not stepping foot in that place until they change the password,” Ben had told her the third time she came out. She had thrown up her hands and not come back, which earned Ben a few pats on the back.
The hallway was quiet enough that Ben could hear the footsteps long before anyone appeared down the far end.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered. Everyone tensed. Would they be punished for this? Ben hoped not, but he needn’t have worried. He let out a breath of relief when he saw Teddy Lupin heading toward them. The Head Boy had probably been summoned to help mitigate the situation.
“What’s going on here, guys?” he asked.
“The new password is offensive,” a fifth year girl answered, “and we’re not going in until they change it.” Teddy Lupin frowned- not at those in the hallway, of course, but rather at the situation.
“Oh? What’s the password?”
“Clean blood,” Nym spat disgustedly. Teddy only sighed outwardly, but his hair turning scarlet was a clear sign of his true anger.
“Alright, well we can’t have you lot just sitting in the hallway, so you’ll have to come stay with us for the night.” There were hesitant nods all around, and the beginnings of smiles on a few faces. Staying with the Hufflepuffs…
Before we go, I have to check who’s coming. Your prefects gave me the list of absent students. Please say 'here’ when I call your name. Jade Moorland?“
"Here,” said the fifth-year who’d spoken up earlier.
“Nymphadora Weasley?”
“Here,” Nym said, and Teddy smiled. He’d always seemed fond of the younger girl, though maybe it was because she bore his mother’s name.
“Joshua Bingham?”
“Here.” Teddy went on down the list, ending with “Benjamin Wood?”
“Here,” Ben answered.
“Alright, that’s everyone. Come on, you all!”
Ben liked the Hufflepuff common room. He liked how friendly everyone was. He liked the peacock, Heracles, who seemed to like him too. There were even more things he liked the next day: for instance, how a cluster of Ravenclaws took turns shooting charms at the Slytherin door, trying to change the password or else get it to open without one. Or how, when that failed, the Gryffindors- led by their prefect, who happened to be Ben’s older sister, Elizabeth- attempted to forcibly remove the door entirely. This series of tries failed as well, but it stirred up enough commotion to draw in the Headmistress and she, upon understanding the problem, rectified it immediately, to great cheers from all parties. Ben hugged his sibling.
“Thanks for the help, Lizzy,” he said.
“Any time, little brother. It’s a good thing you guys did here today, pushing for change. Dads will be proud.”
“Think so?”
“I know so. You’ll probably make prefect next year too.” Ben laughed.
“Oh, D1 would love that.” He imagined Percy’s face when he learned that both of his children were now prefects like he had been, and Ben felt a warm rush in his stomach. I’d love that too, he thought to himself. Lizzy just grinned.

Daisy hadn’t meant to start crying in the middle of Charms class; she just couldn’t hold it back anymore. She’d been trying to control her distress since the letter had arrived that morning from her father, letting her know that Grandpa Vernon didn’t want them coming over for Christmas that year or, it seemed, any year following. Of course, Dudley hadn’t explicitly told his daughter why they were no longer welcome, but she wasn’t dumb enough that she couldn’t figure it out on her own: it was because she had magic. It was already her second year at Hogwarts, but at holiday time last year her grandparents hadn’t known yet. Now they did, and Grandpa didn’t want to see her anymore.
She cried silently, with her head down, but her fellow Ravenclaws didn’t miss her shaking shoulders, and the room got quiet. Anna Granger-Weasley, her closest friend and the only one who knew what had happened, put a comforting hand on Daisy’s back.
“I know it’s not the same,” she whispered, so as not to disturb the rest of the class, “but you guys are totally coming to our Holiday gathering instead.” Daisy turned her head to look at Anna with teary eyes.
“We are?”
“Oh, absolutely. It’s a huge get-together that we do every year in James and Matt’s backyard. My Granny Molly makes twice as much food as we need, even though there’s already thirty-three of us in total. Uncle Percy drinks too much mulled wine and then goes on a rant about something or other, except none of it makes sense. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Oliver fight over which of their Quidditch teams are better- Ginny plays Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and Oliver is Keeper for Puddlemere United. Uncle George tells us stories about Fred and him when they were students together. Aiden’s little sister Mallory, Professor Longbottom’s daughter Bex, and Callie sometimes decide to put on some silly show. It’s all great fun.” Daisy smiled weakly.
“Sounds great. You sure there’s room for me and my mum and dad?” Anna laughed softly.
“There’s always more room at a Weasley party, and the Potters’ backyard is distinctly huge.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Daisy tried to grin after that, but Anna could probably tell she wasn’t back at 100%, because at lunch she started up a game.
“It’s called the Story Game. We take turns adding a sentence to a story as we go along. The sentences have to make grammatical sense, but the plot can be as strange or random as you want.”
“Ooh, sounds fun. Can we join in?” Daisy and Anna looked up to see Matt, Gillian, and Nym sliding in beside them (The school had recently switched to an open-seating policy to maintain camaraderie between the Houses).
“Yeah, sure,” Daisy said, scooting to make more room.
“Alright, I’ll start,” Anna said eagerly. She drummed her fingers in thought for a moment. “Okay. Once, there was an old, grumpy sorcerer who lived in a cave on a mountain.” Gillian jumped in next.
“The people at the base of the mountain believed that if you brought the sorcerer a gift that he liked, he would grant you a wish in exchange.”
“Every day,” Matt added, “Someone took a gift up the mountain, but the sorcerer didn’t like any of them.”
“Then a new woman moved to the town below,” Daisy inserted nervously, hoping she was doing this right.
“She heard about the man on the mountain, but nothing about his powers,” Nym put in. Anna’s eyes brightened as she saw where Nym was going with this.
“The woman thought the man must be lonely and perhaps cold all by himself, so she took a warm blanket and a fresh batch of cookies and brought them to him,” she said.
“The man was touched by her genuine generosity,” Gillian said, “and he offered her anything she wanted.”
“She thought for a long while, and finally she decided,” Matt contributed.
“And she asked, 'Can you put some brains in my son Tobias’s head, because he hasn’t got any.”
Anna snorted at the mention of her brother, and suddenly the whole group had dissolved into laughter.
“You can n-never tell Toby about this,” Daisy choked out between giggles. They all shook their heads in agreement, still fighting to contain the wave of mirth.
“This is why you’re my favorite,” Anna informed Daisy gleefully, and Daisy grinned. These really are the people I want to spend my holidays with, she realized.

Aiden’s heart started racing the second the blood red envelope landed in front of him at breakfast. He elbowed James, eyes wide with horror.
“It’s a Howler,” he said with a voice full of dread. James gave a sympathetic smile.
“It might not be so bad. Maybe it’s some really good news, or maybe it’s just a prank from someone. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Aiden shrugged.
“I mean, we did turn all Professor Longbottom’s gardening things pink and sparkly last week, but he didn’t seem to mind. I think he even sent a set home to Bex, who I’m sure was thrilled. It was an innocent bit of fun.” James smiled at the memory, but the smile dropped from his face almost immediately.
“Dude, it’s smoking at the edges.” Aiden jolted in alarm.
“Just open it, before it’s too late,” James counseled. Aiden took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and tore the envelope open.
When he heard his ten-year-old sister Mallory’s voice ring out, he thought he was safe. Just a prank after all. But then he heard her words.


For a moment, there was dead silence in the Great Hall, and then a hundred people started shouting at once. They were all muggleborns or half-bloods who watched Nevateria, the current most popular sci-fi show, and they were all furious at Aiden.
“I’m sorry!” he yelled. “I didn’t ask her to tell me!” James frowned.
“What was all that about?” he asked. Oh. Aiden had forgotten that, even though James’s dad was raised by Muggles, they didn’t watch television very often.
“It’s a show,” he tried to explain. “One of the best shows. And Mallory just spoiled it for everyone.”
Aiden was shamed by his non-pureblood peers for the rest of the day. It might have continued on longer, except that Toby Granger-Weasley ran up to him in the hallway after his last class, out of breath, and exclaimed, “The Room of Requirement can generate wifi!”
“AND it can be a movie theater!”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not! It’s officially the weekend. Let’s round everybody up and marathon Nevateria together, my guy! I’ve got Anna waiting in there so the room stays put. Whoever you pass, send them that way. We can get a few house elves to bring snacks. There’s tons of space, so if they want to watch too, that’s fine. Come on, let’s go!” Toby, Aiden, and James took off down the hallway together.
“Brilliant, you are!” Aiden exclaimed while they ran. “This is why you’re a Ravenclaw!”
The plan worked seamlessly. Everyone interested gathered in the Room of Requirement, sitting in movie theater seats, and they got the show to play. Several house elves carried around food and drink for those who wanted it, though a group of Hufflepuffs convinced two to sit down and watch for a while. It turned out Missy didn’t like it much, but Pokey was absolutely entranced. He babbled nonstop about the brilliance of it to his unfortunate neighbor, who happened to be Matt. Matt was too pleased at seeing a house elf freely enthuse about an interest to care. They all had a great time, and all the animosity toward Aiden ended. It was definitely a good day.

There would certainly be more struggles ahead for the Potters, Granger-Weasleys, (Lovegood-)Weasleys, Finnigans, Woods, Longbottom, Lupin, and Dursley, but they didn’t have to worry. They were one huge team, a family, and they could handle anything. Well, almost anything. It turned out there was still a limit on how many animals a single person could bring into the school, which was a problem for Matt, who found himself missing his other creatures.
“You know, when they say don’t do something,” James said oh-so-helpfully, “they just mean don’t get caught doing it.” Matt shoved his brother, insisting that he wasn’t like that, but in the end he snuck all his animals into the castle, with help from Callie. Family meant helping each other, even if it’s helping them break school rules… didn’t it?

I know the supports are terrible, but I just can’t not pair Chrom with Robin. It’s not for lack of trying, but (male) Morgan not having a big sister and having any color hair besides cobalt blue just feels weird to me, as does anyone else as Lucina’s sibling. Also, the judgement scene, the Summer Scramble dialogue, Chrom’s actual proposal/confession (that “wind at my back” speech), and even certain scenes that aren’t effected by who Chrom or Robin is paired with make up for the crummy supports.

anonymous asked:

If you take requests it would be amazing if you could do RFA+V&Saeran coming to MC with their friend and that would MC's abusive/mean ex? Just if you want, ofc. And I like your blog tho

omg this is gonna be angsty also thanks for liking my blog~ if you’re into MC seeing their ex lmao I got a funny headcanon where they Meet MC’s Ex. :)

P.S. I gave them names because y not??? don’t be offended when it’s ur name or whatever ok pls :( ily


  • they decided to meet at a nearby cafe but when he walked in, all he saw was MC standing in front of his friend
  • she had tears in her eyes, and coffee stains spilled down his friends white t-shirt
  • “MC? Allen? What happened…?”
  • his question was left unanswered
  • Allen grimaced at Yoosung apologetically
  • Yoosung looked at MC for an explanation, but her expression went dark, she looked at the floor and avoided his confused gaze
  • “MC, is everything-”
  • without another word, she ran out of the cafe with tears streaming down her face, pushing aside anyone and anything in her way
  • “MC!” he chased after her, but lost sight of her immediately after the door closed behind her
  • where did she go?
  • when he found her, it was already dark out
  • she was huddling against the wall of a back alleyway, shivering from the chilly winter air
  • “MC? Are you okay?” he approached her cautiously
  • “H- he’s my ex. The one I told you about. The one who hurt me every day like I was a pest under his control.”
  • he was so stunned he couldn’t speak
  • “Why did it have to be him, Yoosung? Why?”
  • MC looked like she was about to break
  • “It doesn’t. Not anymore, anyway. He’s no longer my friend. No one who dares to hurt you is my friend. No one.”


  • he felt a little iffy about it at first, you know, introducing MC to his friend
  • sure, he was the one dating MC but his friend was good looking too
  • maybe not as hot as he was ;)) but still, he was a little insecure
  • so fast forward to the day of
  • MC was waiting at the park bench, where they’d promised to meet
  • and as she saw Zen approaching, she excitedly stood up to greet him
  • but as soon as she saw the guy next to him, her expression changed completely
  • “MC! This is Michael, the guy I’ve been wanting to introduce to you for…”
  • “MC, are you listening?”
  • MC’s hands were clenched into tight fists, shaking slightly with anger
  • “I know who he is. I know him better than you ever will.” her voice was low, it sounded as if she was choking on every word she spat out
  • “What do you mean?” Zen reached out for MC’s hand, but she flung his hand away; looking up at him, he could see her face twisted with horror, fear and pain
  • “He’s my ex, Zen.” 
  • Zen’s eyes widened at that statement, not before long, he realized what she meant by that - who she meant
  • without a second thought, he punched Michael in the face
  • with barely enough time to react from the blow, Michael was then pushed to the ground with a loud thud
  • “I can’t believe it. And to think I thought you were a good person. I must’ve been blinded by your face - but not anymore. Now all I see, is the ugliest person in front of me. You disgust me. Get out of here.”


  • Jaehee was going through a few old photos of her highschool graduation
  • she was suddenly struck with a sudden realization
  • MC had never meet her best friend Sophie
  • “MC, come over here!”
  • she ran from the kitchen to join Jaehee on the living room floor with her stack of photo albums
  • “Look, this is was my best friend in college. She helped me through a lot of tough times. I haven’t contacted her a while because I’ve been busy with work, but I’m sure if I give her a text we could meet up some-”
  • “No.”
  • Jaehee was shocked at MC’s blunt answer
  • “It’s okay, she’s nice. And she’ll be so happy to hear that you and I’ve started dating!”
  • “No. No, she wont Jaehee.”
  • “But..”
  • MC was shaking, her eyes watering with tears who threatened to fall at any moment.
  • another word, and MC could fall apart
  • “Tell me.”
  • “She’s only hurt me from the moment I met her. I knew her back in college too, Jaehee. She was in my tutorial, and we hit it off right away but as time went by… she became exceedingly possessive. She hurt me because she didn’t trust me. She thought that leaving scars would-”
  • “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t want you to think about this anymore either. Let’s… let’s just go to bed, okay?”


  • aside from V, he didn’t have many childhood friends who lasted with him through all these years
  • there was, however, someone he really wanted MC to meet
  • and that was Chris, a nice guy who was outgoing but hardworking as well
  • “MC, tonight we’ll have dinner with an old colleague of mine, is that fine?”
  • “Sure, what’s his name?”
  • “Chris Lee”
  • MC tensed up at the sound of his name. it was surely just a coincidence… right?
  • when they arrived at the restaurant, Jumin began to approach the table nearest to the window that panned over the cityscape of lights and skyscrapers 
  • from afar, MC had already began to feel a wave of anxiousness twist her gut. Chris Lee. Blond hair, cobalt blue suit, black tie. 
  • It was him, and he hadn’t changed one bit
  • MC stopped walking as they passed by the bar
  • “MC? The table is up front, do you wish to visit the ladies room first?”
  • “Y- yeah.”
  • Jumin left for the table and had a nice chat with Chris, catching up on their business issues and other news
  • but soon, Jumin noticed that MC was taking an exceptionally long time; he was worried that she might have fainted
  • He asked a waitress to help him check the ladies room, but when she came back, she told him the bathroom was empty
  • Jumin ran outside and found MC sitting on the curb of road
  • “MC, what are you doing out here? It’s cold and not to mention rude for us to-”
  • “I can’t get any closer to him than this. Any further and I’d throw up.”
  • MC was wringing her hands, a sign, Jumin remembered, something she did whenever she mentioned her ex, Chris L… oh.
  • “I’m sorry, MC. Let’s go home. I’ll let him know dinner’s off, and so is our business deal.”


  • most hackers didn’t have friends - only enemies and government authorities
  • but Seven was different. he did have a friend: Mason
  • Mason was his church mate, a friend who knew his secret, but kept it regardless.
  • Seven decided that a beach bbq outing would be perfect for them to get to know each other
  • they got there first, setting up all the food and cooking utensils
  • “MC! Mason’s here!”
  • just as MC was dealing with the grill forks, she watched his friend approach
  • the similarities between her ex and Mason were eerie, except for the different name, she would’ve thought it was-
  • “Hey MC, remember me?” Mason grinned
  • there was no mistake, that was Mae, the sly smile confirmed it all
  • MC held out the grill forks in defense, distancing herself from Mason as much she possibly could
  • “MC, what’re you doing?” Seven laughed at her off pose, “Put those down, it’s okay, Mason doesn’t bite.”
  • “Yes, he does, Seven. In fact, that was his specialty. He used to bite me when we were dating. He teased me relentlessly, but I wouldn’t even call it teasing. He bullied me, Seven. He made fun of me and my insecurities, he used my trust in him against me.”
  • “W-what?”
  • “It’s true, Seven. I won’t lie that I was an asshole, but she was a bitch too. She ratted me out to my mom about my drug usage and-”
  • “ENOUGH.” Seven’s mind was going on information overload, but all he knew was to take MC away before she seriously hurt someone or even herself with one of those forks.
  • when they got back into the car, Seven noticed MC’s upset expression
  • “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he did such a thing to you in the past. I won’t be involved with him anymore. You can trust me right?”
  • “Yeah”
  • “You won’t threaten me with grill forks?”
  • he got slapped on the arm for that, but at least MC smiled at his remark


  • he didn’t have many friends - given what he’s been through, but he met one at his recent job and he was a nice guy
  • he wanted MC to meet Nathan because he thought that they’d get along and MC could help him if he ever made him mad or something like that (human interactions weren’t really his forte)
  • he opened the apartment door and invited his new friend inside
  • “MC, I’m home. I brought a friend.”
  • MC was in the kitchen, and answered him through the wall
  • “We have a guest? Give him a seat, I’ll get him a drink in a sec”
  • they sat down in the living room and made small talk until he heard MC’s steps approaching
  • “Sorry, we don’t have much at home, do you want coffee or tea-”
  • before she could finish her question, she dropped both cups and the glass splintered upon impact with the floor tiles
  • “MC! are you okay? did you get cut anywh-”
  • “Get him out of the house, Saeran.” her voice shook with fear, eyes dilated to an unnatural size. She looked like a deer in headlights
  • “GET HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE!” she screamed, covering her ears like she was suddenly afraid of the shrill in her own voice. 
  • Saeran ushered Nathan out of the apartment and carefully examined MC’s state of panic
  • “MC?” he asked just above a whisper, “are you okay?”
  • MC had tears streaming down her face as she grabbed onto Saeran for support. 
  • Her body was shaking violently. she was having an anxiety attack from something much too close to home for him to not realize
  • she was traumatized from previous abuse, and there was no denying that his nice friend, Nathan, wasn’t so nice after all.
  • “Sorry, MC. I didn’t know. He seemed nice, but nevermind that. I’m sorry, I won’t work there anymore.”


  • MC and him were going to go on a couple date
  • or.. more like couple photography session
  • he knew a guy who was just as good as him - Andrew
  • “Andrew and his fiance will be here soon, do you want to wait or we could start first?”
  • “Let’s wait, it’d be rude to-”
  • “Hey! Jihyun, we’re right behind you!” a voice called out from the distance
  • a voice vaguely familiar to MC, but she was unable to put her finger on it
  • as the other couple approached, she realized that this “Andrew” was also her “Andrew” from 2 years ago. 
  • “V, I want to go home. You guys can go ahead.”
  • “But MC, they just got here and today’s supposed to be a coupe photo-”
  • “I’M NOT FEELING WELL OKAY?” MC snapped at him unintentionally, but it had already taken effect. V’s face was evident of the painful shot he experienced just then
  • unfortunately, MC was louder than she thought, and Andrew had overheard as well
  • “Just let her go, Jihyun. This ass was always like that when I was with her. Complaining about this and that non-stop. I can’t believe you managed to seduce Ji-”
  • whoa that was unexpected
  • MC stomped away, back towards their car
  • V chased after her at a loss for words
  • “MC, I-”
  • “Its okay. You don’t have to say anything. You didn’t know, and I over reacted. I’m sorry.”
  • “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve let you know who were meeting up in the first place, it’s my fault. This could’ve otherwise been avoided. Will you forgive me?”
  • MC pulled him in for a hug, “I’ll always forgive you. Will you forgive me too?”
  • “Of course, MC.”

LOL i was low key gonna write drabbles but ya gurl was also lazy so here’s a mix of em’ both

~Cherry L.

Masterpost: click here

Askbox/Requests: click here


Like Us Characters: Audrey Cobalt

Our youngest child opens her mouth to speak, but with every eye on her, she forgets her words. “…I…”
We all wait patiently.
“You?” I try to help her without making her feel inadequate.
“I am…” Her cheeks suddenly flush, and she plops back to her bottom, clutching tight her Victorian hat.
The three oldest children drum the table for Audrey.
“Such wise words. I am,” Jane tells Audrey.
Audrey perks up. “Thank you, Jane.”

Dean Winchester has no Control over his Mouth

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Word count: 1,638

Rating: Teen (some swear words and nudity, I guess)

Read on AO3

Summary:  Dean has had a huge crush on one of the members of the opposing football team.

When he finally get’s a chance to talk to the guy alone, Castiel has just fallen out of the shower into their dressing room and is naked and kneeling in front of him. Dean’s brain short-circuits and it all goes downhill from there.

That is, until he finally realizes that the gorgeous guy in front of him is his soulmate.

Note: A week ago, a good friend @thoughtfullysmilingbutterfly and I had a talk about fanfiction. When I told her about my interest in unusual soulmate-aus (for example: swear words or obscene sentences tattooed to your skin) we decided to give each other a soulmate-sentence and write a fic about it.

And because she’s such a sweetheart, she gave me this one: “This situation right here is what I usually masturbate to.” Of course, I had to turn it a little more innocent, just because :)

Dean’s running off the football field, helmet in his hand, damp hair sticking to his head. It hadn’t been a particularly good game today, but they had still beaten their rival college’s team, which is what’s important when it comes down to it. His entire team is still celebrating their success on the field, but Dean feels sweaty and disgusting and altogether just isn’t in the mood for all of this pretentious crap, so he’s heading to the dressing room to take a shower. It had taken him some time to untangle himself from his team’s way too enthusiastic group hug, though.

To be honest, him rushing to reach the showers is mainly based on his hope to cross paths with one of the guys from the other team. Since they all already left to shower and get changed, it’s possible that number 5, with his incredibly blue eyes, is still around. Dean has had a silly crush on the guy since… probably since the first time they’ve come close enough to each other on the field for him to actually see the man’s face. He doesn’t even know his name, but he’s been having embarrassing fantasies about him for months.

In his defense, number 5 is ridiculously attractive; tousled dark hair, shining cobalt blue eyes, fucking amazing cheekbones and those legs, Dean could talk about them for hours. The whole football equipment doesn’t look bad on him either.

Dean has spent countless nights thinking about how to start a conversation with the gorgeous guy, but he has never actually dared to make a move and talk to him. See, the problem is Dean’s soulmate tattoo. It’s on his left forearm, prominent black words on pale skin. “Oh, so you are the person that made my life a living hell.” Ever since the mark appeared on his skin he has been scared about meeting his soulmate and finding out just what he has done to him. It got him to the point of being afraid of starting a conversation with new people.

Dean is literally super careful about what he says, how he talks to and about others and especially how he approaches strangers. He has never insulted, let alone bullied, anyone, he actually gets along with everyone he knows. But you could say that he has lost so much sleep over his tattoo, that he’s practically overthinking every single conversation he has these days because you can never know who barges in and listens to one of your sentences.

Castiel has tried to give his best during today’s game, but his team has lost nevertheless. Thanks to his coach, who had threatened to assign him a seat on the bench for god knows how long if he doesn’t up his game today, he’s been running as fast as never before. His legs are already quivering and all he can think about is going home and spending the rest of the day in a horizontal position without having to moving again. But at least his trainer is satisfied with his performance.

He took some extra time on the field to let his team retreat to the showers first and grabs his duffel bag to walk into the building about 15 minutes later. The reason for him to let them go first is that he’s pretty embarrassed about how he’s currently more waddling than walking. His legs hurt like shit and he really doesn’t need his teammates to make fun of him on top of that.

When Cas enters the dressing room, his teammates are all already finished and there’s only one man left, who is currently putting his shoes on. He dumps his bag on the bench across from the showers, grabs his towel and throws it over one of the shower rods. Hoping that the warm water is going to soothe his aching muscles, he’s quick to pull his shoes and clothes off, grab a shampoo bottle and finally close the shower curtain behind himself.

It’s only been about two minutes when he first starts to feel his legs getting weaker, but he ignores the feeling in order to keep enjoying the refreshing shower.

Considering all of this, what comes next really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. When he tries to turn his body to face away from the steady stream of water and towards the shower curtain, he slips on the soapy tiles of the shower. Immediately, his thighs give in and his legs are not helpful at all in trying to prevent him from falling.

He scrambles to catch himself from crashing to the floor by holding onto the shower curtain, the only thing separating him from a room full of god knows how many members of the local football team.

This, of course, only makes matters worse- and Castiel has nobody but himself to blame for that. Naturally, the old, plastic shower curtain isn’t able to support the weight of a full-grown, well-trained, nineteen-year-old football player.

The curtain rips from the rod, Cas loses his grip on it, crashes on the floor of the dressing room and is basically visible to anyone who might be in there. He lands on his knees, butt-naked, the curtain on the tiles next to his knees.

And because the whole situation isn’t already embarrassing enough, Cas finds himself eye-to… well, eye-to-crotch with a guy. A guy, who has apparently been in the middle of undressing, considering that all he’s wearing are tight, green boxers. Fuck, he really doesn’t want to take a look at the face of whoever’s crotch he’s currently staring at. Instead of checking who it is he’s kneeling in front of, he starts grabbing for the shower curtain and quickly scans the room. Okay, at least this guy’s the only witness to the shit-show that is his life.

Dean’s pretty sure that his brain simply collapses as soon as it takes in the full glory of number 5- fuck, he should really find out what his name is- naked, tan skin wet from head to toe, dark hair damp, blue eyes wide and on his fucking knees right in front of his crotch.

That’s the only reasonable explanation for the thought he’s about to voice out loud. The last thing he registers before the words practically shoot out of his mouth, without any kind of permission of his brain, is that the guy is apparently scrambling to grab the shower curtain to cover himself.

“This situation right here is what I usually masturbate to,” he chuckles. And fuck, he could slap himself right in the face for that sentence. Way to make a good first impression, Winchester.

The man in front of him stares at him with wide eyes for about five seconds, huffs out a breath and answers in a completely calm and serious voice. “Oh, so you are the person that made my life a living hell.”

It only takes a few seconds and a quick glance at the guy’s exposed wrist for him to figure it out. Shit. SHIT! Well, at least he finally knows what exactly went wrong. The one time he lets his dick talk… and his soulmate has to live with its words tattooed on his arm. Wonderful, the guy’s parents probably hate him. The guy himself probably hates him. Fuck.

Fuck, I’m so sorry! I’m usually so careful with what I say to people!! I know, um. I know this is stupid and, honestly, I’d get it if you hate me and all that, but… I’ve been waiting to meet you for so long and now I fucked it up, dammit.” At this point, he’s straight up rambling but he can’t stop himself either. “Maybe I could try and make it up to you? I um, I know a place that serves the best apple pie ever. Um, it’s like two blocks away. I could drive us there- If you want, that is.”

He doesn’t even need to see the grin on number 5’s face to realize that, on top of his embarrassing rambling, his face had turned scarlet red. He brings his hand to his neck and tries his hardest not to let his eyes wander from the face they are currently locked on to stare at his soulmates mostly naked body.

Damn, the guy looks adorable with a blush. Not that he wouldn’t look good without it; broad shoulders, toned tummy, plush lips, spiky blonde hair, freckles and amazingly green eyes. And he seems genuinely embarrassed about what he had said earlier in the heat of the moment… maybe he deserves a chance?

“Honestly, I’ve always wanted to get to know the person that would throw a line like that at someone they don’t know at all. So, yes. Let’s go get some pie.” He gets up from his kneeling position, looking way more confident than he feels, turns around, leaves the shower curtain on the floor and reaches for his towel. If he happens to push his butt into the other man’s direction a little more than what would be necessary- well, it isn’t as if he hasn’t already seen him in all his naked glory anyways. When Cas turns back around, lower body finally wrapped in his towel, he raises his hand. “Castiel Novak, by the way.”

“Awesome!” He shakes his hand with a shy smile. “Um, Dean Winchester. I’m just gonna take a quick shower, change and we can go- if that’s alright?”

“Okay. I’m going to finally put on some clothes. You know, to spare myself further embarrassing situations,” Cas laughs.

“Just so you know, it wouldn’t mind it if you’d decide to spend some more time walking around naked!” With a cheeky grin, he pulls his boxer shorts down, winks at Cas and saunters off to take a shower.

Tag list: @planetahmane @th3se-tacos-taste-funny-to-you @agathamorse @justyourordinaryfangirl @castielinparadise @carefreegirlat221b

If you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know with a short message :)

Title: The City of Nightless Blossoms // Chapter I

Series: Owari no Seraph
Pairing: Hyakuya Mikaela x Hyakuya Yuuichirou
Rating: M (18+)
Summary: The year is 1814. Isolated from the rest of the world, and under the strict military rule of the Tokugawa Shogunate, Japan successfully enters a period of social and economic stability, ending the political upheavals from centuries past. Even so, beneath the veneer of peace lies corruption amongst the ranks of government, excess and decadence, and the threads of the established social order slowly beginning to unravel.

Hyakuya Yuuichirou is a young samurai from the daimyo house of Hiiragi, a powerful vassal to the current shogun. Vowing his allegiance to the master who had taken him in as a child, Yuuichirou soon finds his loyalties torn when the childhood friend he’s been searching for abruptly turns up…as a member of a rebel group looking to dismantle the current regime.


Keep reading

Robcina Week 2017 - New Parenthood

Title: A Pleasant Surprise 

Description: Morgan really wants to meet her mom. What right does Robin have but to introduce the two. 

Words: 733 

Authors Note: Changed Morgan’s age a bit to better suit her personality.

“So… when can I see her?”

Robin halted the movement of his quill, feeling the blood drain from his already pale face. The urge to ignore the question was quite immense however guilt quickly overcame all previous emotions.

What right did he even have?

When receiving silence for a response, a young girl with a head of beautiful blue hair grumbled in annoyance.

“Daaaaad,” Morgan drawled out, crossing her arms with agitation. Puffing out her cheeks as would a child, the thirteen year old looked on as Robin leaned back into his chair.

‘No time like the present, I suppose.’

As if losing a valuable argument, Robin slowly rose to his feet and gave a slight incline of his head. “Alright, alright. Hood on first then we can go.”

Listening to instructions, Morgan flipped her long coat’s cowl over her cobalt colored hair and proceeded to follow her father out of the moderate sized tent.

The camp was lively with local Shepherds treading about. Giving his usual greeting to each passerby, both tacticians continued on towards their designation. A few moments later, Robin gave his daughter a quick motion to stay put.

Lucina was practicing her sword technique near the outskirts of the campground. Not noticing the two newcomers, the princess continued on with her rigorous practice.

Mouth near agap, Morgan stood transfixed watching her mother. She had little knowledge of the way of the sword but from what was occurring before her eyes, this was something on a whole different level.

“Wooow,” the young girl spoke in awe, gaze never leaving Lucina’s form. Smiling at his daughter’s excitement, Robin was moments away from calling out to the princess before a blur of black sped past him.

A second was all it took before realization on what was to occur hit Robin. “Wait! Morgan stop!”

At the sound of a voice, Lucina halted her actions before spinning on the heel of her boot. An impact, albeit light, collided into her stomach, causing the future heir to lose her balance and topple to the grassy turf.  

“Sorry! I’m sorry but that was so cool!” A feminine voice rang out as Lucina slowly opened her eyes. The color blue, a shade much like her own locks, occupied her immediate attention as the stranger continued to prattle on. “You’re really awesome and I can’t believe you’re my mo-”

“Morgan!” Footsteps interrupted the duo as Robin fled to the scene. Having witnessed the previous events unfold, the strategist felt his body break out in cold sweat as he struggled to maintain his composure. ‘Okay, best to break the news easily…’

With a slight narrowing of her brown orbs, Morgan clutched onto Lucina’s forearm as the older woman propped herself into a sitting position. “Aww, but Dad! I’ve already waited one whole day from meeting Mom, it’s not fair!”


“My apologies… but what did you just say?” Lucina questioned as the three occupants froze statue-still.

Stifling a tired sigh, Robin scratched the back of his head before making eye contact with Lucina. “Sorry… I um, well…” Stuttering over his own words, Robin fought to find the correct words as his companion blinked with confusion.

Fed up with her parents display of conversation, Morgan leaned towards her mother until they were face-to-face.

“My name’s Morgan. I’m thirteen years old and my birthday is on May fifth. I really don’t like vegetables but if you tell me to, I’ll eat it. I also know how to use magic and I want to learn the sword but I remember my dad saying it was too dangerous which doesn’t make sense because using a tome is also bad and-”

The child continued to chatter on, oblivious of the shock that became apparent on Lucina’s face.

“Uh, uh… wait what!?”

Fed up with how she was getting nowhere, Morgan sprung forward and wrapped her thin arms around Lucina’s waist. Happiness overcame the petite child’s emotion as she buried her face into the older teenagers midsection.   

“I’m so glad to meet you, Mom!” Morgan all but shouted into the silk cloth.

Robin held still as he watched the family interaction unfold before him. Noticing Lucina slowly raise her arm with slight shakiness, she timidly patted the top of Morgan’s head in a gentle manner.

After a minute of hesitation, Lucina finally voiced her opinion with a somewhat delicate smile. “It's… very nice to meet you too.”

Summer Heat

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: After moving on from an unstable relationship you find yourself taking a Veterinarian job far from the city in hopes of having a fresh start. Upon your arrival events change your plans making you have a rocky start, could this means smooth roads ahead or a repeat in your past mistakes. Time will tell.

Word count: 1,703

Warnings: none

A/N: This is my first AU, criticism would be appreciated. Any who enjoy :) @bovaria (I do not know how to work le mobile app)

On a dark moonless summer night, with only occasional bolts of violet lightning to relieve the pitch blackness, You stretched your stiff legs as best as you could while driving the rented moving van. All your worldly possessions were stuffed behind you as you drove the long five hour trip. Turning left onto a gravel road, you heaved a relieved sigh,almost there now, almost to your new home in the country away from all of the problems back in the city.

Off in the distance, an orange, yellow, and red glow flickered on the horizon. A fire! Oh no! You pulled into the long winding driveway as flames leaped, dancing in the wind, while devouring the old weathered wood barn before you. The flames licked at the dry old wood, you jumped from the van and ran toward the blaze. That barn was supposed to be an animal shelter and headquarters for your new job. You felt like you were watching a funeral pyre for your new life. What kind of sign was this for your new beginning?

The fire, hot as the hinges of hell, singed your hair as you ran into the choking cloud of billowing black smoke. Trying your best to keep your burning eyes open for a sign of life you collided into what felt like a brick wall making your knees buckle.

“Whoa, little lady.” Large calloused hands clasped around your shoulders keeping you upright and guided you back out of the heat.

Your heart caught at the sound of the deep, rich baritone voice. The mans cobalt eyes locked onto yours then widened with surprise. Or was it appreciation? Perhaps the scorching heat was roasting your thinking processes? Something soft squirmed against your chest before you realized his brawny arms were filled with whimpering kittens. He was rescuing the baby animals! Although glistening with sweat and smudged with charcoal, too sooty to distinguish his features, he seemed like a knight in not-quite shimmering armor. “Who are you?” You whispered.

“I’m James.” James remembered his manners at the same time as the wiggling weights in arms mewled softly. “Here.” He gently placed the bundle of startled kittens into your arms before brushing a stray lock of hair from your eyes. James wondered why no one warned him that you were such a beauty. “You must be y/n, the new vet,” he tossed back over his shoulder as he again ran toward the barn to save more animal shelter strays.

You settled the newborn kittens on the grass, well away from the blazing barn, as fire engines roared into the driveway. Firemen hollered out directions to each other, working in harmony with hoses to blast water into flames. James hauled out the baby kitten’s mother, handing it and three more strays to you, before dashing back for another rescue.

Professionals that they were, the firemen had the inferno down to a smolder in no time. One of the fire fighters led you to a large neighboring ranch house at the end of the lane and informed you the owner said for you to take care of the rescued animals there.

Although you kept your hands busy by washing the smoky scent from the kittens, your mind zoomed from one worry to another with the speed of a NASCAR race. What would you do now? What about your job at the animal shelter? Now that the barn was burned to a pile of ash, where would you live if not in the loft? Did fate have something personal against you, for your fresh start to begin with disaster? Wasn’t it all but a flashing neon sign advertising that you’d made a wrong decision to move here?

Oh no. Would your new veterinarian partner want to rebuild the animal shelter? You’d never spoken with him directly, but had been interviewed by the relocating vet who was to hire a replacement partner. What did the future hold for you?

You sighed deeply. Only two hours ago you were giddy with glee, full of positive attitude, and excited at the potential for the new direction you were taking with your life.

Despite the animal shelter in ashes down the lane, again and again, you wondered just WHO precisely was James? Where had he come from and would you see him again? He wasn’t what you would call handsome, covered head to toe in grime, but there was something about him – something you liked. Something you hadn’t felt for a very long time. Something that happened instantly when your gaze met. Well, you conceded, your head-on collision could have knocked your senses out of whack. You’d simply misread the physical impact. Nah. It wasn’t chemistry.

No sooner you settled the kittens into a make-shift bed, than you heard the smooth baritone that you recalled from earlier. Turning your head toward its source and your mouth went dry. Surely this wasn’t James? This man was freshly showered, his features no longer smudged and indistinguishable. You inhaled deeply as you detected the pleasant sensation of his pure masculine scent. With his tan coloring, black hair, and cobalt blue eyes that also held a mixture of humor, wisdom, and kindness, the man before you could give any number of professional male models a run for their money in the fluttering-of-the-female heart department. The smoky voice was saying something to you, but your heart was thudding too unevenly to hear. This man couldn’t possibly be James-the-kitten-rescuer, could he?

Yet he smiled slowly at you gaping mouth and that rich deep tone rumbled, “You okay, Ms y/l/n?”

Swallowing hard, you forced your gaze away from his humorous one before your face could betray your thoughts. He looked like a modern-day gladiator with broad shoulders, corded neck, and perfectly sculpted face. When you dared another glance, he stared down at you for a moment. From the twitching at the corner of his mouth, you guessed he was trying to hold back a laugh. You weren’t to sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him now. Instead, you cleared your throat. Twice. “I’m fine thanks.”

James leaned his back against the wall and stuck his hands in his belt loops, regarding you with that same lazy, sexy smile. Flustered you looked away.

James held out one large hand. “I’m James Barnes by the way, my friends call me Bucky.” He shook your hand “Welcome to Safe haven ranch, y/n.” You detected a slight drawl in his smooth voice.

You snorted ineloquently. “Yeah sure. I arrive just in time for lightning to strike and start an inferno. Some omen, huh?”

James tried to catch his breath, reminding himself of why he couldn’t let himself like her. Or touch her for to long. Yet he couldn’t release the smooth hand in his. Your touch was affecting him like being struck with a white-hot bolt of lightning. “Hmm. Start an inferno is right.” He smirked cheekily at you as you glanced to your feet heat assaulting your face once again.

He reluctantly released your hand when you tugged. You chewed on your bottom lip as your eyes narrowed on him. He was awfully arrogant for a ranch hand, “How was it that you were there at the fire so quickly?” You questioned not really certain of his place here.

“I live here.” You swallowed hard, then practically squeaked your realization. “YOU.” It wasn’t a question. For the first time, James wondered if the attraction went both ways. You didn’t sound necessarily pleased about it. In fact, your next statement sounded more like an accusation. “YOU are my new partner!”

James nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Dr. James Barnes D.V.M. at your service.” When you all but growled your frustration, he added, “Don’t worry. We’ll rebuild.” like it was no big deal for him or that it affected you completely.

You tossed your hands in the air before hitching a thumb back toward the lane. “I can’t exactly live in that moving van while the shelter is under construction.” The long tiring drive here did in fact help stomp on your mood.

James took a step toward you and closed the gap. He watched your breathing speed up. “You can live with me until then. There’s lots of rooms to choose from. I look forward to a long and fruitful relationship.”

You shook your head, flipping your hair back over your shoulder, then tipped your stubborn chin in the air. “That’s partnership, mister. Not relationship.”

“Yes,” James agreed. “That too. It takes an equal partnership for any relationship to work. After you interviewed for the job, the vet you’re replacing told me you’re sweet, big-hearted, and a good doctor. He failed, however, to mention how beautiful you are.”

You grumbled, “He failed to mention my future partner could double for an arrogant male model if he needed a change of employment.” You whipped your eyes off his form-fitting t-shirt as you bit your tongue. Regardless if you liked it or not he definitely has an effect on you. Taking a step back you let out a breath you didn’t realize you where holding.

James shook his head. Oh yes, this would be interesting. She was definitely interested in him whether she wished it so or not. Fate had definitely handed James a blessing when He sent you. The animal shelter burning down was like a flashing neon sign for James’s life, sending you into more than his business, sending you into his home as well. Fate was on your side, too. You just didn’t realize it yet.

James motioned toward the hallway. “Pick a room, any room, for your stay. Then I’ll help you carry in your suitcases so you can shower away the smoke and soot from the fire. In the morning, I’ll help you unload the moving van.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Welcome home, Dr. Y/n y/l/n.”

With that, you spun around and practically stomped toward the hallway ready to leave the eventful day behind.

You felt his eyes on you as you retreated to a room at the end of the hall. Hoping tomorrow would be a better start.

Lips as Red as Blood - part 4

Now in the far north of the land, where perpetual snows made an unwritten page of the landscape and the trees snapped in twain under their burden of white and great rivers of ice flowed from the mountains to the valleys, there dwelt a powerful sorcerer named Shaw.

He hated the fae, for their powers rivalled his own and he would brook no equal.  He took as servants those who had been touched by the fae and taught them their gifts were a curse and that they should hate the fae who had so cursed them.

His greatest servant was Erik the Hunter.  Shaw had brought up Erik from a child and had often told him how the fae had slaughtered his parents and gifted, or rather, cursed him as a grim jest.  Erik’s curse was to know the mind of metal and bend it to his will.  He felt the currents that moved the compass needle and could change their course.  Iron answered most readily to his call.  It took many years of harsh training before he could master other metals, but now, in his twenty third year, all bowed to his command.  Gold like sunlight, silver like the moon, copper like the bright leaves of autumn, steel like spring rain and iron like thunderheads; he was liege lord to them all.

Shaw was a stern master, but Erik owed him his life and and living and felt bound to him.  Sometimes he dreamed of another life.  A workshop where he created beautiful things of metal.  A cottage with a vegetable patch and flower beds.  Children who called him father and laughed in play and cried at scraped knees, who he could protect and love.  No wife though, for Erik was doubly cursed.  His thoughts of love turned not to women, as was natural, but to men, an abomination in the eyes of God and man.  Shaw had discovered his second curse and told him it was of the fae also, so Erik hated them greatly.

The sorcerer called Erik his Hunter because any man Shaw wanted dead, Erik slew.  He never failed.  How could he when his arrows never missed and his blades ever struck true, dancing to his power?  His enemies weapons flew from their hands or turned upon their masters.  He could track a man by the metal he carried and the iron in his blood.  He had even slain fae; who are stronger, faster and more cunning than men and have their magicks.  Iron is poison to the fae.  Erik was grim beyond his years and all feared him, save his master, Shaw, who called him his son, though Erik was no child of his.

Kurt, Lord Marko, Regent of Westchester, made the long journey to Shaw’s fortress one frozen summer.  He brought gifts of gold and silver and gems.  He spoke flattering words and bowed down to Shaw and feared and hated him.  Shaw saw his heart and was amused.

“Honoured as I am by your visit, Lord Marko, surely you have come so far on such a perilous journey for more than an exchange of courtesies?”

“I have a stepson of some sixteen years of age, my Lord Sorceror, the heir to the kingdom.  Since I married his mother, the Queen, many … accidents have befallen him, yet still he lives.  Stones fall from crumbling towers and miss him by inches.  Brigands plan to waylay his carriage, yet stand aimlessly by while it passes.  His favourite dish is placed before him at dinner and he will not touch it and the food is found to be poisoned.  He has a charmed life.  People whisper he is protected by the fae.”

Shaw smiled.  Beads of sweat formed on Marko’s brow.  Erik, standing at Shaw’s side, thought him a contemptible creature.

“All this is most interesting, but what has it to do with me?”

“I have heard, Great Sorcerer, you are able to know all the secrets of a man merely by touching something he has much handled.”

“This is so.”

Marko produced a bright blue tunic from a satchel.

“This belongs to my stepson, Lord Shaw.  Would you do me the great favour of telling what you glean from touching it?”

Shaw nodded graciously and gestured to Erik to bring the tunic to him.  As soon as Erik touched the garment, he felt a strange thrill run thorough his whole body.  He stood amazed.

“Erik, the tunic,” snapped Shaw.

Much loathe, Erik bowed and handed it to his master.

Dark currents moved about Shaw’s head and hands.  The shadows deepened.  Strange whisperings sounded at the edge of hearing.  Marko looked as though he was going to void his bowels.  Shaw laughed.  Marko went white as the snow on the window ledges.  Shaw chuckled.

“Lord Marko, your stepson is not protected by the fae, he is fae, or at least half of their blood.  His mother begged him as a boom from the forest spirits and their filthy touch is all over him.  He has the power to read men’s minds.  He has the power to change men’s minds.  He is a dangerous creature indeed, as is his companion, the golden haired, grey eyed, peach skinned girl.”

“The Lady Darkholme?” cried Marko, astounded.

“She is full fae, blood of their blood, bone of their bone, ancient and accursed.  Would you see her true form?”

Marko trembled and nodded.

The dark currents poured into the centre of the cavernous hall and surged up to form the image of a young girl, as Shaw had described her, a pretty, fair haired, fair skinned, plump cheeked child.  The currents swirled.  Her skin turned to scales of cobalt, her hair as red as the fires of hell and her eyes golden as some fanged forest beast.

Marko shuddered.  The image disappeared and the currents dispersed and faded into the shadows.

“Monstrous is she not?  And this is the companion your stepson chooses.  Hers are the words that govern his actions.  Fae and half fae.  You are in great danger, my Lord Marko.”

The Regent fell to his knees.

“Help me, Lord Shaw, help me I pray.”

Shaw stood and stepped down from his throne.  He gestured for his guest to rise.   Marko clambered ungracefully to his feet.

“I will gladly help you against the treacherous fae.  Erik here is my most trusted servant.  I call him my Hunter.  He has slain many, men and fae.  He can do what is necessary to protect you and the kingdom of Westchester.”

Marko’s gaze fixed on him.  Erik smiled widely.  Marko blenched and turned to Shaw.

“Thank you, my Lord Socerer, thank you.  I am forever in your debt.”

“Oh, not "forever”, Lord Regent,“ said Shaw, smiling his silky smile.  "Come, let us take refreshment and speak more on this grave matter.”

They walked away, side by side, Sorcerer and Fool.

Erik thought on what he had seen and heard.  Marko had obviously been trying to kill his stepson, but if the boy was half-fae and consorted with fae, he was hardly to be blamed.  Yet something stuck in Erik’s craw.  Marko had thought the boy human until this day.  Then there was the fae girl.  Erik knew he should find her blue and scarlet and gold form vile, but he did not, he found her beautiful.

He picked up the tunic.  It was scorched as though it had passed though fire.  It drifted to ashes in his hand.




Sucker For Pain (M)

Summary: It’s his signature, of sorts…

Warning: brief mentions of mature content (hence rating), foreplay (of sorts), slight cbt


Taehyung’s in a pickle.  Honestly, pickle is too light of a word to describe this situation he’d found himself in. No, Taehyung was in a crisis. He was at the crux of a life altering decision and he was just as lost as he had been all those hours ago when his plague began. He just couldn’t seem to make up his mind. He stared at the smallish boxes in his hand, eyes sweeping back and forth between them as he tried his hardest to decide what color to dye his hair.

Should he go cool and edgy with cobalt hair or he should be a fiery blaze of firetruck red? The voices in his head weren’t helping him at all because they seemed to want to talk about everything but his dilemma at hand so he did the only thing he could think to do and tuned out the senseless voices in his head as much as he could so he could better hear his voice of reason. “Which color?” he asked in the most serious voice he could muster as he held up the boxes of dye.

“Either will look wonderful on you,” Yoongi tossed over his shoulder, far too absorbed in the blueprints and security footage and photographs spread out in front of him to actually pay attention to his beloved boyfriend’s real-life crisis.

Taehyung scoffed loudly and deadpanned, “I know I’ll look good with either. That’s why I got both. Because I couldn’t decide. Which is why I asked you.”

Yoongi was practically a certified genius. He doesn’t need to be explained things. Least of all his persistent and whiny boytoy’s cosmetic problems. His eye twitched in annoyance as he reminded himself this was definitely not worth losing his cool over.  It was just a hair color.  Not a life or death matter. Which is exactly what he pointed out to Taehyung in an even, quiet voice before a few dark chuckles rumbles through his chest at the absurdity of the conversation.

Taehyung blinked.  He could not believe his boyfriend had just so callously told him his very crucial dilemma that would actually affect his identity and therefore his actual life so heavily was little more than a laughing matter.  Fine.  If Yoongi wanted to play that game, he would beat him at it.

He delicately set the boxes on the edge of Yoongi’s cluttered work table, giving them both a quick pat.  Yoongi huffed, “Move the boxes off my table, Tae. You can see I’m working here.”  Luckily for Taehyung, the incessant voices in his head were chattering rather loudly in that moment so it was easier than usual to ignore his boyfriend’s unamused voice.  “Darling,” Yoongi drawled in hopes of catching his attention but to no avail.  Taehyung picked up the customized matte navy blue Chiappa Rhino 60ds, testing the weight in his hand.  It felt heavier than normal; he chalked it up to the newly added crimson skull pressed onto the gun’s handle.  The gun was absolutely beautiful, a lovely gift from his precious Pudding. Speaking of his Pudding-

“Taehyung,” Yoongi said firmly, all semblances of politeness in his voice vanished without a trace.


The gunshot rang through the air. Everything was deathly silent as the echoes died away and the scent of burnt lead seeped throughout the office.  Yoongi abruptly pushed his chair back. A smirk crept along Taehyung’s lips as he lowered the gun to admire his work. There was now a perfectly round hole through the dead center of the small dartboard Yoongi kept hung above his desk. The center of the board was less than inch over Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi rose slowly from his chair. Taehyung recocked his gun and aimed it once more. “That was ballsy of you, darling,” Yoongi rasped, his accented words slurring together smoother than before, a clear signal that he was pissed off.

“What can I say,” Taehyung drawled in response, letting his words blend together in the same accent as his Pudding, “I have pretty big balls.”

A crooked grin caused Yoongi’s faded red lips to spread thin over his teeth as he finally turned around to face Taehyung.  “True,” he breathed taking a step towards his bratty boy. “But,” he took another step, “I know,” another step, “just how much,” another step, “you love it,” he was now chest-to-chest with Taehyung, “when,” he slipped the ornate gun out of Taehyung’s relaxed palm, “I have you by the balls.” He abruptly grabbed the younger’s groin in a vice grip.

Taehyung had to stop himself from moaning out at the sudden rush of arousingly sweet throbbing coursing through his nether regions. He instead hooked his leg around the tattooed man’s waist and pulled him closer, which only made the grip on his pulsing flesh tighten that much more. “You’ve got me there, Mr. D.” He reached up and carded his fingers through the silky jade locks of his darling dear’s hair and sighed, “I must admit I’m such a sucker for pain…” A evil glint sparked in his eye a mere millisecond before he yanked back hard on the hair clutched in his grasp and bit down sharply on the exposed column of Yoongi’s neck, making the elder growl dangerously low in the back of his throat. “But so are you,” he whispered against the reddening flesh beneath his lips before dragging his tongue heavily and hotly across the blooming mark.

“Another one for my collection?” Yoongi muttered as he opened his hand up so he could press the heel of his palm against the hardening member trapped beneath Taehyung’s obscenely tight pants.

Taehyung purred in response, “You look so pretty marked up, Daddy.” He nosed at the collar of Yoongi’s shirt and cooed appreciatively at the array of multicolored bruises and bites he’d riddled along his love’s pale skin.  The harmonious blending of the crisp crimsons and muted indigos scattered across the canvas of Yoongi’s collarbones struck him.  “Both.”


Taehyung pulled back so he could look his beloved in the eyes and repeated, “Both. I’m going to do both. Half and half, like cop car lights. Won’t it so look pretty under flashing lights?”

“You sure will,” Yoongi drawled. He trailed his fingers up the expanse of his baby boy’s chest and delicately wrapped them around his throat before pressing down on it.  Leaning forward, he brushed his lips along Taehyung’s slightly parted ones and grinned, “Tell me, baby, do you want your own pretty mark?” The speed with which Taehyung eagerly nods his head made Yoongi’s gummy grin stretch even farther.  “That’s what I thought.”  He released him and turned on his heel, nodding his head curtly to silently command Taehyung to follow him.

They strolled down the dimly lit hallways of the abandoned warehouse Yoongi had converted to his so-called “Laugh Factory” (though those who were unlucky enough to be caught in the madhouse of horrors would call it anything but funny) until they reached the rickety lift that would take them to the basement of the building.  Once there, Yoongi turned suddenly towards Taehyung and crashed his lips onto the unsuspecting boxy ones.  But just as Taehyung was starting to respond, Yoongi broke off the kiss and winked at his confused boyfriend. “You just looked so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself,” he stated bluntly.

He slid open the steel door to the meat locker.  A single, broken fluorescent light swung loosely in a hypnotic circle overhead the slumped body shackled to the chair in the center of the room.  A wicked smirk tipped the corners of Taehyung’s mouth upwards as his eyes hungrily swept over the plethora of crusted gashes and swollen bruises decorating the exposed torso of the man.  Taehyung’s fingers curled instinctively as if he were gripping the handle his pistols, which to his dismay had been absentmindedly left in the office. “Pudding, who is this guy?” the curious brunette asked as he circled around the barely conscious figure in front of him.

Yoongi stepped up behind the man and clamped his hands down on the hunched shoulders, effectively startling the man into full alertness.  “I forgot his name, but Namjoon’s taken to calling him the 3 of Clubs because it fits with his damned metaphor.  But what I do know about him is he’s a stubborn little thing,” the elder punctuated his words with two quick raps of his ringed knuckles against the beaten man’s temple, “and he’s holding out on some very crucial information your hyungs so desperately need. So…”  Yoongi slithered over the butcher’s counter to the left of them and motioned at the number of weapons and torture devices splayed out on the steel countertop. “Do you wanna play with him?”

Amidst the raucous voices sneering beautifully sadistic things in his head that all culminated to a roaring ‘YES,’ Taehyung found himself calmly asking, “I can use anything I like, right?”  Yoongi simply hummed in confirmation.  “Well then!” he chirped as he slapped the man’s trembling thighs before he stood from his crouched position.  He carefully perused the table before him. “I think….I’ll use this.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” He twirled the twisted wire hanger around his finger as a lopsided grin etched its way across his face.

Yoongi pressed a soft kiss to his full cheek and murmured, “He’s all yours then, baby boy.  Make Daddy proud, will you?” Taehyung yelped in surprise and slight arousal at the sharp smack Yoongi landed on his ass.

“Aye aye, captain!”

Taehyung ruffled the towel against his damp locks one last time before he tossed it haphazardly on the pile of bloodied clothes in the corner of the bathroom. He roughly blowdried his hair, purposefully keeping his eyes downcast away from the mirror so he would spoil the surprise for himself. Once he was certain his hair was dry and that his heart wasn’t about to jump out of his chest due to his nerves, he walked into his and Yoongi’s shared bedroom and asked, “Okay, how does it look?”

Yoongi flicked his eyes up from the developed polaroid in his hand to his bronzed boyfriend. He inhaled sharply.  The vibrant firetruck red clashed perfectly with the cool cobalt and resulted in an eye-catching and unforgettable hairstyle Yoongi was absolutely he would never tire of seeing Taehyung sport. “In a word: Fucking gorgeous,” he finally managed to answer.

Taehyung giggled loudly, “But that’s two words!”

“One word for each color,” Yoongi defended.

“Hmmm, I guess you’re right.”  Taehyung flopped down onto the bed next time to his boyfriend and snatched the polaroid out of his fingers.  He analyzed his handiwork captured in the photograph, silently admiring the way the three diamonds branded into the bleeding flesh of the man’s neck made a perfect squat, little ‘v’.  “Whatcha think?” he questioned nervously.

“You did amazing, baby,” Yoongi drawled sleepily as he pulled Taehyung up so the bicolored haired man’s head rested gently against his tattooed ribcage.  “You definitely made your mark today.”  

Taehyung grinned boxily and leaned up to press a quick peck against Yoongi’s lips.  Or at least it was supposed to be a peck.  But honestly, Taehyung couldn’t be blamed for the kiss getting so heated so quickly. It most certainly was not his fault that his fingers has somehow found their way down Yoongi’s bare thigh and had somehow managed to clamp themselves around the half-hardened member they found there. Nope, not Taehyung’s fault at all. He was just getting his revenge for earlier.  If Yoongi had him by the balls, then Taehyung definitely ruled him by the head.  But he couldn’t find it in himself to cockily point out his vengeance to an exhausted Yoongi as they lay in a sweaty and trembling mess of limbs in the middle of their floor hours later, both too drained to do much more than run their fingertips over the mess of fresh bruises and bites decorating each other’s skin.


–Admin Lily