i did it quite quickly so..

ULTA story

Ok so I just remembered this happened a few weeks ago and I thought I’d share because it might help figure out ULTA policies. Me and my friend went into ULTA just to shop around and we weren’t planning on lifting because ULTA makes me fritz the fuck out but we just got some cheap mascara and headed to the cash registers. There was two SAs there so it took quite a while in line. There was this guy ahead of us and he didn’t look like the type to be in ULTA. I don’t remember what he bought but he payed with a bill and as he walked out he beeped and looked back but just kept walking. The SA who didn’t check him out asked the one who did if the bill seemed fake and she was just like “yeah lol” so she just quickly walked towards back of the store. I’m not sure what she was doing or where she was going but if anyone has an explanation please let me know because I’m super curious.

Can I just say, yes, very much so. What is irksome is what I am talking about is quite a serious thing, a serious question, seriously answered by both myself and Bryan Fuller who managed to answer much more quickly than I did.  I was talking about the representation of minorities in science fiction shows and in popular culture. Using the example of talking about gay characters and how you present them. I was actually largely talking about Doctor Who, ’cause Doctor Who addresses children. And I was talking about how do you handle gay characters in a fiction like Doctor Who when you are addressing very directly, children.  You don’t want it to be campaigning. You don’t want to be table thumping about it. You don’t want to essentially tell children that there’s something to campaign about. You want to say this is absolutely fine and normal. There is no question to answer. You want to walk right past it, in a way. You don’t want to… If you say, as sometimes other kinds of literature or movies might, we forgive you for being gay. You’re just saying you’re gay and it doesn’t matter. There’s no issue
—  Mark Gatiss talking about his “detective show” quote here, explaining why it doesn’t apply to Sherlock….apparently

14 February 2014

19 year old Yuzuru Hanyu wins the first Olympic Gold Medal for Japan in the Men’s Single Figure Skating Event

Second youngest Men’s Single Figure Skating Olympic Gold Medalist in history

First skater to get over 100 points in the Short Program, setting the current World Record with 101.45 points

anonymous asked:

How long did it take to find a art style?? And your art is so ADORABLE!!!

Hi! ^^ Umm, I’m not really sure if I’d say I have a consistent art style right this moment tbh, I think I’m still rather inconsistent lmao;; but if you’re referring to the style I use to draw my comics, I’m not really sure how to put an accurate time frame on it??

I experimented a lot when I started doing ask blogs to find styles that I could draw quickly with (since ask blogs require a lot of quick draws!) but improvement of drawing and understanding colour theory over time also played a big part in changing the style I use… So I don’t think there’s quite a clear-cut answer to this! 

Anyways if I had to put an actual time frame I’ll just go according to how I changed styles when I did my ask blogs I guess?? So maybe about 3 years??? (with a lot of time in between where I didn’t draw much tho lol)

I drew out a quick example below! 


“So I went to work for Marion. In that summer of 1970. And from that experience working on behalf of migrant laborers particularly children. Working to determine how to stop the spread of segregated academies. Working to further educational opportunities for all children who were often in the early 1970s. Shut out of schools altogether. The world opened up to me and gave me a vision of what it ought to be. Because of the work of people like Marion. That vision is something that has changed somewhat. Some days the rainbow doesn’t breakthrough quite enough. Looks a little gray as I carried around in my head. But it’s always there. And it’s that vision that we have to recreate. In this country not just for each of us. But for all of our people. The challenges ahead of us are going to be difficult ones. We did not get into our situation. Overnight we will not get out of it quickly. But there is so much we can do with the kind of energy that is in this room. The kind of energy. We heard from song. And from Word. And from prayer. How then do we go about focusing that energy, in order to achieve that vision? So that we know without thinking, we are finally doing right, again. We begin by recognizing that every person is worthy of dignity and respect and we stand up against disrespect intolerance and discrimination and hate. Wherever we see it and we call it by name”
Hillary Rodham Clinton 1992

my favorite fics [29/?]

Black with Autumn Rain by @whimsicule; 93k, read on ao3

Summary: “Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

Out of My League (King George III x Reader)

Hello! This is my first fic (and, to be honest, I’m not very good at tumblr) so any feedback will be much appreciated! I’m not really sure about ideal length so this is just more of a test. I wrote this since I’m a Brit through and through so obvs George is one of my fav characters in Hamilton!

You had married George about a year ago. For a while, your life was bliss. You had a husband who loved you and showered you in whatever you desired (not that you’d ever actually request anything). You loved each other, and that was all that mattered. However, your ‘loyal’ subjects did’t see it that way. You were born and raised a commoner. Obviously, your courtship and marriage had caused quite a fuss, particularly within certain elitist circles, but George quickly ordered them to quieten their mouths.

Only, recently, the gossip had started up again. Maybe you had broken some kind of etiquette? Maybe you had offended someone? All you knew was that it was back, and worse than ever. When they thought you weren’t listening, they called you a 'whore who’d spread her legs for anyone, as long as they had money’. They accused you of sorcery, bewitching the king and clouding his judgement. Many of the comments were in a similar vain, spoken by nobles who were jealous that you had managed to catch the King’s eye. They didn’t affect you nearly as much as the other comments did.

“She’ll never be fit to be Queen”.
“She’s a distraction”.
“She’d never have the courage nor the intelligence to make any real decisions”.
“She’s nothing more than a pretty face”.

Every word pierced your heart. They attacked one of your worst insecurities. Sure, you’d never had a formal education but you had read your father’s books and taught yourself everything you needed to know. You had learned through sheer tenacity and force of will, and ended up with knowledge that rivals even your husband’s. But, you weren’t raised to rule. You didn’t know the ins and outs of high society. You just tried your hardest and hoped for the best. Still, the fact that people thought you weren’t good enough upset you more than it should have.

“My love, what troubles you?” asked George, seeing an expression of worry mar your beautiful face.
“George, I need you to answer this honestly”.
“What is it dear?” he said, feeling slightly apprehensive as to what affected you this much.
“Am I a burden?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

After saying it out loud, it seemed like everything came crashing down. What if they were right? What if you were a burden - useless to George and the country? What if he hates you? What if it was all pity and he never truly loved you? 

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face or the sobs escaping your lips.

You found yourself encapsulated by his arms. He cradled you close, with your head resting on his chest, his slightly musky scent tickling your nose. This was the feeling of safety, of warmth. The feeling of home. He just held you there in a protective cocoon.

“Shh, you silly girl. Dry those tears” he said, drying your eyes with his robe. “Whatever could have given you that idea?”
“I-I’m sorry. I ju-just.” You hiccuped and broke down again, the horrible words still swimming in your mind.
“Shh, my sweet. I’ll be here as long as you need me”.
“Sorry, I’m useless. Pathetic. Weak.” you mumbled, as you tried to pull away from him. He held you tighter.

“Look at me” he demanded. You managed to pull away this time, avoiding his eye contact and mumbling some sort of excuse.
“Look. At. Me.” he demanded, more forcefully this time. He put his thumb under your chin, lifting it so that your eyes met. You stared into his captivating blue eyes, a feeling of guilt bubbling up. His eyes softened.
“What am I going to do with you?” he sighed. “[Y/N], I love you so much, can’t you see that? I would move the heavens for you”. At this, he stole a sweet kiss. 

“Please, what’s gotten into you?”
“I-I heard some pe-people talking about m-me”. Your voice wavered and you lost the courage to go on.
“What did they say?” He spoke softly and comfortingly, trying to coax you to go on. You told him everything you had heard. Every last insult, mean comment and snide remark.
“Oh [Y/N]” he whispered, as he held you close. “You didn’t need to face this alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Please, speak to me next time.”
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you or waste your time.” you stuttered.
“My sweet, I would give up my entire kingdom if it meant your happiness”. He smiled as you blushed prettily under his intense gaze.
“B-but all those people said-”
“Never mind what they said. You are what’s most important to me. What do those people know?” he whispered.

Then, upon the realisation that it was his subjects that caused this, his gaze hardened and sparked with anger. “Who are these people who dares cause you such grief? I will execute them immediately!” His eagerness to jump to your defense warmed your heart.
“George, it’s fine. Drop it. It’s just people in the court gossiping”.
“But, my love-”
“It’s fine George. Yes, their words hurt. Yes, I won’t forget them. Yes, they were horrible and uncalled for, but it was just gossip. Nothing more, nothing less. We can’t convict them on human nature. Just let it go, for me?”
“How did I ever convince someone like you to be my wife?” he asked in awe. “You’re just plain amazing, you know that right?”
“George.” you said, exasperated at his attempt to sidetrack you.
“Ok, I promise I won’t do anything. For you, my sweet, I give my word.”

“But seriously, can’t I chop a couple of heads off?”
“Sorry, dear.” and the King of England, ruler of millions, meekly complied.

Monsta X reaction to seeing their significant other whining for the first time

A/N: For those of you who don’t know - Whining - the act of gyrating one’s hips in a vigorous circular motion. Based on my own dirty imagination.

Shownu: He’d do a double take, furrow his brows and get really into it. Really cute smile and shy blush when you finally spot him. He finds it really quite sexy and fascinating how you wiggle your hips and he’d most definitely want you to teach him. So be prepared for him to ask for you to show him how to do it again and then try his utmost hardest to copy what you did. You’d have to warm him up though, so it would be a little awkward at first because I feel like they’re so accustomed to dancing a certain way, he doesn’t know how to move his hips as quickly and ride the beat, but he warms up to it really quick. Expect some of them hip movements in the bedroom wink wink.

Wonho: “Babe what are you doing?” He’d bust out laughing after observing your movements. He’d be one to think that it looked a bit funny they way you did it. When you show him what you were doing and dancing around in the living room/kitchen/bedroom he’d actually begin to get turned on. It won’t be till you try whining on him that he’d get really interested and only then would it come to your attention that he had a boner. Proceed to a lapdance and you’re all set for a fun time honestly. Wants you to ride him whilst your’re rotating your hips like that. Really, really cringy and awkward when he tries it, he’d be one to bust out laughing too because he’s embarrassed and just doesn’t know how you do it. Would definitely leave it to you.

Minhyuk: His eyes would follow your movements and eventually his head would too. Definitely the type to jump in and would do a crazy dance next to you. Like a dance something similar to 4minute’s crazy. He’d turn the entire situation into a lot of fun and wouldn’t have much of a care in the world. Would even enjoy just sitting and watching you dance around and cheer you on. If you wanted you two to dance together he would just probably sway his hips back and forth and wouldn’t care much for how you moved. He’d be the type to comment on the music and realize the dance style. Not one for trying it because he’s too ashamed of making a fool of himself. Lots of blushes and shaking his head. Even if you begged him to try it, he would just stand there shyly and pout because he doesn’t wanna do it. 

Kiyhun: Probably recorded it whilst you were enjoying yourself a little too much. Has managed to capture the best part of it and tucked his phone away in his pocket. Stands in the doorway smirking like the little shit he is because he caught you red handed and has a little dirt on you to show some friends. Would knock on the door to startle you and laugh like a manic when you jump and turn around to look at him like a deer in headlights. Asks what you’re doing and  to show it to him a little more seriously. Didn’t expect to get flustered by it but he does and now he’s really rethinking showing that video to anyone in your friend group as blackmail, instead would look at it whenever he was away for too long and misses you. 

Hungwon: Stunned because he didn’t know people could shake their ass like that. Confused because  of the music you were doing it to and would 10/10 pull a memeface. Would think it’s funny when you backed that ass up on him. He’s the type to stand there with his hands on his hips blushing  not really knowing what to do because it’s kinda foreign but wild and he kinda likes it but is really embarrassed to say it. He would try his best to try to learn it if you wanted to teach it to him but he’d turn it into a real lesson and he would improvise a dance and it would be totally hot. Eventually you two can enjoy some time together whining and dancing around the house with the small choreography’s he made up to go along with the song.

Jooheon: 10/10 would get really into it as well and would be so hyped about it. Like he’d do the thing where he sticks his lower lip out and scrunch his face up and nod his head along to the beat. Would start clapping and cheering you on because it’s like, one one of the hottest things he’s ever seen you do. Everything turns sexy real quick. He’d ask you to record it and be really curious as to how you learnt to do it. If you tried whining on him he’d stand there really still and just put his hands on your hips and look down really surprised. He’d like it and would try to rub himself on you somehow too.

I.M: Pulls out the PPAP dance like there’s not tomorrow. Thinks he can do it better than you but is really stiff and he looks like a penguin having a stroke. He doesn’t really care though because his babe can do it and he’s thoroughly impressed by it. Would be interested in the type of music you were doing it to as well. Calls you out to a dance battle just for the shits and giggles because he thinks it’s a lot of fun even if you outdo him a million times over. Tries to belly dance to beat you. But, he forfeits when you get him cornered and start whining on him. Is probably the best experience he’s had in his life whilst dancing. Very seriously asks you what he should do when you’re backing that ass up on him because he feels kinda useless.


The teaching fics are so bountiful with Destiel. Dean sidling up behind Cas to show him how to hold a gun or play pool, lingering touches and glances over late night poker teachings. Cas still not quite understanding why these games are played, to which Dean eventually replies a gruff “Fun, Cas. For fun.”

“But why do people bet money?”


“Why is that?”

“I don’t know, Cas. Maybe they do it to stay alive.”

Which shuts Cas up quickly, remembering all Dean did for his brother. Thankful he doesn’t have to play these games out of necessity.

But what if Cas then teaches Dean a few games. Played with beans and rocks on dusty streets with small children in the 1400s.

“This is mancala.”


“I think people still play it today. But I remember children first taking handfulls of beans or pebbles in Sumeria to lay out like this.”

Cas’s hands carefully counting out fives to place into piles.

Imagine Colossus admitting his feelings for you after you get hurt.

(Yay! for my first Colossus imagine!! Hope it is as requested and you all like it! Hope I did my best to get his and Deadpool’s personality right :3 I don’t know what power to give to the reader so I went as vague as possible Gif not mine/Credit to the original owner/Found it on google)

You were a new teacher at Xavier school for the gifted. You taught the students history and your were skilled in more than one martial art.

You had been there for quite some time and you quickly became good friends with another professor there, Piotr Rasputin, or Colossus once he would use his power.

He was kind to everyone even to people who would just seem rude to him but that’s what you liked the most about him, that and his thick Russian accent, that just made him adorable.

Recently you and him have both been assigned to be mentors to a young mutant named Negasonic.


“Why do I have two mentors?” The girl had asked the first time.

You looked at Piotr and back at the girl and said “Well…because from what I heard…you’re quite powerful and you might need the help of two professor to help with training…Piotr a little help please?”

Seeing you all shy and flustered made him laugh and he finally introduced himself to the young girl and explained the situation in more details

The three of you spent everyday together, from training together to teaching the young mutant her classes.


You were usually the first one to initiate conversation but somehow you were always shy and awkward around Negasonic which Piotr couldn’t help but find you lovable.

Since, Piotr had feelings for you but was always to shy to say anything. He liked that you were always making him laugh and how caring you were towards the students. He loved that no matter how timid or clumsy you were around new people, you still pushed yourself to be resourceful.


One day, you all heard of and met a man named Wade Wilson. He was had the ability to regenerate himself and was skilled in combat. Piotr saw potential in him of being a possible new asset to the school but to you he was just the biggest asshole you ever met. He seemed to be the only one to ever put you in a bad mood and make you say things you usually wouldn’t about someone.

He would insult and refuse every offer Piotr would make for him to join you. When you would defend your friend, he would either make fun of you or just tell you off.

You just didn’t understand as to why Piotr was so adamant about him joining but you somehow you trusted his judgement.


You were in the kitchen making yourself something to eat and Piotr was just sitting there watching you.

When suddenly you heard a familiar voice at the door talking with Negasonic, Wade Wilson.

You were pissed to hear him talking the way he did with Negasonic, and even more when he referred to Colossus as silver balls.

However, Piotr didn’t noticed and only called him out “Wade? Is that you?”

“Yeah! It’s me Deadpool! And I got an offer you can’t refuse!”

You didn’t hate Wade but the fact that he had a bad mouth, and was going to teach him a lesson.

“I’ll wait out here…” He said quietly to Negasonic.

Before he could leave the door, You marched over to him and slapped him. He and Piotr were stunned and he held his cheek.

“What the fuck was that for?”

You felt bold and yelled out at the masked man.

“Language! Now wait a few moment, we just need to get ready…”

“I was going to wait!” Wade said walking away while rubbing his cheek.

Piotr couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction and was happy that you always had the same stance as him when it came to curse words.


The four of you took a cab, in which you barely fit in the back, and drove onto location. You were sat in between Negasonic and Piotr and were so close to one another you felt their ribs poking in your sides a they breathe.

You winced from the slight pain you felt from Piotr, he immediately noticed and tried his best to make you comfortable. The ride got weird as you heard someone scream from the trunk and Wade only made it worse by subtly insinuating the driver to kill him. 


Upon arrival, you got out of the car and walked towards the scrapyard. All four, side by side, just as if you were in a movie.

You were then met with Angel Dust and Wade made the three of you fight against her.

Piotr got knocked out, worried you wanted to run to him but didn’t had time as she marched over to give you a solid punch.

You felt like your jaws was cracking and wanted to get back at her but Negasonic had managed to push her away with her power.

Negasonic grabbed a hold of you and dived with Deadpool for cover afterwards Colossus found himself one on one with Angel Dust.


You then found yourself surrounded and by Francis’ men. You collected yourself and managed to beat the crap out of them.

Everything happened fast, one moment you were fighting them the next they were dead and Wade had used them to write “Francis”.

You followed Negasonic and found Colossus being strangled by Angel Dust. You wanted to run to her and smash her face on the concrete but Negasonic stopped you.

You didn’t understand as to why, until you saw her charge herself and in a blink of an eye blew up the whole scrapyard.

You felt yourself being thrown away and could only hear the sound of everything crashing.


You knocked out for quite something and were stuck in between the rubble.

When Colossus got to Negasonic, he noticed you weren’t with her and started to worry.

He then asked her “Where is Y/N?”

Confused and she looked around.“I don’t know…maybe somewhere around here…”

“Look for her!" 

He felt his stomach dropped and imagined the worst. He felt warm tears in his eyes and started to look all over for you. Lifting almost anything and everything out of his way to find you.

The two of them then found Veronica, Wade’s girlfriend and helped her out.


Wade finally killing Francis and had a moment with Veronica as Piotr still looked for you.

Wade suddenly felt a little bad and helped your friends in the search for you.

When suddenly Piotr finally found you under some other scrap. He was overjoyed to see you again and couldn’t help but pull you out.

As he grabbed you and carried you, you felt yourself regaining a little conscious but still couldn’t open your eyes.

As he laid you on the ground, he noticed all the scratches and bruises on you. He started to worry again and held you closely to him.


He inspected your injuries and tried to wake you up.

"Y/N…Y/N! Please! Please wake up! Wake up!”

You felt yourself being slightly shaken but just couldn’t find the strength to respond properly or open your eyes.

He called you many times and you heard his voice strain from his tears.

“Y/N, please for me…wake up…you…you can’t leave me like this…”

You felt yourself slowly getting more and more strength but didn’t want to open your eyes yet, to hear what else he had to say.

“Y/N…wake up…I-I love you…I want you by my side…you’re perfect…please come back…”

You were surprised by his sudden confession as you never expected for him to think of you that way. You liked him as well and were relieved that he felt that way about you.

You wanted to smile but still didn’t want him to stop confessing his feelings. So you stayed “asleep”.

He was crying and holding you tightly to him and he kept rambling on and on about you.


Negasonic, Wade and Veronica all stood behind and started to think you were dead. However, only Wade didn’t had the decency to keep it to himself. 

“Poor silver balls…he just confessed all his feelings to a girl way out of his league…and who just died…Why do people always do that in a time like this? It’s like you’re doing this on purpose so she’d hear you and wake up and finally bang you!”

As you heard Colossus crying and confessing, you also heard what Wade had just said.

It pissed you off and slowly you moved your “lifeless” hand behind Piotr to, you give the finger to Wade.

They were all shocked but remained silent as Colossus kept begging for you to wake up.


Slowly you opened your eyes and approached your hand to wipe Piotr tears. He opened his eyes and was stunned.


“Hey…” You said with a smirk.

“You’re awake?! Y/N, i’m not dreaming?!”

You chuckled and shook your head. You cupped his face and it made your hand look so tiny, it made you laugh.

Piotr was just so happy and excited that you came back he hadn’t noticed how close he was holding you.

“Y/N, i’m so happy! I really thought you wouldn’t wake up…”

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face to see you better and had a big smile.

“So…like that…Piotr, you like me?”

He immediately got flustered and shy and couldn’t look you in the eyes.

“W-well…I-I might have said something like that…”

Wade had to butt in your moment and  "Actually, as a witness to all of this, I recall him using the words…’

He cleared his throat and in with a horrible attempt to a Russian accent continued “I love you”

You gave him another finger and it only made him laugh.


You grabbed Piotr’s face to see his eyes and said “So…do you?”

Unable to avoid your gaze, he nodded and admitted “Yes…I do love you…more than a colleague…more than just a friend…more than anything…”

You smiled at him and immediately pressed your lips to his to express your feelings.

He was surprised but closed his eyes tightly to enjoy you. You held onto him and heard Negasonic’s “Eww, gross…”, Wade and Veronica cheering you on.

You backed away and told him “I’m glad, we feel the same…”

He couldn’t hide his smile and hugged you tightly.

“I love you, Y/N…” He whispered to you in his cute accent.

You chuckled and told him “I love you too, Piotr…”

Wade clapped his hands and said “Guys, this is great…now why don’t the two of you get a room?!”

You rolled your eyes at him and as you got up, Piotr helped you.


He didn’t want to let go of you and decided to carry you out. As you all walked, Wade suddenly turned to look at you and said “I’m glad this story has a "happy ending” for all of the adults here…if you know what I mean…“ 

He wiggled his eyebrows under the mask, it made Veronica laugh but you rolled your eyes at him, again.

You looked back at Piotr to see his reaction, only to see that he didn’t even seem to have heard the comment as he only smiled and has his eyes on you.

Wrong Side to War

* Alexander Hamilton × Reader
* 66: how about we put the gun down and let’s talk about this?
* hamiltime

A/N: Alright y'all, another long one. This one was lots of fun. I loved the prompt and got an idea in seconds. Oh and there is swearing in this, quite bit actually.
Btw you guys are amazing and you liking and such makes my day ❤

How you actually made it this far, you’ll never know. You chopped your hair. You wrapped your chest. You wanted to fight so that’s what you did. How dare the ignorant colonies try and leave? The king was kind enough to give them some freedom and they declared independence?

You fought and served to teach them respect. Not only that but you were a good soldier and climbed quickly through the ranks. You we second only to the general of your battalion. “Smith.” Someone called. You looked. It was the general calling your assumed last name. You quickly walked to him.

“Sir?” You saluted. You were a good soldier and a respectable one. You didn’t climb ranks only by killing.

“Relax soldier.” He told you. “We got word of an attack planned by the rebels. I can count on you in the front line correct?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” You said with a grin. “Let’s take ‘em out.”

You were ready and waiting. The rebels would get in sight, the cannons would fire, then the soldiers would open fire. Simple. Easy. Cause choas, then cut them down.

You saw some blue coats in the distance. The rebels had no set uniform but some soldiers were able to get war coats. The sight of them made you snarl. As they got closer you heard the cannon’s fuse being lit. Any second now.


A bang, smoke, and screams. Gunfire rang out from all sides. As you were spotted from your cover in a trench the army broke apart and ran forward.

You were firing and running. Fighting and winning. Suddenly you saw a soldier struggling with his bayonet. You smiled and walked towards him.

“Shit. Unjam now!!” He struggled from where he was squatted for some attempted cover. “This is not how you gain a battalion of your own.” He grumbled still struggling.

“Need a hand?” You asked, gun pointed right at him.

He shot up and turned to you. He was shorter than most soldiers, still taller than you however. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He had his hands held out from his sides, his bayonet was in one hand.

“Hey…” he said nervously. “How about we put the gun down and let’s talk about this?” He asked, he begged.

“And why should I?” You asked enjoying the fear in him. Not to mention the power you had over him.

“Well I can’t defend myself. That would be a sorry way to go. A man should die with a gun in his hand in war. Otherwise it’s like killing an innocent man.” He argued.

“You are not innocent!” You snarled. “You leave the king that is kind to you. You wish to run a country on your own? You would crash and burn without him watching over you.”

“Then it would be killing a man without honor.” He tried again. This made you pause so he continued. “You may not see me as innocent but is it truly honorable to kill a man when he is defenseless?”

You slowly lowered your gun. “I see you on the field and you’re dead in seconds you scum.” You threatened.

“Sounds fair.” He agreed. Suddenly another cannon fired. “Look out!” The man screamed. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you back. You felt intense heat near you and a sudden pain in your stomach.

The cannon caused an explosion right where you had been standing. Not only that but shot shrapnel everywhere, including lodging itself in your side. You groaned.

“Shit!” The man said. “Hold still.” He commanded, attempting to help.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” You ground out between clenched teeth.

“Then you’ll die! I’m not gonna sit here and watch you bleed out so hold still!” He shouted.

“No!” You shouted. You couldn’t be figured out now, much less by a rebel with some compassion.

“I will knock you out if I have to.” He said sternly. You were in no place to fight back and the struggle already cause you immense pain. You gave up and laid back on the ground. “This will hurt but I have to do this.” He said. He grabbed the metal and pulled.

You screamed.

Shit that hurt! You could feel blood covering your uniform now that the metal was no long holding the blood in. The man pressed something to the wound and you whimpered at the pressure. “Hold that if you can please.” He commanded and guided you hand to it. You were getting weaker but you pressed as hard as you could manage.

He started to unbutton your uniform and you tried struggling again. “Hey you’re making it wosre. You have nothing to but a dirty rag holding the blood in. Fighting me will make you bleed out faster.” He told you.

You sighed. This couldn’t be happening. He grabbed the rag back from you and pulled back the sides of the uniform. “Shit this is bad.” He said. The lower half of your undershirt was red with blood, with was still coming from the wound. And you felt yourself grow weaker still.

He lifted you undershirt so it rested above the wound. You felt as he peeled it up away from your stomach to move it so it wouldn’t brush the wound. He pressed the cloth against it again pulling another wimper from you. You heard a tearing sound. You could see him tearing his own undershirt to make bandages as the coat was too thick to tear.

He folded some cloth and placed it over the wound. “I’ll take you back to camp and get some real bandages over this.” He tied the scraps of clothes together and started winding them around your body. You needed to lift up you stomach when he needed to get it around you, and that was agony. He finally had it tight around you and tied it off. “Alright. Let’s take this bloody shirt off.”

“No. No. It’s fine.” You argued.

“Come on that can’t be comfortable.” He said.

“It’s fine.” You insisted.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I’ve got a hole torn through me! No I can’t stand!” It was getting harder to breathe.

“Alright I’ll have to carry you. How to do it without pressing the wound?” He wondered. “Alright, sorry about this but I have to carry you bridal style.” You groaned at the embarrassment of this. He went to pick you up. “Hang on.” He said. He moved your shirt a bit more and you realized he must have seen your wrapping. “Shit. You’re a women!” He exclaimed.

You couldn’t even tell him he was being sexist as you blacked out.

You woke up with a groan. You were no longer on the ground but in a bed. And not in a tent either but a room. You sat up, painfully but you still managed to get upright. You looked at your stomach.

You had clean bandages on and while pressing a hand to the wound you could tell it had been stitched up. What the hell happened? And where were you? You looked around. The most notable thing was a desk with paper everywhere. Seriously, it was covering the damn thing and some was even in the floor.

The door walked in and the soldier from the field was walking in. “Oh you’re awake.” He said. “Man the lies we told to get you here. I had to have a friend tell the general I found a women who was injured by a stray gunshot and was taking her to my home to treat her. Only two people know your secret.”

“Why did you save me?” You finally asked. “You could’ve, and should have, let me bleed out and die on the ground.”

“You spared me when you should have killed me. I owed you the same debt.” He said.

“You don’t even know me.” You said. “I’m the enemy and we should hate each other.”

“Well I’m Alexander Hamilton. If I’m not a soldier then I’m an aspiring lawyer.” He said holding out his hand.

“Y/N L/C.” You said tentatively. “I used to work in a tea shop but that won’t be happening again.”

“I’m needed but you’ll stay here if you’re smart. I’ve been checking. You’re declared deceased at this point. You’ll stay that way until you’re healed. You’ll probably then become a prisoner for exchange.” He explained. “That’s the only way to get you safely back.”

“How have you been checking?” You asked. His eyes got wide at what he admitted. “There’s a bloody spy!” You exclaimed. He only left and didn’t answer. “Rebel scum.” You snarled.

That Hamilton was right. You couldn’t leave the bed for days. You couldn’t make it out of the room for weeks. But Hamilton was there to care for you. He brought you food and checked your wound. You had to admit he wasn’t too bad.

One day he was out and you slowly got up from the bed. You walked to the cluttered desk. Some days he’d sit here a write while keeping get you company.

“What are you always writing?” You asked the thin air. You sat down and began reading. At first you had rage growing in you. Freedom and revolution. That was what these were about. But after a while you just felt sorrow for the rebels.

They wanted this. They wanted this desperately. And they even had some good reasons. This Alexander could change your mind with his words.

You were so caught up that when the door open you gasped in surprise. “Y/N are you ok?” He asked and coming down to crouch in front of you.

“Of course why wouldn’t I-” you stopped when he reached up and brushed your cheek. His fingers were wet. You reached up. You’d been crying. “You guys really want freedom.” You said quietly.

“Yes we do.” He said.

“I never realized. I thought you were ungrateful and didn’t deserve it.” You admitted.

“We thought the British were entitled and conceded.” He admitted with a shrug. You laughed.

“Maybe there is a wrong side to the war.” You said.

“Maybe.” He agreed.

A few weeks later you could walk better and easily. One day Alexander came back happily. “Problem solved.” He said.

“Problem?” You asked.

“We had a battle today. We have a few prisoners. We’re exchanging them tomorrow. We slip you in and you get back to your side.” He concluded.

“Wait what?” You asked.

“We’re getting you back to your side. They’ll probably still let you rest but you’ll be back with your people.”

“Oh my people?” You asked agrilly. “My entitled and conceded people huh?”

He recoiled. “I thought you wanted this.”

“Oh believe me, I do.” You shot back. You went back to the room and grabbed your washed uniform. You put it on, feeling better to have it on once more.

Hamilton walked you to his camp late that night. He walked you to a hostage hold, an old church. He unlocked a back door and walked you in. “Well this is then.” He said with a shrug. All the prisoners were in another room.

“Yes it is Rebel Scum.” You growled.

He scoffed. “Loyalist Bitch.” He said.

“Excuse you?!” You snapped.

“I saved your damn life and you can’t even manage a thank you!” He exclaimed.

“Maybe when you deserve one.” You glared.

“Ugh! You know what? I’m glad you’re leaving.” He said.

“And I’ll be glad to be gone.” You told him. With that you left to join your men.

The next day you walked back across war lines and were with the British again. You glanced back at the soldier in the blue coat and sighed. It wasn’t Hamilton but he was fighting for the same ideals.

Everyone was thrilled you were back. They had you on rest for a few weeks. The men recounted what they had done to the ‘ungrateful bastard rebels’ and you told them to shut up. Everyone was tip-toeing around you and your moodiness. You no longer felt like you belonged with them. Not when you understood the reb-americans, you corrected yourself.

You didn’t sleep well anymore. All you could think of was Hamilton and the time spent together. His laugh and words. You had read many of his papers and he had asked your opinion on some of them. He had power with words and you missed they way you two would talk.

Eventually you were ready for battle once more. Well, healthy enough. You didn’t know if you kill any of the opposing soldiers. “Smith.” The general called you over. You were back living a lie. Hamilton always called you by name as you didn’t have to hide with him.

“Sir?” You asked.

“No salute?” He asked.

“Oh sorry, Sir!” You exclaimed and snapped to attention with a salute.

“I’m only joking with you Smith. Forgetting a salute is no problem. Expecially after being held hostage. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” He told you.

“No Sir you can’t.” You said thinking more of the emotional battle you were going through.

“You didn’t happen to gain any insight while you were there did you?” He asked.

The spy! You had completely forgot. Then you remembered all of Alexander’s words and reasoning for revolution.

“No Sir I didn’t.” You told him.

“Hm, that’s too bad. Well anyway. Your back as a cadet, your position was taken in your absense.”

You couldn’t believe it. You were almost killed and they give away your spot. And they don’t even return it either. “Conceded.” You muttered before realizing that’s what Hamilton thinks of this whole army.

You went to battle. Running and not fighting. Hiding and not dying. You couldn’t fire a single shot anymore. Damn Hamilton had turned you against your own men. Then you saw him.

His bayonet was working this time. He was reloading it. He hadn’t seen you. He was taking aim when you saw it. A man in red to his side taking aim. You threw you’re gun down and jumped up. “Hamilton!” You screamed. He spun, confused. You jumped on him and tackled him. The bullet flew over you.

He flipped you off of him and took aim and shot the soldier who fired. He stood, grabbed your hand, pulled up and back to your former hiding place. “What was that about you Loyalist?” He asked, he growled.

“I…I don’t know. I saw him taking aim and couldn’t let you die.” You admitted.

“Stay here please. Don’t get yourself killed out there.” He begged.

So you stayed. He never went far, always defending your hiding space and you. When a cease fire was called he walked back over.

“Y/N please stop fighting. I don’t want you to die.” He told you. “Look, we have leave tonight. Go to my home. We can talk when we get there.” He pressed a key to your hand.

“I can’t. Not in this.” You gestured to your coat. He held out his. You slipped yours off and his on. It smelt so good. Like ink and paper. He took a knife and started shredding your coat. “Wait. Do you always carry a knife?” You asked.

“Only since my bayonet stopped working.” He said with a smirk. “OK go. They’ll find your coat and make their own assumption. Oh and,” he paused and grabbed your hat. He slid his knife through it. He took his and placed it on your head. “There.” He smiled at you. “It all looks better on you anyway.” He realized what he just said and went red in the face. “I mean better than that hideous red.”

You were sitting and waiting for Hamilton to get back. He finally walked in and noticed you had yet to take his coat off. He decided not to mention it. “Ok. What the hell happened out there?” He asked.

“You turned me you rebel!” You yelled and jumped up.

“Huh?” He asked.

“I don’t know but somehow you managed to get me to sympathize. I couldn’t kill your men but I couldn’t agree with mine anymore. There is a wrong side to the war and I was on it.” You said and dropped back down.

“What do you mean?” He asked, taking a seat next to you.

“We are entitled and conceded. You guys fight for an honorable cause. You were the right side.” You admitted. “But I can’t very well fight the British either. They were my men and my fellow soldiers.” You told him.

“Damn right you can’t fight them” he told you.

“Huh?” You were confused by his outburst.

“I’m not letting you fight again. I don’t want you to get hurt. You almost died once, I won’t let that happen again. When you were back with the British I worried everyday. And when we got to battle I was worried you’d get killed, or worse that I’d kill you without recognizing you.” He told you, looking at his feet and not you.

“Alexander what are you saying?” You asked.

“I’m saying I care about you and don’t want to lose you. I’m saying that if you’re sure about being on the wrong side of the war that’d like to be with you.” He admitted, finally looking at you.

You blushed. Men don’t make you blush, you thought. They think they’re better than you, but Alexander was different. It’s almost as if he sees you as an equal. You composed yourself and smirked.

“Well, if that’s the case…” you trailed off.

“Wha-” you cut him off before he could get the word out by pressing your lips to his. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

You were definitely on the wrong side of the war.

B.A.P Reaction || Making Their Girlfriend Squirt


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He would have the most surprised look on his face for a few seconds before he realizes what just happened and feels the overflow of confidence in his bed abilities


“… Oh my God. I don’t know how I did it… but I’m glad I did it”


He would give you the most dorkiest surprised look ever. It wouldn’t last long because it would be quickly replaced with a proud smirk as his duty as a man has been accomplished

“Who knew you were the squirting type”


Stares at you in disbelief, a little taken aback by the sudden reaction from your body. But it would fill him with a very fulfilled feeling (So much feels in one sentence)


“… why’d you just pee on me”

Ok, no, no, I’m joking


You’ve awoken the beast within this puppy


Firstly quite surprised, that was unexpected after all. But he would just feel accomplished and happy about you being able to do something like this (thanks to him).

“So young, so talented, aye, that is Choi Junhong~”


An Unusual Sight

Requested by: @loganmac02

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 551
Warnings: A bit of fluff, cute!Bucky, nervous!Bucky

A/N: I know this is quite short, I’m sorry, but I wanted to get something out for you quickly, @loganmac02. I hope you like it! 

Trudging back to your suite in the Avengers facility, you can feel the fatigue setting in, as it did every time after a long training session with Natasha. She genuinely seemed surprised and pleased with your quick progress.

You were assigned to the Avengers as a science consultant to keep Tony in check, after everything with Ultron. But they had all decided that you needed combat training, in case the worst was to occur.

So, day in, day out you trained for hours on end. Clint was teaching you stealth, Natasha was teaching you hand-to-hand combat, and Bucky was helping you to learn weapons training. 

You had the most trouble with weapons training. Not that you were necessarily bad at it, but Bucky’s presence was very distracting.

From the moment you stepped into the Avengers compound and spotted the reclusive James Buchanan Barnes, you were hooked. You wanted to - you needed to know more about him. You’d heard the stories about the ghost story, The Winter Solider, but you knew there was more to Bucky than the deadly assassin that Hydra had turned him into.

At first, he was reluctant to help with your training, but after a lot of pleading and convincing from Steve, Bucky agreed that he was the best person to teach you how to handle a knife or a gun.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky’s voice broke through your tired stupor,

“Bucky, I’m too tired to do any more training this afternoon,” you whine,

“Oh, that’s not what I wanted,” he rubs the back of his neck, almost nervously. You’d never seen Bucky act like this. He was always on guard for anything and everything to happen.

You cock your head, confused, prompting him to continue,

“I, uh,” he stammers. For a second, you swear you see his cheeks flush red. Was Bucky nervous around you? You quickly push the exciting thought out of your mind to concentrate on his words, “I, um… are you busy tonight?”

“No…?” you drawl out, unsure where he’s going with this question,

“Good,” he bounces excitedly on his feet, a small smile forming on his lips, “I was just thinking, that, like since we’re both free… we could grab a drink or something to eat… or something?” he rushes through the end of the sentence. 

You have to think for a second, deciphering exactly what he’d said, “Wait… Like a date?” you blurt out before you can be more subtle,

He runs his hands through his long hair, “I mean, unless you don’t want it to be?”

“No, no,” you quickly reassure him, not wanting the opportunity to go a date with your crush to slip through your fingers, “I’d love to,”

His perfect lips stretch to reveal a wide grin, “Great… Great!”

Bucky starts to walk away, but you call out to him, “Bucky?”

“Yeah?” he spins on his heel to face you again,

“What time?” you try to suppress an amused smile,

“Oh,” he nervously laughs, “How’s 7?”

“Perfect,” you flash him a smile and turn to open your suite door, all your fatigue had now disappeared, replaced by excitement. You glance back at his retreating figure, just in time to catch him thrusting his fist in the air, just like Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club.


Black With Autumn Rain 

By whimsicule

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

Oh… hmmm, okay so like… I was having trouble sketching stuff quickly and y’know, dynamically and so some people suggested I try doing like quick gesture sketches first and so I did, and then I decided to clean one and quite honestly it turned out significantly better than I was expecting… I feel like I should go pay them or something for their advice…

*squints at hands*

en garde

              I hope I am not the only unachievable goal in your young life.
      the-husband-is-in-Chicago still life: an empty glass, an empty bottle
“she would not utter a word in simpleness,” complained to me once writer
                                               [simplitude} (I almost wanna say)
Mikhail Butov about writer gosh I did forget her name. we are friends on facebook with her, gosh what’s her name**
the word “pomegranate” in Russian
another surviving photo from that unforgettable day
                      “it ends quickly, I suppose”
                                     (Eleanor Gray, I believe)
I must say when I was in Siberia it was quite a weird joy to read you guys sitting in your Europes and the United States complaining over the cup of cappuccino about your pathetic little lives. you were so fucking handsome.
if my writing did get me you then I was doing it right
I had an epiphany;                   [elusive}  
                       the famous apple of the Elysium,
                                   the fruit which has disillusioned Adam (but not Eve)
               was of course not an apple at all
                                           {falling into lupine and bluegrass]
                                                                                  to the contrary
ha ha ha
what else?
what else does contain so many transparent seeds in a red flesh, squeezed together tightly, adjusted to one another economically, and has facets like cut and polished crystals? what else could be considered a fruit of knowledge, if not pomegranate, to eat which is not possible (but to drink), and every grain of which costs one so much of an effort and brings so little satisfaction? I am sure this is what they mean when they say grind the granite of science–pomegranate is this granite, no doubt;
                                          predominately pink

no, actually, not granite.
                        garnet.*** if polished, it has exactly the luster and the sheen of the pomegranate seeds dressed in their protective throbbing membrane.
                                                                 wow, ha ha ha
                                 I am glad if you like it.
“Russian” is a big part of who I am; perhaps it is not I who employs this ethnicity for the performance of self, as you half accused me, but it performs and defines me in so many aspects. consider it. yes, and it is possible that you are right: I exoticize and objectivize myself. if I am to be exoticized, I’ll be sure to derive my narcissistic pleasure from it.
I am half Ukrainian but “Ukrainian” as an identity is spared by me from being performed that much. it is extracted in rare moments out of a black cylinder for an effect, like now
                                                                             worldly nonsense

you crowned me with emeralds and sapphires.
emeralds of trembling shadows
sapphires of the bluest water                    “poetry should be a tad bit silly”                                                                           Alexander Pushkin (“глуповата”)
loony, lovely, and goofy
                                                               occasional inspirations
                                  Athena was a feminist,
                        and so was Aphrodite.
              although Randall claims she was a patriarch in a female body (which makes a perfect sense)
I love social networks because while you have already talked, read, listened, and spoke about this and that, it has not. Every day is a fresh, bright, a clear-sky new day. The terrors of women’s misandry and “reverse racism” bloom anew in the {white men’s} imagination. It’s Athena going out of Zeus’s head every second, already fully clad and armed, with all her attributes.
Out of Zeus’s splitting head, in full shining glory of her armour and ammunition, fully clad, Athena, the goddess of war and Zeus’s future paramour, exited, born, which predefined the repetition of the endless devise: the birth of warriorlike love purely out of one’s mind.

                                                       He saw Athena naked,

                                  Without her golden and steel armor,


                                  He should bear the punishment:

                                                                                   Be blinded                            
                                              And see the world of dark.

One of the Athena’s attributes, apart from her other august symbols and properties that were to raise a grateful recollection of her in the brilliant minds of her people, was, bird talons. well, everything reminded them of her.

*my second poetry book in Russian was titled Barefoot; I’d recommend it to you after you’d lift your Russian on a decent level.
**I still do not relinquish the idea of recollecting her name.
***in Russian, the words “pomegranate” and “garnet” are
                        homonyms and homophones:
                        гранат (gra-NAT).

Ships Log: Day Two

I woke up this morning feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness about the journey ahead. My head was buzzing as I tried to compile a list of things to do, but I couldn’t concentrate. The seas were a bit rougher than the day before, although being so close to the Shore, if a storm did arrive we would be safe.

Salty Bob had visited the deck at some point, as when I stepped out of my cabin I found a newspaper waiting on a small table, along with a sack of coins and what appeared to be a postcard. The news was the same as usual, I never really took much interest in politics or sports, and the cartoons were abysmal.

The postcard was… Hard to read. It began quite sane, offering me advice on rations to take, but quickly devolved into some kind of rant. Still, I took the advice, and decided to go shopping for some limes and cheese, as well as some other items as soon as I had someone to go with. As I waited, I played a bit with Barty. He was quite energetic, running around the deck of the boat, his paws making soft padding noises as he moved.

We were interrupted by the sound of flapping wings, and I look up just in time to see a Pegasus landing on the deck of the ship, lowering his head in a short, but polite greeting.
“Hey there, uh, Miss Script. I’m Woven, Woven Shield.” He introduced himself, and explained how he knew about me.

“My dad is Rowan Mantle, he knows your dad. Aunt Ash set him up on a few dates?” I remembered occasionally seeing my father going out to see mares, and having to sort him out when he looked too scruffy. The Pegasus continued. “My mom is Toni Mantle. When they heard your dad sent you on an adventure, they said you’d probably need someone to keep you healthy.”

He was very polite, and I could see he’d been brought up well. He was young, maybe a year younger than me, but he was well-built. Slightly taller, and a bit stockier than other Pegasi I’ve seen, no doubt taking the better parts from his parents. his eyes had a soft twitch when he looked around, like he was exploring everything he saw. Around his neck, a black and yellow scarf hung, and his back left leg had a small green bandana tied around it. His mane was silvery, and his coat was a deep purple.

I could see that he was nervous, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I decided that as captain, I couldn’t just let anybody on. “Well, what are your skills?” I asked Woven, trying to use my best authoritative voice.
“Well, uh, I’m good at cooking. My mom, well, she taught me how to, um, make potions too. I uh, I can tell if some plants are poisonous.” He reminded me a little of my dad, when he was talking to a pony he didn’t know.

“Why do you want to join the crew?” My final question. He thought for a moment, and for a second I thought of saying no. If he didn’t have a goal, he wouldn’t have drive. Luckily, he had a response.
“I wanna discover something. An alchemical ingredient, or a new breed of tree. Nopony has ever sailed beyond the map and come back, so there’s probably tons of new things to discover!”

He joined me happily, if a bit nervous. I shared the feeling, but it was still quite exciting to have somepony else on the adventure. I told him my plans for the day, to go shopping for food rations.
“I’ll come with you. I’ll need some supplies as well.”

I was happy he came with me. I woke Bob up, and explained where we were going, and he said he’d watch the boat. Then, me, Woven and Barty headed into the nearby town.

Woven was polite enough to share the weight of the items we bought, and he proved knowledgeable on what foods were good to bring. “Limes and cheese, uh, they’re all well and good but, um, you wanna have some fruit too. Apples keep for ages, and uh, I can grow some vegetables on the boat if you want.”

When we returned, Salty Bob was in the water, splashing hard. “Help me, lass! I can’ swim!” he bubbled, barely treading water. I grabbed a length of rope, and threw it out to him, and Woven helped pull him out and onto dry land. The old pony stood, dripping wet and shaking Woven’s hoof with a joyous grin.

“Thank Celestia ye came along when ye did! There I were, mindin’ me own business, when this mare suddenly barges inta me! Knocked me clean into the wa'er, didn’ even say sorry!” He explained, as he wrung out his tail. I asked him where the mare was headed, and his eye went wide. “I think she were headed to ye boat lass!”

Woven and I raced towards the ship, leaving our supplies with Salty Bob, and quickly jumped on board just in time to see a mint-green mare kicking the kitchen door down from the inside. “You fuckers the ones my mom told me to join?”

Nuclear Flare was wearing a black studded dog collar, and had three people piercings in her right ear. Her mane was a soft yellow, with dark red ends, alongside her mint coat. A fresh cut hung just below her eye, and on her flank was a mark of an orange flame. I recognised her a little, although we’d never spent much time in one-anothers company.

“Oak Script, you cunt, I’m joining your crew.” She stated, looking at Woven. The Pegasus looked back, blushing a little, before quickly looking away. Flare marched over, pressing her head against mine. “You got a problem with that, cuz?” I shook my head, wordless. She remained motionless for a few seconds, before backing up a little.

“That’s good, cause you don’t wanna piss me off.” She smiled, and I could almost see flames behind her eyes. Her grin was sadistic, and as she turned and began to walk towards the plank to get off the ship, she swayed her hips in a way that made Woven blush even more. “I’m gonna go get shitfaced. If I don’t come back before midnight, I’m gonna need you to pay bail.”

She left our sight, and I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding the entire time. I looked at Woven, who stared longingly at the direction Flare had gone in. There was silence for a couple of moments, broken by a loud splash and the sounds of Salty Bob yelling for help. I tapped Woven’s shoulder.

“Come on. Don’t be chasing HER flank, you’ll just get burnt.” I sighed, as we headed down to the docks to fish Bob out of the water and retrieve our supplies.

As I write this, Flare has just climbed aboard and passed out in a wooden barrel. It’s very late, and we set off in the morning, so I’d best end the entry here. I’m happy that Woven is coming with us, not so much with Flare.



The One Where Isaac Gets Cold

Isaac was shivering. You were at a ski resort for the weekend, and Isaac had packed mostly t shirts. “I told you to bring a jacket, Lahey.” “I just didn’t think it would be this cold.” Issac protested, hugging you close. “Stop stealing my warmth! And it’s Alaska. what did you expect? We came here to learn how to ski.” You hadn’t reached ‘I told you so’ quite yet, but you were searching for the perfect moment. “How should I know? God, it’s freezing.” There it was. Isaac must have known what you were opening your mouth to say because he quickly shut you up by pressing his lips to yours. “I hate you,” you said breathlessly as you look up at Isaac’s smirk. “No, you like me,” he kissed you quickly, his eyes widening in excitement as his lips left yours. His hands found their way into the back pockets of your blue jeans- “for warmth,” Isaac explained mischievously. He squeezes slightly and you roll your eyes. “Did you at least pack a scarf?” “Well I’m not a barbarian, sweetheart,” He winked at you and kissed you with a fiery intensity that left your lips bruised. “Are you all warmed up now?” you murmur, slinging your arms around his neck. “I think I’d be even warmer if you took your clothes off,” he nodded. “Isaac, that’s not how it works.” He sighed disapprovingly. “I guess I’ll have to explain it to you… or show you…”